First let’s consider the title, which, coming from an 83-year-old man, is as direct as you can get while still being playful about it. But from a lifelong veteran of showbiz, it’s also just good marketing. (Robinson himself said he bet, in part, on people’s curiosity getting the better of them.) His voice remains supple and his style sophisticated with a touch of naughty, and tucked between the velvety contours of the expected soul/quiet storm (“How You Make Me Feel,” “Roll Around”) are arrangements as sparse and womblike as the sensual pop he inadvertently helped invent in the late ’70s (“I Wanna Know Your Body,” “If We Don’t Have Each Other”). After a long bout of teasing, he ends on the “Grapevine”-like tantra of “I Fit in There”—metaphorically, of course.