Kellz proved his weight in Pied Piper Saturday (November 24) in Uniondale, NY, with a three-hour extravaganza that was as much career retrospective as high-concept arena tour.
Like the Olympics and Congressional Conventions, Robert Sylvester Kelly saw fit to open his performance at Long Island’s Nassau Coliseum with the National Anthem - so when the iconic singer finally took to the stage, outfitted in diamond-encrusted hoodie and fleet-footed behind a boxing ring, the audience was already out of their seats.

But it’s not like the Pied Piper needed a ploy to get it poppin. Perhaps recognizing that the Double Up tour might be his last for awhile, the singer spent every iota of his extensive performance showing and proving he’s earned his title as Mr. Showman, the king of R&B, beginning and ending with his reedy voice, so familiar and agile. After his grand entrance, he put up his dukes to booming chants of “The Champ is Here” (somebody holler at Green Lantern) and ran through his vast stable of hits - singing at least a few lines from even oft-requested titles like “Bump N Grind,” “Forever More,” “Down Low,” “Feelin’ On Yo Booty,” and “Ignition.” Magnum-powered by a team of six dancers, a live band and a hype-man (Milton?), the three-hour extravaganza was as much a career retrospective as a high-concept, grand arena tour. And, as with any retrospective, there was a little bit of reflection. “I wanna thank you for supporting me through thick and thin, for 17 years,” he noted several times throughout the night, at one point appearing like he might actually cry. Shadowing his gratitude, of course, was his pending trial for child-pornography charges, delayed for years but now finally seeing light with a tentative court date in spring of next year. There was a finality to his thankfulness, as if he, long untouchable, could no longer deny the gravity of his situation.

But with Kells, where there is gravity, there’s always a healthy dose of grandiosity to balance it out.

And that he did, his velvety voice fluttering on every timeless melody, his crowd-captivating charisma on full blast, his Swarovski crystal-encrusted cane waving around erect, a not-so-subtle extension of his, um, thoia-thoing. He performed “Strip for You” behind a camera that silhouetted his body, and definitely dropped his pants. For “Slow Wind,” one of his dancers crawled out from beneath a throne to perform a highly complicated lap dance. He clearly relished every moment. But even as his show got increasingly explicit, he apologized for saying “motherfuckas.” (”Excuse my French,” Kellz disclaimed politely.)

As he launched into a run of his newer songs, it became clear his catalogue, comprised largely of grown-ass bedroom anthems for freaky adults, has gotten younger as he’s aged. The tracks from Double Up are more influenced by contemporary rap than anything he’s ever done - trussed up with jeep-beats and street synths, sung in aggressive cadence. He spent an half-hour performing his biggest hits of the year - most of which were his features on ’07’s top pop remixes, from “We Takin’ Over” and “Promise” to “Buy U a Drank” and, just for good measure, “I’m in Love with a Stripper.” Lacking any guest-stars (he didn’t really need any), he aired a video of his high-powered pals stoking the crowd to shout-outs: Ciara, Snoop, T-Pain, Fat Joe, and Common (who evoked the most applause, which my companion said proved the audience was definitely middle-aged).

Kellz also showed why he earned his reputation as an unmitigated wild man. At his most satisfyingly scripted, he indulged his taste for theatrics with play-acted routines that mirrored the passion of community theatre - and dripped with the kind of performative melodrama that only megastars like Michael Jackson, Madonna, and Prince have the presence to successfully pull off. For “Zoo,” that monkey-hooting sexaphor ballad on Double Up, Kellz’ dancers - donning leopard-print bikinis - “kidnapped” him and tied him up. As he sang, kneeling on the ground with six women lipsynching to the sound of lion’s roars around him, he actually busted up laughing. Anyone who discounts his own self-awareness doesn’t giving the man enough credit. And yet, for all his humor and likeability, his audience cannot forget his alleged infractions. In between songs, hecklers could be heard from the stands: “What happened to Ne-Yo?!” one yelled, referring to the opener who was dropped from the tour amid rumored controversy. And, as the performance began to wrap up, one fan got the courage to holler the worst: “R. Kelly, I’m 13, will you go out with me?”

What could he do? The band played on. “Happy People,” one of Kells’ most gorgeous and transcendent songs, is his vision of a carefree world, where folks could step and love with abandon - his melancholy interpretation of heaven, it’s half-celestial fantasia, half Chi-city club. And so it was right that he ended his concert with that track, a posse of audience members dancing onstage behind him. Dressed in an oversized white tuxedo with coattails, the crowd safely in his palm, he weaved his song into a medley of choruses: “This Christmas,” “Joy and Pain,” and somewhat bewilderingly, the theme songs to long-syndicated TV shows “Love Boat” and “Welcome Back, Kotter.” As he closed out his medley to the theme from “Good Times,” the sky opened up and a blizzard of silver-and-white confetti fluttered down upon the audience, glittering snow from Kellz’ personal nirvana. “Not getting hassled, not getting hustled. Keepin’ your head above water. Making a wave when you can. Good Times.” He belted it like it was gospel. Like he meant it.