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I grew up in Newark, New Jersey, home of Jersey Club music. Nothing can compare to the bass of the song matching your heartbeat. Keeping up with the intensity of the speed was the only thing you could focus on. We didn’t have to worry about prim or polite when we dance, either. And it didn’t matter that the usual drug-dealers were outside selling weed outside. And it especially didn’t matter that at least five people got shot and killed last night.
I grew up in Newark, New Jersey, where it didn’t matter that we were poor and haven’t eaten in two whole days. It didn’t matter that there was no legal supervision, yet there was illegal drinking. It didn’t matter that a fight was about the break out in the corner.
I grew up in Newark, New Jersey, where all that mattered was the diligent way the DJ played our favorite songs and never exhausted. All that mattered was the way everybody was in everyone’s space so comfortably. All that mattered was the beating of our heartbeats, racing against the back of some unknown person. All that really mattered was us, because we were the only ones on the planet, right? Right? All that ever was, was here with us. We were condensed into the one single throb that was the bass.
I grew up in Newark, New Jersey, home of Jersey Club Music.