By Steve Weinstein
By Bryan Bierman
By Lindsey Rhoades
By Chaz Kangas
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Jena Ardell
By Jesse Sendejas Jr.
By Katherine Turman
Considering how unclear it is where The-Dream is headed in 2010, they may soon be all we've got. His squalling contributions to Rihanna's Rated R—particularly "Rockstar 101," the dark grunge-crunk jam in which she makes the unlikely announcement that she "don't really give a fuck"—signaled a definite break from the warm and cuddly vibe of "Umbrella." And Jennifer Lopez's late-fall comeback jam, "Louboutins," was wack-wack-wack. Making matters fuzzier still, The-Dream has threatened that this year's reportedly forthcoming Love King will be the last album he releases as a solo artist.
Even if he fades away as quickly as he appeared, though, fans can take solace in the fact that we'll always have "Pregnant," the full-circle Untitled closer that finds R. Kelly paired with The-Dream and Thicke—oh, and Tyrese, too—for a state-of-the-art master class on the Weird New Sensitivity. The song's conceit is classic Kelly: Our narrator's at the club scoping the scene for potential one-night stands—"See, I'm a player, so I ain't trying to take her on no dates," he explains—when he spies a chick "with an unbelievable booty," which leads somehow to fantasies of "this big old house with a picket fence and a dog." (A dog!) Yet it's Thicke and The-Dream who flesh out the scenario so wonderfully: First, Thicke promises, "If you choose me, I guarantee that the rest of your life would be man-drama-free," then The-Dream suggests putting "those pills on chill" before telling his baby-mama-to-be, "I'm-a take care of you, and I'm-a still hold you like we brand-new/So don't get it twisted/For 30-something weeks I'm still gon' hit it."
A Prada-wearing papa whose carnal understanding exceeds his demand for mathematical precision? How could so many of you resist this guy?