Why is it that Seal's albums seem to be readily disposable at first listen but always prove to be more timeless than could be predicted? On Human Being, Seal's third release (and first with a title other than his name), several of the tracks are layered with prominent, syrupy strings, and his predictable vocal crescendos veer dangerously into the land of forgettable grocery-store-intercom adult contemporary. But hang in there; there's a lot more substance here than what will first reach your ear. This complex release is a little harder to categorize than his debut record (the dance album) or his second disc (the power-ballads album). The first two tracks hint that--oh, no--it's going to be another late-1990s trip-hop album, but thankfully, Seal doesn't go there. Listen a couple of times--you'll hear everything from orchestral swells to tinny rhythm guitar, experimental keyboard effects to late-night jazz piano accompanying Seal's standard "Can't we all just get along?" lyrical message. These tracks are heavily produced and thickly layered but at the same time his most intimate and personal songs to date. The album's cover art is a good metaphor for its mood: Seal is naked and crouched over--cowering or ready to strike? So, too, the songs lash out, then plead, then sting, then soothe. Start counting; this album has a long shelf life. --Beth Bessmer