Tag Archives: Ronald Isley

R. Kelly – R. Kelly

R. Kelly
R. Kelly
November 14, 1995
Jive Records/ SME
080/100
R. Kelly - R. Kelly
1. The Sermon // 2. Hump Bounce // 3. Not Gonna Hold On // 4. You Remind Me of Something // 5. Step In My Room // 6. Baby, Baby, Baby, Baby, Baby // 7. (You To Be) Happy (feat. the Notorious B.I.G.) // 8. Down Low (Nobody Has to Know) (feat. Ronald Isley & Ernie Isley) // 9. I Can’t Sleep Baby (If I) // 10. Thank God It’s Friday // 11. Love Is on the Way // 12. Heaven If You Hear Me // 13. Religious Love // 14. Tempo Slow // 15. As I Look Into My Life // 16. Trade My Life

A prime example of an album that gives you most of the kicks you get from it because it’s sort of weird is R. Kelly’s self-titled third solo album.
It manages to blur the line between earnest make out album and golden comedy record, a concept that would which would henceforth be Robert Kelly’s bread and butter.

He has matured a bit since unleashing 12 Play onto the world, this album doesn’t have any of the pimp banality that album served up on tracks like Summer Bunnies and I Like the Crotch on You. Because his rapping in particular went hand in hand with the superficiality those songs conveyed, and hopefully because he realised that he sucked at rapping coming off as some sort of generic party rapper like MC Hammer whenever he did it, all he does here is what he does best, which is sing.
And the songs he sings build on the songs off his sophomore album that were succesful. Your Body’s Callin’Bump and Grind and  Sex Me were career establishing and consolodating hits with their insidiously percolating quiet storm slow grooves combined with R. Kelly’s excellent Reese’s peanut butter cups-tenor and risqué lyrics. Lyrics that may still are as explicit and carnal as they were on the last album, but no longer as misogynic and objectifying. No longer is R. Kelly the overenthusiastic poonhound. This time around Robert plays the roll of the earnest, mature lover who worships you and whose sole life purpose is to get you in the seventh heaven with his bumpin’  and grindin’, even if he doesn’t necessarily want to stay around keeping you company forlong after the act. R. Kelly is a much less giddy album than 12 Play, but the veneer of added maturity somehow only serves to augments the comedic effect some of these songs have on the listener, the comedic effect that nobody but Robert knows to be intentional or not.

Kells liberally borrowed from soul legends such as Donny Hathaway, Barry White, Lionel Richie, Teddy Pendergrass, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Charlie Wilson, Luther Vandross, Isaac Hayes and the Isley Brothers (who appear on this album) which makes sense since arguably he was the heir to the fictional R&B throne that had been passed around between these listed names. He infuses variations of their brands of soul with Dr. Dre’s G-funk sound, which was in and by itself a dervative of some of these artists and serves up the quintessential soul record of 1995.
More than from any of these guys however Kelly appears to draw inspiration from Marvin Gaye, which draws an unfair comparison, but one that needs to be made regardless to place this album in proper context: Crafty as Robert was and still is at making sex songs, in Marvin Gaye’s league he is most definitely not, although he out of all of his contemporary peers he’s come the closest.

But still R. Kelly hadn’t yet (and still hasn’t) got anything under his belt as effortless sexy and soulful as Let’s Get It On or Sexual Healing which he probably never will either, which you shouldn’t blame the guy for since nobody but Marvin does. This is what separates pop’s craftsmen from the artists. The stars from the legends. But that didn’t stop Robert from finding his own way to create memorable classics and developing his own signature style of salacious love song, a style that may not be as beyond reproach as Marvin’s is amongst critics, but depending on your point of view is equally, if not more entertaining.
And one of the lessons he has learned from the late great one is to not be afraid to use silly metaphores. Marvin had songs with lyrics such as I’m hot just like an oven, I need some lovin’ but employed these somewhat sparingly and suptly, while mr. Kelly goes for broke with them here as is evident in the hook to his classic slow jam You Remind Me of Something.

You remind me of my jeep, I wanna ride it
Something like my sound, I wanna pump it
Girl you look just like my cars, I wanna wax it
And something like my bank account
I wanna spend it, baby
R. Kelly – You Remind Me of Something

These would be what the fuck!? lyrics are salvaged by R. Kelly’s impressive ability to sing them straightfacedly and soulfully, and by the music, which is everything these words aren’t: restrained, sexy and, dare I say it; classy.
The ensuing recordings are electrified with the tension this paradox creates, and with music lovers there is still a debate whether or not this man can be fucking serious with these songs, which is exactly what makes this man so fascinating in the first place.
Well that is an important part of it, but it wouldn’t mean anything without the fact that he’s got the musical chops to make these songs sound good, and a voice that is simply a amazing instrument.
(Also there’s his well documented personal life and legal troubles that leave a lot of room for speculation and blur the lines between his art and his reality, in the public’s perception at least, and his unwillingness or inability to alter his artistic persona to something less abiguously guilty at everything the man has been charged with in real life.)

Besides the demographic that enjoys Robert’s creations either ironically or with a large portion of good old christian guilt (another central theme to the man’s music explored on tracks like the Sermon, Thank God It’s FridayAs I Look Into My Life and Religious Love along with more random instances of other religious imagery) there are women R&B fans that couldn’t give a rats ass about all that analytic bull, and oddly enough either take songs like You Remind Me of Something at face value as a legitimately romantic song to get nasty to without minding the lyrics much because “the beats are sexy” (this is not a complaint), or on the other end of the R. Kelly spectrum flat-out refuse to listen to the man because he has been charged with (and acquitted of) statutory rape, while still being completely comfortable with Chris Brown, who is 500% more despicable and not 1/10 as talented, because smacking your bitch up in a fit of rage doesn’t count as a sexual offence.

For all these different categories of fans (and haters who hate the man for the exact same reasons his fans love him) R. Kelly has something to offer. For those who wish to sing along to quirky sex songs there’s the previously mentioned You Remind Me of Something and a jam called Hump Bounce, as well as the classic tale of love cheating and betrayal called Down Low (Nobody Has to Know), which goes to show that Robert is as good a storyteller as Slick Rick and was a precursor to his infamous Trapped In the Closet series (Down Low (Nobody Has to Know) unfortunately has only two pars of which only the first is included on this album).

For the romantics amongst us looking for the soundtrack to a long makeout session there’s those exact same songs, as well as less questionable inclusions like Love is on the Way, I Cant Sleep Baby (If I)Not Gonna Hold OnStep In My Room and Trade My Life. If you want to have a dance (at a tempo low enough to prevent you from breaking a sweat) there’s the Biggie-featuring (You to Be) Happy and the understated Thank God It’s Friday.

Everything is held together by Robert’s on-record persona and his sultry, impeccable productions. For fans of contemporary R&B and soul music; You’re hard pressed to find an a similar abum of better quality. R. Kelly is a classic in its genre, and a quantumleap forward for R. Kelly, building from 12 Play‘s hit-or-miss qualities to something consistently entertaining.

Best tracks
Hump Bounce
Not Gonna Hold On
You Remind Me of Something
(You To Be) Be Happy
Down Low (Nobody Has to Know)
I Can’t Sleep Baby (If I)
Thank God It’s Friday
Love Is on the way

Recommendations
If you’re into vintage R&B pick this up. It should teleleport you to a place that is both the sexy dimension and the uncanny valley, and make you laugh out loud in random intervals in the process. And there aren’t to many albums that can legitimately claim to do that to people.


Ja Rule – Venni Vetti Vecci

Ja Rule
Venni Vetti Vecci
June 1, 1999
Murder Inc. RecordsDef Jam RecordingsUMG
070/100

1. The March [Prelude] // 2. We Here Now (feat. Black Child) // 3. World’s Most Dangerous (feat. Nemesis) // 4. Let’s Ride //5. Holla Holla //6. Kill ‘Em All (feat. Jay-Z) // 7. I Hate Nigguz [Skit] // 8.Nigguz Theme (feat. Black Child & Case) // 9. Suicide Freestyle (feat. Case) //10. Story To Tell //11.Chris Black [Skit] //12. Count On Your Nigga //13. It’s Murda (feat. DMX & Jay-Z) // 14. E-Dub & Ja (feat. Eric Sermon) // 15. 187 Baptiss Church [Skit] // 16. Murda 4 Life (feat. Memphis Bleek) // 17. Daddy’s Little Baby (feat. Ronald Isley) // 18. Race Against Time // 19. Only Begotten Son // 20. The Murderers (feat. Black Child & Tah Murder)

Nowadays Jeffrey “Ja Rule” Atkins is considered by the general population as a total joke. Unlike his post 2Pac & Biggie contemporaries Jay-Z and DMX he isn’t ever brought up when the best rapper debate comes up, and his considerable string of big hits is considered too campy to ever become vintage. Perhaps the best indicator of his relevance today: his best viewed youtube video’s come mostly with a long ass string of comments about how 50 Cent trainwrecked Ja’s career, which is a bad thing, especially considering that nobody actually gives a fuck about mr. Cent himself in most other contexts anymore. In the years between 1999 and 2004 however Ja Rule was a bona fide superstar, releasing an album each year going platinum each and every time and hitting the charts more often with a smash hit single than you can shake a stick at. You don’t get that many people to hate you unless you get some serious exposure in the media, such is the way of the world people.

The way young Jeffrey got exposure in the first place was by aligning himself with producer Irv Gotti, who was instrumental in bringing both the previously mentioned DMX and Jay-Z to the general public. In 1998 Ja got his lucky break, being featured on the Gotti-produced Jay-Z hit single Can I Get a… When Irv got his on boutique label Murder Inc records, as a reward for his money making for Def jam during the previous couple of years, and needed a flagship artist to properly launch it with, the gravelly voiced whippersnapper was an obvious choice. And so the album Venni Vetti Vecci was born and released in the summer of ’99. The album was a commercial succes, selling a million copies in a month and a million more by 2002.

Critically however  Venni Vetti Vecci and Ja Rule himself were panned by everybody. It was said that Ja didn’t have a style of his own and was merely emulating the late 2Pac and his comrades DMX and Jay-Z with his gruff delivery and his nihilistic lyrics about thugs and life and thug life, his religious imagery (just take a look at that album cover) and his tales of existentialist fear and pimping (as well as other illicit manners of gathering currency).

While it is true that Jeffrey Atkins is not, was not and never will be a man of great original ideas, and does sound like a less lyrically gifted X a bit on his debut (they sound different enough for Ja not to be a biter in this reviewer’s expert opinion, but it’s easy to see where the comparison comes from.), he does outdo X here by giving the audiences a better debut album. The reason for that being possible is that X was handicapped by a serious case of the Swizz Beatz on his debut, while Ja’s beats are mostly provided by the capable hands of his label boss Irv Gotti, and a bunch of Murder Inc records lieutenants who all bring the heat here, and, unlike Swizz, are able to resist the urge of recording themselves jumping up and down on a Casio keyboard and passing those recordings off as beats. And with Ja being a competent, if unimaginative, MC the results are a very acceptable variation of the hard core New York sound of the late ‘90s. Those hiphop heads who are sceptical about the possibility of Ja having recorded a decently credible, high quality, album that doesn’t border on self-parody because of the mental image of him booty bumping with Jennifer Lopez in the video of one of their collabos, should keep in mind that the man hadn’t yet begun his transformation into his generation’s thugg’d-out Barry White.

Highlights include: the smash hit Holla Holla, where Ja rides the bubbling beat with a perfectly appropriate pogo-stick flow, creating a solid party jam for the ages, the speedy, high octane Let’s Ride, the ominous It’s Murda where our host gets ripped a new asshole twice by respectively the previously mentioned DMX and Jay-Z. The stupidly titled but catchy-as-fuck, organ infused Murda 4 Life, featuring the Roc-a-Fella Records’ second in command Memphis Bleek (a sparring parter Jeffrey can actually handle) the Isley Bother’s sampling and featuring Daddy’s Little Baby, which is a pretty genuine declaration of love aimed at his daughter, and Only Begotten Son which is a pretty genuine declaration of war aimed at his absentee father. (It is only on these latter two tracks that the 2Pac comparison starts to make sense.) But the rest of the album doesn’t lag far behind in quality.

If you, like most heads of my generation, are nostalgic for the ‘90s sound, but habitually won’t touch a Ja Rule album with a ten foot pole because of the glittery R&B songs, by all means give Venni Vetti Vecci a chance, there’s no Ashanti or J-Lo in sight. And chances are pretty fat you’ll be very pleasantly surprised. All the skits are ass (are they ever not?), the guest appearances by Ja’s Murder Inc labelmates Caddilac Tah and Black Child seriously detract from several otherwise good tracks, and you won’t find any relavations, insights or high quality poetry on here, but you will find something raw to bump in the ride and at the house party, plus your purchase of this album will help Jeffrey pay for his legal aid, so he may be able shorten the time in prison he is currently doing for not paying his taxes.

Best Tracks:
Holla Holla, It’s Murda, Murda 4 Life, Daddy’s Little Baby, Only Begotten Son

Recommendations:
Buy this album.