Saturday, November 24, 2007
Happy Kellsgiving!
Here in the glorious United States of Asskickery, the day after Thanksgiving is known as "Black Friday." From now on, for LL Cool Jew and myself anyway, it will be known as "Black, Handsome, Sings, Plus is Rich, and Is a Flirt Friday." Because that's the day we saw the mind-blowing awesomeness that is Robert Sylvester Kelly LIVE IN CONCERT ON LONG ISLAND!!!!!!!!--hold on, this isn't accurately conveying how I feel about this experience--!!!!!!!!!!****!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!****
The R. Kelly concert was every bit as unbelievable as you might imagine. Or maybe you wouldn't imagine it to be so eventful, since it's come to my attention that in spite of Kells attracting a new audience of despicable hipsters thanks to the IFC's embracing of "Trapped in the Closet," a lot of people still don't appreciate the genius of Robert Sylvester Kelly. However, as Kelefah Sanneh of the New York Times promised, it is indeed two and a half hours of "nothing but climax" and the incomparable King of R&B being "thrilling, hilarious, and downright mystifying, often all at once."
Even the trip to Long Island was thrilling, hilarious, and downright mystifying, because the dumbass morons who built the Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum DIDN'T BUILD IT ON THE LIRR. Who the fuck builds a stadium in a place where it is as difficult to reach by public transportation as possible? To get there, we had to take the LIRR to some godforsaken stop an hour from the city and then take a Nassau County bus. We made the train at the last minute and proceeded to get down to business acting like a couple of dumb kids, taking pictures of ourselves with what LL Cool Jew refers to as her "teenager phone" (due to its garish orange color and fancy pop-out texting keyboard and windows):
As we neared the Hempstead stop, it became apparent that all the other passengers were also going there for one reason: KELLS. Why the hell else would anyone go to Hempstead? I guess Hofstra is right by there, but our train was devoid of college kids. Instead there was this cute Haitian couple on a date to the Kells show with what seemed like one of their little brothers tagging along, all conversing excitedly in rapid French, and a drunk guy who offered us all pre-Kells swigs from his brown-bagged bottle of Remy.
Upon our arrival in Hempstead, we were relieved to see that the bus stop was indoors, since the N70 bus we had to take wasn't there. When it did arrive, everyone piled on, including a group of very excited women led by a gold-toothed vixen named Keyshia. After listening to her discuss with her friends who the hottest Keyshia would be at the show (her or Keyshia Cole), they proceeded to get everyone on the bus worked up. "The RRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" she was shouting with her friends, which prompted the unnaturally friendly bus driver to get on his intercom and say, "Who here is going to see the RRRRRRRRRR?" When that got a favorable reaction from the bus riders, he added, "Who is going home with the RRRRRRRRRR?"
Keyshia and her crew went berserk. "He's the R in R&B!" one of them exclaimed.
"I think you mean the R-uh in R&B," I corrected her.
"The R-uh! Hell yes!" they crowed, pouring more liquor into their coffee cups. They then proceeded to tell us about all the times they've seen R. Kelly live, and explained that the reason he was playing at such a bitch-to-get-to venue rather than Madison Square Garden was on account of a lawsuit relating to the collapse of the R. Kelly/Jay-Z Best of Both Worlds tour, when Kells cut a set short after seeing someone with a gun in the audience and was maced in the face by some of Jay-Z's people. Alas, it would have been much easier to take the A train a few stops from my crib to the Garden, but then we probably never would have met Keyshia et al and been so remarkably entertained.
When we arrived at the Coliseum stop, we realized we had to cross the Hempstead Turnpike and a gargantuan parking lot. There was no crosswalk, so we were hesitant to race across a six-lane highway, particularly LL Cool Jew, who was wearing one of her standard pairs of cripplingly high stiletto heels. However, Keyshia once again took charge, and announced, "Bus people! Follow me!" before barging right into the road. Luckily we all made it across, and LL Cool Jew was able to snap a picture of me behind a line of the aforementioned "bus people."
After getting to the coliseum and getting through the metal detectors which preceded the ticket takers ("they didn't have these when I came here to see J.T. and Christina Aguilera," noted LL Cool Jew dryly), we proceeded to get situated with Bud Lights in our nosebleed section seats and ignore J. Holiday's opening set. To pass the time until Robert Sylvester Kelly's grand entrance, we speculated on what type of awesomeness could happen. I mentioned that earlier in lab that day, J-Sexy had said to me, "What if you got to meet R. Kelly? Oh my GOD, how ridicolos would it be if you got to DO R. Kelly, Razzy?!?!" LL Cool Jew and I decided to explore that fantastic notion.
"So, if Kells wanted to double up with us, would BigBagel give you a pass?" I asked LL Cool Jew. Her married status generally eliminates the possibility of her having groupie sex, but you never know. Some couples have arrangements. Or so I've heard.
"No WAY," said LL Cool Jew. "You'd have to take it for the team. But just so you know, I'd HAVE TO WATCH." Wouldn't be the first time I've had sex with an audience, but that's another story.
"You'd be the one in the chair, then," I said. This is a reference to the lyric "one in the bed, one in the chair, one massage my toes while one braid my hair" from the R-uh in R&B's album moniker and ode to threesomes "Double Up."
"Yeah, you'd have to be the one on the bed. I'd be in the chair, on braiding detail," agreed LL Cool Jew.
Shortly thereafter, Keyshia Cole came on stage, and after LL Cool Jew and I agreed that she's got a banging body and a great voice but is nonetheless not Mary J. Blige, we were getting impatient for Kells. Both of us were relieved that Ne-yo had dropped out of the tour and thus our Kells-related gratification wouldn't be further delayed by live renditions of "Sexy Love."
Then, after Keyshia went off and there was some hurried stage rearrangement, the moment we waited for arrived. Kells! LL Cool Jew was clever enough to write down his TWO AND A HALF HOUR LONG SET LIST, to augment this very blog posting.
The Champ: For the opening song, Kells ran out in an entirely bedazzled hooded robe saying "The Champ" on the back, with a pair of matching disco ball sneaks. Kells's grand entrance was augmented by an impressive pyrotechnical display. This was followed by a medley of R. Kelly's contributions to his many great collaborations:
That's That Shit: If you're lookin' for some good sex, holler at a player.
Fuckin' You Tonight: Although Kells didn't sing my favorite song in the "I spend money on you, now time to put out" vein, "Don't You Say No," this hook from his collaboration with the legendary Notorious B.I.G. was nonetheless well-received.
Hotel: We in our throwbacks, this is for the ladies, we got room keys. Isn't everything for the ladies? Sadly, Kells did not don a Bears throwback jersey during the show, nor did he offer us a room key. Oh well. Next time.
Wonderful: Kells is at the top of the world and life's a pussy buffet.
So Sexy: Isn't he, though? Twista, however, is NOT, and fortunately, his corpulent ass was not around to
We Thuggin': Take my relief at Twista's absence and multiply it by ten thousand, and you have my feelings about Fat Joe not showing up to duet this one with Kells.
Gigolo: If only Kells were a male prostitute, I know where my next paycheck would be going.
Snake: Nothing--and I mean NOTHING--compares to hearing "I like the way you move your cho-cha, it makes me wanna get to know ya" sung live.
Thoia Thoing: Kells from Chi-town live is even better than Kells "Japan via satellite," whatever the hell that means. I told LL Cool Jew about how I sang this song once at a karaoke bar to great effect, because nothing spices up a lesbian birthday party like me attempting to do the "Thoia Thoing" dance while singing about being "butt-naked with sweat socks and house shoes." What are "house shoes," anyway? Slippers?
Double Up: It's like routine, player.
Tryin' To Get a Number: I somehow suspect that neither Kells nor Nelly have to try that hard.
Hook It Up: Anytime.
An old school rap song that I'm pretty sure was Big Daddy Kane's "Brooklyn Style": Unnecessary, but who knew Kells could rap?
TP-2: Imagine thousands of overweight people singing "I'm horny as hell" and "It's about to get real kinky." Yikes.
Strip For You: When R. Kelly followed "three knocks at the door, now, baby...trenchcoat hits the floor, now baby," with a simulated cunnilingus move with his tongue, all the ladies (translation: 80-90% of the audience) went insane.
"The Loneliest Tongue": I don't know if this is just something Kells made up for this concert, but nothing follows up a silhouetted striptease designed to keep the audience busy during a wardrobe change like an acapella ode to licking snatch. "I'm just a lonely tongue," crooned a close-up of Kells's mouth on the big screens, "Looking for some BODY to lick, looking for some BODY to nibble on." LL Cool Jew and I were speechless. For the rest of the night I preceded everything with, "Well, as I'm just a lonely tongue..."
Seems Like You're Ready: This song ushered in the moment we had anticipated from the Times review. Namely, when R. Kells describes how he won't keep things tame because the audience is ready in the form of having their hair done, nails done, toes done, car washed, and...SIX! HUN! DRED! DOLLAR! WEAVE! Granted, I suspect that most of the weaves I saw went for considerably less than $600, but nonetheless, the ladies in the audience rocking fake hair clearly touched it up in preparation for the hotness that is Kells.
Down Low (Remix): I wonder if Kells and Ronald "Mr. Biggs" Isley regret the title of this song given what being on the down low means these days in the modern urban lexicon.
When a Woman's Fed Up: Not a single one in the audience was fed up from what I could see, but at least one must have been, because she sent her date up by our section to smoke blunts in peace, well away from her. Blunt Guy spent the rest of the concert blowing trees, at least until he fell asleep. Lightweight.
Your Body's Callin': I could hear it calling me.
R&B Thug: YES! YES! YES! I actually got to hear Kells sing, "And when you leave up out my room, you'll be walkin' bow-legged" and "ooh, Kelly, you make me holla, keep on jumpin' like an Impala" LIVE. I can die now. Also, I should add that this was prefaced by Kells noting that "every woman wants a thug with some church in him." True that.
Feelin' On Yo Booty: Yet another classic. The only thing that would be better is if he took out half his impeccably-braided cornrows like in the hotness that is the video for this song.
Ignition (Remix): And not a single bitch in the audience was singing Dave Chapelle's "Piss on You" lyrics to this classic Kells jam.
Fiesta: It was, with my homie from the Midwest-a.
I Wish: LL Cool Jew went nuts, since this is her favorite Kells "serious" song. Mine is "The World's Greatest," which sadly was omitted from this performance.
Real Talk: Kells said, "You're not going to believe this, but I just got a phone call. Hold on just one second while I take care of this." He whips out a cell phone and before he even started in on the "I was at a club with who? GET THE FUCK OUT," LL Cool Jew and I turned to each other and said, "REAL TALK. See, girl."
Make It Rain: As noted before, Fat Joe mercifully did not show up to sing along and to get sexy alongside my beloved Robert Sylvester. Even more mercifully, R. Kelly did not start a riot by pulling a Pac Man Jones and actually "making it rain" on the hoes in the front row. Shit would have gotten crazy had he actually started chucking $100 bills around. However, LL Cool Jew and I did discuss how much more this could have kicked ass had Dwayne Carter, AKA Lil' Wayne AKA Weezy Fuckin' Baby AKA Tha Carter, showed up to do his "yeeeah, I'm in this bitch with the Terror" hook to the song. Sadly, he's probably in jail somewhere and thus indisposed.
I'm a Flirt: While this was awesome, LL Cool Jew and I were seriously lamenting the fact that T-Pain was absent on this tour. I think that if T-Pain and R. Kelly were to tour together, my head might explode with excitement.
The big screens then showed footage of all Kells's entertainer friends wishing him luck on tour, including T-Pain, Common, Fat Joe, Kanye West, Ciara, and Snoop Dogg.
N Luv Wit a Stripper (Remix): "I'm gonna go down on my knees and ask that ass to marry me." Exactly the type of proposal every stripper wants, especially when they have so much in common, as Kells points out ("she's a stripper, I'm a freak"). What woman could say no to a sexy man with lines like "you keep my donk on swole" and "I wanna stick it, I wanna kiss it, if I could I'd stick my whole damn head in it." That's being n luv wit a stripper, trust.
Kells then showed a hilarious segment intended to appease the dudes who had been dragged along to his show on their dates, about all the silly antics he gets up to while he's on tour. "Don't fall asleep, that's the rule," he explained, before showing the consequences of doing so, which primarily involve sticking objects (pen, tissue paper, paper clips) up the slumberer's nose. If he's feeling creative, he might squirt mustard on you, too. That Kells is such a zany prankster!
Go Getta: When I first heard Kells sing "Young Jeeeeeezzzzzzy" I was like, "WHERE THE HELL IS THE SNOWMAN?" I was so hoping he would jiggle out on stage to augment Kells with some ad libs. For all I know, he could have been backstage with his alleged (ex-?) girlfriend Keyshia Cole. Alas, it seems Young Jeezy was back at his Hotlanta trap or whatever, but Kells still sang about coming up out the club with a shitload-a women, so I was happy.
"Make It Purple Rain": I'm unclear as to whether Kells was lauding or mocking Prince or not, but in any event he better watch out. Prince is suing everyone who uses anything that even hints at being about Prince. He's been suing dumbasses putting their YouTube vlogs to the tune of "1999" and "I Feel For You" right and left, and while I would die of happiness and delight if Prince secured an injunction forbidding Smith College acapella groups from ever butchering "When Doves Cry" again, it would be truly sad if he shut down the "Double Up" tour for copyright infringement. Hopefully Kells's tour managers worked out a licensing deal beforehand.
Next to You: Snore. I totally forgot about this song that Kells did with Ciara, but this would have been better spent singing either "The World's Greatest," "Sex Me," or "Leave your Name," all sad omissions from the setlist.
Same Girl: Since Usher is off getting pegged by his tranny man-wife, Kells asked our side of the auditorium to sing Usher's part to this song. Luckily, LL Cool Jew, myself, and every other bitch there knew the words to this song by heart, and were only too happy to oblige by singing "did she go to Georgia Tech?", "does she work for TBS?," and "does she love some Waffle House?" at the proper time.
Put My T-Shirt On: This song was accompanied by a cadre of dudes carrying those t-shirt shooting guns that they used to have at Sonics games. During halftime, when the Squatch was doing a variety of gymnastically impressive, springboard-assisted dunks, dudes in Sonics sweatsuits would shoot team logo shirts into the stands at Key Arena. Apparently, Kells thought this would be a nice touch to augment a song about how he wants to bang his woman because she looks so hot in his t-shirt.
Freaky In the Club: Does Kells get anything else besides freaky in the club? I think not.
Kells's next wardrobe change was augmented by a video tribute to his musical idols: Marvin Gaye, Bob Marley, Tupac Shakur, Biggie, his kids, and HIMSELF. God, I love this man. LOVE HIM!
Let's Get it On: As we just learned, Marvin Gaye is one of Kells's idols, so we were unsurprised that he was singing this. In fact, Marvin Gaye's influence is pretty obvious, considering that with the exception of the odd serious or religious song, almost every song Kells has ever sung
I Wanna Sex You Up: No WAY! Shout out to Color Me Badd? REALLY?! I wonder if Kells really loves this song (thematically it's consistent with his repertoire) or if he just decided to sing it because he pre-funked for his concert by watching the seminal "Beverly Hills, 90210" episode where Donna catches her mom having an affair at the Bel Age Hotel while she's trying to meet Color Me Badd, who end up meeting Kelly, who convinces them to end the episode by cheering up Donna singing "I Adore Mi Amor" acapella to her at the Peach Pit over megaburgers with the gang. I'd be lying if I didn't say that the idea of Robert Sylvester Kelly preparing to bless us with his mackadelic nightspot realness by watching classic episodes of Bev Niner doesn't make me more than just a little bit wet.
Bump 'n' Grind (Old School Remix): Yes! I just heard Kells sing "show me some ID, before I get too deep" LIVE!
You Remind Me of Something: Morrissey'sHair told me that this is the official Razzy ringtone when I call him. It's because I remind him of his jeep, his sound, his car, and his bank account. OBVIOUSLY.
Bump 'n' Grind (Original): Like Tasti-D-Lite or multiple orgasms, you can never really have too much "Bump 'n' Grind." My mind's telling me no...actually no it's not. My mind is saying YES, YES, YES! KELLS!
Charlie Chaplin vaudeville sequence: Part of the show that falls under the heading of "downright mystifying." I don't know if Kells secretly loves silent film slapstick, but this was bizarre. It was even more bizarre in the context of a segue to what came next:
Beethoven's Fifth Symphony/laser light show: Ummm...I don't know if Kells was inspired by a trip to the Philharmonic or something, but I knew it was about to get real when Kells grabbed an oversized conductor's baton and the first dramatic chords of Beethoven's Fifth began echoing through the venue.
The Zoo: And thus began the beginning of the "extended jungle fantasia" that I was so eagerly anticipating. On an aside, LL Cool Jew does the funniest impression of the "ooo ooo ooo ooo aaa aaa aaa aaa" monkey noises from this song. I could listen to her do this all day.
Slow Wind: Finishing off the smoke machine-heavy, Kells-taken-prisoner-by-a-tribe-of-horny-video-vixen-Amazons jungle segment of the performance was J-Sexy's favorite song ever, topped off by a lengthy "You're a Jamaican queen...I'm an American king..." chorus. Beautiful. When I told J-Sexy that she hasn't lived until she's been exhorted by Kells to "put your voodoo on me, babe, kiss my lips and curse me, babe," she agreed that next time his tour comes around, she's getting a ticket.
Step In the Name of Love: An excuse to pull bitches out of the audience and force them to do the stepping dance in unison with R. Kelly. Steppin' is not just a dance, it's a culture, it's the way we live. As there were some big girls dragged up on stage, this was not only highly amusing, it's assured that indeed steppin' is what they eat, think, and breathe.
Happy People featuring extended TV theme medley: I don't know what the "Welcome Back, Kotter" theme song has to do with doubling up or happy people, but I'm not questioning Kells. It was a tremendous finale to a spectacular night. Actually, the most tremendous finale was when he announced that next year, he's blessing us with a new album, TP Fourth Quarter. Trust that I'm preordering that shit!
And speaking of happy people, here are two:
I don't even care that I look fat (because I'm American and I showed my patriotism by being gluttonous as hell on Thanksgiving...U!S!A! U!S!A!). All I know is that LL Cool Jew and I are sipping on the sizzurp (AKA $7 stadium plastic bottle Bud Light) and standing in front of a six-foot high airbrushed image of Kells chomping on a toothpick and looking hot as hell, because he's a player, homie, and that's a well-known factor.
The R. Kelly concert was every bit as unbelievable as you might imagine. Or maybe you wouldn't imagine it to be so eventful, since it's come to my attention that in spite of Kells attracting a new audience of despicable hipsters thanks to the IFC's embracing of "Trapped in the Closet," a lot of people still don't appreciate the genius of Robert Sylvester Kelly. However, as Kelefah Sanneh of the New York Times promised, it is indeed two and a half hours of "nothing but climax" and the incomparable King of R&B being "thrilling, hilarious, and downright mystifying, often all at once."
Even the trip to Long Island was thrilling, hilarious, and downright mystifying, because the dumbass morons who built the Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum DIDN'T BUILD IT ON THE LIRR. Who the fuck builds a stadium in a place where it is as difficult to reach by public transportation as possible? To get there, we had to take the LIRR to some godforsaken stop an hour from the city and then take a Nassau County bus. We made the train at the last minute and proceeded to get down to business acting like a couple of dumb kids, taking pictures of ourselves with what LL Cool Jew refers to as her "teenager phone" (due to its garish orange color and fancy pop-out texting keyboard and windows):
Upon our arrival in Hempstead, we were relieved to see that the bus stop was indoors, since the N70 bus we had to take wasn't there. When it did arrive, everyone piled on, including a group of very excited women led by a gold-toothed vixen named Keyshia. After listening to her discuss with her friends who the hottest Keyshia would be at the show (her or Keyshia Cole), they proceeded to get everyone on the bus worked up. "The RRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" she was shouting with her friends, which prompted the unnaturally friendly bus driver to get on his intercom and say, "Who here is going to see the RRRRRRRRRR?" When that got a favorable reaction from the bus riders, he added, "Who is going home with the RRRRRRRRRR?"
Keyshia and her crew went berserk. "He's the R in R&B!" one of them exclaimed.
"I think you mean the R-uh in R&B," I corrected her.
"The R-uh! Hell yes!" they crowed, pouring more liquor into their coffee cups. They then proceeded to tell us about all the times they've seen R. Kelly live, and explained that the reason he was playing at such a bitch-to-get-to venue rather than Madison Square Garden was on account of a lawsuit relating to the collapse of the R. Kelly/Jay-Z Best of Both Worlds tour, when Kells cut a set short after seeing someone with a gun in the audience and was maced in the face by some of Jay-Z's people. Alas, it would have been much easier to take the A train a few stops from my crib to the Garden, but then we probably never would have met Keyshia et al and been so remarkably entertained.
When we arrived at the Coliseum stop, we realized we had to cross the Hempstead Turnpike and a gargantuan parking lot. There was no crosswalk, so we were hesitant to race across a six-lane highway, particularly LL Cool Jew, who was wearing one of her standard pairs of cripplingly high stiletto heels. However, Keyshia once again took charge, and announced, "Bus people! Follow me!" before barging right into the road. Luckily we all made it across, and LL Cool Jew was able to snap a picture of me behind a line of the aforementioned "bus people."
"So, if Kells wanted to double up with us, would BigBagel give you a pass?" I asked LL Cool Jew. Her married status generally eliminates the possibility of her having groupie sex, but you never know. Some couples have arrangements. Or so I've heard.
"No WAY," said LL Cool Jew. "You'd have to take it for the team. But just so you know, I'd HAVE TO WATCH." Wouldn't be the first time I've had sex with an audience, but that's another story.
"You'd be the one in the chair, then," I said. This is a reference to the lyric "one in the bed, one in the chair, one massage my toes while one braid my hair" from the R-uh in R&B's album moniker and ode to threesomes "Double Up."
"Yeah, you'd have to be the one on the bed. I'd be in the chair, on braiding detail," agreed LL Cool Jew.
Shortly thereafter, Keyshia Cole came on stage, and after LL Cool Jew and I agreed that she's got a banging body and a great voice but is nonetheless not Mary J. Blige, we were getting impatient for Kells. Both of us were relieved that Ne-yo had dropped out of the tour and thus our Kells-related gratification wouldn't be further delayed by live renditions of "Sexy Love."
Then, after Keyshia went off and there was some hurried stage rearrangement, the moment we waited for arrived. Kells! LL Cool Jew was clever enough to write down his TWO AND A HALF HOUR LONG SET LIST, to augment this very blog posting.
The Champ: For the opening song, Kells ran out in an entirely bedazzled hooded robe saying "The Champ" on the back, with a pair of matching disco ball sneaks. Kells's grand entrance was augmented by an impressive pyrotechnical display. This was followed by a medley of R. Kelly's contributions to his many great collaborations:
That's That Shit: If you're lookin' for some good sex, holler at a player.
Fuckin' You Tonight: Although Kells didn't sing my favorite song in the "I spend money on you, now time to put out" vein, "Don't You Say No," this hook from his collaboration with the legendary Notorious B.I.G. was nonetheless well-received.
Hotel: We in our throwbacks, this is for the ladies, we got room keys. Isn't everything for the ladies? Sadly, Kells did not don a Bears throwback jersey during the show, nor did he offer us a room key. Oh well. Next time.
Wonderful: Kells is at the top of the world and life's a pussy buffet.
So Sexy: Isn't he, though? Twista, however, is NOT, and fortunately, his corpulent ass was not around to
We Thuggin': Take my relief at Twista's absence and multiply it by ten thousand, and you have my feelings about Fat Joe not showing up to duet this one with Kells.
Gigolo: If only Kells were a male prostitute, I know where my next paycheck would be going.
Snake: Nothing--and I mean NOTHING--compares to hearing "I like the way you move your cho-cha, it makes me wanna get to know ya" sung live.
Thoia Thoing: Kells from Chi-town live is even better than Kells "Japan via satellite," whatever the hell that means. I told LL Cool Jew about how I sang this song once at a karaoke bar to great effect, because nothing spices up a lesbian birthday party like me attempting to do the "Thoia Thoing" dance while singing about being "butt-naked with sweat socks and house shoes." What are "house shoes," anyway? Slippers?
Double Up: It's like routine, player.
Tryin' To Get a Number: I somehow suspect that neither Kells nor Nelly have to try that hard.
Hook It Up: Anytime.
An old school rap song that I'm pretty sure was Big Daddy Kane's "Brooklyn Style": Unnecessary, but who knew Kells could rap?
TP-2: Imagine thousands of overweight people singing "I'm horny as hell" and "It's about to get real kinky." Yikes.
Strip For You: When R. Kelly followed "three knocks at the door, now, baby...trenchcoat hits the floor, now baby," with a simulated cunnilingus move with his tongue, all the ladies (translation: 80-90% of the audience) went insane.
"The Loneliest Tongue": I don't know if this is just something Kells made up for this concert, but nothing follows up a silhouetted striptease designed to keep the audience busy during a wardrobe change like an acapella ode to licking snatch. "I'm just a lonely tongue," crooned a close-up of Kells's mouth on the big screens, "Looking for some BODY to lick, looking for some BODY to nibble on." LL Cool Jew and I were speechless. For the rest of the night I preceded everything with, "Well, as I'm just a lonely tongue..."
Seems Like You're Ready: This song ushered in the moment we had anticipated from the Times review. Namely, when R. Kells describes how he won't keep things tame because the audience is ready in the form of having their hair done, nails done, toes done, car washed, and...SIX! HUN! DRED! DOLLAR! WEAVE! Granted, I suspect that most of the weaves I saw went for considerably less than $600, but nonetheless, the ladies in the audience rocking fake hair clearly touched it up in preparation for the hotness that is Kells.
Down Low (Remix): I wonder if Kells and Ronald "Mr. Biggs" Isley regret the title of this song given what being on the down low means these days in the modern urban lexicon.
When a Woman's Fed Up: Not a single one in the audience was fed up from what I could see, but at least one must have been, because she sent her date up by our section to smoke blunts in peace, well away from her. Blunt Guy spent the rest of the concert blowing trees, at least until he fell asleep. Lightweight.
Your Body's Callin': I could hear it calling me.
R&B Thug: YES! YES! YES! I actually got to hear Kells sing, "And when you leave up out my room, you'll be walkin' bow-legged" and "ooh, Kelly, you make me holla, keep on jumpin' like an Impala" LIVE. I can die now. Also, I should add that this was prefaced by Kells noting that "every woman wants a thug with some church in him." True that.
Feelin' On Yo Booty: Yet another classic. The only thing that would be better is if he took out half his impeccably-braided cornrows like in the hotness that is the video for this song.
Ignition (Remix): And not a single bitch in the audience was singing Dave Chapelle's "Piss on You" lyrics to this classic Kells jam.
Fiesta: It was, with my homie from the Midwest-a.
I Wish: LL Cool Jew went nuts, since this is her favorite Kells "serious" song. Mine is "The World's Greatest," which sadly was omitted from this performance.
Real Talk: Kells said, "You're not going to believe this, but I just got a phone call. Hold on just one second while I take care of this." He whips out a cell phone and before he even started in on the "I was at a club with who? GET THE FUCK OUT," LL Cool Jew and I turned to each other and said, "REAL TALK. See, girl."
Make It Rain: As noted before, Fat Joe mercifully did not show up to sing along and to get sexy alongside my beloved Robert Sylvester. Even more mercifully, R. Kelly did not start a riot by pulling a Pac Man Jones and actually "making it rain" on the hoes in the front row. Shit would have gotten crazy had he actually started chucking $100 bills around. However, LL Cool Jew and I did discuss how much more this could have kicked ass had Dwayne Carter, AKA Lil' Wayne AKA Weezy Fuckin' Baby AKA Tha Carter, showed up to do his "yeeeah, I'm in this bitch with the Terror" hook to the song. Sadly, he's probably in jail somewhere and thus indisposed.
I'm a Flirt: While this was awesome, LL Cool Jew and I were seriously lamenting the fact that T-Pain was absent on this tour. I think that if T-Pain and R. Kelly were to tour together, my head might explode with excitement.
The big screens then showed footage of all Kells's entertainer friends wishing him luck on tour, including T-Pain, Common, Fat Joe, Kanye West, Ciara, and Snoop Dogg.
N Luv Wit a Stripper (Remix): "I'm gonna go down on my knees and ask that ass to marry me." Exactly the type of proposal every stripper wants, especially when they have so much in common, as Kells points out ("she's a stripper, I'm a freak"). What woman could say no to a sexy man with lines like "you keep my donk on swole" and "I wanna stick it, I wanna kiss it, if I could I'd stick my whole damn head in it." That's being n luv wit a stripper, trust.
Kells then showed a hilarious segment intended to appease the dudes who had been dragged along to his show on their dates, about all the silly antics he gets up to while he's on tour. "Don't fall asleep, that's the rule," he explained, before showing the consequences of doing so, which primarily involve sticking objects (pen, tissue paper, paper clips) up the slumberer's nose. If he's feeling creative, he might squirt mustard on you, too. That Kells is such a zany prankster!
Go Getta: When I first heard Kells sing "Young Jeeeeeezzzzzzy" I was like, "WHERE THE HELL IS THE SNOWMAN?" I was so hoping he would jiggle out on stage to augment Kells with some ad libs. For all I know, he could have been backstage with his alleged (ex-?) girlfriend Keyshia Cole. Alas, it seems Young Jeezy was back at his Hotlanta trap or whatever, but Kells still sang about coming up out the club with a shitload-a women, so I was happy.
"Make It Purple Rain": I'm unclear as to whether Kells was lauding or mocking Prince or not, but in any event he better watch out. Prince is suing everyone who uses anything that even hints at being about Prince. He's been suing dumbasses putting their YouTube vlogs to the tune of "1999" and "I Feel For You" right and left, and while I would die of happiness and delight if Prince secured an injunction forbidding Smith College acapella groups from ever butchering "When Doves Cry" again, it would be truly sad if he shut down the "Double Up" tour for copyright infringement. Hopefully Kells's tour managers worked out a licensing deal beforehand.
Next to You: Snore. I totally forgot about this song that Kells did with Ciara, but this would have been better spent singing either "The World's Greatest," "Sex Me," or "Leave your Name," all sad omissions from the setlist.
Same Girl: Since Usher is off getting pegged by his tranny man-wife, Kells asked our side of the auditorium to sing Usher's part to this song. Luckily, LL Cool Jew, myself, and every other bitch there knew the words to this song by heart, and were only too happy to oblige by singing "did she go to Georgia Tech?", "does she work for TBS?," and "does she love some Waffle House?" at the proper time.
Put My T-Shirt On: This song was accompanied by a cadre of dudes carrying those t-shirt shooting guns that they used to have at Sonics games. During halftime, when the Squatch was doing a variety of gymnastically impressive, springboard-assisted dunks, dudes in Sonics sweatsuits would shoot team logo shirts into the stands at Key Arena. Apparently, Kells thought this would be a nice touch to augment a song about how he wants to bang his woman because she looks so hot in his t-shirt.
Freaky In the Club: Does Kells get anything else besides freaky in the club? I think not.
Kells's next wardrobe change was augmented by a video tribute to his musical idols: Marvin Gaye, Bob Marley, Tupac Shakur, Biggie, his kids, and HIMSELF. God, I love this man. LOVE HIM!
Let's Get it On: As we just learned, Marvin Gaye is one of Kells's idols, so we were unsurprised that he was singing this. In fact, Marvin Gaye's influence is pretty obvious, considering that with the exception of the odd serious or religious song, almost every song Kells has ever sung
I Wanna Sex You Up: No WAY! Shout out to Color Me Badd? REALLY?! I wonder if Kells really loves this song (thematically it's consistent with his repertoire) or if he just decided to sing it because he pre-funked for his concert by watching the seminal "Beverly Hills, 90210" episode where Donna catches her mom having an affair at the Bel Age Hotel while she's trying to meet Color Me Badd, who end up meeting Kelly, who convinces them to end the episode by cheering up Donna singing "I Adore Mi Amor" acapella to her at the Peach Pit over megaburgers with the gang. I'd be lying if I didn't say that the idea of Robert Sylvester Kelly preparing to bless us with his mackadelic nightspot realness by watching classic episodes of Bev Niner doesn't make me more than just a little bit wet.
Bump 'n' Grind (Old School Remix): Yes! I just heard Kells sing "show me some ID, before I get too deep" LIVE!
You Remind Me of Something: Morrissey'sHair told me that this is the official Razzy ringtone when I call him. It's because I remind him of his jeep, his sound, his car, and his bank account. OBVIOUSLY.
Bump 'n' Grind (Original): Like Tasti-D-Lite or multiple orgasms, you can never really have too much "Bump 'n' Grind." My mind's telling me no...actually no it's not. My mind is saying YES, YES, YES! KELLS!
Charlie Chaplin vaudeville sequence: Part of the show that falls under the heading of "downright mystifying." I don't know if Kells secretly loves silent film slapstick, but this was bizarre. It was even more bizarre in the context of a segue to what came next:
Beethoven's Fifth Symphony/laser light show: Ummm...I don't know if Kells was inspired by a trip to the Philharmonic or something, but I knew it was about to get real when Kells grabbed an oversized conductor's baton and the first dramatic chords of Beethoven's Fifth began echoing through the venue.
The Zoo: And thus began the beginning of the "extended jungle fantasia" that I was so eagerly anticipating. On an aside, LL Cool Jew does the funniest impression of the "ooo ooo ooo ooo aaa aaa aaa aaa" monkey noises from this song. I could listen to her do this all day.
Slow Wind: Finishing off the smoke machine-heavy, Kells-taken-prisoner-by-a-tribe-of-horny-video-vixen-Amazons jungle segment of the performance was J-Sexy's favorite song ever, topped off by a lengthy "You're a Jamaican queen...I'm an American king..." chorus. Beautiful. When I told J-Sexy that she hasn't lived until she's been exhorted by Kells to "put your voodoo on me, babe, kiss my lips and curse me, babe," she agreed that next time his tour comes around, she's getting a ticket.
Step In the Name of Love: An excuse to pull bitches out of the audience and force them to do the stepping dance in unison with R. Kelly. Steppin' is not just a dance, it's a culture, it's the way we live. As there were some big girls dragged up on stage, this was not only highly amusing, it's assured that indeed steppin' is what they eat, think, and breathe.
Happy People featuring extended TV theme medley: I don't know what the "Welcome Back, Kotter" theme song has to do with doubling up or happy people, but I'm not questioning Kells. It was a tremendous finale to a spectacular night. Actually, the most tremendous finale was when he announced that next year, he's blessing us with a new album, TP Fourth Quarter. Trust that I'm preordering that shit!
And speaking of happy people, here are two:
Labels: hilarious shit, hot dudes, I LOVE IT, intentional buffoonery, LL Cool Jew, rap, Razzification, ridiculous absurdity, Robert Sylvester Kelly
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