OPINION: The Queen of Hip-Hop Soul’s classic sophomore album is now 30 and AARP doesn’t have to call me anymore; I’ll call them.
Editor’s note: The following article is an op-ed, and the views expressed are the author’s own. Read more opinions on theGrio.
I can actually remember November of 1994. I was a sophomore in high school and still very awkward and goofy. I had yet to experience what anybody would call a growth spurt, evidenced by the fact that my little sister (three years my junior) was actually taller than me. By this point in life, I actually thought I was destined to make sure I had a great personality to ensure that I might have a romantic future. There was one young freshwoman who I was informed had a crush on me, but at age 15 and under-sized, I didn’t really believe much in my ability to have a dating life. In 1994, I essentially viewed myself as Steve Urkel without an unattainable next-door neighbor.
What I did have in 1994 was my true love: music. I was constantly buying cassettes and compact discs; there was always music around me. Being up on the newest and latest music of any and everybody was my hobby. Mary J. Blige was one of those artists I was a huge fan of. I mean, everybody was, really. Her album “ What’s the 411?” dropped in July of 1992, so when school started up that August, it was one of those albums that everybody was talking about. “Real Love” and its ensuing hip-hop remix were the hottest songs smoking and you could start an impromptu jam session in my middle school lunchroom by simply saying “real love” out loud.
To say that the anticipation for Mary’s sophomore album was intense would be the understatement of the year. I still remember being entranced by the video for the first single, “Be Happy” on MTV and BET’s “Video Soul.” I mostly remember it because I was so concerned for Mary’s life standing up on those rocks. Obviously, she lived through the video shoot but I had so much anxiety for her safety. I couldn’t envision a life without Mary in it. I bought the single and essentially burned a hole through it.
Then came the monster single, “I’m Goin’ Down.” The remake of the Rose Royce single from the movie “Car Wash” (titled “I’m Going Down”) had all of the Black girls in my high school ready to break up with their boyfriends just so they, too, could sing about a lost love — teenage hormones create odd problems. Let me say for the record, Mary’s version of this song is absolutely amazing. Her performance on the record is the stuff of legend; you could hear the lived experience all up and through her vocals.
If Mary had stopped making music at this point, she’d already be a legend, I truly believe this. But that entire album is a heater from start to finish. Even today, I listen to “My Life” when my listening search comes up empty; “My Life” is basically comfort food at this point in my life. From “You Bring Me Joy” to the title track to the closing minute of “I Never Wanna Live Without You,” this album is a time portal to a version of myself that was curious about what life had to offer. I was gifted the vocal stylings of Mary J. Blige to serve as a soundtrack to that journey.
It is also insane to think about it this way: “My Life” came out during a time in my life when I was already driving. Sure, I was 15, but my father also let me drive myself and my siblings and friends around wherever we needed to go because he got tired of running those errands. We just agreed that if I got pulled over, he had no knowledge of me taking the car. Coincidentally, despite having the free use of a car for a solid year before I could even qualify for my license, I failed my driving test the first time I took it on my 16th birthday. You have never seen a father more confused and disappointed in a son than my father was on that day. The look on my father’s face is what we call a “core memory” nowadays.
If you’re reading this because you saw the words Mary J. Blige and “My Life,” then you, like me, are in the phase of life where you get constant reminders that not only are you getting older, but you might actually be old. Maybe not old for the earth, but too old to be in the club, ya know?
Thankfully, though, my journey to this point in life includes some of the greatest works of musical art in existence, like Mary J. Blige’s 1994 album, “My Life.” This album — like the career of its central voice, Mary J. Blige — brings me joy.
Panama Jackson is a columnist at theGrio and host of the award-winning podcast, “Dear Culture” on theGrio Black Podcast Network. He writes very Black things, drinks very brown liquors, and is pretty fly for a light guy. His biggest accomplishment to date coincides with his Blackest accomplishment to date in that he received a phone call from Oprah Winfrey after she read one of his pieces (biggest) but he didn’t answer the phone because the caller ID said “Unknown” (Blackest).
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