If there’s one thing to be said about Jheri Curl Music, it’s that–much like its namesake hairstyle–it’s remarkably gender-neutral: Many of the genre’s greatest tracks were sung by women. That’s why every Jheri Curl June, we designate one week as “Ladies’ Week” to celebrate the contributions of woman artists to our most beloved style. And boy, oh boy, are we kicking off the latest installment right with this 1983 number by the Pointer Sisters.
Formed as a duo by June and Bonnie Pointer in 1969, the Pointer Sisters eventually grew to a quartet and scored a number of hits in the 1970s–including their 1974 country crossover “Fairytale,” which earned them the distinction of becoming the first Black musical group to perform at the Grand Ole Opry. By the end of the decade, the group was on the brink of dissolution, with Bonnie departing for a solo career while June opted to take a break from music. Ultimately, however, the other two sisters (Ruth and Anita) coaxed June back to continue as a trio with producer Richard Perry, and they began releasing more pop- and rock-oriented material, beginning with 1978’s Energy.
Today’s track, “Automatic,” comes from 1983’s aptly-named Break Out: the Pointer Sister’s sixth album with Perry, by which time they had shifted from rock to straight-up electro-funk–or, as we know it in these parts, JCM. And let me tell you, it goes–especially in the extended 12″ remix, which gives plenty of room for session musicians John Van Tongeren, Mark Goldenberg, and Dennis Herring to weave their surprisingly funky spell. If this isn’t an all-time Jheri Curl slapper, I don’t know what is–plus, check the video below for some bonus, easy-to-follow choreography!
https://youtu.be/HCWPodbRqHE
We’ll be back tomorrow with more of the finest female-fronted Jheri Curl Music. Meanwhile, Spotify and YouTube playlists are below:
Like yesterday’s spotlight artist the Jonzun Crew, the Egyptian Lover is a pioneer of the Jheri Curl-adjacent hip-hop subgenre electro (or, as they liked to call it on the West Coast, electro-hop). Way back in our first-ever Jheri Curl June, we even called his 1986 club hit “Freak-a-holic” “the ultimate jheri curl track.” And certainly, the Lover himself (a.k.a. Greg Broussard) had one of the most impressive actual J.C.’s of JCJ history, as evidenced by the aforementioned track’s legendary video.
But Broussard was more than just a mixin’, scratchin’, record-lovin’ son of a gun: he was also a sensitive soul, as evidenced by this slow jam from his 1984 solo debut On the Nile. In a 2016 interview with The Guardian, Broussard shared an unlikely source of inspiration for the song: Rat Pack crooner Dean Martin, specifically his 1969 cover of Buck Owens’ “Crying Time.” To be honest, I don’t hear it–partly because Martin sings the song in his indelible, boozy croon, while the Lover doesn’t “sing” so much as pout along with the music. But let’s face it: “Crying Time” also doesn’t feature a shit-hot guitar solo like the one session guitarist Chuck Gentry plays on “I Cry,” so it’s pretty much a wash.
Join us again on Monday for Ladies’ Week, our annual celebration of woman-fronted Jheri Curl Music. In the meantime, you can listen to our picks so far on the playlists below.
The Jonzun Crew’s 1983 debut album Lost in Space contains several electro staples, but more importantly for our purposes, it features the Jheri Jam (TM) “Space Cowboy.” All I have to say about this song is that it fuckin’ rules. Just listen to that silky synth and funky bassline. Marvel at Michael Jonzun’s glorious Jheri curl, shimmering in the light beneath his enormous white ten-gallon hat. Laurence Fishburne would rock a similar style three years later as Cowboy Curtis in Pee Wee’s Playhouse:
The whistling sound from The Good, the Bad & the Ugly that features prominently in “Space Cowboy” would also later be used by Cameo all over their Word Up! album. So, I don’t know what this connection with Western stuff and Jheri Curl Music is, but I’m all for it.
As always, Spotify and YouTube playlists are below. We’ll be back tomorrow to close out the week with another Jheri Jam (TM)… but it probably won’t have as much yodeling as today’s.
Last month, I bought a house in Columbia, Maryland–putting me, for the first time since I moved to the “DMV” region in 2014, closer to Baltimore than Washington, DC. So, now that I’m a safe distance from the erstwhile Chocolate City, I have a confession to make: I don’t particularly care for go-go, DC’s main musical export and a cornerstone of its cultural identity. Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate its rich heritage, its importance to the District’s Black community, and its proven ability to annoy gentrifiers when played at extreme volumes outside the Metro PCS store in Shaw. But, well, I have to agree with my Baltimore-born girlfriend and say that a lot of go-go kind of just sounds to me like somebody banging pots and pans and hoarsely yelling along to the radio. I’m not saying that it’s bad; just that–like Mambo sauce, another favorite of DC locals–it’s an acquired taste, and I never acquired it.
I say all this, partly to get it off my chest after almost seven years of DC-adjacency, but also to acknowledge that Trouble Funk is different–specifically, their 1983 album In Times of Trouble, which blends go-go with nascent hip-hop and, yes, more than a little bit of Jheri-curled funk. Lead singer Tony Fisher may still be yelling hoarsely on a track like “Good Times”–and somebody, somewhere, definitely still sounds like they’re banging on pots and pans–but these go-go stand-bys are seasoned with liberal dashes of razor-sharp funk guitar and slippery, squealing synths courtesy of James Avery and the late Robert “Syke Dyke” Reed. I doubt I’ll ever be a true go-go convert, especially now that I’m inching further and further away from DC; but between this and E.U.‘s “Da Butt,” I’d say there’s hope for me yet.
We’ll be back tomorrow with more classic Jheri Curl cuts. In the meantime, grab some pots and pans and hoarsely yell along with the playlists below:
We’ve already covered Slave not once, but twice in the seven years that we’ve been celebrating Jheri Curl June here at Dystopian Dance Party: First in 2015, with 1980’s “Watching You”; and then in 2017, with 1983’s “Turn You Out (In & Out).” But, Slave is my absolute favorite and they have bangers for days, so I’ll talk about them every year if I feel like it.
Despite being a huge Slave fan, I had never bothered to listen to 1984’s New Plateau until a few years ago when I was watching old clips of The Scene and came across an episode in which there was a dance line to “OOOHH.” Unfortunately, I cannot for the life of me find the clip again (and I highly suspect it either got removed from YouTube or had the music stripped from it due to copyright issues), but it got so hype during the part that goes “I’d love to see you party with me tonight / together we can make our own scene tonight / Ooohh.” Making our own scene! ON THE SCENE! The excitement in the room was palpable and infectious and I immediately found the song and listened to it 15 times in a row. Talk about a groove that you will remember.
We’ll be back tomorrow with another classic JCM cut; in the meantime, check out the increasingly funky playlists below.
We’ve talked a fair amount about Prince, who would have turned 63 today, as one of the architects of the genre we call Jheri Curl Music: Most notably in our very first Jheri Curl June Special back in 2014, but also in various JCJ entries and profiles on his former colleagues (Sheila E, the Time, Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, Vanity, Wendy & Lisa, Jesse Johnson, and André Cymone), rivals (Rick James and, depending on when you ask, at least half of the previous list), and even a few knockoffs (Phil Collins, Ebonee Webb). In fact, we’ve talked so much about Prince on here, you’d be forgiven for wondering if there’s anything else about the Purple One we could possibly have to say (and that’s not even mentioning Zach’s long-running, exhaustively-detailed blog about him).
The thing about Prince, though, is not only is his extant body of work both massive and exceedingly deep, but it’s also constantly growing, as more and more of his music is liberated from his storied Vault. Case in point: his version of “Jungle Love,” a 1984 hit for side project the time after its appearance in the Jheri Curl Cinema landmark Purple Rain, wasn’t even circulating on the robust bootleg market before 2019, when it was released on the posthumous compilation Originals.
“Jungle Love” is actually a Jheri Curl milestone in more ways than one. Aside from being penned by Prince and made famous by the Time, it was also based on an instrumental demo by guitarist Jesse Johnson, whose 1985 “Be Your Man” has the distinction of being the second song ever highlighted for Jheri Curl June. As for the song itself, it’s one of the greasiest of Prince’s early-’80s peak as Jheri Curl progenitor par excellence: an infectious workout driven by a lubricious keyboard line, squelching bass-synth, and rhythm guitar so clean it sounds like it’s still in the shrink wrap. So happy birthday, Prince; here’s to another five years (at least!) of more Jheri Curl gems being unearthed.
We’ll be back tomorrow! Spotify and YouTube playlists below:
Four Tops teamed up with labelmates the Temptations for this toe dip into the pool of Jheri curl juice, 1983’s “Hang.”
With lyrics about working hard to get by in a difficult world, “Hang” belongs alongside Zapp‘s “Playin’ Kinda Ruff” on any Jheri curl playlist. If you too feel like your life is an endless cycle of working and paying bills as your social life, youth, hopes and dreams slip through your fingers and time continues its relentless march, well, this is the song for you. “Hang” doesn’t really provide any solutions for life’s difficulties, except not to give up and give it all you’ve got. Otherwise, the message is a bit buried in the fun-time horns, synth and ambient party noises. But, hey, between a global pandemic and just plain old exhaustion, this might be the closest thing to fun that you’ve had in over a year!
We’re taking a quick break for the weekend, but we’ll be back on Monday with more Jheri curl goodness! Playlists, as always, are below.
In the first six years of Jheri Curl June, we’ve had occasion to cover two of what I like to call the “Three Stars” of Jheri Curl Music: Midnight Star and Starpoint. So, now that we’re on year seven, I think it’s past time that we gave Star #3, a.k.a. Atlantic Starr, their due.
I’ll admit, there’s a reason why it took us so long. Atlantic Starr is my least favorite of the “Three Stars” by some margin; their music, particularly during the peak of their late-’80s crossover success, tended to be softer and more ballad-heavy, verging on adult-contemporary, compared to their similarly-named peers. And yet, as any true Jheri curl connoisseur knows, there’s a time and a place for soft (and wet!). And “Love Me Down” (not to be confused with Ready for the World‘s previously-featured “Love You Down“), from the group’s 1982 album Brilliance, is the perfect companion for those moments when you just want to let your hair down–as much as a Jheri curl will allow, anyway–and unwind. The groove is smooth but still funky, with Sharon Bryant’s sultry vocals mellowing Wayne Lewis’ bass-synth and David Lewis’ rhythm guitar like ice in a glass of cognac. So, Atlantic Starr, welcome to the party; we’re sorry it took us so long to let you in, but it’s a whole lot more chill now that you’re here.
We’ll be back tomorrow–in the meantime, as always, check out the Spotify and YouTube playlists below!
This track by Mystic Merlin is a great early Jheri Curl song: funky but still mellow, with a real horn section and a clear disco bent with its Nile Rodgers-esque guitar riff. Mystic Merlin was initially a novelty band who incorporated magician acts in their live shows. Their 1982 album Full Moon continues with the mystical, magical motif. Many of the track titles include some reference to magic, and the album cover (see above) is an image of the band dressed in harem pants and turbans and posed with a scimitar, an hour glass, and a genie lamp, all in front of what is ironically a waning gibbous moon.
The final track on the album, “Mindreader,” opens with the verse: “I know what you’re thinking / by the look in your eyes / I’m a magician / and a master of disguise / but I can’t disguise this feeling / and it’s very plain to see / you can tell I’m digging you girl…” That’s right folks, magicians need love too.
Full Moon would be Mystic Merlin’s last album with singer Freddie Jackson, who went on to have a successful career as a solo artist.
We’ll be back tomorrow with more magical Jheri Curl picks. Playlists below:
So, let’s begin with the elephant in the room. As you might recall, last year the month of June began mere days after the police murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis, which made the idea of a semi-irreverent celebration of dated Black music and hairstyles by two privileged White people feel… tone-deaf, to say the least. It was also, of course, less than three months into a once-in-a-lifetime (knock on wood) global pandemic… long story short, we just weren’t in a party mood. But now it’s a year later; and, while the copsstillhaven’tstopped killing Black people–nor, despite what our respective homestates‘ governors apparently think, is the pandemic over–I think we could all use the mood lift that only the smoothest, silkiest ’80s R&B can provide.
For those of you who are new here (or just need a refresher), “Jheri Curl Music” is our name for a specific brand of glossy, heavily synthesized post-disco R&B music from the early-to-mid ’80s–it’s kind of like our yacht rock, except not even 1% as successful or widely recognized. For details, see our original introduction post from 2014, our 2016 video, or our 2018 podcast. We dedicate each June to celebrating this unsung art form: mostly because “Jheri Curl” and “June” are nicely alliterative, but also because early summer is the perfect time to roll down your windows, let the wind blow through your hair (or, if you’re rocking a J.C. yourself, let it blow kind of against and around your hair), and blast some vintage J.C.M.
This year’s Jheri Curl June is a back-to-basics move for us. There will be no long-form artist/producer retrospectives (like we did for Prince, Michael Jackson, Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, L.A. Reid, Jesse Johnson, and André Cymone), no Jheri Curl Cinema features (like we did for Purple Rain, The Last Dragon, Moonwalker, and Coming to America), and no special podcast episodes; just a J.C.M. song every weekday for the whole month, with Spotify and YouTube playlists for your listening pleasure. Still, that doesn’t mean we can’t spend our seventh year stretching the boundaries of what belongs under the J.C.M.-brella. That’s why this year, I’m kicking things off with a possibly controversial choice: Eddy Grant’s 1982 reggae-funk hit “Electric Avenue.”
On the surface, reggae and Jheri Curl Music don’t appear to have much in common, aside from their general origins in the African musical diaspora. Hell, just look at each respective genre’s trademark hairstyle: Jheri curls, as has been well established, are glossy and determinedly non-kinky; meanwhile, Rastafari locs (a.k.a. “dreadlocks”) embrace the organic textures of African hair types. Jheri curls have a well-earned reputation for being synthetic and potentially damaging to Black people’s hair follicles (not to mention their furniture), while locs are (rightfully) celebrated as a “natural” hairstyle and an expression of pan-African pride.
And yet, “Electric Avenue” is proof that even styles as diametrically opposed as these can exist in harmony. Oh, sure, Eddy Grant probably wouldn’t have been caught dead with activator in his hair; but who needs an actual Jheri curl when your keyboards are as moist and juicy as the ones on “Electric Avenue”? Meanwhile, Grant’s lyrics–a righteously angry ode to the 1981 uprisings against racist policing and systemic poverty in Brixton, South London–show that Jheri Curl Music, like reggae, can have a political point of view. As far as this writer is concerned, “Electric Avenue” belongs right next to Paul Laurence‘s “Racism!!!” on any self-respecting J.C.M. protest mix.
Speaking of mixes, below you’ll find Spotify and YouTube playlists for this month’s festivities, which we’ll update with every new track. Unfortunately, the Spotify list is currently empty, as “Electric Avenue” does not appear to be available on the service. We can’t blame Eddy Grant, if this was his choice: a banger like this is worth a lot more than the fraction of a cent a Spotify stream earns. But I think we can all agree that our playlists are a little bit weaker for its absence. See you tomorrow!
