Mary J. Blige Was Worried About the Sophomore Jinx. Then She Put Out ‘My Life’

Some artists struggle to determine which of their releases is the most vital — it’s like asking a parent to pick a favorite child.

Not only did the young beat-maker serve as a crucial behind-the-scenes presence during the making of My Life, blending rich Seventies soul with radio-ready hip-hop, Thompson also created “Big Poppa” and “Me & My Bitch” for a fresh-faced New York rapper by the name of the Notorious B.I.G.

At that time, I was doing a lot of merging of hip-hop with live instruments, because I played eight different instruments.

The songs I was sending him to give him an idea of me as a producer, he ended up using them for the album.

One song in particular got everything started: “Be With You.” I wasn’t even supposed to send that song — it was actually for a group in DC.

I know her energy at that time was everybody was coming at her — she’s this new young hip-hop phenomenon, and everyone wanted a piece of her.

I used to look at her like a sister: Where are these guys, let’s go whoop their ass! She started drying her tears on these songs.

And back then in New York, at the parties, they’d be playing a lot of the original soul records.

The mission for me was to change a lot of the negative press that was happening with her because she was this new thing that people didn’t understand.

People that don’t necessarily live that life or understand, the first thing they’re gonna do is say something bad about it.

You can feel the energy when she walks in the room: Something’s bothering her, there’s something she’s trying to deal with.

Those two energies together are the reason you can play a song like “Beat It,” a record that came out in the 1980s, to kids today, and they’ll jump around like that shit is brand new.

You remember those hearing tests we used to take back in high school? That first tone, everybody can hear that shit.

He decided, “I’ll put a percussion break in between songs.” So we would finish a song, then I’d do a percussion break, and I’d do a call and response — ask the crowd, “y’all tired yet?” That’s part of what started Go-go.

I didn’t want to do the Ayers record with the congas and all that, but with that musicianship, that pocket from Go-go.

Then the last fucking single, which took them to eleven million in sales, was “Waterfalls,” the coolest shit you could think of.

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