Barf Bag Not Included
R. Kelly likes to sing about various ways he wants to screw the latest woman to cross his line of sight, and the only reason anyone still talks about his attempt at a career is because he bangs teenagers on tape. TP.3 Reloaded is just another of Kelly’s overindulgent exercises in explicit sexuality. He may have originally earned his fame that way, but Kelly has lost his knack, recently producing tracks that are comically bad.On “In the Kitchen” Kelly cries, over an annoying water drip sound effect, “Girl I’m ready to toss your salad!” Even if it’s not a horribly non-clever attempt at a kitchen-based pun, no one really wants to hear that. Even worse are his attempts at reggae. On “Reggae Bump Bump” he at least employs Elephant Man, who then effortlessly upstages Kelly.
R. Kelly provides musical backgrounds for sex in the same way that Thomas Kinkade provides housewives with artwork – by formula. Instead of taking real artistic risks Kelly continues with his same old shtick. He knows what perfunctory moves will still sell his albums and get tongues wagging, but that’s about all that’s left.
TP.3 Reloaded’s piece de resistance is the travesty that is “Trapped In the Closet (Parts 1-5).” Kelly doesn’t even front like he’s written a song. He just tells this unbelievable, overwrought soap opera in a singsong voice. Adultery set to grand orchestral arrangements with echo effects isn’t any more captivating than daytime television. The only reason to download any of this mess is the car wreck factor – it’s so damn difficult to look away from wreckage this disturbing.
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