Zach and Callie reconvene in (by our standards) record time for another Dystopian Book Club Official Selection: Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard on You? by Parliament–Funkadelic maestro George Clinton. Enjoy as we discuss our love of P-Funk and the book’s disappointing lack of hot deets on the Super Mario Bros. movie.
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Well, folks, it’s our first-ever Jheri Curl June podcast–and before you ask, yes, we’re talking about Prince again. This time, though, we’re shedding light on a somewhat less-discussed side of his career: the series of (very) thinly-veiled side projects and ghost productions he released in the early-to-mid-1980s under various pseudonyms, most famously “Jamie Starr.” If you’re even an intermediate-level Prince fan, some of these records are essential listening; so settle in, turn up your headphones, and get ready to take a bite of our purple rock.
But first, a word of warning, as I’m afraid there’s a factual error in this one: I was speaking from memory in the section about Sheila E, and incorrectly stated that “Noon Rendezvous” began life as a Revolution outtake. It was actually co-written by Prince and Sheila for the Glamorous Life album; the Revolution just happened to cover it in concert. Oops! Anyway, I left that bit in because I still like the song, so just enjoy the music and try to ignore the fact that I’m blatantly lying to you. Finally, if you like this kind of content (with less inaccuracies), check out my new side hustle: dance / music / sex / romance, a chronological exploration of every (known) song in the Prince oeuvre, which I expect to be updating a couple times a week until it actually kills me.
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Way back at the end of week one of Jheri Curl June, we argued that Prince left jheri curl music behind just after he arguably perfected it with his 1984 masterpiece Purple Rain. And while that’s technically true when you consider Prince’s career strictly as a solo artist/bandleader, it’s not quite the whole truth. Because by the mid-1980s, Prince had turned his patented “Minneapolis Sound” into a full-blown cottage industry of ghostwritten, ghost-produced, and sometimes even ghost-performed jheri-curl goodness; so while by 1985 he had moved on in his own work to stretch himself stylistically (and, eventually, just implode in on himself and resort to desperate trend-chasing), his presence continued to be deeply felt in the jheri-curl “scene” through the music of protégé-avatars like Mazarati, Jill Jones, and of course, Sheila E.
Sheila E rightfully gets props as the most talented of Prince’s many protégées, and it’s purely a testament to her abilities that we say “most talented” rather than “least talentless.” She was really the perfect storm for Prince, who has a notorious history of choosing what women to take under his wing via a combination of happenstance and penile plethysmography: not only is she just as sexy as a Vanity or Apollonia, but she’s also a tremendously accomplished musician in her own right (the “E.” is short for “Escovedo,” as in her father, virtuoso percussionist Pete Escovedo). By the same token, today’s track, “A Love Bizarre,” isn’t just a great song for a Prince protegee; it’s a great fucking song, period, and it stands toe to toe with everything else that came out of the Paisley Park camp in 1985-1986. Indeed, it’s still a staple of Prince’s live repertoire to this day, with or without the woman who made it a hit.
At the same time, though, certain aspects of “A Love Bizarre” indicate storm clouds beginning to gather on the jheri-curl horizon. The video above is taken from the 1985 movie Krush Groove, which co-starred Escovedo alongside up-and-coming rappers like Run-D.M.C., LL Cool J, and the Beastie Boys. Supposedly, Sheila and her band were objects of derision for many of the films’ extras–authentic B-boys and -girls from the Bronx–and it’s easy to see why: synchronized dance steps and New Romantic wardrobes may have passed for the cutting-edge of youth culture just a year earlier, but in the face of the hip-hop revolution, they looked as dated and cheesy as…well, the jheri curl. “A Love Bizarre” is, again, a stone classic, but look at the rappers’ names displayed behind Sheila in this video and you’ll see the writing was literally on the wall: by 1985, jheri curl music had already peaked, and it would spend the rest of the decade in recession.
I know that was kind of a bummer note to end this post on, but take heart: we’ll be back tomorrow with another highlight of late-period jheri curl music. Because even when jheri-curl is in decline, it never truly goes away: it lingers behind forever, like a greasy perm stain on a pillow. So cheer up, and check out all 12 minutes of “A Love Bizarre” on the Spotify playlist after the jump!