Most guilty pleasures are more “embarrassing pleasures,” but I really do feel guilty for liking R. Kelly. Maybe I should be, but I’m not embarrassed by lyrics like “Girl, flex/Time to have sex” and titles like “Sex Planet” — “Sex Planet” is a great title. And I’m not embarrassed by enjoying his genre. The slow jam is one of the best types of jams, right up there with NBA Jams and Jock Jams. What makes me feel guilty is that little thing about his indictment on child pornography charges.
Sure, he was acquitted, but now every time I listen to “The Zoo” (“Like Jurassic Park except I’m your Sexasaurus”) I find myself in the throes of an internal moral dilemma about separating art from its artist. I ask myself, “Is this really the kind of guy whose art I want to be supporting?” It’s an endless cycle: I feel guilty, I justify listening to him, he sings a lyric like “Show me some ID before I get knee deep” and I feel guilty all over again.
