ARI: Single-heartedly
Ari Lennox’s heavily anticipated, “a/s/l” was a subtle reminder that singleness is a slow period of preparing ourselves to love, not hopelessly desiring to be found. Her musical appearance is adorned by both relational mystique and fluctuation. But even amidst clumsiness in romantic pursuits, we love Ari because she is, in essence, all of us. Those unafraid to fail at love, be angry at it, quiet about it, and constantly revisit it.
The love lives of R&B artists are usually our barometer for the water quality of the dating pool. And Ari continually yells back to her fans whether it’s too cold, hot, or suitable for her liking. Sometimes it’s difficult to determine whether she’s on a quest for love, or making her way back to the shores, to herself. But vulnerability has removed the veil of stardom, allowing fans to watch and hear her wrestle against the waves of dating and the inconsistency of men.
Following the release of her debut album, “Shea Butter Baby,” the first full project after signing to Dreamville in 2015, fans have found solace in Lennox’s heart, and her vocals are now more therapeutic rather than consumable art. Through her voluble Instagram live personality and amiable stage presence, we’ve become as emotionally invested in her dating life as we are in her artistry.
Before the release of “a/s/l,” J Cole shared a private text message from a conversation with Ari in which he asked her what this album meant, and included in the caption, “What I hear is the highs, lows, joys and pains of dating life in 2022.” In her response, she confessed to being kicked off dating apps, color blind when acknowledging red flags, and neglecting her needs and self-worth.
Many of us allow ourselves to drown in the dating pool, chasing fish that continually bait us to swim in depths our lungs aren't meant to function. In the opening track, “POF,” she intones over a jazz-infused boom-bap instrumental, “What’s that they’d they say back in the day? It's plenty of fish in the sea. Will somebody explain what's with these lame fish that be swimming to me?”
Love, frankly, has been a blur. Men aren’t free to only desire romantic love. We hide our want for intimacy under the guise of promiscuity and express it through philandering. But to purely seek intimacy is to swim against the tides of masculinity. So we hope flings will somehow become happily ever afters and chase moments that lack the essence of what is eternal. As a result, we give halfway love to wholehearted women. Women like Ari, who’ve loved themselves too much, remind us that you’re never really single because as long as there’s someone staring back at you in the mirror, you have a person to love.
As the project progresses, we watch Ari transition from having drowned in deep waters to mastering the art of floating. She opens “Waste My Time,” which is almost a rejoinder to Brent Faiyaz and Drake’s single, with a tuneful and liberating disclosure, “No d* making me stupid,” and later follows with, in the chorus, “waste my time, get on my line, cause I got the time to waste.” Women are most vulnerable when subject to the emotional and mental gymnastics of men who aren’t inclined to commit, exclusively, to them. Lennox freed herself from this vulnerability by choosing to participate in the love games.
Albums are sometimes like funhouse mirror displays, and each song is a distorted, or occasionally proper, reflection of us and our lives. “a/s/l” is this for many of us. Those stuck in the dating pool, holding an “SOS” sign and waiting for someone special after having tried love and failed, drowned, or were tainted by infectious waters. I, admittedly, am not good at pursuing dating in ways that might pull me to be more sociable than my personality allows. I enjoy unintentional, unforced, natural engagements. Those that make you question “how did we get here?” while still appreciating where your feet have landed. With someone who will hold your hand in deep waters and follow you back to shore. An anchor whose weight doesn’t pull you down, but keep you afloat.
The process of learning to tread these waters and finding something worth bringing home means doing what Ari has. Love yourself enough to know what to hold onto and what to let go of. Enough to care about how well and deeply you breathe on the surface, where you belong. A single heart is one that has mastered reclusion, and waters in which many assumed it might drown became a tub for cleansing it of stains and impurities from the dirtiest of love. The dating pool can feel more like a cesspool. When the pool is uninhabitable, it only gives us time to learn how to swim.
