I’ve featured only one other Alicia Keys song on the blog so far and that was during a week in which I posted songs with no commentary. Sitting here wondering what to write about this one, I can see why that’s the case.

I simply don’t have much to say about the 30-year-old R&B sensation who was raised in Hell’s Kitchen and went on to study classical piano before recording her multiple Grammy-winning first album.

You could make a movie about that backstory, but I can barely tap out a blog post. Why is that?

Keys is a talented writer, pianist and singer, but she doesn’t make the kind of music I’m particularly drawn to. She’s a beautiful woman, and totally my type, but I don’t really find her attractive. In fact, watching her makes me wonder if perhaps it’s impossible for a woman to look sexy playing the piano.

Despite my ambivalence, I own Keys’ first two albums. They’re both fine for what they are, but fall into my R&B blind spot. Try as I might, I can’t get into this sort of thing.

I do like ‘Samsonite Man,’ though, from Keys’ sophomore release, The Diary of Alicia Keys. It has an appealing Stevie Wonder vibe that works for me. Perhaps that’s because I’m the very opposite of a Samsonite man.