“Your brain thinks in words; your soul thinks in music.”
It was an inscription carved into a metal picture frame I was gifted with several years ago, but one that fits me to a T because I specialize in both modes of expression. And if an author or musician can consistently evoke emotions within me by an astute turn of phrase, the mastery of a high note or dropping powerful rhymes over a fly beat, chances are that I am a proud card-carrying fan.
Whether it’s the childhood block party where I first heard Michael Jackson’s “Off The Wall,” the giddy joy I felt while hearing Stevie Wonder live or clutching the hand of a crooning Diana Ross, music is an essential element of my personal and professional life. If I’m not creating ringtones or custom mixes to play in the car, I’m watching the biopic of a favorite artist or writing a CD or concert review. Like a classic hip-hop jam from Erick Sermon once proclaimed, “Taking away all your worries or cares, any problems music will be right there/ Together a match yo’, we’re a perfect pair.”
But sometimes a musician’s talent is so eclipsed by the heinous deeds he or she has committed that they taint those melodies forever, which is why I cannot support, understand or even stomach any allegiance behind the troubled R&B superstar R. Kelly.
For every soul-stirring ballad, hit collaboration or hot remix he produced, rumors of inappropriate conduct and relations with underaged girls have persisted. The scandal first surfaced in 1994 with his secret marriage to his late protege, R&B performer and actress, Aaliyah, when she was 15 and he was 27. That union was annulled, but reports of young victims continued and in 2002 he was accused of making a sex tape with an underaged girl.
He was tried and acquitted of child pornography charges in 2008, after years of trial continuances. And throughout the years, R. Kelly continued racking up the hits and touring for large crowds of loyal fans.
Despite longstanding rumors of his abuse of young girls, followers regularly dismissed them and many even blamed the victims more than the alleged aggressor: “That’s what those fast-tailed girls get!” “She didn’t look like she was underaged on the tape!” “Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis got with young girls, why do they keep trying to down a brother?”
Seriously? To fans, R. Kelly’s musical Midas touch makes him immune to accountability and renders him more valuable than the young girls he’s exploited (and settled lawsuits from). With such an overwhelming stigma attached to his rep, how admirers can continue listening to him or featuring R. Kelly in awards ceremonies (such as his show-closing performance during last month’s Soul Train Awards)?
There are some who may chalk up my avoidance and disdain of R. Kelly as being a bit much: no one is perfect after all, including me, and some of our world’s greatest geniuses are equal parts dazzling and dysfunctional. But as a woman and the uber-protective mother of two young daughters, I cannot allow his skill set to circumvent those disturbing insinuations. And all of the catchy vocals in the world, at least for my conscience, can’t put that “Pied Piper’s” music back in tune.
