In the canon of great American duos, Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo-- better known as hip-hop’s paragons of icy minimalism, the Neptunes-- rank somewhere between Laurel & Hardy and Hall & Oates. So one’s got to wonder, with that pedigree, why the hell Pharrell would leave his longtime partner out of the production process for his debut solo album, In My Mind? The dark curls and eccentric lazers in the Neptunes’ music have always been attributed, at least in part, to Hugo. One listen to Kenna’s overlooked 2003 post-new wave album New Sacred Cow-- produced entirely by Hugo-- reveals the evil synths and cold kinetics he brings to Williams’ airy theatricality and bougie Turks & Caicos yacht-rap.

Without that dark core, Pharrell is left to focus expressly on the bouncy and bounce-able. Not that there’s anything wrong with his brand of quasi-philosophical, brazenly materialistic music-- see Jay-Z’s "I Just Wanna Love U (Give It 2 Me)”, for example. But stretched over the course of 16 songs, with few contributions from those who owe him for part of their success, leaves a moist, spoiled aftertaste. It’s all pizzazz, no pathos.

Granted, there are impressive moments: The arresting “Keep It Playa”, featuring Slim Thug, features some rattling snares and a familiar series of guitar plucks that rumbles into a hilarious falsetto bridge about J. Lo’s ass. It's the same kind of breezy thrill afforded by “Frontin’”, Williams’ hit with Jay-Z from the 2003 compilation The Neptunes Present...Clones. However, that brings us to “Young Girl”, a mediocre paean to (maybe) underage ladies that sounds like a cross between very bad Prince-aping and “Sunshine”-era Jigga. It’s the first song in a truly ghastly second half of an album that didn't need to exist in the first place.

And it's all downhill from there. The less said about “Number 1”-- perhaps Kanye West and Pharrell’s lowest four minutes ever-- the better. Even Pusha T of the Clipse strikes out on the limp “Stay With Me (Dim the Lights)”, a song that has me wondering what happened to the guy that laced Noreaga’s brain-bursting “Superthug”. Or Mystikal’s assiduous “Shake Ya Ass”. Or Britney’s irrefutable “I'm a Slave 4 U”.

Williams’ hard sell on the album, more than a year ago, was a split work: Eight R&B songs and eight rap songs, speaking to his production history. It was also an opportunity for Skateboard P to spotlight not just his mosquito-throated singing style, but also his bric-a-brac cadence and elocution. Unfortunately, that's exactly what we get.

There’s no denying that Pharrell wasn’t completely built for this kind of forum, but the idea that a producer of his caliber can’t put together something resembling a likeable LP-- particularly in light of his endlessly amusing Gangsta Grillz mixtape, In My Mind: The Prequel-- is insane. Here, he’s shot himself in the foot. Where the mixtape exploded with enthusiasm and wit, In My Mind the album is corroded and ineffectual. Worse, it’s predictable.

One of the album's few redeeming tracks comes early on “Best Friend”, an autobiographical ode to friendship in the face of struggle. At one point P raps about the exit and entrance of two important figures in his life: “Seventh grade it was cursed and sad/ But the gift left within it is when I first met Chad/ But even Chad could tell you that my Christmas was jinxed/ Grandma died on 12/19.” It’s a rare open-hearted moment, unaffected by “black Carl Sagan” proselytizing or BBC chain boasting. The brief but recognizable sample from Outkast’s “Ms. Jackson”, is a knowing nod to the kind of sentiment Pharrell looks to duplicate. Only, without a clear perspective or a best friend to hold his hand, he’s left with little but a cool T-shirt and a pair of new BAPE sneakers.