There’s not much to say about Birthday Sex that hasn’t been said before, or done repeatedly. There’s a reason it’s a hit. The production is catchy without relying on gimmicks, Jeremih delivers a vocal performance with just enough auto-tune, and it’s about sex. Better than New Year’s Eve sex, which is always a little too drunk, and anniversary sex, which is always a little too heavy on the romance, Birthday Sex delivers a perfectly enjoyable experience. And yes, I’m talking about the song and the act.

But I’m not here to write about Birthday Sex, I’m here to write about everything besides Birthday Sex. Right off the bat there are some solid indications that Jeremih is no one-hit wonder album – first, there are exactly zero guest features (don’t worry, T-Pain and Weezy won’t starve). And second, the entire album is produced by up-and-comer Mick Schultz, making Jeremih and Schultz’s partnership a younger version of Dream and Tricky Stewart. In fact, calling him a Dream in training isn’t that crazy. Just take Raindrops, a track with a heartbeat drum line that Jeremih transforms into a R&B banger, or Buh Bye, a more pop-oriented jam that should pack dance floors. Now Jeremih’s got a way to go before he’s a Dream. The album occasionally dips into juvenile territory, most notably on the forced swagger anthem Imma Star and the painfully shallow My Ride, but Jeremih’s young. Give him time.