and the gates will open up when they see it's me and you
R. Kelly, for all his faults, is a cultural terrorist, even if he doesn't know it. Here, he yodels midway through a "sex in the morning, sex all day" song. The man cannot be stopped, in terms of full blown avant-garde weirdness hidden inside what looks like sexxx jamz. Forget his self-designation as the Pier Piper of R & B. He is the Kurt Schwitters.
Albeit a Kurt Schwitters with the decency to let his partner take a break to "wash your face, get something to eat." Thoughtful pragmatism, and the ringing echo of the yodel, which seems, disturbingly, intended to function as the radio-friendly stand-in for screams of pleasure.
Which then conjures this, with it eerie non-green screen but disjunctive video feel, as Franz Lang floats ethereal, an inflated Homunculus through the geriatric picnic...