He says he turned down therapy but sometimes finds this stuff just pouring out.ДЄnd just to prove he's now in the big league, there is also a song about that friend of all rappers, God. Best Friend is the rather touching potted autobiography about Pharrell's childhood: doing maths homework with his grandma, losing his mother to leukaemia, and those all- important crack-dealing kids on the block (essential to the making of any rapper). There is some of the rags-to-riches stuff, though, but that bit is actually fascinating. But this is not one of those poor-me albums it's not quite Skinner weighing up the benefits of shagging famous birds over civilians, not quite J-Lo begging us to ignore those weighty diamonds dangling from her lavishly manicured hands. Ah, the problems of the rich, famous and ravenous: suddenly we seem to be in Mike Skinner territory. 'I don't give a fuck what the tabloids say,' he adds at one point. Years of straightening out other people's singing have clearly given Pharrell too much exposure to studio perfection: he seems to have fed his own vocals through the autotuner. Guest appearances from the smoother-tongued Jay-Z and Kanye West only emphasise that. He just doesn't make a convincing rapper, and it's not only a question of charisma: his voice tends towards the monotone, and lacks honey.

This is the man who named his record label Star Trak in misspelled homage to his beloved space show, who was in a band called N*E*R*D. You can see the intentions, and you cringe. Listening to Pharrell do it is akin to watching William Hague smiling for the cameras in a baseball cap. On Dim the Lights he even goes so far as to offer to relieve himself with a lady's underwear, although repeated listening reveals that he's actually saying, 'I'm a master, baby, with your bra.' Still, the confusion seems intentional, as he continues with double entendres such as: 'I know you wanna come in my arms.'ДЇrom a convincing lothario such as Snoop Dogg, such supplications might sound convincing. I Really Like You sees him begging a girl to stay with him a later track is called Stay With Me, while Young Girl suggests the only action he can get is with a minor. There's the 'eye-fucking' detailed on Baby, where he asks some lucky recipient to 'meet me in the hallways where the bathrooms are', telling her: 'I wanna touch you, baby/ Are you by yourself tonight?' The final refrain, 'Excuse me, I'm talking to you,' suggests that the poor chap is more likely to end up with a restraining order than a groin strain. He may have made Britney a Slave 4 U and persuaded Kelis to part with her Milkshake, but Pharrell has been obliged to call his own debut In My Mind as, tragically, that's where most of his booty action seems to take place. Pharrell Williams who, with his Neptunes co-producer Chad Hugo, was once responsible for 43% of all records being played on US radio, is finally ready to release his own much-delayed album, and it appears that it is not just the music that's going solo. A t a time when the front pages of newspapers are covered with Wags and Swags, all those lucky ladies who get to sleep with influential men, it's comforting to learn that one of the most powerful men in pop still can't get laid.

Pharrell in my mind root