This is our (horrible) review of R. Kelly’s “Black Panties” and we’re stickin’ to it

By:  Bryan Dupont-Gray

Raw and uncensored erotica can move music — a mindset long instilled within R. Kelly. Since dropping 12 Play in 1993 and providing chart-topping singles such as “I’m a Flirt (Remix)” and “Ignition (Remix),” the Chicagoan has been known to sell out arenas with sex-infused performances and soulfully electrifying vocals.

While it’s apparent that Kelly prefers to go above and beyond when creating some love-making music, he has also shown his potential to showcase his work using other subject matters and even other types of genres — see “Happy People/U Saved Me and Love Letter.”

However, there is no evidence of such variety on this project. Black Panties is a musical personification of a one-track mind, with songs grotesquely composed and repetitive that it almost feels that it could spark the first sexual assault lawsuit filed by a set of ears.

“Leg’s Shakin’” is a preface to what lies ahead with its down-tempo-club-joint atmosphere littered with some nice harmonies and an acceptable feature verse from Ludacris. While this particular song starts off the album on the right foot, the mood quickly deteriorates when Kelly starts going left field on tracks like “Cookie” and “You Deserve Better.”


Like the majority of the album’s material, both of these songs are so below Kelly that it might be hard to believe that the vocals belong to him. “You Deserve Better” is a great example of this as Kelly sounds exactly like The-Dream or Future, who could have fared better in this song. The bland quality of the strip-club savvy beats on “Cookie” and “Spend That” are so subpar that they sound regurgitated from a one-hit wonder that has come and gone.

“Black Panties” also comes with some head scratchers as well. Consider “Right Back” and Kelly’s over excessive rhyme with the N-word and the tired slow-paced melancholic background music. The tracks talks on trying to overcome obstacles, but refusing to do so and instead going back to those who have always been there.

“Marry the P-ssy” will start to beg the question of what is considered too much for Kelly. The aim of the song clearly fits his persona and it’s not out of the ordinary considering the older memorable tracks like “Sex Me” and  “Feeling On Yo Booty.”

However, sacrificing a soulful and meaningful touch to the craft and replacing the sound with poor R&B and blunt absurd lyrics about buying women material things and fornicating as a means of “marriage” is where the line is drawn.

“Black Panties” is lyrically and sonically disgusting.

Even a brief moment of Kelly Rowland’s angelic feature on “All The Way” doesn’t save this album from it’s failures.

Kelly isn’t putting his best ideas forward here and it shows. Fans should either forget that this one existed or throw them out like dirty laundry. The panties, too.

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