R. Kelly’s last three albums have included such songs as “Bangin’ in the Headboard,” “Get Dirty,” “Havin’ a Baby,” “Sex in the Kitchen” and “Hit It ‘Til The Morning.” So it’s a bit of a relief that his new album, Love Letters is “dedicated to all the girls who have stood beside him” rather than the ones who have been lying under or on top of him.
This is not to say that Kelly has changed his focus. He’s merely added a bit of romantic gloss, using the word “love” as a euphemism for sex. And yet, the change works. The title track is smooth and upbeat as Kelly croons romantic platitudes to a girl who may have left him behind.
“Lost in Your Love” is a ballad on which the singer slowly airs out his deepest desire: to “bring love songs back to the radio.” And “Number One Hit” which would be corny in anyone else’s hands, is an enjoyable ode to a woman that R. Kelly considers his, well, his number one hit. He has taken a distinctly retro approach to this album and doesn’t attempt to veil it one bit, which gives the album a pleasing overall flair with a shockingly sweet aftertaste.
A large part of the album’s success is due to R. Kelly’s controversial yet humorous public image. Despised by the public for allegedly engaging in salacious acts with minors, Kelly underwent a transformation of sorts as he was ridiculed by South Park, Dave Chappelle, and (in an admiring sort of way) Aziz Ansari amongst many others, emerging from the morass as America’s favorite sex addict; a potentially crazy character whose exploits both in public and private constitute a fine basis for our modern day myth-making.
Sometimes it seems that Kelly is aware of this image, maybe even wants to do something about it. Thus, the track called “When a Woman Loves,” a direct reference to one of his first big hits (included on Now That’s What I Call Music Volume Two!) “When a Woman’s Fed Up.”
Interestingly, the woman is no longer fed up, but instead has taken “him back, after he broke her heart about a thousand times.” This change in the lyrics is noteworthy but the music is vintage R. Kelly, soft piano and flute music over spare, subtle drums. Elsewhere, on the Motown influenced “Love Is,” Kelly sings a duet with his pseudonymic equal, K. Michelle in which the love is classy, mature and respectable.
However, at the end of the day, R. Kelly can’t ever really escape who he is. The seemingly innocent “Taxi Cab” tells the story of an alluring woman who slowly wins the singer over (think Craig David’s “Seven Days”) until they suddenly find themselves “making love in a taxi cab.” Silky language and beautiful singing can’t disguise the fact that this is a pretty trashy thing to do despite any attempts to dress up the act of love.
R. Kelly proves once and for all in Love Letters that every so often we have to acknowledge that the love we are making can just as easily be thought of as a little bit of bump and grind – and there isn’t necessarily anything wrong with that.
3.5 Stars
