Once upon a time, Hip-Hop was a many layered thing. It had its gangstas and its Ruff Ryders, conscious Afrikans and poets, choppers and crooners, its Bad Boys and its empowered women. From sampled R&B beats to jazz quartets, the wide world and deep history of Black music could be heard behind nearly every verse. There seemed to be room for every style and every story, and love stories were no exception. But eras pass, and for a time it seemed like R&B powered reflections on the soft sides and hard truths of relationships were part of the genre’s past. Then came Ace Clark.