R. Kelly rating graphicR. Kelly sings about sex, sexy women and having sex with those sexy women.

At this point, it’s to be expected; even his biggest pop crossovers are just as likely to be bumped (literally) in the bedroom as they are on the dance floor. And despite his troubled past with the subject — the 48-year-old R&B singer has been accused of rape more than once and was involved (but acquitted) in a child pornography trial over an infamous sex tape — R. Kelly’s late-career music hasn’t shifted its focus from sex. 2013’s Black Panties was one of his raunchiest releases to date, featuring “my life is a porno” anthems like “Legs Shakin” and “Marry the P—-” — both self-serious, absurdly sexual songs, gross enough to make listeners both laugh and swear they’ll become celibate.

But just in case you were hoping that The Buffet — this year’s innocently titled follow-up to Black Panties — would be a change of pace for the King of R&B, the album’s opening track goes out of its way to tell you otherwise.

“The Poem” is exactly what the name suggests, a spoken-word introduction that doubles as the most uncomfortable minute and 19 seconds of an album in 2015. It’s the type of thing you never want to listen to using earbuds — R. Kelly’s soft-spoken seduction and mid-poem slurping (which lasts for a whole six seconds) are even worse when they’re being whispered directly into your ear.

Luckily, “The Poem” is over quickly (although it seems like an eternity). But considering the actual music begins with the track “Poetic Sex,” which boasts the opening lines “My sex is poetic/ I’m about to get your mind pregnant,” it’s clear from the get-go that The Buffet is a one-dish affair.

Not to say that Kelly isn’t capable of doing that one thing incredibly well. Mid-tempo R&B cuts like the Jhene Aiko-featuring “Let’s Make Some Noise” and the throwback jam “All My Fault” are modern takes on the type of tracks that made Kelly a superstar.

Musically, many of the songs bear a striking resemblance to Jeremih’s Late Nights: The Album, which debuted a week before The Buffet. But while Jeremih, featured here on the trap-leaning “Switch Up,” has made strides to separate himself from his early cornball sex songs like “Birthday Sex,” R. Kelly continues to shun subtlety in favor of face-value tracks about f——.

And against the odds set by the album’s first few tracks, that decision occasionally works in his favor. “Marching Band” is immediately attention-grabbing, with a lively, horn-y beat and horny lyrics to match. Sure, the Juicy J verse beats the “sex is like music” concept to death, but it’s a fun track and one of the most unique on the album. Kelly finds a new tempo for his carnal confessions on the upbeat house of “Wake Up Everybody,” an ode to disregarding your neighbors’ sleep patterns.

But these brief excursions aren’t enough to save an album weighed down by Kelly’s preconceived notions of what his own music should sound like. In an interview withEntertainment Weekly about the album, he claimed that he had written 462 songs for The Buffet, and he thought they were all hits. There should barely be any reason to doubt him, as Kelly has been releasing great R&B since the early ’90s. And maybe it’s an album full of hits in his mind, but compared with other R&B albums in 2015, The Buffet has too few choices and enough overindulgence to leave listeners unsatisfied and slightly nauseous.