POP/ROCK

Jordin Sparks, "Battlefield" (19/Jive)

Sparks entered the first phase of her pop career as an ingenue, winning "American Idol" with bright talent, bubbly charm and a willingness to learn. Her self-titled debut sold more than 1 million copies on the strength of four hit singles, each a gust of teenage wonderment or torment.

"Battlefield," her expertly constructed second album, upholds a darker, more experienced tone without losing an ounce of melodrama. Sparks, now a worldly 19, has her principles, including a stake in overblown emotion.

Sparks wails, with remorse and rebuke, on the album's title track, a current single. She sounds vexed but in control, and undaunted by the copyright interests of Pat Benatar, who preferred her battlefield metaphors in declarative form.

What matters for Sparks is the pitch of the struggle: Benatar is of less use to her than Beyoncé, or her "Idol" predecessor Kelly Clarkson, or even Celine Dion. Like all of those righteous and beleaguered touchstones, Sparks applies an epic scale to her endeavors. On "Emergency (911)" the humiliation of being stood up for a date is cast in histrionic crisis-services terms.

Intriguingly, the music on that song, and another club track, "S.O.S. (Let the Music Play)," evokes the brazen dance-pop of Lady Gaga. And an accusatory brief called "It Takes More" suggests the coltish chilliness of Rihanna. Moments such as these faintly contradict the side of Sparks represented by two songs she co-wrote: "Faith" and "The Cure." But it's a good sign that Sparks is becoming more compelling as she grows more conflicted. "Watch You Go," partly credited to T-Pain and Dr. Luke, allows her a rare moment of self-aware candor: "I hate to see you leave/But I love to watch you go."

NATE CHINEN, NEW YORK TIMES

R&B

Ginuwine, "A Man's Thoughts" (Asylum)

Ginuwine's grown-'n'-sexy approach to music and lyrics is about stewing and building slowly to climax on tracks such as the quietly storming "One Time for Love" and the simmering "Last Chance." The confident sexuality is there, of course, but tempered by maturity.

When he sings the crisply funky "Show Off," Gin isn't just looking for lust. He's asking the ladies in the house to be proud of their bodies. And even when he haughtily reteams with Timbaland (and Missy Elliott) on the mesmerizing "Get Involved," their provocative results are more nice than naughty.

A.D. AMOROSI, PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER