| to my dismay the man known as R. Kellyslowly began generating fan fair. I admit, I was a hater…a big one. You see to me Aaron Hall was what music was about. R. Kelly on the other hand, and his ill formed Public Announcement were nothing short of fluff. And as a lover of music, real music, music that sent chills soaring throughout your body, I wasn't about to settle for second best, period; end of discussion.
But then, Dedicated happened. Out of nowhere, this fake, this fraud, this wannabe R&B icon wrote and produced a song so beautiful even I couldn't berate it. At first I couldn't take it: "Why," I asked myself over and over again, "are you doing this to me God? Why are you allowing this shallow goat-teed cornball's light to shine? Why are you making him, of all people, a star?" Much to my dismay, the answer would never come. So instead, I did what any other true music lovin' citizen in my position would do, I boycotted his shit. I changed the station every time I heard it as not to fall victim to its haunting lyrics. I as a music-loving citizen of the planet earth refused to succumb to his trickery, his deceit, his whack ass over-emphasized vibe.
But, there is something hypnotic about a great song; something that draws you in, from wherever you are, and demands you listen, but not just listen, feel its purpose, its intent. No matter how much you may loathe its creator, if the shit's hot, you're gonna feel it. But more than feel it, you're gonna know it. It wasn't long before I started humming the melody to this heart-warming song. Almost immediately I was surprised I knew the melody; surprised even more to learn I knew most of the lyrics; but then when I later learned the song was penned partly for his mother I was surprised to find myself at the Wiz handing the cashier a crisp twenty dollar bill to purchase the lackluster: Born Into the '90s.
After giving the album a thorough listen it did not disappoint, it was exactly what I had expected: garbage. With the exception of Honey Love, and still to this day my favorite Dedicated, the set lacked direction, intention, and motivation. I beamed knowing the end was near. He had tried, hard; I gave him that but after listening to his shit I was dying for the real thing, and Mr. Kelly just wasn't it.
Enter 12 Play
I wasn't ready for the solo thang. Believe me when I tell you, I wasn't ready. Bump and Grind hit the airwaves with a force that has yet to be repeated in his career; to date it is still his best selling single, ever. The sexy, provocative lyrics of that song took him straight to the top of the charts. Everyone was feeling Bump and Grind and as a result, they helped push his sophomore effort to the limit: 5 million strong. Can I get a got-damn!!!!
I don't know, maybe it was because he dropped the less than talented Public Announcement. Or, maybe it was because he got sick of people comparing him to Aaron Hall. Honestly, I'm really not sure, but whatever it was, the man was back with a raw gritty, soulful fusion of R&B, gospel, pop, hip-hop and classic soul. It was hard not to react when you heard him bellow: "My minds telling me noooooo! But my body-my body's telling me yee-e-esss! Baby-I don't want to hurt nobody-but there's something that I must confess…" Shit, if you didn't know anything else, you knew that feeling. You knew the experience. You understood, his torment. You too had once felt the weakness of the flesh, overcome the might of the spirit. So you listened attentively, to every word, understanding fully what it meant to crave, no, desire the forbidden fruit.
Almost overnight R. Kelly went from a musical impersonator to a musical mastermind. Almost instantly people began wondering how the hell did anyone in their right mind confuse him with or for Aaron Hall? R. Kelly was a genius…Aaron Hall was simply a front man for musical guru Teddy Riley. Yeah, that was it…Teddy made Aaron, while R. Kelly on the other hand made himself; he was a self-made, self-trained musical genius. The new Quincy, the new Stevie, the new Teddy, except instead of producing timeless jazz standards, or old school classics, or even that new jack swing, R. Kelly was producing babies, millions of them.
The sexual bravado of this man played out in his music like an after hours Showtime flick, minus the customary PG rating. His entire aura reeked of sex. When you saw him, you thought of it. When you heard him you thought of it. He was a walking talking sex machine cummin' live to a speaker near you. With songs like Bump and Grind, It Seems like you're Ready, Your Body's Callin', I like that Crotch on You, Sex Me (Part I and II), it wasn't hard for anyone to see exactly what Mr. Kelly wanted. He wanted pussy, and lots of it. Fuck love. Well actually, scratch that, he did in fact want love, but after, and only after you gave up the goods. Thorough right? That's some Rap shit right? But the truth is, R. Kelly wasn't saying nothing that wasn't already being said and done everyday in every hood in every corner of the world. He was just smart enough to market it. Your lost Aaron…
Age Ain't Nothin' But A Number
I'm not sure who spoke this phrase first, but I'm sure he or she is probably someplace beating themselves in the head while simultaneously repeating over and over: "I should have gotten a fuckin' patent!"
Wow, just think for a moment how many times you've said this statement, or in turn, had it stated to you. Think about all the teenagers convincing their parents right now how mature they are; how responsible they are; and how they shouldn't be disallowed certain privileges based solely on their age. Think again for a minute of all the adults you know, the ones that should know better, the ones setting the wrong example, the ones doing the same shit their seventeen year old child is doing all because they subscribe to the age old belief: age ain't nothin' but a number; or it's sister statement: you're only as old as you feel.
In truth, age is nothing but a number. It is an estimate if you will, of where your level of maturity is, or should be, but like all things in life it offers no guarantee. Through experience we know life has a will of its own. A destiny. And at times, a choice…
By May of 1994 R. Kelly was a well sought after singer, songwriter, producer, arranger, and re-mixer. In other words, he was the motherfukin' man, with a stack of hits to prove it! If you wanted a top 40 song-which in the music industry is shit to die for-R. Kelly was the man to see. And so, everyone did.
Barry Hankerson, who at the time was R. Kelly's manager, introduced his niece, a budding talented young girl to the rising star. Aaliyah Dana Haughton had been struggling for some time to land a recording contract. Her quest began at six after a small role in a school production of Annie sparked a fire in her that just could not be put out. Enticed by the spotlight, young Aaliyah would make it her business to one day own the stage. By age 10 she had performed her way to Star Search, and by age 11 she had snagged a once in a lifetime opportunity to perform with her world famous aunt, Glady's Knight at one of her concerts. But it wasn't until she met the ultra-talented Kelly did she fully begin to visualize her dreams of superstardom.
Impressed with young Aaliyah's ambition and talent, R. Kelly took her under his still budding wings and wrote, produced, and arranged every track on her debut album, Age Ain't Nothin' But a Number, except At Your Best, which was originally an Isley Brothers tune. The first single from the set, "Back and Forth", was a smooth mix of pop and hip-hop and released in early 1994. By May it had hit the top 40. The much-anticipated album was released in June to critical acclaim. Entertainment Weekly, just one of the many, hailed the release: "...imagine En Vouge packed into one teenage body and backed by hip-hop svengali R. Kelly and you have Aaliyah..." In a matter of weeks Back and Forth hit the top 10, and by July a little less than a month after its release Aaliyah's debut effort was certified gold. R. Kelly had done it. He had his own successful set, which at the time had sold more than 3 million copies and his very first protégé was about to become a teenage icon. What more could one man ask for?
It Seems Like You're Ready
"Temperature's rising, and your body's yearning for me. Girl lay it on me, I place no one above the…take me to your ecstasy. It seems like you're ready, it seems like you're ready, to go all the way…" -R. Kelly
By late summer the rumors began to surface. Had R. Kelly married his young protégé Aaliyah? Could the twenty-something year old artist really fathom having an adult relationship with a 15-year-old girl? Did the title of her debut album Age Ain't Nothin' But A Number, secretly reveal the truth of their un-timely love affair? Was age truly just a number?
The media had a field day with the rumors; everyone wanted to know if the man known for his sexual prows had actually stooped to the ultimate level. Both he and Aaliyah denied the rumors and affirmed vehemently that their relationship was strictly professional even after an alleged annulled marriage certificate emerged. It would take some time for the story to fizzle but in the end, it did. Surprisingly both artists managed to escape the melee without consequence. Or, did they? Aaliyah, Kelly's golden child ended up severing all ties with the giant and his production team and joined up with an up and coming producer by the name of Timberland, and his featured artist Missy Elliot to release her second effort, One In A Million. While R, Kelly turned his focus back to writing and producing in order to forget his new public persona: pedophile.
I Believe I Can Fly
I have to give it to the man; he never, ever gave up, or stopped for a minute to question the beliefs people held of him; or contemplate his purpose in life. It was as if he was willed to do the very thing in which he found his deepest joy.
R. Kelly took both the good and the bad of being a spotlight star and continued to make a name for himself. And much to the delight of his bank account, everyone came knocking. Not just anyone, everyone. With the success he displayed in producing Aaliyah's first album, the Juggernauts of the entertainment world stood in line to work with the man with the platinum touch. He remixed Janet Jackson's hit "Anytime Anyplace" and it immediately went to number one. He wrote, produced and arranged the international number one hit "You are Not Alone", for Michael Jackson, and in many ways saved his career. For Luther Vandross he penned: "When You Call my Name"; "G.H.E.T.T.O.U.T." for Changing Faces; "It's On", for Mary J. Blige; and "I Don't Want To" for Toni Braxton. All mind you, while working on what would become his biggest album to date: "R. Kelly".
On this his third set yet again I was not prepared. The man constantly reinvented himself. Yes he stayed true to his by then signature sexual style, but the overall tone of this album held a more gospel-ly feel to it; from the opening interlude, to "Heaven If You Hear Me", to "Religious Love", to by far one of my favorite R. Kelly's cuts, "Trade in My Life", the man had changed. He had grown. His love of and for God was evident in this new material, and in some ways threatened to overpower his dominant sexual demeanor. He song of love, love of God, love of life; love so powerful he vowed to trade in his life: For what should it profit a man to gain the world, and lose his soul, he asked wholeheartedly. This indeed was a different man; the man we knew and loved was evolving into a more pronounced, profound human being.
This change, I'm almost sure of it, was what led him to sweep the 1998 Grammy® Awards with the gospel-inspired anthem "I Believe I Can Fly", from fellow icon Michael Jordan's movie Space Jam. The man who had miraculously replaced Michael Jackson in Sunday morning sermons and subsequently had been barred from churches around the globe and many of its parishioners homes was suddenly embraced with open arms. "I Believe I Can Fly" could be heard everywhere, churches, graduations, even street corners. Yes, believe it or not thugs wanted to fly too. R. Kelly had taken pen to hand and struck an accord and the public answered, in unbelievable numbers.
If I Could Turn Back The Hands Of Time
With celebrity, comes death. Your life as you know it, instantly dies, and what replaces it, is one filled with speculation, accusations, temptation, and allegations. So I guess the question is, why would anybody want to pursue a life of fame? Shit, the answer's simple: power.
In February of 2002 controversy caught up with the man again when a Chicago newspaper published a story reporting they had anonymously received a 26-minute video with footage depicting Kelly participating in intercourse, fellatio, and urination with an underage girl. By this time Kelly had achieved super-duper-stardom. To date he had released 5 albums and had sold more than 23 million records; so the news of yet another teenage girl falling under the lure of his sexual tendencies hit with the force of an atomic bomb.
To add insult to injury the girl was identified by her aunt, singer and one time R. Kelly protégé and love interest, Sparkle as being 14 at the time of the taping. The media went crazy, and the word spread like hot fire. In a matter of days talk of yet another tape had surfaced, as well as a pending law suit against R. Kelly by a woman named Tracey Sampson whom Kelly had dated when she was 17. Almost instantly popular opinion branded him a serial pedophile and the hunt to castrate the icon publicly was on.
The World's Greatest
"When you're famous, they expect you to work miracles, and I'm not God." -R. Kelly
Come on, no one expects his or her favorite artist to be God. What we expect from them is responsibility; what we expect, is the truth. I admit, when the allegations first surfaced I nailed that bastard to the cross. I wanted to see him burn-die-fall from grace. I wanted him to be an example, a warning for all those using their fame, and fortune to manipulate and malign their many admirers and the all too subjective system. I wanted justice. I wanted it swift. I wanted it bad. Too many times had I seen and heard of celebrities buying their freedom. Too many times had the courts given pardons to the over-privileged, over-paid, over-the-top members of the "too important to lock up" elite. It was time for justice and I prayed the gavel fell with determined ferocity.
Why, because at the time I had two young nieces who had just turned 15 and I knew all too well how gullible they were; how impressionable they were; how, if R. Kelly, or Bow-Wow, or Fabolous, or any other mainstream pop icon had approached them and said, "what's up", they would have fallen head over heals. Children watch videos more than adults. Children phone up or log on daily to BET.Com to vote for their favorite video to be aired on 106 & Park, children, not adults. Why do you think every time Lil' Bow-Wow or Lil' Romeo comes out with a new video it goes straight to number one?
Ahhh, so now you get my angst. So…if children are watching these videos in unbelievable numbers, don't you think at some point they've witnessed R.'s sexual overtures? And if by some chance they haven't witnessed his visuals, is it not sufficed to say that they have indeed heard the man and his explicit, detailed lyrics at some point in their young lives? If so, don't you think, or maybe feel he, as the adult has a responsibility to his fans, not to fuck their children?
Okay, maybe I went a little overboard, but the intent is still there. In cases where children, teenagers, or even young adults are targeted by a grown ass man or woman the blame should always fall on the adult. Even if, and I stress even if, the child solicits said adult to partake in sexual encounters.
So now I guess the question is, is R. Kelly guilty?
If you subscribe to the aforementioned belief then yes, R. Kelly is guilty of misleading his fans, and using his celebrity status to coerce young teenagers into sleeping with him.
However, if you believe R. Kelly is a victim of his celebrity status, and as a result is constantly solicited by women of all ages to engage in sexual acts then you may find yourself disagreeing with the aforementioned belief. I have heard some argue that the girl, although youthful appearing was quite into what she was doing. To them, she was fast, experienced, and fully aware of what was going on. So to them, R. Kelly is the unfortunate victim; a celebrity who was tricked into a most unfortunate circumstance.
Heaven I need a Hug
In an interview given to BET's correspondent Ed Gordon on May 9, 2002 R. Kelly denied any wrong doing: "I want America to know that you can't believe everything you hear, and nowadays, you can't believe everything you see."
The man was humble. Gone were the three and a half carat earrings that usually donned his ears. Gone were the platinum chains with the iced out cross, and begets upon begets. Gone were the Gucci shades that usually crowned his chiseled face hiding his weed stained eyes. What we saw was a man dealing with the worst tragedy in his life, save for the untimely death of his beloved mother. What happened next shocked the shit out of me, he asked us to believe in him. He asked us to pray for him, and the demons that haunt his life. To me, he asked for the impossible.
Though I admit this regretfully, I had seen the tape, and what I saw disgusted me. It was difficult to watch one of my favorite male artist stoop to such a low in his personal life. I had been to one of his concerts and witnessed the throngs of women offering up themselves as a living sacrifice to the god of the song. I watched as they watched his every move. I watched as they called his name, desperate for his attention, dying for a simple touch. I watched it all hoping in the end he protected himself. Little did I know the thousands of screaming beauties that stood before him meant nothing, for somewhere off in the corner of his mind, he was searching for something else; something fresh, and possibly something untouched.
That night as he sat dejected on BET I lost most if not all of my respect for the Chicagoan that made nothing into something. I lost my taste for his music. Ed Gordon had somehow revealed the true R. Kelly and once again I hated the very sight of him.
Trade In My Life…
As a Christian, I am taught to forgive. I am taught to love my neighbor as I love myself. Though sometimes it is extremely difficult to find something to love in others, I realize that in order to be forgiven I must forgive. I often refer to John 8:7 where Jesus beckons to the scribes and Pharisees: He who is among you without sin, let him cast the first stone, to help me out in situations like this.
I cannot rightfully cast a stone at R. Kelly, though my every being wants to shatter his house. I cannot because I too have sinned I have committed crimes. I have done some things others may frown upon. Yet, most of mine have not come to the light.
I was quick to judge the man; quick to cast him into the firry pits of hell for sins I find repulsive…but in the end I had to admit to myself and to others, he is but a man; a man struggling to find himself; a man who has the right to fall, and get back up, without the world stoning him to death.
Once I realized my stance: rock in hand, with a grimaced brow, ready to pounce, I quickly reassumed my previous defenseless position. Afterwards I reasoned myself to a conclusion: I can accept the man for his God-given talents, and relish in his ability to turn words into magic, much like Christ turned water into wine. But, when it comes to his personal life and the many demons that haunt him, I will pray he find his way.
Since reaching this conclusion, I have been called scum, an advocate to and for those who promote child molestation, even a poor excuse for a black man. Initially I sought to defend my name, and myself but then it hit me…the workings of the human mind is not meant to fully understand the workings of another. We are one, yet we are different, very different. And in that difference lies the ultimate confusion. What I do, I do for me, and me only; yet others confuse it as a will for, or against them, just as R. Kelly's wills have been labeled a personal attack, if you will, on the lives of thousands of his fans; as a result of this will, he his paying the ultimate price; rejection.
In the end the decision you hold of R. Kelly is yours, friend, or foe…just be careful not toss stones if your only residence is a glass house.
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