ook, I have nothing against speech impediments; I’ve proudly spoken with one for over ten years. I’ve been subject to ridicule from countless assholes. At first, it was hard for me to ask guheurls out because of my troublesome r’s, but I’ve since overcome my fear. So in some minor way, I guess I relate to J Holiday, D.C.’s lisp-burdened R&B singer. But that’s not to say I agree with his upfrontedness. Plenty of great performers have dealt with speech impediments; unlike Holiday, most of them solved the problem by burying their flaws rather than flaunting them.

It’s hard to take a supposedly smooth R&B singer seriously when he sings about girls who are “real ssthexy when they ssthip.” It’s even more difficult when he gets to the chorus of opener “Back of My Lac,” which alliterates “sitting, smoking, and sipping.” When Holiday croons these s-laden lines, it’s akin to asking Helen Keller to act as DD; sure, she’s great at staying sober, but when you actually hand her the keys, she’s inevitably going to wreck. Holiday knows how to sound soulful, but when he gets to words like ‘sexy,’ ironically enough, he loses all sexiness. Luckily, Holiday only crashes on a few tracks; for the most part, sparkling production and smooth hooks conceal his impediment. But sadly, Holiday isn’t his album’s biggest flaw.

At its worst, Holiday’s debut, Back of My Lac’, sounds like innocuous, R. Kelly-lite R&B. Unfortunately, Back of My Lac’ is at its worst 70 percent of the time. Throughout the album, Holiday tries to find some middle ground between D’Angelo’s sensuality and R. Kelly’s pop sensibilities. Unfortunately, this tends to translates into mid-tempo boredom.

“Laa Laa” might as well be called “Zzz Zzz.” “Fatal” sounds promising but leaves your head before it actually ends. On Lac’, Holiday sounds best when he sticks with one influence.

The album’s biggest single, “Bed,” places a powerful vocal performance atop a lush “Promise” knockoff beat. Holiday’s harping never reaches the emotional heights of Ciara’s cooing, but it’s still a gorgeous exercise in sensuality. On “Without You,” Rodney Jerkins sends Holiday a barrage of delicate, rapid handclaps, angelic oohs, and, in the song’s final minutes, triumphant horns. Holiday rides atop the beautiful, soulful beat like a graceful equestrian, with a smooth, luscious, and commanding vocal.

And even though it’s speckled with ugly lisp, the title track’s memorable hook would still fit perfectly on any R. Kelly album. But for the most part, there’s not much more memorable work going on here. Everything else fades together into one acceptable but boring dentist office painting (well, a dentist who appreciates weed, cognac, and sex).

Back of My Lac’ needs less monotony and more focus. When the album rises above its generic tendencies, it’s truly dazzling. Throughout, Holiday’s vocals are consistently great, but it takes either good songwriting or amazing production to produce anything remarkable. J. Holiday has loads of potential; he just needs help channeling it.