The last week or so of Jheri Curl June is always a bittersweet experience, because with each passing day you’re reminded of the genre’s impermanence. Like the beautiful, delicate flower it was, Jheri Curl Music bloomed for only a short time; by the end of the ’80s, it was all but a distant memory. But even these waning years, there were still echoes of the J.C.M. glory days to be heard.
My wife introduced me to one such echo, “Roses Are Red” by Flint, Michigan’s own Mac Band, the other day. Led by singing brothers Charles, Derrick, Kelvin, and Ray McCampbell, the group were signed to MCA Records in 1986 after winning that year’s Budweiser Showdown, a nationwide talent contest organized by the Houston-based Starstream Records. “Roses Are Red” was the third and most successful single from their 1988 debut album, which was confusingly titled The Mac Band Featuring the McCampbell Brothers and produced by multi-year JCJ alums L.A. Reid and Babyface, with musical contributions by David Lewis of Atlantic Starr.
Like other LaFace productions of its vintage, “Roses Are Red” captured a transitional moment, with the hard-hitting drums (played by L.A. himself) heralding the coming of New Jack Swing. But just watch the video above, which looks like a group of uncles getting a few wine coolers deep and spontaneously trying to recreate Prince‘s video for “When Doves Cry”; these guys clearly had one foot in the mid-’80s, and you know what, I celebrate them for that.
We’ll close out this year’s edition of Jheri Curl June next week! In the meantime, here are the playlists:
We’ve spoken briefly about Perri “Pebbles” Reid before, in the context of our 2016 profile of her ex-husband and producer, L.A. Reid, as well as our 2018 profile on André Cymone, who co-wrote her contribution to the Beverly Hills Cop II soundtrack, “Love/Hate.” But part of the point of Jheri Curl June Ladies’ Week is to give the women of Jheri Curl Music a chance to step out from their male producers’ shadows and get their own turn in the spotlight; and besides, Pebbles’ 1987 debut album–and the Number 1 R&B hit “Mercedes Boy” in particular–is just too damn good to ignore.
Written by Pebbles herself and co-produced with Charlie Wilson (yes, thatCharlie Wilson), “Mercedes Boy” is vintage late-era JCM, with a freestyle-inspired programmed bassline and a positively dripping guitar solo. The music video, released in March of 1988, might try to fool us with its close-cropped male dancer; but we all know the hairstyle the boy of Pebbles’ dreams is really rocking, and let’s just say her Mercedes had better have some plastic headrest covers.
Sadly, that wraps up Ladies’ Week for this year; but Jheri Curl June still has a week and a half left to go! Until then, check out those growing Spotify and YouTube 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!
As we’ve mentioned before, by the late 1980s, the sound of mainstream R&B was developing into what would become known as New Jack Swing. We’ve been writing about this for five years now, so if you don’t get it by now, let me explain it in Pokémon terms: your starter Pokémon is Disco. With love, attention, and experience, that eventually evolves into Jheri Curl Music. New Jack Swing is its final form. The basic elements exist throughout, but the forms morph into a larger, stronger monster.
Bobby Brown’s “Don’t Be Cruel” was written and produced by Jheri Curl June inductees L.A. Reid and Babyface; and while it knocks harder than their work with the Deele, it still maintains much of the wet, silky flair of Jheri Curl Music.
It’s a poetic fluke of the cosmos that so many Jheri Curl Music innovators’ birthdays fall in June, the genre’s holiest month. So far, we’ve highlighted Prince (June 7), Jimmy Jam (June 6), L.A. Reid (also June 7), and Jesse Johnson (June 1)–as well as Michael Jackson, who passed away on June 25, 2009. Now, on the occasion of his 60th birthday, it’s finally time to induct André Cymone into the JCM Hall of Fame.
As Prince’s earliest musical collaborator, André Cymone played an integral, but regrettably overshadowed part in the creation of the Jheri Curl Music strain more popularly known as the Minneapolis Sound. On our Prince associates podcast from a couple of years ago, I described Cymone as the twin Prince (figuratively, of course) consumed in utero. So many of the more famous artist’s stylistic choices in the first three years of his career–from his embrace of New Wave sounds and fashions to the whole song “Do Me, Baby”–can be more accurately interpreted as a collaborative effort between himself and his one-time surrogate brother. By the time André, understandably fed up with the lack of credit for his work, went solo in early 1981, the persona known as “Prince” had been more or less fully formed; this inevitably did his longtime partner a disservice by making his solo career look like an imitation.
But today we celebrate André Cymone not as an imitator, but as the innovator he was. While he may not have scaled the critical or commercial heights of his musical other half, his efforts–both behind the scenes and in the spotlight–left an indelible mark on Jheri Curl Music, and on the last 30 years of pop and R&B in general.
This year marks our fifth annual Jheri Curl June, and we’re going to make it a thing or die trying. Join us as we define the Jheri Curl Music genre and share our picks for the most essential tracks; then, starting Monday, we’ll formally kick off the month-long celebration of wet, silky ’80s R&B. Oh, and listen all the way to the end, because we also announce the winners of our two free copies of Dystopian Dance Party Issue 1!
As you may have heard, we recently launched a physical magazine, the first issue of which is dedicated to eclectic art and writing inspired by the music of Prince. So, to celebrate a successful launch–and to get us back in podcasting mode after an unplanned six-month leave of absence–we invited Erika Peterson, a friend and contributor to the magazine, to talk about her work and the most funny/surreal moments of Celebration 2018 at Paisley Park. We also talk about Dystopian Dance Party’s ongoing beef with Questlove, and do our best to try and beat him at his own game of guessing Prince songs from their opening seconds. It doesn’t go well.
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.”
If you’re a regular Jheri Curl June reader, then you should already know that the first week of June holds special signifance in jheri curl music history. As we noted back in our very first Jheri Curl June Special of 2014, Prince’s birthday falls at the end of the week, on June 7. Just a day earlier, there’s also the birthday of megaproducer and Prince’s fellow Minneapolitan, James “Jimmy Jam” Harris III: the subject, with musical life partner Terry Lewis, of our 2015 JCJ Special. And if all that wasn’t enough, on the very same date as Prince, another Midwestern Jheri Curl architect was born in 1956: Cincinnati, Ohio’s own Antonio “L.A.” Reid.
With all due respect to Mr. Reid–who, in my defense, has so much money that I sincerely doubt he cares–there’s a reason why we waited three years to enshrine him in the Jheri Curl June Hall of Fame. If, as I suggested last year, Prince was Jheri Curl’s principal architect and Jam and Lewis its most successful engineers, then Reid and his longtime colleague Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds were more like JCM’s property developers, building on the blueprints of the Minneapolis Sound to considerable success without ever really innovating on the formula. When we think about L.A. and Babyface, we think about…well, LaFace, a label synonymous with early ’90s R&B. Their achievements in the previous decade were decidedly more modest.
But that doesn’t mean they weren’t, in their own way, important. Dystopian Dance Party has love for Reid’s and Edmonds’ early band the Deele, and last year we highlighted one of the pair’s late-era jheri curl productions, “Rock Steady” by the Whispers. There’s plenty of room in pop music for songs that refine and iterate on existing formulas, rather than reinventing the wheel; this is especially true in jheri curl music, a genre that existed pretty much exclusively as a vehicle for up-and-coming artists to bite from Prince and Michael Jackson. This, then, is our tribute to L.A. Reid: maybe not the most innovative of artists, but a shrewd businessman, a talented musician, and a gifted producer and songwriter who could, let’s not forget, buy and sell all of us in a second.
On Tuesday we talked about the Deele, the Ohio-based R&B group that kickstarted the careers of Antonio “L.A.” Reid and Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds. Today we look at one of the songs the duo produced under their production company, Deelesongz, Inc.: the Whispers’ “Rock Steady.”
The Whispers were formed in 1963 by twins and black Mario Bros. Wallace “Scotty” Scott and Walter Scott, and had several hits throughout the ’60s and ’70s. But “Rock Steady” was their first hit to make it into the Top 10 on the Hot 100, peaking at number 7. I like to think that the success of Rock Steady can be directly attributed to this amazing video:
