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No More Chasing: Jason Waterfalls Is Ready To Talk
A city-scene, cars whizzing by, the faint sound of some never-ending construction job lingering just beyond a cacophony of increasingly complex coffee orders. Over-caffeinated and on a deadline, I’m both anxious and excited to talk to the man who now simply goes by Jay. After months of back and fourths, stops and starts, we’ve at last settled on a time and date. A little past 11 a.m., he arrives, donning a smart, but not pretentious argyle sweater and a pair of rain boots that seem to exist at the intersection of function and fashion. Pulling up a chair, he apologizes for being a minute late. “Parking was a bear,” he says, smiling. It’s a crisp fall morning and Jay — don’t call him Jason — Waterfalls is ready to talk.
“I had a pretty normal childhood. White picket fence, yearly trip to Florida, shooting hoops with my dad out by garage, all that stuff,” Jason says, sipping at his no frills black cup of coffee. He’s confident, but not cocky. Cool, but not calculated. Genuine, but not yet baring it all. He treats our server well, asking about her family and inquiring about menu recommendations. And yet, just beyond those kind eyes, exists a modicum of sorrow. “I still think back on that date often,’’ Jason says, scanning the room. That date in question is of course, May 29th, 1995; the day in which Atlanta-based hip-hop group TLC released their album…
