First of all, I never liked Jagged Edge.
I thought they were a poor man’s Jodeci retread.
Also, I didn’t think that Jagged Edge leading singer Kyle Norman had the vocal tools of a Jojo or a K-Ci so what you were looking at basically was a 90s Bulls without Jordan or Pippen.
And, lemme tell you, when I first heard their song, “Let’s Get Married” I thought, oh my God!
I mean, not only was it dreary, morose and maudlin, but I couldn’t imagine that any woman worth a wet pussy could honestly believe that this song represented a genuine version of love.
We ain’t getting no younger we might as well do it
I just wanna get married
Where on earth was the passion?
And I mean the specific, particular passion?
Both of Jagged Edge’s points sound like concessions.
“Bitch, I guess, you know, next year I’ma be 100; and I’ve been rocking with you for about 85-90 years: shit, before I croak, we might as well, you know, fuck it!”
“Niggas is married and, you know, I’m tired of niggas having something on me or being one up, you know what I’m sayin’?”
Contrast that with how Stevie Wonder kicks off “All I do”.
You’ve made my soul a burning fire/
you’re getting to be my one desire…
See the difference?
First of all, it’s uptempo, how we can or should imagine that love either does or should make us feel.
Also, the feelings expressed are love.
That anxiety, desperation and most importantly, passion.
That dull, reconciled, old sofa, old shoe feeling that’s been allowed to pass as “love” is really just waiting to die and hoping that the Reaper will come for you in your sleep.
Meanwhile there’s music out there, plenty of it too, that represents how what can only be considered genuine love would inspire and propel you towards, if necessary, a better you or at least one that can rise to the measurements of what that love demands.
Who can forget Aaliyah’s “One in a Million”?
Now imagine the topic of “marriage” when a Stevie or Aayliah love is in play.
“Marriage? What? Yeah! Immediately! Shit bitch; I thought you was gonna say ‘Let’s climb Mount Everest’ or some shit, which we can do right after we get married! But whatever we do, let’s do it now, now, now, now, now, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, YEAH!”
So, all this said, imagine my disappointment upon learning that so many “hood” weddings actually featured that lame Jagged Edge song.
I mean, I could already imagine the dudes that pulled this crappy stunt; beer bellies, Cheetos stains on their tuxes and whatnot, tired of her friends in the business and asking questions about the when they’re gonna “do it” or whatever but I could never imagine the woman that would stand for having her own hand sung about as it were some sort of booby prize.
It’s telling that, as in the case of that punk-ass clown Steve Stephens who couldn’t even go after, say, George Zimmerman to make his murderous point, that even Black pathology has allowed itself to be stilted, but nobody should be allowed to put a cap on our love.
It’s truly sad that white teens who’ve never even fucked can dream of international affairs where love isn’t even promised, just hinted at
while niggas have to find ourselves lazily saying to our ladies, “Shit, basketball season’s over, football season ain’t start yet, whatchu feel like doin this Sunday?”