blog post Soul essentials: Mary J. Blige - My Life

“Bad boys ain’t no good/Good boys ain’t no fun/Lord knows that I should/Run off with the right one.”
“Mr. Wrong,” by Mary J. Blige, from the album My Life II: The Journey Continues (2011)   

Taken from her latest album My Life II: The Journey Continues, this opening lyric from Mary J. Blige’s latest single “Mr. Wrong,” deals with the Yonkers, N.Y.-bred singer trying to reconcile the fact she is often attracted to relationships that are often diametrically opposed to what is best for her emotional well-being. The theme of searching for happiness through love has been a long-running and defining trait of Blige’s career. While it has been on many of her 10 studio albums, nowhere was the theme more established than in her sophomore effort, 1994’s My Life. It’s often been Blige’s gift and her curse. Fans and critics haven’t always responded well to Blige’s intermittent declarations of resolving this internal struggle, so it’s no wonder that, despite the fact she’s matured, mellowed and evolved over her 20-year career, that she often revisits those same themes, or in the case of My Life II, the title of her seminal statement, 18 years after its release.

Blige’s 1992 debut, What’s the 411? was commandeered by burgeoning mogul Sean “Puffy” Combs at the height of his Uptown Records’ influence. While it boasted undeniable club bangers such as “Real Love” and “Reminisce,” its decidedly unsubtle declaration of “hip-hop soul” as a genre (a studio manifestation of Ron G’s popular mix tapes that blended hip-hop and R&B at the time) made it too earnest and too calculated to truly represent Blige as an artist. Indeed, What’s the 411?’s cover photo features Blige’s eyes mysteriously rendered invisible by the shadow of a hat. A shiny poor boy hat is present on My Life’s cover, but the increased access this time around is intimated by the fact the shot is closer, and her eyes are guardedly visible under the cap’s shadow (perhaps to shield the scar under her left eye?).

My Life is ostensibly a record detailing the roller-coaster relationship Blige had with K-Ci Hailey, the mercurial lead singer of 90s R&B mavericks, Jodeci (who were also moulded by Combs at Uptown in their early days). Blige’s ascent to success had coincided with this reportedly unhealthy relationship (which was also rumoured to be abusive), and her reported inability to deal with the increased attention manifested itself in alcoholism and the abuse of various substances, including cocaine. Talking to Vibe magazine in 1994 at the time of My Life’s release, Blige said: “I definitely came a long way from where I was before, because I was a savage. And when I say I was a savage, trust me.”

Yet an order was wrought from this apparent personal chaos. The overbearing presence of Combs, so noticeable on her debut, is scaled back on My Life and the “hip-hop soul” sound blossoms organically on the record. On the opener, “Mary Jane (All Night Long),” samples from Teddy Pendergrass’ “Close the Door” and the Mary Jane Girls’ “All Night Long” are seamlessly stitched together under the auspices of My Life’s primary producer Chucky Thompson (and Combs). It hints at the subtle interpolations of R&B staples that persist throughout My Life’s duration.

It is testament to Blige’s artistry that despite the abundance of familiar samples, her presence on My Life is unassailable. Her voice simultaneously conveys grit and vulnerable self-doubt, as Blige’s struggle for self-worth and yearning to be acknowledged in a relationship is laid bare. The emotions come to a head on the Roy Ayers-fuelled title track as Blige largely divests herself of technical precision and plunges her voice into a raw, raspy state ensuring that every syllable of the deceptively simple refrain “If you looked into my life/And see what I’ve seen,” speaks to an unresolved and impassioned complexity.

As the album enters its second half, the slower tempos find Blige in an increasingly meditative mood as the reluctant realization that her relationship is doomed gradually dawns upon her as rejection and infidelity rear their heads. So when “Be Happy,” the album’s first single, arrives to end the album, it’s a bittersweet coda to a scarring internal battle that is seemingly so exhausting, the first verse is merely comprised of two telling lines: “How can I love somebody else?/If I can’t love myself to know it’s time to let go.” This moment of independence is an important conclusion on an album where Blige’s happiness is so reliant on an imperfect relationship. Moments after singing “I just wanna be so, so, happy/But the answer lies in me,” she assertively adds “Now let it breathe” in a conversational tone. While she could be urging us to revel in the luxurious groove of Curtis Mayfield’s “You’re So Good to Me,” on which “Be Happy” effortlessly rides, it’s also the sound of hard-fought emotional catharsis and a self-defining moment of clarity.