Kelly came up in the last wave of New Jack, and some of that style seeped into his debut. Though he always was a hell of a singer, nothing in the dozen songs of 12-Play suggested he was in it for the long run. 

 Kelly came up in the last wave of New Jack, and some of that style seeped into his debut. Though he always was a hell of a singer, nothing in the dozen songs of 12-Play suggested he was in it for the long run. 

 R. Kelly has its moments–particularly the astounding cheater's plaint, "When a Woman's Fed Up"–but Kelly can't keep it up for two full discs. 

 R. Kelly has its moments–particularly the astounding cheater's plaint, "When a Woman's Fed Up"–but Kelly can't keep it up for two full discs. 

 TP-2 is early Kelly at his most wacked-out; at one point he assumes the voice of God to lecture himself.  

 TP-2 is early Kelly at his most wacked-out; at one point he assumes the voice of God to lecture himself.  

 If R. Kelly was ducking for cover, you couldn't tell on the celebratory, mega-horny Chocolate Factory, an album that's equal parts sappy and smutty, dripping with his warmest pick-up joints to date. 

 If R. Kelly was ducking for cover, you couldn't tell on the celebratory, mega-horny Chocolate Factory, an album that's equal parts sappy and smutty, dripping with his warmest pick-up joints to date. 

 More obliviously joyful, the 21-track Happy People/U Saved Me starts with a disc of Stevie-soaked sunshine–a cartoonishly happy album that's ultimately more suspicious than infectious. 

 More obliviously joyful, the 21-track Happy People/U Saved Me starts with a disc of Stevie-soaked sunshine–a cartoonishly happy album that's ultimately more suspicious than infectious. 

 By TP.3 Reloaded, Kelly's lyrics became horny to the point of being completely unhinged (the hilarious "In The Kitchen," the curious "Sex Weed") and conceptual to the point of demented. 

 By TP.3 Reloaded, Kelly's lyrics became horny to the point of being completely unhinged (the hilarious "In The Kitchen," the curious "Sex Weed") and conceptual to the point of demented. 

 Double Up explodes with bottle-popping club bangers, co-starring an all-star lineup of guest rappers. Kelly's usual velvety Casanova jams are present too, but he's more likely than ever to stumble into goofy, low-concept weirdness. 

 Double Up explodes with bottle-popping club bangers, co-starring an all-star lineup of guest rappers. Kelly's usual velvety Casanova jams are present too, but he's more likely than ever to stumble into goofy, low-concept weirdness. 

 For Untitled, Kelly mostly dwells in the slow jams that made 12 Play a classic, but he effortlessly injects them with the electro-tinged sheen of contemporary club music and the trunk-rattling boom of Southern hip-hop.  

 For Untitled, Kelly mostly dwells in the slow jams that made 12 Play a classic, but he effortlessly injects them with the electro-tinged sheen of contemporary club music and the trunk-rattling boom of Southern hip-hop.