The outlandishly talented Robert Kelly has caught Double CD Syndrome on his latest opus, R. 29 songs deep, this grandiose statement of ego and greed sounds much like music Michael Douglas' character in Wall Streetcould relate to, the unabashed money grubbing of the long, lost 80s alive and well here. From opening the CD (where it reads, "See this man, know this man, touch this man, embrace this man, pay this man, believe this man, trust this man, belong to this man, take care of this man, love this man, pray for this man") to the gangsteresque, cigar puffing promo pictures within, Little Richard could take self esteem lessons from this guy. There is no mistake that quality material is here -- it's almost impossible for a talented musician to make almost thirty tracks and not stumble on something great, no matter how greedy. However, what lingers in between is more than tedious, it's an insult to the listener, and a really bad aftertaste.

The high points: the smash hit "I Believe I Can Fly." Originally a Michael Jordan anthem in Space Jam, this runaway single has become the tune of two television marketing campaigns, has been put into play at radio stations everywhere, and will virtually insure that R. Kelly and his children will never work again. On top of being that successful, it's that good, even on second, third, and millionth listenings. Simple, pure, inspirational.

"Don't Put Me out." In the tradition of repentant R&B singers, this song goes to the wall lyrically and musically. as an unfaithful Kelly tries desperately to get back into his house. From one perspective, it's funny as heck and from another it's an instant R&B classic in the tradition of the Dells, the Temps, and so on.

"Down Low Double Life" is a delicate piano-laced player's anthem reminiscent of "Gigolos get lonely too." "One Man" is a thoughtful song about how only one man can screw up a woman's attitude, and how that's a bad thing. "When a Woman's Fed Up" approaches the topic from a phone booth, callin' Tyrone (an affectionate reference to Erykah Badu's single).

The low points: "Only The Loot Can Make Me Happy," "Money Makes The World Go Round," and "Dollar Bill." Discounting the boring guest rap by Nas and the rancid appearance of style-stealing Foxy Brown, these songs not only say nothing lyrically, but are based on such elementary musicianship or Puffy-level sampling that they could have been easily cut, bringing this album back into a manageable size.

"Home Alone" with Keith Murray. The lead single, this song has about as much significance and weight as a rice cake. Ditto the meaningless, Popular Artists Cameo Song "We Ride" with Jay-Z, Cam'Ron, Noreaga and Vegas Cats. Kelly has been known as "Mr. Bump & Grind" for his waist-level lyrics and bass-heavy production for years, but taking a page from dancehall on "Half On A Baby," "Get Up On A Room," and so on beat the dead horse of this topic with no new inflections, no new ideas, not even a new sound on Kelly's synthesizer from the millions of other songs he's written about it. The fast forward button will get lots of use here.

Over all, like most double albums of this day and age, this would have made a fine EP of seven songs or so, and a skit. As it is, instead of R, the album should be titled Send Me Money So I Can Laugh About How I'm Killing Soul Music. R probably fit better on the CD cover, though.