Oh, hey, remember when we said we would watch the 1987 Jon Mikl Thor sorta-vehicle Zombie Nightmareand discuss it in time for Halloween? Well, here it is, just in time for…Thanksgiving. Yeah, we kinda screwed the pooch on that one, but bear with us, because we also have a lot to share about Zach’s 15 minutes of infamy with Team Breezy, the bizarre public meltdown of actor/model/singer/relationship guru/visual artiste Tyrese Gibson, and the forthcoming debut of Dystopian Dance Party in physical form! Also, we talk about our embarrassing physical and mental health ailments.
Look, people, when we said we were going to talk about whatever we want on the podcast from here on out, we meant what the fuck we said. So this episode, along with the usual discussion about art, old music, and video games, we also swap stories about our past and present butt problems. If you can make it through that, though, we go on to discuss the growing trend of famous sexual predators being aired out, the Halloween-friendly films of Nicolas Cage, and…oh, shit, we also go into way too much detail about that old urban legend with Rod Stewart sucking off a bunch of sailors. Look, this is obviously a ploy for attention, so just give us what we want and listen, okay?
The Dystopian Dance Party podcast is back, and we’re out for blood. This episode, we catch up on what’s been going on during our two-month hiatus and talk about Gene Simmons (naturally), the 20th anniversary of Final Fantasy VII, and the 70th anniversary of Marc Bolan. Please look out for more in the next couple of months–we have a lot of exciting stuff planned for the future!
The last week of Jheri Curl June is always a story of decline, and this year’s is no exception: like yesterday’s song by After 7, today’s closing track is more New Jack Swing with a residual curl than it is JCM proper. Hell, El DeBarge even appeared on the cover of its parent album, Gemini, with a hairstyle more appropriate for the dawn of the 1990s–and when El DeBarge loses his jheri curl, you know it’s the end of an era.
After 7 were formed in 1988, just in time to partake in Jheri Curl Music’s swan song before the genre gave way to the emerging New Jack Swing style. The group consisted of Kevon and Melvin Edmonds–brothers of singer, songwriter, and Jheri Curl June inducteeBabyface–as well as Keith Mitchell, who was (incorrectly) rumored to be the cousin of music mogul (and another JCJ featured artist) L.A. Reid. Both Babyface and Reid wrote and produced much of After 7’s 1989 debut album, including their hit single and late Jheri Curl jam, “In the Heat of the Moment.”
The first time I encountered a record by R.J.’s Latest Arrival, it was in a bargain bin at 2nd & Charles in Woodbridge, Virginia. The moment I saw their 1986 album Hold On, with its mid-’80s barbershop’s assortment of jheri curls on the back cover, I knew I had to have it (it helped that it cost less than three dollars).
The fact that Sananda Maitreya, the artist formerly known as Terence Trent D’Arby, was not considered for Jheri Curl June until our fourth year is surprising. Of course, his music isn’t Jheri Curl proper–few artists were, by the end of the ’80s–but the influence of Michael Jackson and Prince is particularly obvious.
Introducing the Hardline According to Terence Trent D’Arby is a debut album with a title as cumbersome as you would expect from the man who once claimed that it’s the most important album since Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band. I will neither support nor dispute that claim, but I will say that for a late ’80s R&B album, Hardline has certainly held up–and while we’re making comparisons, I’d much rather fuck with D’Arby’s album in the background rather than “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!” I doubt even the most devoted Beatles stans can argue with that.
Anyway, Hardline also garnered D’Arby’s several hit singles, including “Wishing Well” and “Sign Your Name.” But it was the lesser known track “Let’s Go Forward” in which D’Arby was at his most Jheri Curl. The sad robot-like atmosphere of the song sounds like a more mature version of Jesse Johnson’s “I Want My Girl.”
We’re nearing the end of Jheri Curl June, but there are still a few posts left; meanwhile, check out the playlists below!
This month is of course not only the holiest month on the Dystopian Dance Party calendar, but also Pride Month for the LGBT community, commemorating the Stonewall uprisings of June 1969. So I thought today was as good a time as any to talk about one of our favorite LGBT Jheri Curl artists (LGBTJC?), Jermaine Stewart.
Stewart is best known for his 1986 hit “We Don’t Have to Take Our Clothes Off”–which is, for the record, the fucking jam–and for having quite possibly the most iconic blowout-and-thin-moustache combo in the game. But he had an illustrious career behind the scenes, as well: starting out as a dancer on Soul Train, then just missing a place in the group Shalamar, for whom he went on to dance and sing backing vocals; he can also be heard singing backup on Culture Club’s 1984 hit “Miss Me Blind.”
It was the Soul Train/Shalamar connection that led to “Jody,” Stewart’s second-best-known solo song, inspired by his close friend and former Shalamar frontwoman (/previous JCJ profilee), Jody Watley. It’s also a jam, with a dark electro-funk vibe reminiscent of 1999-era Prince.
Sadly, Jermaine Stewart’s life ended in a way his ebullient spirit didn’t deserve: he died of AIDS-related liver cancer in 1997, at just 39 years old. His passing echoes that of many other gay men who came of age before treatment and prevention of HIV were widely accessible–a reminder of one of the many reasons why Pride Month is important. Which, I realize, is a bummer of a way to end this post, but hey: if listening to Jermaine Stewart can’t put a smile on your face, what else can? You can hear him, and the rest of this month’s artists, on the playlists below.
Formed by Miami D.J. Lewis Martinée, Exposé originally released their first single, “Point of No Return,” in 1984. However, during the recording of their debut album, Exposure, the group’s lineup completely changed. Thus, “Point of No Return” was re-recorded and re-released in 1987.
Although Exposé exemplified Miami freestyle, “Point of No Return” stands out as particularly Jheri Curl–most likely because it was initially recorded at the pinnacle of Jheri Curl Music. It’s a fascinating example of the connections between two important strains of mid-’80s dance music.
And with that, this year’s Jheri Curl June Ladies’ Week is over–but there’s still one more week of festivities to go! In the meantime, playlists are below.
This Jheri Curl June, we’ve unsurprisingly talked a fair amount about artists from Minneapolis; but most of those artists–again, unsurprisingly–had a direct connection to the artist from Minneapolis, Prince. The Jets are a rare example of a Twin Cities R&B group from the mid-’80s that didn’t have the Purple One pulling the strings from behind the scenes. A Mormon, Polynesian American family band, comprised of the eight oldest children of Maikeli “Mike” and Vaké Wolfgramm–no, seriously, I had to crop half of the kids out of the featured image just to make it a manageable size–the Jets actually got started in the late 1970s, performing as “Quasar.” But it wasn’t until 1986, and their Number 3 single “Crush on You,” when the Jets really…took off (BOOOOOM).
I probably hear “Crush on You” at least once a day on the Sirius XM station the Groove, and it never gets old: it’s a frothy, energetic blend of freestyle and classic Minneapolis Jheri Curl, with lyrics (sung by the two youngest Wolfgramms, Elizabeth and Moana) that are exactly as wholesome as you’d expect from a bunch of teenagers in the LDS Church. If you can listen to this and not smile, I hate to break it to you, but you’re probably a sociopath.
We’ve got one more day of Ladies’ Week, followed by one more week of Jheri Curl June. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts. Playlists below!
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