A Month of 'When I Get Home'

Nearly five months after it was mentioned in the New York Times that it was the eve of Solange’s new album, the singer, songwriter and visual artist kicked off Women’s History Month (and rescued a doomed and undeserving Black History Month) with her surprise album, which was teased by stan-worthy black southern aesthetics on the Solange’s Black Planet account.  Similar to the images and videos posted prior to its release, “When I Get Home”, the heavily anticipated follow-up to 2016’s “A Seat at the Table”, evokes a mix of luring feelings that ultimately invites listeners to explore the meaning of home.

For Solange, home is unapologetically Houston’s Third Ward, which is expressed throughout the album. It’s the home of actresses and sisters Debbie Allen and Phylicia Rashad and jazz pianist Jason Moran. It’s the origin of Beyoncé. More importantly, though, it’s the place through which Solange uses as a lens for discovering the deeper meaning of her roots and challenges listeners to discover their own.

“Solange had so much to say on ‘A Seat at the Table’, but it’s clear that she’s had so much to feel with ‘When I Get Home’, and that ultimately becomes a guide for listeners like myself to follow.”

“When I Get Home” intentionally sounds like either one 39-minute song or a collection of 19 interludes, and while that’s often cited as a main issue for the album’s listening ability, it’s mainly Solange’s way of wanting to make listeners experience the many feelings expressed throughout the album. The album opens up with the melodically repetitive “Things I Imagined” that poses as a gateway to feelings of joy and optimism that Solange embraces when she gets home, ultimately setting the tone for the album. The track is juxtaposed by the third track “Down with the Clique”, on which Solange asks listeners who’ve moved away from home if they’ve abandoned their roots and forgotten about the very “things they’ve imagined” in their hometown. “Down With Clique”, as highlighted by the repetitive line “are you really down?”, evokes a pensive mood as it forces listeners to reflect on how the might have neglected their roots. With “Dreams”, Solange echoes messages of patience and perseverance to assure listeners that dreams take time.

Continuing the themes of unapologetic blackness that was expressed on nearly every song from “A Seat at the Table”, “Almeda”, which features Playboi Carti, is an ode to the many aspects of black culture: black skin, black braids, black faith, black molasses. All of which can’t be washed away, as the song’s lyrics enforces, giving listeners a reminder of Solange’s pro-blackness. On “I’m a Witness”, the final track on the album, Solange concludes with a prayer-like message to her body and giving it the freedom to do whatever it wants. The freedom message throughout the song likely alludes to Solange finding the courage to use her body and voice in ways that she necessarily couldn’t while being away from home, which echoes the album’s central exploration of home and how it impacts self discovery.  Thus, the album sends a subliminal message of the positive relationship between the road home (in both its literal and physical sense) and the road to discovering yourself. “When I Get Home” makes it clear that the latter can’t thoroughly happen without the former.

On its surface, “When I Get Home” is a collection of songs that aren’t marketable from a radio standpoint. It’s doubtful that any single from the album would be frequently played on the radio, but there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s intentional because, at its core, “When I Get Home” is a cosmic avant-garde jazz experience filled with black southern themes that instantly make listeners reflect on their personal journeys. The album has embodied that experience for me. I’ve listened to it for meditation and for finding solace in a society that often isn’t very welcoming of women and our bodies. I listened to it when Kodak Black sexually harassed Young M.A. I listened to it when hoteps online were making false equivalencies between Cardi B and R.Kelly/Bill Cosby. Often, the album has been my safe haven for emotions when words weren’t utterable, which, I think, aligns with the Solange’s intention of making listeners feel the album instead of simply listening to it. Solange had so much to say on “A Seat at the Table”, but it’s clear that she’s had so much to feel with “When I Get Home”, and that ultimately becomes a guide for listeners like myself to follow.

Revisiting "Who Is Jill Scott...", the Album That Introduced Me to Sex

I was 13 years old, and I was riding in the front seat of my auntie’s car when Jill Scott’s “Golden” came on the radio. My auntie immediately blasted the song to the car’s maximum volume and accompanied it with a “Jill Scott is the truth” comment. I wasn’t sure if that was directed toward me or just a general statement, but it urged me to discover the artistry of Jill Scott. Before that, I had only vaguely knew about her music.  Regardless of whether my aunt’s statement was directed toward me, I knew that it was a hint that Jill Scott was an artist that I should be listening to because it had  my auntie’s famous seal of approval. She said something similar when she blasted “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill” while I was riding in the car with her the year before, which prompted me to download the album on my MP3 player. So I knew that I needed to do the same thing with “Who Is Jill Scott? Words and Sounds Vol. 1”, Jill Scott’s debut album that really introduced me to sex.

Hi. I sing/act out all kinds of stories. You should cum to my shows. After a Jill Scott show, most people get splendidly laid by whoever they came with😁👍🏽🎶🤪🎉 #iftheydontFitup #stopfrontinusuckdicktoo
They also usually go on 2happier, more productive, focused, wealthy lives.

— ⭐Jill Scott⭐ (@missjillscott) November 13, 2018

Now, obviously, I had some clue of what sex was prior to listening to Jill Scott’s album. I had watched the sex scene in “Love & Basketball” plenty of times.  But listening to Jill Scott was the first time I heard an artist speak about sex beyond just the physical act. Scott introduced me to the joy, pain, insecurity, the indescribable bliss and other emotions that are attached to sex.

Although it took me some time to really understand the nuances of what the hell Jill Scott was talking about, my naive 13-year-old ears at least knew that it had something to do with sex because she mentions it, makes culinary allusions to it and worships it all throughout  the album. So when I recently saw a video of Ms. Jilly from Philly posing like she was giving felatio to a mic during one of her concerts and the subsequent sex shaming from people on the Internet, I was confused because this—— the unapologetically sex-positive individual—— is the Jill Scott I was introduced to when I was 13.

Bruh why is Jill Scot sucking air dick pic.twitter.com/nNxlDKyKUY

— Tony. (@SoLyrical) November 13, 2018

At least that’s who listeners were introduced on “Exclusively”, the album’s second track. The record is a spoken word piece on which Scott details her happiness from a post-coital experience (“This morning, my man exclusively introduced me/ to some extra good lovin’/he was lickin’ and suckin’ on everything/ just the way he should). Scott’s bliss during the morning after is at such an all-time high that she goes to store to pick up food for her and her man in hopes of getting some more sex when she returns. However, during her time in the store, she ponders the all but too familiar thought of how exclusive her experience with her man is when she sees a pretty woman at the counter (“The new girl at the counter was cute, not as fine as me/ was this some kind of women’s intuition, some kind of insecurity?”). But at the end, as the woman at the counter recognizes the smell of Jill Scott’s lover, she realizes that her extra lovin’ in the morning is as exclusive as she thought.

With “The Way”, Scott shows listeners how badly she wants sex from her man. It’s the morning after having some good sex again, and Scott trades in a night with a girls for a another night of sex from her man (“Woke up this morning with a smile on my face/ jumped out of bed, took a shower, dressed, cleaned up my place/ made some breakfast, toast, 2 scrambled eggs, grits”). But it’s on the next track “Honey Molasses” that Scott poetically describes her sexual experience with her man. As she contemplates calling him after their night of passion, she describes her magical, time-travelling sexual experience (You were in my home my body/my dome/ in a circle of passion we/ Paris Italy/Japan Africa Rome/ We made music/We trombone). When she finally musters up the courage to call him, she decides to leave a heartwarming voice message, but to her surprise, he answers.

In between those previously mentioned songs about sex, Scott talks about love, being heartbroken and growing up as a black girl from Philadelphia, which creates the aesthetic of “Who Is Jill Scott…”. She unapologetically sings and rhymes about her desires and the bliss she feels from pleasure in a soothing and matter-of-fact way that makes the coming-of-age album even more listenable. Thus, sex, along with the appeal and wanting of it, is a part of who Jill Scott is, She didn’t sugarcoat that in any way on her debut album, and she continued that trend throughout the rest of her career. So the next time people become perplexed about her sexual innuendos during concert, “Who Is Jill Scott? Words and Vol. 1” is always available on Spotify and Apple Music.