Another Sad Love Song [FEATURE]

We’ve all been there. It’s 2:15AM and you’re damn near in tears. You boldly begin the first sentence of an emotional text, only to punk-out and erase it the very next moment (boy if our phones could talk…the things they would say). The scene gets more depressing though. Draped in your favorite sleepwear, there you are, slouched deep down in the couch appropriately accompanied by your vice of choice– but wait it gets better. Wallowing just isn’t wallowing without an accompanying soundtrack; for me, the song sticks out more than Serena Williams hindparts at an Chinese swim suit contest:

(Sung Slowly )

Don’t you remember, you told me you love me, babyyyy/
You said you’d be coming back this way again, babyyyy/
Baby, baby, baby, baby; awwwwww baby/
I love you, yeah I really do.

Once shaken, stirred, and poured, your wallow berry cocktail is now complete.

But wait, not so fast. What is it about Teddy P that taps into our emotions so strongly? What is it about Marvin Gaye verses that leaves us in a place of vulnerability and regret? What is it? Surely it’s not the artist, so if not them, then what? Recently, while wallowing in my sorrows one night, I decided to do something I’d never done before– I listened. As the radio blasted love song after love song, I guarded my emotions and I objectively listened. Needless to say my discovery was rather amazing–Love songs lie.

Lie, lie lie, and lie some more.

I mean Jesus himself may have a hard time living up to the expectations set forth in these ballads. Case in point, one of my favorite groups of all-time, Tony! Toni! Tone!. On their classic record “Whatever You Want” Rapheal Saadiq famously sung the words:

Now maybe I should drive right over/
Show you my new ride/
Or take you shopping out on the town/
And then make you feel your best/
I’ll go out of my way to make sure you have everything/

Uhhh say what? I guess metro riders can’t sing along with this huh Raphael? Two things are egregiously obvious about this verse. One, homie didn’t graduate into a recession like many of us. And two, he must’ve not been “out on the town” lately to check out some of these prices, because if he did he’d know better than to publicly profess such nonsense.

Because of songs like this, I can currently be found camped outside Babyface’s house as part of the “occupy love song” movement, in which I am the 99% fighting against the vicious lies of the 1%. After listening closely, I quickly found a fundamental difference between myself and many of these lying crooners. You see, I’m young, but I’m from the old school, and a wise man once told me: “Austin don’t ever give a woman a chance to tell you what you didn’t do, always under-promise and over-deliver”.

I learned at a young age that women have photographic memories. While men have a difficult time remembering their facebook passwords, women have machete like minds. Every time a man makes a declarative statement women take a mental picture of it, time-date stamp it, and forever etch it in stone.

Which brings me back to these lying R&B cats. Your girlfriend’s favorite R&B singer, Trey “lie-in-his” Songz owes every man in the world an apology. Trey didn’t say he practiced sex, he didn’t say he enjoyed sex, this bama said he “invented” sex. So you mean to tell me every time I’m about to get it poppin I’m expected to “invent” something new? who do I look like, Thomas Edison? I mean what happened to the days of Too Short’s “Freaky Tales” or Nas’s “Oochie Wally”? (smiling)

I’m tired of having to live up to this foolishness all because these jheri-curl-having dudes want to lie on wax.

Expectation opens the door to disappointment, and I don’t need any song pumping up what may or may not go down. If I had a sex song it would be short and sweet, something like this (clears throat) :

We’re about to get it in/
5,6, or maybe 7 mins/
I know all the stuff I told you I was gonna do/
Let me finish this sandwich, and I’ll be ready for round two/

Got a ring to it don’t it.

#TheEnd