There's No Body Behind Lady Gaga and R. Kelly's Performances

Much of love has to do with chemistry. If you either are someone or are related to someone who watched daytime soaps you know the love match has to sizzle on screen for it to be convincing. On paper putting Lady Gaga together with the more chart and libido tested R. Kelly seemed like a good idea. The lamentable fact of the matter is their "Do What You Want" collaboration doesn't amount to much more than a slightly down tempo way to work off those pounds acquired after a self indulgent dinner of fast food. Don't misunderstand me. The background is plenty sweaty enough. But all that's left behind the scenes is some street tough posturing from R and the grating after several listens caterwauling of "Do what you want with my bo-dy." I doubt there are too many people who warm up to a solid dose of nagging, in the bedroom or otherwise. Repetition is what makes a song hook inviting. The more instant reaction that is attached to this hook is "Pardon me folks, I'm closing the door on this thinly veiled stab at innuendo." If it makes R more at ease in his own skin I'm not one of those haters he's motivated to rough up. Believe me I've looked in the mirror lately. There's no way I'm winning that smackdown. On to more analysis of this reverse cougar relationship duet. Anyone out there bored with hearing about the trials and tribulations of being a glam celeb for whom the glare of the spotlight has become a strain? If so, that's easy to relate to. Poor dears. All the cash and acclaim and attention and heavy breathing must result in some hideous beast of a migraine. We can do what we want with Gaga's body. Leave her heart and mind alone. At times it's a good thing Gaga knows how to sell her rather elaborate image because lyrics like aren't a convincing overture to my wanting to first undress her with my eyes and then proceed to the visual demonstration of manly aggression. You'll notice it's got just the right tempo for plugging away on the Stairmaster, albeit at the slowest or second slowest speed. If you focus hard enough you'll agree there's something about the mood of the song that calls out for a headband, a fresh towel, and a bottle of nearby Evian water. As one of the reigning pop divas I'm sure Gaga needs to constantly put out at least a small pebble of artistry to ensure her "little monsters" that their queen hasn't forgotten to nurture them properly. Too bad "Do What You Want" barely advanced past the stage of fluffy appetizer. Maybe R. Kelly was trying to inject his aura back into the public eye. After all "Sex Me" was, in music trend terms, a lifetime ago. "Do What You Want" hopefully won't take you nearly as long to forget. A fresh concept is in order. Yeah, we get that you're not bothered by what the media rags print about you. Yes, we see you writhing in anticipation for the desire to rip your clothes off. How sad it is to be a jaded music listener. Don't put on a makeshift exercise tape with your unavoidable celeb hoof prints on it and expect I'll melt like ice cream in the hot Texas sun. Not for a second is this the condemnation of a man who's set in his musical ways. I'm merely saying that the wide gulf between the slot on the Best Buy (those do still exist all you app navigating young whippersnappers!!) shelf and a slot in my music library only gets shortened when the talent involves doesn't whip up a batch of the gyrations I've had placed on my table too many times to mention. Once in a while it would be nice if substance triumphed over style. "Do What You Want" is not one of those times.