by Michael Gallucci Despite its lumbering length and some slick, late-'90s R&B formalities, Kenny Lattimore's second album is a real treat. Combining smooth grooves with an even silkier voice, Lattimore shifts from bedroom operator to new jack king with an ease that seems neither forced nor affected on From the Soul of Man. The R&B stew is made even heartier by a couple of inspired covers, even if they're not totally successful in their execution (who knew that "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" could be so sexy?). When the album tosses in basic contemporary soul ingredients -- songs that are more finely chiseled than actually tuneful, occasional robotic singing, glossy production that's hiding something -- it flows into mind-numbing conventionality. But when Lattimore gently soaks in the material (nearly all of it penned by him), From the Soul of Man is truly a spirited affair.