the last exit

I just ran across the most incredible thing on Tumblr…

grimaugury reblogged alexher, who knows of this forum where, eight years ago, John Darnielle explained his love for “Ignition - Remix” by R. Kelly. If you visit the forum, you can see a young Matthew Perpetua engaging John in the discussion.

These are some of the highlights from John:

How is this song in particular a good “weekend” song? For starters, there’s the delay in mentioning the weekend. Note a shitty “weekend” song, Loverboy’s “Working for the Weekend,” for purposes of comparison, which shoots its entire wad in the chorus’s first line & then has nothing compelling to say. Not so “Ignition - Remix.” R Kelly delays the song’s moment of revelation until the chorus’s second to last line:

This is the remix to ignition
Hot and fresh out the kitchen
Mama rollin that body
Got every man in here wishin
Sippin on coke and rum
I’m like so what I’m drunk
It’s the freakin weekend baby
I’m about to have me some fun

What could be funnier than R Kelly’s ongoing project of writing new lyrics in which to identify that the version you’re hearing is a remix? Think R Kelly doesn’t know that that’s funny? Where the hell’s my boy Trife, he knows what that kind of thinking is called: “racism.”

Of course Kelly knows that it’s funny to lead of a chorus with a line like “this is the remix to ignition.” Kelly’s whole persona, aside from his public/non-album one which has gotten completley away from him, is a greatly controlled, beautifully constructed thing. It’s the good-time-lovin’/deep-thoughts-thinkin’/survived-it-and-came-to-tell-you-how-it-looks-from -the-mountaintop friend from your own neighborhood, assuming that your neighborhood was a poor neighborhood in the midwest. He knows his audience, and his audience wants him to keep it light when he’s making a party song. That’s what this is about.

Your neighborhood probably wasn’t Kelly’s poor midwestern block, right? Wrong! Of course it was! Because he goes to great pains to universalize that neighborhood, not through long dull paragraphs like these you’re presently reading, but by the miraculously casual tone in which he delivers songs that are anything but casual. Try “The World’s Greatest”: think there was no malice-of-forethought behind the “ad-libbed” part at the end where he substitutes “I done made it” for “I made it”? Think again. That’s there by design. It sells you exactly what you’re accusing Kelly doing accidentally: it convinces you (successfully, I’d add) that there’s no artifice, no craft to it.

Therefore, R Kelly has won and the terrorists have lost.

The extra beat! The extra m*therfu*king BEAT! It’s a held chord, is what it is, but it’s the last thing you’d expect - right on the line “Bouncin’ on 24s,” right when you’d expect it to either go back to the tonic or jump into the chorus, and it just

hangs

there

And then we enter into the levels of reference again, which is where I get completely dizzy “Rollin’ on 24s/while they say on the radio”: what do they say? Oh, good God, they say what critical theory thought they’d say: “This is the remix to igntion” which is to say that the song describes a party where they’re listening to the radio play a song describing a party where they’re listening to the radio playing a a song describing a party where they’re listening to the radio playing a song describing a party and well you get the general idea. Which is joy itself! The song has absorbed its creators, its listeners, everybody!

When in fact he does normally do this - unless there’s some Ignition Mega-Mix 12” coming (we should all be so fortunate), Kelly is claiming that he doesn’t normally release the remix at all, then saying he’ll let you hear a little of it, and then just playing it. And, well - precisely: this is more of that quality Kelly brings to the table that has enabled him to stay strong at the cash register longer than many: it’s the dreaded “A” word, you know, “authenticity,” all the baggage that carries.

Not the authenticity of “here’s my soul,” though that’s in there, too, and more about it later. The authenticity of “here’s what I got, seems good, I’m not gonna mess with it much more.” The authenticity of sufficiency, not excellence. The authenticity of excellence is exactly why so many people vomit when other people start goin’ on about authenticity.

But what we’re going to have to come back to is what Nabisco brings up & it’s where any hyperbole in which we’ve been engaging will really find its feet and start doing the Charleston. “WTF, why is R Kelly turning into Sam Cooke?” because R Kelly is Sam Cooke

There’s the sudden change in vocal tone in the chorus, right at “mama rollin’ that body” - where R Kelly reveals himself to be not just a consummate soul singer, but a pretty clued-in one. Loop that damned line. “Mama rollin’ that body”: who’s that? It’s not Kelly. I mean it is him singing, but whose moves is he copping?

Let’s posit that somebody involved with this record has heard some dancehall. and let’s further posit that R Kelly is that guy, which is a lot more probable than the “oh-but-he’s-do-dumb” crowd would like to admit, but all the disparate elements in his style suggest either the happiest accident of all time or a remarkable keen ear for when to put what where.

I mean listen to that, for the love of heaven listen to it, it’s the depthless endless joy of pop music compressed into one word repeated four times: “bounce bounce bounce bounce”

but beyond the pop joy of “bounce bounce” it’s the sound of beleaguered R Kelly, whose troubles are known to even a casual pop listener but are known well by exactly the people who he’d rather knew nothing about them: people like me, the people who bought TP-2.com even though it had one of the worst album titles of all time