Wheel.

So this post is long enough to count for both Thursday and tonight. I actually started writing it last night, but my wacked out connection wasn’t about letting one on to post so I gave up and finished it tonight. Anyway, you know that expression, “reinventing the wheel,” occurred to me as I thought about my musical tastes this week. I've been meaning to discuss my theories of sorts for some time now. They're not really theories, just observational questions, more like it. This could turn into a series, as there are a few other people who are hip today that are like perpetrators in a way … carrying on legacies of people my old soul feels truly embody greatness in such a way that makes me think maybe I was here in this world before …

Tonight though, we begin with –

1. Marvin Gaye. I love him, but it's no secret he was one of those tormented souls. I remember wondering why he always had these voices chit-chatterin' in the background of songs like “What's Going On” and “Got To Give It Up.” I asked somebody in my family about it at one of those gatherings where the music was playing and they were like, because he was crazy and that's probably what he was hearing in his head - he was paranoias skittsafrennik.

Thankfully, I had another elder nearby who could properly enunciate, spell and elaborate well enough so that I could then find an encyclopedia and a dictionary to put together my own pieces. So I deduced that he was crazy, and that maybe he heard these voices or whatever - and maybe they weren't the imaginary friendly ones I was holding out for...

Anyway, few people contest that his music and messages weren't just genius - insightful and intelligent; sensual and sexy; current and yet somehow timeless. It got me to thinking about R. Kelly and how I've heard in conversations, read in magazines, etc. that he's considered a genius of our generation, a tormented genius similar to Marvin Gaye.

Now I will admit right off the bat that, just like Michael Jackson, the guy has some good songs; however, he's troubled. Some would even go so far as to say, "touched." I've overheard and been a part of some debates where the words "R. Kelly" and "genius" have often been joined closely by an "is" and an "a" and in true bougie style I have to titter an, "I beg to differ," which is followed closely by a not-so-bougie "cuz you is GOT to be out yo' damn mind."

This is the problem with debating - you've got to set rules, and to set rules, everybody needs to agree to aspire to some common level; we've got to decide beforehand what page we're going to meet up on. In my family, I wonder if this is even possible. I'm not smart enough to be an elitist, not rich enough to be a real snob, but I have my moments where my disdain could qualify as contemptible. The Jimmy Carter in me likes to say that we are all educated, just in different and uniquely spey-shul ways - which is totally true. We all have our gifts, but gracious me.

R. Kelly is a genius? I just don't know about that.

Y'all, he peed on somebody. You can cut your own ear off or seclude yourself in a cabin by a pond and transcend all thought; you can wear your hair however, but an important component of genius has to be that you keep it to yourself.

I think we can all agree on this; I know most everybody I've talked to agree that we think it was him on that tape and that it's just plain nasty and sick; we all agreed that he probably took Aaliyah, back, back and forth; we all admitted that though we sang our hearts out to it, “I Believe I Can Fly” should not be heard in church; we all agreed that he might be crazy; and lastly we all agreed that crazy doesn't equal genius, because as I know for myself, there are several relatives on standby to serve as real-life examples.

So how is this jokah a genius? I heard one person say it was because his music touched people. Touching people, via bodily fluids or radio waves, does not a genius make, my friend. That makes him a successful musician or a lucky one, maybe even a popular one, but not a genius.

He's a genius because he's been through a lot and he's still standing and his songs still get played on the radio, people still go to see R., he's unstoppable. Lots of people have been through a lot and still stand - that makes them resilient or persistent, or again, they may just be lucky or maybe they're just rich enough to hire decent lawyers, but that does not qualify as genius.

At this time I raise the question, a genius just is, right? You don't become a genius. You can be discovered as being a genius, but it's not like there are tick marks to check off on the way; it's not like you set goals like, I'm smart right now, eventually I'll be intelligent and astute and then, genius! I feel that either you are a genius or you aren’t. You don’t cultivate genius.

He's just like Marvin Gaye, said someone else. He makes music you can make love to.

This settles it. Say WHAT?!

“Bump 'n Grind” versus “Sexual Healing?” No.

The Man sang “I want you, the right way” people. He even added in "the right way," mind you. “I want you and I want you to want me, too.” This means he was open to the mutuality agreement, which is nice. Cordial. Sure he wanted to get some, and the song's vibe is slick, but he's still gentlemanly enough to not freak a lady out.

Conversely we have, “You Remind Me of Something” (First of all, “of Something.” If I’m important to you, can’t you place me in some sort of identifiable reference? Um, not exactly, but you do “remind me of my Jeep. I wanna ride it.”). Um. Yeah. Thanks, but I'll just keep it moving. Again, we weren't all on the same page here because one time this came up at a party and a couple of girls didn't seem to think there was any difference between being ridden versus being wanted and yet allowed to consider whether or not they wanted to, too.

But really. Where is the comparison? It's weak at best. Yes, I know “Step In The Name of Love” gets me steppin' just like “Got To Give It Up” makes me give in to the dance floor, but Marvin Gaye and R. Kelly aren't in the same class. Their backgrounds may be muddled with dysfunctional relationships and pain. It is undoubtedly hard to make music that people want to hear, and that road is a lonely one I'm sure, but they're just not in the same class as far as I'm concerned. Marvin Gaye had a conscience - hell, it probably was one of the voices he was hearing - that questioned what was going on in this world.

R. Kelly doesn't ask questions, but he does offer us onomatopoeia (“Thoia Thoing”), as well as observations as to what opportunities he's seeing from behind his Zorro-like mask: “I Like the Crotch On You,” “Feelin' On Yo Booty,” “The Greatest Sex,” “(Sex) Love Is What We Makin’” and “Half On A Baby.”

Just compare it very quickly to: “Let’s Get It On,” “Sexual Healing,” “I Want You” and “Distant Lover.”

Don’t forget the songs that have “touched” people. Let us compare those as well. On the one hand we have the likes of “What’s Going On,” “Inner City Blues,” “Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology),” “Trouble Man” and “Piece of Clay.” While on the other hand we have “I Believe I Can Fly,” “You Saved Me” and “Heaven, I Need A Hug.” I won’t go too far into it, but I’d like to point out how those R. Kelly songs all feature “I” or “Me” … I’m just sayin’ that these are just observations.

Oh, and there’s one more category where you could compare the two: duets. Marvin partnered up with Tammi Terrell and Diana Ross, among others, to sing songs about relationships. R. Kelly has partnered with Sparkle, Mr. Biggs and Jay-z, among others, to sing/talk/rap about relations:

“It Takes Two,” “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,” “Stop, Look, Listen (To Your Heart),” “If This World Were Mine” versus “When A Woman’s Fed Up,” “What Would You Do,” “Showdown” and a trio of specials – “Shorty,” “Honey” and the p-word that’s really too foul even for cuss-happy-me to type out. Ugh.

This all just fits right into the argument that old school old folks have with music they hear today. I may not be old enough to be on their side, but like I said the other night, I was raised on a good diet of music. Mew. Zick. This is back when a man loved a woman and tried a little tenderness to figure out, who's that lady. “Sexual Healing.” It’s about healing people. Not bumpin' and grindin' and then I'm hiding in a closet. Take me back to when folk could just close the door, turn off the light and get between the sheets without us really having to receive a 12-step account of what actually happens between the sheets. Back when “Let’s Get It On” was a coy and subtle way of inviting one to voulez vous coucher avec moi, as opposed to “Don’t You Say No” because “Your Body’s Callin’.”

This is about all mystery, all allure and the subtleties of sensuality being lost or ignored. It's all tied together too, because you look back and you could tell someone had a nice figure without having to see the crack of their tail; tattoos might've been surprises pleasant or not-so-much, but they weren't gaudy accessories; this is back when men had waists and you weren't familiar with his undergarments upon first sight.

I imagine a time existed when people actually paused to ask what your name was, instead of pssting at you. I think about there being a time when there was enough time spent to form a relationship so, if destiny had it, it ended after it’d begun, as opposed to really being over before it started. Today’s relationships involve a lot of “confessions,” like “I am with someone else right now as I’m talking to you, I hope that’s cool with you because it’s cool with me, but I have to tell you that I’m feelin’ you right now and I know a place where we could spend some time, and I know you don’t know me all that well, but I know we should hook up so, uh, why not?”

In a day where recording artists sample tracks from days gone by, it certainly feels to me that much is lost in translation. I don’t mind the sampling so much because it’s good music today’s artists are using. This is where that “reinventing the wheel” phrase keeps popping up into my head, which leads me to ask firstly, what’s wrong with the wheel that it needs to reinvented? And if we must reinvent the damn thing, can anybody please tell me where we’re rollin’?