CD Review of Double Up by R. Kelly

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Buy your copy from Amazon.com R. Kelly:
Double Up
no starno starno starno starno star Label: Jive
Released: 2007
Buy from Amazon.com

Okay, let’s examine some recent facts here. First, controversial radio jock Don Imus is fired for referring to the female Rutgers University basketball team as “nappy-headed hos.” Second, Imus’ firing leads Al Sharpton and Russell Simmons to go on a crusade demanding that rap and hip-hop lyrics cut out all the negativity when it’s argued that what goes on in those songs is usually worse than what Imus said on his show. Third, R. Kelly releases his newest album Double Up in May, 2007 going the same old tired route with the ridiculous “singing” and rapping about various skanks he wants to fuck over the course of the disc’s 18 tracks.

Sex sells, but who’s listening?

On the inner tray for Double Up, R. Kelly pushes things into perverse overdrive by giving a shout out to each of his four kids. Yeah, it must be great being this guy’s offspring when he fills his rhymes with tales of hooking up with whatever random chick his dick’s radar is homed in on at the moment. And guaranteed, it’s not the same chick from song to song. After all, how could he knock off the title track that’s all about having two chicks come home with him and get it on with his bad self and themselves? Rap has been at a serious dead end for years now thanks to likes of Kelly, who can’t ever get around without espousing nothing but boring lines regarding how much bling he has, how many chicks he’s laid, and how he still feels connected to the ‘hood, even though the reality is far different from any such fantasy.

But the record labels are content to pump tons of money to talentless hacks like R. and let the pimping continue. Hell, who cares if he likes to piss on underage girls? Let’s support his vision by letting him record total garbage and turn the other cheek. He’s bringing in the dough. That’s all that matters in the end. While label execs sniff out any money they can as the business continues dying in a freefall that has less to do with people ripping CDs and trading mp3s freely and much more to do with the continuous hustling of crap artists that have absolutely nothing to offer artistically, musically, or monetarily, guys like R. Kelly keep living high on the hog and releasing bullshit excuses for “music,” be it rap or otherwise.

Three tracks stand out on Double Up over the rest of the sleaze. The first is “Leave Your Name,” where Kelly is singing his answering machine’s message and going on about how hard it is to attend all those parties and afterparties all drunk on Hennessy and puking all over the place only to party some more. The chorus goes like so: “Leave your name right after the beat, and / I’m sure to get back with you if I’m not asleep, or / Smokin’ on some trees, or / Havin’ a little sex, or / if I’m not faded or makin’ a baby.” Terrific.

Next up is the godawful “Havin’ a Baby.” Yes, it looks like R. has gotten yet another skank knocked up, and he’s overjoyed by it as much as his honey is. Too bad he won’t be around for it or her because, as we know, there are plenty of other women to screw and kids to be had. In true R. Kelly fashion, he croons such unbelievable nonsense as “While I can’t believe I’m gonna be a father / In nine months a child will be born / Baby, you’re pregnant in April / Which means we’re havin’ a Capricorn / I’m so glad to be a part of this / ‘Cause girl, a child is Heaven sent / This is a blessing to me / To have you with my seed.”  Eccchhhh. To top that, though, the baby is born at the end of the song, as R. sings “Push…push…hold my hand…baby, push, breathe, you’re almost there.” And then “Robert Junior” is born and you get to hear his cries. Words escape me.

But that’s not it. No, you see, there is “Sex Planet.” If you need definitive proof that R. Kelly has zero talent, then you just need to hear this song. Before we part, just do me one favor. Please don’t give this dude any of your money by supporting his “musical career.” Anyone within listening distance can hear what a waste he is when it comes to creating anything. That said, I leave you now with snippets from “Sex Planet” by R. Kelly. Soon to be impregnating someone else and moving along to the next town.

Jupiter,Pluto Venus and Saturn
I’m leavin’ Earth girl to explore your galaxy
Ten to zero, Blast off here we go
We’ll climax until we reach Mercury
I guarantee you’ll like it
It’ll take your breath away
Gonna get you so excited
Once I’ve tasted your milky way
Girl spend the night come take a flight with me
Out into space

Girl you’re sending me these sexual energies
And I gotta grab it, Right now I’ve gotta have it
Shooting stars, a trip to Mars
I can get us there from where we are
So don’t trip I got a giant rocket
Glidin’ through just hitting your pocket

Girl relax and just flow
I’m about to twinkle and touch your soul
Once I enter into your black hole (baby uhh)

Girl I promise this will be painless (painless)
We’ll take a trip to planet Uranus (anus)
(note: he seriously does echo “anus” here)
I’m gonna take you out of this world
So hold on tight my dear
I’m about to take you out of here
And get you to my Sex planet

We’ll stick a flag on the Moon
First couple to ever make love on planet Neptune (uuhh)
And if time allow us
We’ll be gone for hours
I won’t stop until I give you meteor showers

Meteor showers. Jesus.

~Jason Thompson