Kelly brings down the house (ok, bits of ceiling) (8 photos)

The score was tied at six apiece before Dan and I arrived at Bottom's Up on Tuesday night.

Our entrance into what at first glance seemed to be out of some strange Tim Burtonesque film noir project, tipped the scales to eight for the home team.

The visitors, Kelly and the Kellygirls, were happy to be outnumbered.

"There are now more people here than there are band members," said flamboyant front man, R. Kelly Clipperton.

"We have all introduced ourselves. And your name is?" he asked, pointing to us.

Not your average singer/songwriter, Clipperton is also a photographer, actor, playwright and designer, and has gained notoriety in various underground scenes around the globe.

To promote the second Kelly and the Kellygirls album We Love You But Not as Much as We Love Ourselves, the band has embarked on its first-ever national tour.

Not discouraged by the low attendance, Clipperton says as long as the word and the music get out there and is appreciated, he's happy.

As the vertical window blinds radiated stripes across the red walls around the Kellygirls, dapper and decked out in their gumshoe-style black suits, Clipperton swayed and purred topless, pierced and tattooed.

His sexy, deep, penetrating voice was reminiscent of the glory days of Berlin-style cabarets as the band swept him from funk to ska, from jazz to pop, all punctuated by vivid horns and a tight rhythm section.

It was a powerful and uplifting union.

So much so that bits of the Bottom's Up ceiling fell down around them during sound check.

Part Iggy Pop, part Freddy Mercury and part Frank-N-Furter from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, Clipperton may have been a bit too much for our small and timid audience.

It could have been that he was prettier than every woman there or that he had a more masculine physique than the men in the room.

It was probably a combination of the two, now that I think about it.