Despite her star having lost some of its luster in the 2000s, Whitney Houston is still regarded as a benchmark for modern singers of all stripes (from soulful divas to would-be pop idols). Almost seven years in the making, 2009's I LOOK TO YOU marks a music industry homecoming for the singer. Supported by a mob of A-list producers and songwriters including Diane Warren, David Foster, R. Kelly, Alicia Keys, and many more, Houston's vocals are in fine form on material ranging from hip-hop-tinged contemporary R&B ("Million Dollar Bill") to `70s covers (Leon Russell's "A Song for You") to adult contemporary torch songs ("I Look to You").

It's only been seven years between Just Whitney and 2009's I Look to You, not even Houston's longest time between albums, but it feels much, much longer, her glory days obscured in hazy memories of lost luster chiefly deriving from a bad marriage with Bobby Brown, chronicled in an embarrassing reality show for Bravo in 2004. I Look to You attempts to wash this all away with something of a return to roots -- a celebration of Houston's deep disco beginnings, tempered with a few skyscraping ballads designed to showcase her soaring voice. Houston's rocky decade isn't ignored, but it isn't explored, either: songs allude to Whitney's strength, her willpower as a survivor struggling through some unnamed struggle -- enough for listeners to fill in the blanks, either with their own experience or their imaginings of Houston's life. More than the songs, Whitney's voice tells the tale of her lost decade. The highs are diminished, the sweetness sanded away, leaving her a thick, powerful growl that has an emotional pull not quite like a ravaged latter-day Billie Holiday, but not all that far removed, either; at the very least, Whitney can still sing, knowing when to wring emotion out of a phrase, knowing when not to push for the glory notes that she can no longer hit. This diminished skill set actually serves the showboating showstoppers well, turning them into something that operates on a human scale, injecting them with something approximating warmth, something that the songs quite deliberately avoid. Also, there just aren't that many of them on I Look to You, either. Most of the album splits the difference between burnished neo-disco and modern soul, aware of fashion but not pandering to it. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine

It's only been seven years between Just Whitney and 2009's I Look to You, not even Houston's longest time between albums, but it feels much, much longer, her glory days obscured in hazy memories of lost luster chiefly deriving from a bad marriage with Bobby Brown, chronicled in an embarrassing reality show for Bravo in 2004. I Look to You attempts to wash this all away with something of a return to roots -- a celebration of Houston's deep disco beginnings, tempered with a few skyscraping ballads designed to showcase her soaring voice. Houston's rocky decade isn't ignored, but it isn't explored, either: songs allude to Whitney's strength, her willpower as a survivor struggling through some unnamed struggle -- enough for listeners to fill in the blanks, either with their own experience or their imaginings of Houston's life. More than the songs, Whitney's voice tells the tale of her lost decade. The highs are diminished, the sweetness sanded away, leaving her a thick, knotty powerful growl that has an emotional pull not quite like a ravaged latter-day Billie Holiday, but not all that far removed, either; at the very least, Whitney can still sing, knowing when to wring emotion out of a phrase, knowing when not to push for the glory notes that she can no longer hit. This diminished skill set actually serves the showboating showstoppers well, turning them into something that operates on a human scale, injecting them with something approximating warmth, something that the songs quite deliberately avoid. Also, there just aren't that many of them on I Look to You, either. Most of the album splits the difference between burnished neo-disco and modern soul, aware of fashion but not pandering to them. Which isn't to say that these songs are necessarily age-appropriate, either: they're suspended in time and fashion, tinged with nostalgia but not quite taking into account that Houston isn't now (and never really was) a creature of the clubs. What she undoubtedly is, is a pro -- she sells these subdued glitzy productions, she makes boring songs interesting, she remains a forceful, tangible presence. With this admirable, if not quite successful, un-comeback out of the way, maybe she can pull away from the spotlight and settle into the serious business of finding songs to suit her new voice. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Rolling Stone (p.54) - 3.5 stars out of 5 -- "It is a modern soul record, a collection of sleek, often spunky love songs that aim at something more immediate and tangible than nostalgia or catharsis..."

Entertainment Weekly (p.60) - "[S]he seems relieved to turn to lighter stuff, like the saucy-sweet Alicia Keys collaboration 'Million Dollar Bill' and airy Akon duet 'Like I Never Left.'" -- Grade: B-