Sir Juice

I heard the news Saturday morning around 11. The Ab checked in and hit me with it, “Yo, you heard about Magic?”

I replied, “Johnson, or Mr.?”

“Mr.”

I knew what he meant before I asked, but I asked anyway, “Did he die?”

“Yeah.”

Filmmaker Ann Carli hit me with an FB e-mail around 7:00 PM later that day, that contained a link that shared the news that another pivotal 20th century figure (yeah, I said pivotal) had exited the stage prematurely. If you happen to be too young, or too square to know who he was, it’s cool. I’ll take a moment to put you up on game.

THE AB

HIP HOP PIONEERS SUPER ROCKIN’ MR. MAGIC
& GRANDMASTER FLASH @THE LEGENDARY DISCO FEVER
(courtesy of Sal Abbatielo)

As of yet, there are few history books or documentaries that accurately tell the tale of the colorful ensemble of rebels, playas, hipsters, hustlas and such that turned the fledgling hip hop industry into a cultural force of international importance. Before The Source, Vibe, Yo MTV, Sony, Warner Bros. Interscope, Arsenio Hall, Hammer, Dre, Kanye, Lil Wayne, Drake, 106 & Park, Hot 97, The Grammy’s, Madison Ave., Hollywood, Broadway and Oprah all decided that hip hop had some value, and would play some role in their various agendas, there was a handful of small independent labels, clubs and retailers who serviced a rabid consumer group who would come to be referred to as the “hip hop nation.” The nation’s capitol was located in early eighties “Money Makin’” Manhattan, the borough immediately found to the south of the “Boogie Down” Bronx the district where the people are fresh, and where hip hop was born.

The creativity and energy that spurred on the pioneers who labored without much rest or recognition during this period was mythic, and legends as well as empires were born. The label guys included; Bobby Robinson at Enjoy, The Robinsons at Sugarhill, Cory Robbins and Steve Plotnicki at Profile, Tom Silverman and Monica Lynch at Tommyboy, The Rifkind brothers at Spring, Sal Abbatiello at Fever, Clive Caulder, Ralph Simon, Barry Weiss and Ann Carli at Jive, Fred Munao at Select, Art Kass at Sutra, Arthur Baker at Streetwise. Rick Rubin and Russell Simmons at Def Jam and others. They were an unforgettable cast, all of them stars in their own right, and each of them owed some debt to an enterprising young man who referred to himself as “Sir Juice.” The guy who had control of the only block of air time where you could get a rap record played with consistency in New York on small, publicly owned WHBI-FM on “The Rap Attack.”

Out of this group, his was the earliest voice of the hip hop community. I joined his movie when it was already in progress. I returned to my beloved Soul City in the spring of ‘82. The weather broke early that year, and I found myself in a four man pick-up game one town over on the basketball courts in Tenafly. At the time, that court was a hotbed of activity. High school stars, D 1 players, school yard legends, pros and skilled enthusiasts all made their way to the Bergen County hoops mecca for a run.

This particular day I was on a hot four man half court crew and we strung together a few wins. One of our players had an obligation and bounced. There was one guy I knew on the sidelines that day, Black Music scion Joey Robinson Jr. first born son of Joe and Sylvia Robinson, the couple that owned the first important rap label, Sugarhill Records. I asked Joey if he wanted to run and he peeled the Adidas sweat suit off and gave us a good run. We won two more and broke it up. I’d spent part of the previous four years in both college and commercial radio as a DJ, and I’d kept up with the progress that his family’s business was making by releasing hits on; the Treacherous 3, Spoonie Gee, Grand Master Flash and The Furious Five and The Sugarhill Gang. They were making millions as an independent and building the first legitimate hip hop empire.

SUGARHILL WEST COAST PROMOTION EXECUTIVE SPIDER HARRISON & THE MAN WHO PUT THE playa IN THE GAME JOEY ROBINSON JR.

Science that I’d acquired as a DJ came in handy, as Joey and I got into a conversation about radio, demographics and hits. He offered me a gig at Sugarhill and I took it. The Robinsons were about to end hip hop’s innocence by dropping the politically aware screed, “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash and The Furious 5. I joined the company shortly in advance of this to head up college radio promotion for them. It was essentially a paid internship, but I learned from masters. His father (Mr. Rob) was a savvy vet who could string together airplay, manufacturing and shipping in a way that made sure that the small firm didn’t exceed demand, or under serve it either. His mother (Sylvia) had the platinum ear and made sure that the staff producers and session players came out of the studio with the goods.

All of this activity and knowledge would not have amounted to much if there wasn’t a place to test the records so one (in the parlance of the trade) could “see what you got.” This would be the least expensive way to determine if you had a hit by reaching the early trend setting portion of the audience via “Rap Attack” exposure. Mr. Magic had a loyal following that loved hip hop, thus making him the focal point of the early hip hop industry. If you were in the rap game and you weren’t down with Magic, you’d better know someone who was, or you were on the outside looking in.

Magic, along with a small network of club jocks that spun at place that included; The Fever, The Roxy, The Fantasia, The Roseland Ballroom, Danceteria and Bonds International all played rap when commercial radio held the music at arm’s length, and allowed a young and hungry group of studios, engineers, producers, musicians, retailers and execs to make a living, and in a few cases thrive because they played the music without prejudice. In this way, they created a groundswell that made corporate interests take notice.

BONDS INTERNATIONAL

A year in advance of my entry into the game, developments in the radio market got interesting. “The Chief Rocker” Frankie Crocker had successfully steered New York’s Black owned WBLS-FM to number 1 overall in the New York market by playing a mixture of Black dance records, classics, important new wave singles and European imports. This left him vulnerable to an attack on his Black teen and young adult listeners. RKO flipped it’s Pop AC flagship WRKO all the way into a Black teen and young adult format and began to cause problems with their newly dubbed 98.7 Kiss FM.

DISCO’S FIRST SUPERSTAR DONNA SUMMER & THE CHIEF ROCKER

Crocker was never one to be afraid to try something new and responded by hiring Magic and giving “The Rap Attack” a Friday and Saturday night spot on WBLS and transformed the Inner City Broadcasting property into “The Station With The Juice.’ With that hire, rap grew up. The first exclusive rap show was greenlit on a commercial station and it was on.

His weekend broadcasts were appointment listening and his “super listeners” formed groups around radios all over the tri-state area to get up on the newest and funkiest cuts that the game could get him on. He turned the radio listening experience into something closer to what it had been when pioneering DJ Alan Freed broke records by Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley while creating rock & roll.

As a Sugarhill employee, I was exposed to Magic regularly. His then wife, Lisa worked at the label. Every label in town had some relationship with him. His former request line intern Jalil formed a crew called Whodini, got himself signed to Jive and dropped the Thomas Dolby produced, anthemic tribute “Mr. Magic’s Wand” and smashed. Spring/Posse released a Spyder D produced jawn on Magic himself. The Jazzy 5’s “Jazzy Sensation” shouted him out on the vamp. Profile released 3 volumes of compilations named for the “Rap Attack.” Fever Records had the best relationship with him, and you could count on seeing him at the Bronx nightspot almost anytime you’d be there. His DJ, Marly Marl and his producer/manager comprised the two key elements of Wanrner Bros./Cold Chillin Records and signed a group of artists that included, MC Shan, Biz Markie, Kool G Rap, Master Ace and T J Swan and dubbed themselves “The Juice Crew.”

THE JUICE CREW

Success was a difficult concept for him and he was on and off the air a couple of times. He briefly tried an unsuccessful comeback on Kiss, but the Magic wasn’t quite there any longer.

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Shouts to Lisa Rivas, EBC, Winston Saunders, Sweet G, Romero, Lenny Fitchelburg, Barry Mayo, Fred Buggs, Manny Bella, Charley Stetler, RIP Steve Salem & John “Mr. Magic” Rivas

The Comeback II

A&R legend, Gerry Griffith has returned to post another guest blog for us. This time he completes the tale of how he discovered and signed Whitney Houston and found the first hits that would propel her to a career that has seen her sell nearly 200 million recordings.

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As I look back, I can recall a time before we signed Whitney Houston to a full contract, and Bruce Lundvall still wanted to bring the young diva to Elektra. I would drop in to see her perform with Cissy at the New York soul food cabaret Sweetwaters, and there he was sitting in the room…we would always gesture with a smile and wave. I’d worked with Bruce during his tenure as the president of Columbia Records. He’d promoted me to West Coast Product Manager, and later into the A&R ranks in Los Angeles.

My first project as Product Manager was Weather Report’s “Heavy Weather,“ and my first A&R assignment was to work with of one his artist signings, Bill Withers on his “Menagerie” album. Bill’s “Lovely Day” came from that album. Bruce had also worked for Clive Davis at Columbia in the 70’s as VP of Marketing. So now I’m the protégé in competition with one of my mentors… interesting times.

Bruce never got the chance to sign Whitney because from what I understood, the Chairman of Elektra “was not in to her.” But Bruce does have the distinction of releasing two tracks with her before we released a single recording on Arista; the song “Memories” with Archie Shepp on Bill Laswell’s 1982 Material LP, and with Teddy Pendergrass on his1984 duet “Hold Me,” on the ”Love Language” LP (with Arista‘s permission).Over the two years since signing with us, she was maturing into a star, as was evident on “Hold Me,” but we were recording big hits too.

Clive appeared on the nationally televised Merv Griffin show and introduced Whitney to the country. According to their producer, her appearance generated more positive letters and phone calls than any other artist in the show’s history! Unfortunately, this didn’t lead to creating interest from any A-list producers we approached. So Clive had the idea to showcase Whitney and her aunt Dionne Warwick in Los Angeles, where we would invite the top west coast songwriters and producers to see them perform. Our effort did not lead to one great song or interested producer, so we returned to NY and continued our search.

MERV

The Pendergrass hit duet “Hold Me’ was produced by Michael Masser. He’d had previous successes with headliners; George Benson, Peabo Bryson, and Diana Ross. Clive hired him for the project, and I brought in our new artist producer Kashif who was coming off his top 10 solo hit, and Evelyn King’s “Love Come Down” to write and produce. Jermaine Jackson had recently signed to the label and immediately asked to produce Whitney. Three talented producers, three interesting stories.

In the course of looking for song material, I got a call from producer Dennis Lambert. At the time, Dennis was a hit maker with diverse productions like; Glen Campbell’s “Rhinestone Cowboy, The Four Tops “Ain’t No Woman Like The One I Got,” and all of Tavares‘ hits. He wanted me to hear a song for Whitney’s project that he’d co-written with Siedah Garrett and Franne Golde. We met and I absolutely loved the song. I convinced Clive to have Jermaine produce and sing the duet with our budding star.

We completed the track and Clive loved it, but there was a problem. A few weeks after the basic production was completed, an apologetic Dennis called me to explain that he had to pull the tune from the project. He was producing (former Temptations lead singer) Dennis Edwards at Motown, and since our album was not slated for release any time soon, (Motown founder) Berry Gordy needed an immediate first single on Edwards. If you haven’t guessed by now, the song was ”Don’t Look Any Further.” We were devastated. Jermaine replaced the duet with a beautiful ballad “Take Good Care of My Heart.”

The next song came from my friend Brenda Andrews at Almo-Irving Publishing. The company signed two British writers Merrill and Rubicam, who wrote a song “How Will I Know.” Great song, now who could produce it? I was introduced to Narada Michael Walden by Angie Bofill at the time he worked on her Arista/GRP Records album “Something About You” in 1981. I had always loved his aggressive production style and attitude, he was producing Aretha’s Franklin‘s, “Freeway of Love” at the time for us. Taking time from Aretha, we had him produce “How Will I Know” for Whitney. Looking back, it seems the Columbia Records connection was at work again. Narada was the drummer for the Mahavishnu Orchestra, and Weather Report’s “Black Market” LP, two of my all time favorite bands, and Clive, Bruce and I were all with Columbia Records when these records were released.

Masser was creating pure love in the studio with his songs, especially “Saving All My Love for You,” and “Greatest Love of All.” He was perfect for Whitney. My good friend Kenneth Reynolds, who was an Arista product manager at the time, recently reminded me that the first mix of the song Masser delivered was so soulful that one would think Aretha was singing, and Clive announced at our staff meeting when he heard it, that it was “too black.” I really wish I had kept that mix!

Kashif bought Jackie Robinson’s home in Stamford Connecticut and built a studio there. One day while we were listening to songs, Kashif asked one of his writers LaLa Cope to sit and play a song she wrote titled “You Give Good Love.” The memory of this moment still resonates within my soul…the song was perfect for the project. A few weeks later at the final vocal session, Whitney aced the lead vocal in one take, we were speechless…this was to be my final contribution to her debut album.

I resigned from Arista in September 1984. Lundvall had formed a new label, Manhattan Records, with EMI America. He asked me to join him as head of A&R. It seems both of us needed greener pastures, and a fresh start.

During a trip to Los Angeles Bruce asked me to join him at Bobby Colomby’s house to hear a new artist named Richard Marks perform. Bobby was our west coast representative. When Richard ended his set, Bruce walked over to the piano, praised the performance and asked him to join the label. Traveling back to the office, I asked Bruce if I could A&R the project, he said yes…

WHITNEY, THE AUTHOR DISPLAYING THE ART OF GENTLE PERSUASION & DIONNE WARWICKE

EPILOGUE

From the time Whitney Houston released “I Look To You“, many of my colleagues have asked my opinion of the songs and performances on her new album. It’s been difficult not to read the many reviews, so after listening to the record and viewing the much anticipated Oprah and Good Morning America appearances, I now have a refreshed opinion of our world renowned superstar, not her music. The question (for me) is not whether the vocals are as remarkable as her past performances, if the song selection is brilliant, if the production values are fresh, or even if she will sell millions of albums.

The song “I Love” is her courageous triumph over odds that would stop most of us in our tracks. I choose to celebrate Whitney’s strength to walk into a studio, stand in front of the microphone and sing. For her to make music in the face of all the negative criticism that has haunted her over the years, to cast out the demons and sing her song, that’s what I honor. No matter how many albums she sells, my stand for Whitney is that we all realize that this human being is still the most celebrated vocalist in the world, or should I say the boldest and most celebrated vocalist in the world? The lady sings, and that is what matters.

More Than A Documentary

In the early ’80’s before the term Urban became in vogue, I was a radio DJ at then funk/soul, commercial outlet WQMG-FM Greensboro. I had an extremely enjoyable time spinning hits by Change, Slave, Roger Troutman, The Gap Band, Chaka Khan, Luther Vandross and an occasional release in a new and emerging genre called rap.

Before I was hired, I’d walked into the station’s control room on a bright and sunny summer’s day and asked the guy on air if he was the PD, and if he wasn’t where could I find him. As it turned out, the forward thinking young man who was on the air wasn’t the PD for QMG, but he was the program director at jazz outlet WNAAA-FM the college/public station for North Carolina A & T University.

He offered me an on air, mid-day slot four days a week, smoothed my transition into a new community, and ultimately made it possible for me to be hired at the 50,000 watt commercial outlet a few months earlier. His name is Tony Johnson.

Johnson is now a communications executive in the NY area and married with kids. He still gets around town a bit and recently caught the premiere of the new LeBron James documentary, “More Than A Game.” Please find below his account of the evening and the film.

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NIKE SPONSORED ‘03 ST. VINCENT-ST. MARY CHAMPS

“More Than a Game” is a documentary film directed by Kristopher Belman that follows the real life hoops dream of Akron Ohio’s St. Vincent-St. Mary’s high school basketball team’s championship season; and the drive, determination, and unity that is required to live one. It is not only a coming of age story, but one of dedication to a common goal as well. In contrast to our “me” driven culture, the film examines the camaraderie and sacrifice that it takes for a group to succeed by shining a light on 5 young black men who stayed in school, and out of trouble.

Belman dramatically captures the story narrated by head coach Dru Joyce II, and weaves a tale that uses the words of the 5 key players. Coach Joyce is my wife’s uncle and he graciously invited us to the NYC premiere of the film. The School of Visual Arts Theater is where the screening was held, and a Q & A session followed immediately after.

When we arrived, we could see that the school’s walls were covered with larger than life posters of the high school team that displayed the corporate logo of Nike- the team’s athletic wear sponsor. One of Nike’s most important endorsers was a member of St. Vincent-St. Mary’s cagers, NBA MVP LeBron James. James’ well documented jump from high school into the professional ranks gives this story it’s hook.

WILLIE McGEE COACH DRU JOYCE II LeBRON JAMES

The posters were well apportioned with the unmistakable Nike swoosh. I suspected that such overt branding might lend itself to, “More Than a Game” becoming a long form commercial for Nike and the brand that is LeBron. That wasn’t quite the case though. The movie isn’t fully about LeBron alone, nor is it explicitly about the Nike brand, or the technical X’s and O’s of basketball. “More Than a Game” is an uncorrupted look from the camera of director Kristopher Belman.

Belman began the film as a film class project while he attended the University of Akron. “I was simply trying to get an A,” he told the room of kids, and teenagers who stayed for the post film Q & A. Several rows in the theater were also reserved by and filled with Nike (funding), Interscope (soundtrack), and Lionsgate (distributor) execs, as well as friends and family for the premier.

KRISTOPHER BELMAN

In a addition to original footage, Belman ended up gathering still-pictures and footage directly from the players, their families, ESPN, and local TV coverage. The movie chronicles the early lives of the boys who came together at a Salvation Army gym on Maple Street in Akron, OH. That team would put Akron on the map, create a National basketball powerhouse, and produce one of the most talented players of our time.

Family members attest that Coach Joyce never asked anything of his team other than to play hard. Articles have alluded to his personal involvement and questioned his reasons. From the beginning this was about helping his son play basketball. It grew to being about his team his “boys” and never about his own personal gain; regardless of what was said to him personally or in the press.

PHOTOGRAPHED WITH HIS WIFE, THE AUTHOR

Men, especially black men should take notice to what is possible if you just stay active in your child’s life. Many of the male figures in the team members lives were not around. Joyce’s commitment shows what can happen when someone stays, and is still there. He keeps in touch with all of them to this day. He also led St Vincent St Mary’s to the 2008-2009 Ohio State Championship. His former players continue to have productive post high school careers and lives; LeBron James – NBA, Dru Joyce III – European Basketball League – Poland, Romeo Travis – European Basketball League – Germany, Sian Cotton – former defensive tackle for Ohio State University, Willie McGee – Graduate School – University of Akron.

Tony Johnson

The Comeback

Whitney Houston was a young woman who was blessed with looks, youth, drive, opportunity and one of the great voices of the 20th century. About 25 years ago, she dropped her debut release on Arista Records and it quickly became apparent that nothing would be quite the same for her (or us) ever again. She burst on the stage with a flourish and amidst a marketplace that was dominated by MTV-supported success, she cut through it all with a sweetly angelic voice and a virginal persona, and smashed with “Saving All My Love For You.”

One executive had the vision that projected the thin former model as a worldwide diamond-level success, A&R legend, Gerry Griffith. He discovered her and signed her to the label and then as a result of corporate politics, had the credit for his discovery given to others. What follows is his tale of how he found the great Whitney Houston. Oh yeah, her new CD “I Look To You,” her first new studio collection in a decade, debuted at No. 1 and currently sits at No. 3 on Billboard’s Hot 200 Chart.

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Most people in the music business see an A&R executive as someone endowed with special powers who is able to pull talented artists out of the water like fish on a line. Yes, it does happen, but timing and luck play a larger part in the discovery of the truly gifted artist. Sometimes you drop into a club and there they are, on stage singing or playing their heads off. Or sometimes, you might find yourself surprised by a tape or CD. And other times, the phone rings. In the case of Whitney Houston, two of the above happened to me.

Richard Smith, head of R&B promotion at Arista Records and I were attending a performance of one of our artists, GRP/Arista jazz man, Dave Valentine. He was playing in Greenwich Village at the legendary nightspot, The Bottom Line. Sweet Inspiration, Cissy Houston was the opening act. Because an A&R executive is constantly looking for hits, I would drop in from time to time on music publisher Love Zager to scout new song material for Arista artists. I knew Cissy through this. The set began, and Cissy was as captivating as ever, the audience enjoyed every moment. After about three or four songs, Cissy’s beautiful, wiry 15 year old daughter stepped out to sing; I had never seen or heard her sing before. After a song or two, Richard poked me in my side and said, “Man, you should sign that girl.”

My response was, “Yeah, for such a young singer she’s really good, and as professional as she is, I don’t feel she needs a bit more seasoning.“ Or something to that effect. Richard was pissed with my response, but that’s normal for record promotion guys, so I let it go and continued to enjoy the show.

Close to a year later, I received a call from my friend Fran who was not in the music business. She asked if I knew Whitney Houston. I said yes and related the Bottom Line story. Fran thought that I’d better make some fast moves because she had recently seen Whitney perform at a private party for two wealthy lady friends who wanted to secure a recording deal and manage the beautiful young artist and model. She suggested to her friends that they should consider Arista Records, and wondered if I would meet with them. I agreed even though the ladies had no prior management experience. Additionally, I knew that Whitney had management but they were prepared to buy her out of her existing management deal.

What I heard next from Fran freaked me out! Bruce Lundvall, who was then President of Elektra Records was interested in signing her. I thought that I had blown it and that I should have listened to Richard. I also thought that if my boss Clive Davis found out that he’d be pissed. Crazy shit like that was going through my mind. In the A&R game, we don’t get many chances to sign the special ones.

BRUCE LUNDVALL

As a courtesy I met with the two ladies, made no promises, thanked them and split. “So, OK, now what?” I asked myself. The answer: call Deidre O’Hara at the publishing company for Whitney’s manager’s telephone numbers. Got it. I called Gene Harvey, introduced myself, and in a joyful accepting voice Gene said, “Arista, oh yeah, Clive Davis.”

I accepted what all Arista executives have had to tolerate: the fact that the boss always upstaged us. I asked if I could see Whitney perform again before they made a decision about a label for her. Gene said no decision had been made, and that she was performing on the upcoming weekend with Cissy at Seventh Ave South. Thanking Jesus and thinking I needed a drink, I left with a smile.

Seventh Avenue South was a cool small bar owned by the Brecker Brothers and was appropriately named since it was located on the southern edge of the West Village on 7th avenue. It was around the corner from the best dance club in New York, The Paradise Garage.

THE SWEET INSPIRATION

I didn’t have time to meet Whitney before the performance, so I chilled with a Heineken and a smoke before the show started. While the band assembled, Whitney, her brother Gary and the other background singers took their place on stage. Since the previous time that I’d seen her, she had matured and seemed taller. The band began to play and Cissy appeared to the audiences’ applause…little did I know that history was in the making.

Cissy sang three or four songs, then Whitney stepped out for her contribution, which was stunning, especially her version of “Home,” the Stephanie Mills hit. I was totally amazed how she had grown vocally and stylistically. Whitney had the natural ability to take a song and recreate it with the vocal prowess and command that I hadn’t heard since a young Aretha. She was powerful, present, fearless, yet so young and innocent.

I met with her after the show and told her how amazed I was at her stage presence and vocal talent, and that I wanted to set up a showcase for Clive. Now you must understand, that growing up the music I was exposed to was Ella Fitzgerald, Dinah Washington and Billie Holiday. Included among the artists I had worked with were Aretha, Dionne, Phyllis Hymen, Jennifer Holiday, and Minnie Riperton. This young lady had the potential to join this illustrious crew. OK, so now it was time to get Clive on board.

The next day, I boldly walked into his office and asked for a meeting. I sat down and told him that I heard an amazingly talented young singer that we must sign and that I wanted to showcase her for him within a week. He said “OK, set it up.” Damn, that was easy!

Using Cissy’s band and background singers, we rehearsed for five days. At around 6:30 or 7:00 the night of the showcase, I went to Clive’s office to take him to the gig, and to my surprise he asked me if we could move the audition to another time since he had a difficult day and thought it best if he didn’t attend this night. I was silently pissed, but I refused to back down and calmly explained that Whitney had worked very hard to give him a great thirty minute show that promised to be lively. Clive acquiesced, and we took the elevator down to 57th Street where his car was waiting. It was a fifteen minute drive to the rehearsal space on 35th and 8th Avenue.

It was a funky joint on the sixth floor, that was used by many well known bands and performers. We walked in and were met enthusiastically by Gene Harvey, Cissy came over to say hello to Clive, and after basic pleasantries we all sat down. Showtime!

ARISTA FOUNDER CLIVE DAVIS, A YOUNG DIVA & THE AUTHOR

Whitney approached the mike. She was young, beautiful and confident. Confidence: that professional quality she had learned from a very young age singing in the church, at private affairs, and on the road…for those of us who had experienced her glorious gifts, we were nervous yet joyful. Young Whitney had that “wow” factor that keeps you on the edge of your seat anticipating the first downbeat. She choose all the songs, but I insisted that she close the set with “Home.” Clive was cool, showing little emotion during the performance until the last song. I had worked with him for almost three years, and I had a natural feel for what made him pay attention…the big melodious ballads with strong hooks. I also knew that her version of “Home” would get his attention. After the show, he expressed how impressed he was to Whitney, and said we would talk at the office tomorrow and let them know his thoughts. Clive left and we all congratulated Whitney on a great performance. Cissy and Gene were both very confident she would get the deal…me too.

I met with Clive the following day, and to my surprise he was not impressed enough to sign her. What the hell went wrong? Whitney gave a killer professional performance. I refused to let this lady get away from us, so I continued to explain that if we don’t do this Bruce Lundvall would sign her in a moment once he finds out about the showcase. Well nothing worked until Clive took a few of his friends to another of Cissy’s shows where his friends told him that he was crazy not to sign this talent. So we did sign her, but to a three song development deal with our option for a complete album once the three songs were accepted…now I went to work looking for producers and song material… So why didn’t Bruce sign her when he had the chance?

to be continued…..

Michael Jordan and the insideplaya

NBA insider David Aldridge has been commissioned by NBA.com to do a piece in observance of Michael Jordan’s induction into the Naismith Hall of Fame next week. He has decided to compile an oral history that he has asked me to contribute to. Please find a few of my observations below.

DAVID ALDRIDGE

I am a music business veteran who grew up in New York with family ties in North Carolina, and I now live in Charlotte. When it comes to Michael Jordan, I am a particularly schizophrenic basketball fan. I am a lifelong die hard Knicks fan and a UNC Tar Heel supporter since my teens. It pleases me to see that two of my cut ‘em and they’ll bleed blue friends, Jewel Love & Kenny Smith have been invited to contribute as well.

Michael Jordan’s play as an undergrad in Dean Smith’s system was a joy to behold, and contributed significantly to my overall appreciation of Chapel Hill tradition. During the ‘81-’82 NCCA basketball season, I was a DJ at WQMG-FM Greensboro and caught most of the UNC schedule on TV. Chapel Hill’s season was one long highlight package. I especially remember an offensive rebound and put back that Ralph Sampson was on the business end of, durning the second regular season UNC vs. Virginia game. Having followed his exploits the entire year, I was not surprised to see Michael cash one for all the marbles in New Orleans later that year. It would prove to be a harbinger of the frustration that Pat Ewing (and I) would experience as a result of Michael’s competitive instincts and unbridled need to win.

Once Michael became a pro, the pride that I felt because of the success of a favored son of my mother and father’s home state began to turn into something else; to me, he justifiably became the enemy, as a result of earning the right to be called the greatest Knick killer of all time. He was a disruptive figure and an obstacle to all that was good from my mid 20’s to my mid 30’s. If one’s greatness is determined by the greatness of one’s enemies, then I am one of the greatest basketball fans in the country. I hated that guy with a passion.

THE KNICK KILLER

I’ve met Michael three times. We have a few friends and many acquaintances in common. Most recently, I ran into him last year on the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend here in Charlotte. My old friend Q-Tip was in town to do a show in support of his latest release. We ran into MJ as we were going to the show. The Celtics had played his Bobcats earlier that evening and I asked if they had won. He graciously replied “No.” It’s interesting to see how he has had to learn how to handle losing later in life, as he’d helped to teach me earlier, through his consistent mistreatment of my beloved Knicks.

The second time we met, I was having dinner at New York’s Coffee Shop with the noted journalist and screenplay writer Barry Michael Cooper. It was early November of ‘93. The leaves had fallen and you could smell basketball in the air. It was the beginning of his first retirement. We were seated in a banquette in the back and Michael was in a booth in the front. I walked up to his table to remind him that we’d met in the same restaurant the previous year when he was with Spike Lee and Charles Oakley (a great Knick). I told him that I didn’t want to interrupt his meal but I was dining with the author of “New Jack City” and that I would bring him over to introduce them to each other in a bit. Less than 20 minute later, the most famous athlete of our era made his way over to our table through a packed joint and introduced himself. He was thoughtful, polite and humble with a mild exception; he threatened to come out of retirement by the end of the season and crush my dreams of a Knick title one more time.

FILMMAKER/JOURNALIST BARRY MICHAEL COOPER

The first time we met, I was at the Coffee Shop in May of ‘92 having brunch with Russell Simmons, Christy Turlington and a date. It was a gorgeous spring afternoon and we’d caught a playoff matinee earlier that day at the Garden. One of the partners in the restaurant came over to tell us that Spike would be bringing Michael and some friends by. I was in full Knick regalia; a blue windbreaker, new blue Nikes, Gap jeans and shirt, and a fresh, crispy, blue, orange and white Knick baseball cap. At the time, Chicago was defending their first of the Jordan/Pippen/Jackson titles and they were riding high. First year Knick coach Pat Riley had led his team into Chicago and stolen the series opener and he would have gotten the second one too, if not for some late game heroics from BJ Armstrong.

An impromptu table was improvised for the Jordan/Lee party. Michael was at the head of one end of the table. Russell, Christy and my date went and spoke to His Airness, I kept it moving and went down to the other end of the table to speak to Oak. I felt the need to stress the importance of hitting his free throws to him. I also spoke to Spike and his old partner Monty Ross. I was just about to leave when Michael made a huge smile, extended his hand toward me and said. “Hi, I’m Michael Jordan. Don’t be mad.”

MY BRUNCH COMPANIONS

Here is the link to David’s entire piece on MJ @NBA.com

http://www.nba.com/2009/news/features/09/03/aldridge.jordan/index.html

insideplaya

The Madness

In the wake of the tragic loss of Michael Jackson, the playa has spoken with many industry professionals, insiders, artists and extended family members about the sometimes confusing circumstances surrounding his death. I have also done quite a bit of reading, and while sampling the views of many authors, I had the privilege of reading a compelling Facebook note written by music marketing vet David Belgrave. As a result,  I was forced to convince him to add his wisdom to the playa’s blog, and he graciously consented. David has quarterbacked campaigns for Nas, LL Cool J, Method Man and Maxwell, and he’s not pleased with the way the media has been remembering The King.

insideplaya

It feels like things have calmed down a lot in the last several days.  Just a little over a week ago, so many of us were at the height of our grief as we watched the Michael Jackson Memorial.  In the days leading up to the service nobody knew what to expect. We each had our own idea of what the service should be, who should speak, what songs should be performed… but no one was certain and the constant media speculation just made it worse.

I’m happy to say that for my circle of friends the memorial service did what all memorials should do. It comforted us and provided an outlet for our grief. In the endless media cacophony of medical experts, legal experts and “breaking news” it was at last a place & time where we could come TOGETHER and express our loss and sorrow.

I watched it with a great many of my friends as we all plugged into the CNN feed on Facebook. I found much needed comfort and emotional satisfaction both, in the words of remembrance as well as each performance. This service managed to achieve what the hundreds of hours of news coverage prior or since had failed to… to make Michael human again.

THE KING IN PEACE

What I found disturbing was the media’s commentary & coverage of… THE MEDIA’S COMMENTARY & COVERAGE… specifically criticism the volume of coverage. Really?? That’s like dogs complaining that dogs bark too much. This is who they are and this is what they do.

“When you see 100 satellite trucks parked around it’s hard to feel reverent.”
- Marc Istook of TV Guide

Really, Marc?? Did you feel that way about the coverage of Princess Diana’s funeral? Perhaps you felt this way during the funeral coverage for Pope John Paul II?

We have all watched many global broadcasts of world events. I don’t recall ever hearing anything sounding like Mr. Istook’s observation before. What I have heard are all the networks marveling at their power to bring minute-to-minute coverage from every angle into every television or computer around the world. Watch our live coverage! Click over to our cable partner for continuing coverage! Log onto our website! Follow us on Twitter! Sign-up for our email alerts! That’s traditional media hype for sure but they haven’t been on point with this story from the start. I subscribe to TMZ, and they HAVE been scooping the media giants from the start of this MJ story.

As I type this Matt Lauer just reported the MJ investigation is turning into a homicide investigation and cited TMZ as The Today Show’s sole source. Welcome to the new media reality of the information age where traditional news institutions are rendered impotent by the power of the Internet and the empowerment of the user! Maybe they’re trying to “over-compensate” with all those big satellite trucks. Hmmmmm…

“The problem with Tuesday’s Michael Jackson memorial service as a TV show is that too often it felt like a TV show.”
-David Hinckley of NY Daily News

The arrogance displayed by Hinckley’s statement infuriates me because everything the Jackson Family did INSIDE the Staples Center felt like a moving memorial (even if you feel Usher shouldn’t have touched the casket). Everything that the media set up OUTSIDE the Staples Center… THAT felt like a circus. It was a carnival of correspondents; a parade of panelists. They must have had lions, elephants, clowns and a big-top in those satellite trucks as well. In fact, one person I spoke to who attended the service described the exterior of the Staples Center as a “surreal carnival atmosphere.” In contrast he described the mood inside the venue as solemn and respectful. Four other people who attended all agreed about the tenor of the proceedings inside the venue.

Then there’s MSNBC’s Donny Douche… pardon me, Donnie Deutsch. He said “People who are crying in the streets that don’t know him [MJ], they need to maybe get a little bit of a life.” Seriously, Donny? When Elvis died I saw thousands of people gathered outside of Graceland and along the funeral route in Memphis. All of them upset, most of them crying and some of them even dressed like Elvis… Did THEY actually know Elvis? Maybe these were all the people that Elvis bought Cadillacs for during his life (you know how he liked to bless people with Cadillacs) No? I didn’t think so either.

FOR DONNY, DAVID AND THE REST OF ‘EM

The night John Lennon was murdered I saw thousands of mourners gathered on Central Park West outside The Dakota. They were carrying signs and holding candles as they sang “Imagine” and “Give Peace A Chance” through a river of tears. Did THEY know John?? Maybe these were all people who attended John & Yoko’s 1969 “bed-in” where “Give Peace A Chance” was recorded and are on the actual record! No? I didn’t think so either.

I don’t recall anybody saying that these mourners in Memphis, NYC or all over the world should get a life. It’s not just that I disagree with Mr. Deutsch, it’s that what he said doesn’t even make sense. People react to things and then show emotions accordingly. That’s how we’re built. People cried when President Obama was elected, or when the Red Sox finally won the World Series again, or when somebody on Oprah is sharing a tragic story. We don’t personally know any of these people but still we are moved. Shit, we cry at movies and those people don’t even EXIST… forget whether we know them or not. I don’t know Tony, Maria, Bernardo or Riff and they do not exist in real life but I surely shed a tear at the end of West Side Story!

GETS ME EVERY TIME

I’ve got THE BIG IDEA for you Donny Deutsch… shut the fuck up! Who ASKED you?? (I’m sure there’s a more eloquent way to put it but that felt right!).

Now I’m not comparing the value of one life to another but let’s consider Anna Nicole Smith. Her final chapter had many of the same plot points as Michael’s… drugs, 911 calls, enablers and child custody battles. Michael may have gone from showbiz to sideshow in later years but Anna Nicole was ALWAYS a sideshow.  I didn’t hear cries over her coverage.

This is the same media that covered David & Victoria Beckham’s coming to Los Angeles for two months like it was the Apollo moon landing… in a country that doesn’t give a shit about soccer OR the Spice Girls. The same media that for at least THREE news cycles covered Obama campaign comments of “lipstick on a pig” regarding the Republican’s Pailin strategy as if we all didn’t IMMEDIATELY recognize the phrase as a commonly used expression… like sure, this black man running for President is REALLY calling this white woman a pig in the national media while still trying to court salty Hillary Clinton supporters.

Other than a sitting U.S. President, Queen Elizabeth or Osama Bin Laden I can’t think of anybody on Earth that would get more interest and coverage from suddenly dropping dead of cardiac arrest than Michael Jackson.

The media is ridiculous and has been that way for a while now. We have 24 hour news cycles for which they pick 3 hours worth of news and beat it into pulp. Then they spread that pulp all over the various shows on their channel. Larry King and Anderson Cooper cover the SAME aspects of the MJ case and their shows are back to back repeating three times a day! Anderson Cooper really should change the name of his show from “AC 360” to “MJ 24/7.”

Whoopi Goldberg says, “Michael is the gift that keeps on giving.” That doesn’t just apply to the families, the lawyers, the doctors, Sony Music and hangers-on… IT ALSO APPLIES TO THE MEDIA. They’re pimping Michael just as hard as anybody else. Despite some of media’s comments to the contrary, they KNOW what a huge story MJ’s passing is and especially under these circumstances. They know it and they want to reap the benefits of this intense interest fueled by the grief of LIFELONG fans. Then when we do watch and give them the ratings they crave, they clown us for caring so much about Michael. WTF?!?!

ALL MICHAEL ALL THE TIME

A VOICE OF REASON

THE AUTHOR

In all the coverage I have watched, the collective media seems to give Michael props for only four things… being a child prodigy, giving a historic performance at Motown 25, breaking the color line at MTV and selling record numbers of Thriller. Most of Michael’s other accolades seemed to be given by the GUESTS on all these shows or people on the street being interviewed.

Some media try to camouflage their swipes of the MJ coverage as concern for the general awareness of us citizens. When Elisabeth Hasselbeck of The View put her 2 cents in about the volume of MJ coverage she cited “real” news stories we might have been missing. She spoke of the US military personnel that were killed in Afghanistan the same day Michael died and listed their names. I certainly have NO issue with honoring those who have fought and died for our freedom by saying their names. However, most times when US military personnel die we just get a number, no names. The only time we usually get names of soldiers killed in action is from the local news when the fallen soldier hails from our local area. I guess Elisabeth wanted to go the extra mile on that particular day.

The fact of the matter is that the MJ coverage did not stifle my receiving other news. I heard about the soldiers killed in Afghanistan. I was up to speed on how President Obama’s trip to Russia was going.  Thnx for the concern anyway Elisabeth but unlike the mass media I can focus on more than three news stories at a time. However media, if you really are concerned with our well being and awareness I leave you with this thought:

If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at YOURSELVES and make a change. HOO!

-david belgrave

Nasty’s Girl

The tennis playing Williams sisters are on and trying to decide which of them will be walking away from the Wimbledon Women’s Singles Championship with the victor’s trophy, the same trophy they’ve passed between them for a decade. They’ve got the shine and the paper so, at this point, history is what it it’s all about. Venus is attempting to catch the standard bearer—the great Billie Jean King—in overall grand slam singles titles, and Serena’s aim is to win for the first time in six years while exacting revenge for last year’s defeat in two sets at the hands of her older sibling. While putting this down, the playa has witnessed Serena dominate her sister and win the title in less time than it has taken to properly finish his blog.

KEEPING IT IN THE FAMILY

In the world of other defending champions, the Los Angeles Lakers are on the verge of upsetting the NBA summer free agent marketplace by acquiring Ron Artest, the “True Warrior,” the nickname that he answers to during Harlem’s legendary summer tournament: the Entertainer’s Basketball Classic. The standout Queensbridge Projects’ product, is an often troubled but gifted bare knuckles competitor who incited a riot after a Detroit Pistons fan threw beer on him. He is the best one-on-one defender in the NBA and a legit 20-point-a-night scorer; thus making him the rarest of breeds: a big time scorer who will do the dirty work at the other end of the court. His arrival in Laker land was made possible when emerging star and NBA Finals hero, Trevor Ariza’s agent miscalculated the amount of leverage their position held in their free agent negotiations with Laker GM Mitch Kupchack. It is worth noting that My Knicks drafted Ariza and traded him, and passed over the hometown product, Artest, the year he came out of St. Johns. On another Laker note, my old friend Laker lead scout Rasheed Hazzard caught his first world championship ring with last month’s Laker defeat of the Orlando Magic. Get ‘em Sheed! Stay focused! And congratulations to his brother and sister-in-law, Jalal and Shalott on the newest addition to the squad, Marley. Mother and child are both at home resting comfortably.

LAKER DON MITCH KUPCHACK

If you’re not a friend on my Facebook list, you’re missing out. We just had a celebration of some of the finer moments in the history of Black Music which is currently experiencing a worldwide resurgence, courtesy of the music of The King. Steaming portions of soul, funk, jazz and hip hop were served from the insideplaya’s You Tube archives all month (you can find my FB address on my blog roll.) Jazz fusion icons Weather Report were featured, and made us recall a time when shit was just a little bit funkier. The music of the visionaries Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff was represented by posts from Archie Bell & The Drells, The O’Jays, Teddy Pendegrass and MFSB. Minneapolis hat wearing hit men, Jam and Lewis were acknowledged, as well as the late Luther Vandross. Of course, the recently departed King was remembered too.

Black Music is a river that has flowed on and on, and on through the years. You can observe it safely from the shore, or you can jump in. I’m a swimmer, and have kept up with the currents for over a generation. I was especially blessed to have been at ground zero for New York’s hip hop explosion. The New York of Grand Master Flash, the Zulu overlord/DJ Afrika Bambaataa, Fab Five Freddy, Nells, The Red Parrot, Bentley’s The Roxy, Danceteria and The Fever. Funky Town USA was deep and rich in the feeling, and the beat was strong then. You could hear the urgent sound of hip hop in the parks, on car stereos, spilling out of boom boxes, and filling the ear drums and souls of restless kids who had been battered by supply side economics. The damage that had been wrought by exclusionary practices was assuaged by the intoxicating medicine of two turntables, a mic and funky individuals with extremely mad flow. The rhythm was airborne, and in the wake of “Thriller”, it seemed that just about everyone I knew was creative in some way or another: break dancers, graffiti artists, MCs, DJs, actors, comics and entrepreneurs were all getting their grind on to the fresh sound of the come up.

FLASH

BAM

FAB

At the time all this was going on, I was a radio promotion executive for hire. In what was then a tightly knit business community populated by a handful of mom & pop operators, word of my prowess traveled fast. Because I had access to airplay at then powerhouse Urban, 98.7 KISS-FM, and the pioneering Black FM Heritage outlet, WBLS I was in demand. Good friends touted my skillz to the independently distributed record label community. The late Steve Salem, third generation Black Music exec, and SRC and Loud Records mogul, Steve Rifkind, and legendary Jive creative executive turned filmmaker Ann Carli (Tokyo Rose) all helped to put the playa in the game.

STEVE RIFKIND AN EARLY SUPPORTER

Success in music circles, and especially in New York music circles leads to increased access. Increased access leads to influence, and influence is courted and feted. As a result of this, I often found myself mixing with more established executives in the wider community. In the summer of ‘86 I was invited to a party on a yacht that was thrown by the then small independent upstart Jive Records to celebrate the 3 X platinum success of their British (West Indian) Black Pop breakthrough sensation, Billy Ocean. In attendance that Friday night were some of the real and future playas in the game. Jive was then being distributed by Clive Davis’ Arista Records, so he was in the place to be. Additionally, then Arista promo don, and future Sony chair, Donny Ienner was present. A & R man Ed Eckstine was in effect. New Jack swinger Andre Harrell was on the list. My hostess Anne Carli was on board as was a young 19 year old NYU coed, Faith Newman. I should have known then that she’d make history of her own. Faith came to the party with an attorney, and we struck up a conversation that continued once we were back on shore. She was Jewish and from Philly, and was crazy about Black Music. She was current on all the latest hot twelve inches, radio cuts, mix show jams, club bangers and ballads. She was also capable of passing the acid test for flava, she could do any Black teenage dance that came out. You may scoff, but there were many a young Black adult who could not credibly do the “wop.” Faith had a lot of soul.

FAITH AND A FRIEND

Night life was of major importance to the fledgling hip hop business because club jocks played your record first instead of waiting for it to be on the radio. It was this fact that gave the night world the edge that comes with being experimental. I had access to all of the important jocks and all of the important clubs. Faith became a club hopping buddy during that summer. She was living in a small Greenwich Village apt. and was ready to rock at a moment’s notice. As a summer of clubbing began to turn to fall, Faith needed to go back to school. She wanted to further her music business education and she was looking for an internship. I had contact at CBS Records and recommended her for an internship in the dance department. She flourished, and would eventually leave NYU early and land her first paying job in the game, a coveted A & R spot with Def Jam Recordings. Def Jam became her graduate program in hip hop. In the early ’90’s she bounced from Def Jam and took a position with it’s distributing label, and she joined the company where she first began to intern, Columbia Records, as an A & R executive. The gamble that she’d taken to leave NYU early was beginning to pay off, and would have a bigger payoff still. An artist/hustler/utility playa from her Def Jam days gave her a call about an artist that he was shopping. The hustler was MC Serch and the artist was another product of the Queensbridge housing project, the ill lyricist Nas who was then referring to himself as “Nasty” Nas.

3RD BASEMAN AND UTILITY PLAYA SERCH

YOUNG NASTY

A deal was struck for the young MC’s services and Faith got started making a record with the wunderkind. I had moved on to the A & R ranks myself and was busy making a bit of history with the signing of a young Virginian with a little talent of his own, and Faith and I were not in contact on a regular basis. When you become immersed in making a record, you are living, eating and breathing that project until you get that first record on the radio. Then you’re only breathing it, as you begin to fight with the rest of the departments in the company for their budgets, energy and contacts in support of your initial vision. This part of the game was made harder, as record companies at that time were primarily staffed to exploit rock and pop records. Even executives within the Black and Urban radio departments were not steeped in the vibrant street/club and business culture that was producing A & R executives like Faith Newman. But she was undaunted and proceeded to collaborate with her young charge and together they would not just make a record, they would make a hip hop classic, “Illmatic.”

Nas had appeared on the influential “Breaking Atoms” by Main Source and spit lava on a guest spot on “Live At The Barbecue.” I’d had the album, but at the time of it’s release I was immersed in compiling the soundtrack to the crack classic, “New Jack City.” The Nasty one’s debut went without notice by me. Serch and Faith had not been similarly distracted.

I first became aware that the Nas era was about to begin on an autumn night in ‘93 in Brooklyn. I’d been playing basketball at the Eastern Athletic Club with the Simmons brothers, Rush and Run. The chauffeur driven black sedan that had been the vehicle for many a club runs was waiting for us after the run, and the driver Kenny Lee was accompanied by a friend, the young producer/MC/DJ/ trendsetter and Tribe frontman, Q-Tip. Our eventual destination was Cafe Tabac – the downtown model magnet of the moment.

We were listening to DJ Red Alert’s mix show on KISS-FM and the party starting “Gangasta Bitch” came on and blazed. Tip said, “I made this shit.” The radio was turned up past rattling so the bass could be felt just so. As was his habit at the time, Tip asked me, “What’s the hottest record in the street right now?” As many times as he’d asked the question, you would think that I’d be prepared to answer, but he ambushed me again. Mercifully, Red Alert came to my aid and distracted him by playing “Halftime” the debut setup jawn from Nas.

IN THE LAB GOD’S SON & FAITH SURROUNDED BY MEMBERS OF THEIR HIT SQUAD L-R, PREMIERE LARGE PROFESSOR Q-TIP AND L.E.S.

All I can remember of my impression of that first listen was a furious lyrical intensity that seemed to reach out of the radio, grab you by the throat, and force you to listen. I remember snatches of lyrics and punch lines, “Nas why did you do it? You know you got the mad phat fluid when you rhyme” “I set it off with my own rhyme/’cause I’m ill as a convict who kills for phone time.” He was aggressive, clever and inappropriate. He was mad B.

The CD that followed several months later contained 9 more examples of excellence produced by a squad of young hit men including, Large Professor, Premiere, Q-Tip, Pete Rock and L.E.S. All through the spring and summer of ‘94 “Illmatic” was top 5 in my crib. It was an essential collection of beats and rhymes that served as a window to what was going on in the streets of New York. The album has been lauded by publications like The New York Times, Rolling Stone, The Source, XXL, and others as one of—if not the best—hip hop album of all time. No true hip hop collection is complete without it. After its less than enthusiastic initial reception at retail, it eventually went platinum in 2001.

The former NYU coed left Columbia Records, and Nas struggled with an ever increasing desire for mainstream acceptance on the part of his label, and his handlers without her guidance. Despite this, he became the voice of his generation and eventually left Columbia to sign with Def Jam. It is worth noting that when MC Serch first began to shop Nas’ demo he played it for my old basketball playing buddy Russell “Rush’ Simmons who passed on the chance to sign him. Faith Newman is now married to a nice Jewish doctor, living between New York and Pittsburgh, and involved in building a publishing company. We don’t do the clubs anymore, but we’re in touch.

insideplaya

Peace to Steve Kopitko, Clive Caulder, Gail Bruszewitcz, Pete Nice, The Latin Quarter, The Underground, Kool Lady Blue and Chuck Chillout

The Feeling

The BET Awards played Sunday night. They didn’t play so much as they occurred. It was a mixture of bad taste, poor production and confused purposes. What was initially intended to be their annual slickly produced presentation of the current state of affairs in the Urban Music community was disrupted by the sudden and tragic death of The King of Pop. In a fit of cultural responsibility, BET was forced to do the thing that it does least well: honor the rich, historic legacy of the Black Music experience.

To be totally fair, the timing of Michael Jackson’s demise on Thursday, not only caught the channel ill-prepared to celebrate the life of the most successful artist to ever receive exposure through its feed, but it made the larger point that the Urban Music community didn’t quite know what to make of the passing of the legend. He hadn’t exactly been revered in the later stages of his life, and it was apparent that not many of those in attendance had given much thought to his circumstances recently, and they were not quite certain why their moment to shine had to be used to honor a guy who hadn’t been hot in years. But who can blame them? The fallen superstar’s own father took advantage of a red carpet opportunity to promote the launch of a new label to be helmed by him.

JAMIE FOXX THE HOST OF THE BET OCCURRENCE

s the host of the evening’s proceedings, Jamie Foxx was doing too much. He was there to promote his latest J Records release, provide witty master of ceremonies banter coming out of the commercials and pay tribute to the music and persona of Michael Jackson. The poor casting choice of Foxx, and Ne-Yo singing the J5 classic “I’ll Be There” was a colossal mistake. Ne-Yo performing, “The Lady In My Life” was more than the young LA Reed protégé should have been entrusted with, and The Cash Money clique performance with Drake, its hot property of the moment, dramatically illustrated how strong production does not necessarily produce artists with the ability to deliver on stage. Perhaps it could all have been blamed on the alcohol. BTW- the performance of Hova’s new joint that proclaims the “Death Of Auto-Tune” prompted Foxx (in a post-game interview) to defend his smash “Blame It On The Alcohol” for its liberal use of the studio device made hot by the ubiquitous production style of T-Pain. T-Pain can only hope that Jay-Z’’s pronouncement falls on the apparently deaf ears of the current Urban A & R community.

OVERDONE? FRIEND TO THE DEAF?

There were some highlights; the O’Jays, members of the 2005 class of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame were given a “Lifetime Achievement Award”. Tevin Campbell was in fine form and looks like he may be on the comeback trail. Action adventure star, Tyrese shone brightly as a member of an O’Jays tribute group that included, Johnny Gill and Trey Songs. I wondered if Mr. Songs had ever owned or heard the group’s classic Gamble & Huff produced “Family Reunion” or the Afro-centric “Ship Ahoy”. If so, his performance didn’t suggest a familiarity with the material. I’m a little partial to the O’Jays as I’d been assigned to work with them during my days as an EMI A & R executive. My input consisted of agreeing with pretty much everything they wanted to do, and our collaboration resulted in the mid tempo, “Somebody Else Will” turning into a highly charting radio hit. It’s worth noting that lead singer Eddie Levert also lost two performing sons to untimely death, Shawn and the legendary, Gerald, two members of the excellent trio, Levert.

Overall, it appears that Black Music is, at best, in a transitional period. The sales of the Michael Jackson catalogue are reasserting the strength of the currently underserved Black Pop market; their hunger is not quite being satiated by Chris Brown and Ne-Yo. Soul-based music fans have been driven underground and are making the music of Eric Roberson, Ledisi, N’Dambi, Conya Doss, Raphael Saadiq, Jill Scott and other so called, Neo Soul artists a viable alternative to “mainstream” industry market dominance. I didn’t see any of the previously mentioned artists on the BET Awards.

The King is pulling the industry out of its doldrums in the same way he did when “Thriller” was originally released in ‘82. Back then he had a little help from the late great, Luther Vandross when the same label released Luther’s second album, “Forever, For Always, For Love.” Those 8 songs really began to pave the way (economically peaking) for the strongest live attraction in the history of Black Music. Luther was a ladies’ favorite, and could pack almost any sized venue with his tributes to romance. This time another ladies’ choice may provide some needed lift. Maxwell.

THE LADIES CHOICES

Next tuesday, Maxwell will release his fourth full length studio recording since his 1996 debut “Urban Hang Suite” his homage to Marvin Gaye’s “I Want You.” Blacksummer’snight is the first installment of a trilogy to be released over the next two years, and is a follow up to “Now” the smash collection that provided a needed soothing source of reassurance in the wake of the September 11 disaster. Nearly eight years later, and amidst great anticipation the soul man has dropped “Pretty Wings” which to these ears sounds like the record of the year thus far. It’s the first track from the project, and it’s a gently apologetic mid-tempo tale of remorse that has become the fastest mover in the history of the Urban AC chart. The Prince influenced vocal starts with the sound of a glockenspiel/chimes in it’s intro that recalls Michael Jackson’s cover of the Stevie Wonder lullaby “With A Child’s Heart” and closes with a vamp that features a horn chart that references the Rascals’ “It’s A Beautiful Morning.” The video clip of the cut is a gorgeous slice of fantasy that intercuts a more simply styled Maxwell performing the song without the afro or braids, singing on a simple set while three different paramours are set free through their dreams of Maxwell and begin to float upwards. Beautiful imagery.

AFTER EIGHT YEARS…THE SILENCE ENDS ON TUESDAY

The new single “Bad Habits” is a pleasing bit of reggae funk about addictive love. But the show stopper is “Stop The World” a joyous celebration of conquest that features some prominent organ playing, crisp drumming and begging that ends all to soon.

In 2006 I spearheaded a return to the music business for the too long absent D’Angelo. In August of that year I participated in a meeting in New York with the Neo bad boy, his then label Virgin and their former Black Music chief, Jermaine Dupri. While in New York, I was staying at Eric Goode’s Maritime Hotel, and on the morning of the meeting I awoke in a hotel with no running water. August in New York is particularly unforgiving, and the prospect of a label meeting without a shower was out of the question. The manager on duty was kind enough to pay for cab fare and an admission to the 10th Street Baths the legendary Turkish sweat lodge, and spa to the hip hop elite. After a steam, sauna and massage I was resting in one of the common areas in the facility and I ran into Maxwell. We’d seen each other around campus since the beginning of his career. I asked. “How was the new record coming?” Since I knew that he’d been recording for sometime.

He said, “Fine.” He was underselling.

insideplaya

1 love to Manjit, The Ep, Stuart Mattheman, Toure, David Belgrave, The Ab, Bonnie Thornton, Melissa King, Wah Wah Watson, Spy Bar, Ken Wilson RIP Frankie Crocker

There’s a West Indian on Your Back/The Spirit of Our Ancestors

Noted jazz enthusiast, producer, DJ, re-mixer, and label executive Brian Michel Bacchus has taken time from his latest project (a tribute to Chick Corea that features The Manhattan Transfer among others) to contribute a guest shot to the insideplaya. Brian and the playa have known each other for 25 years. Somewhere along the way, he found time to discover and sign the decade’s biggest selling artist, Norah Jones.

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Often my partner in SoulFeast, Joaquin Claussell, asks me about the good ole days before protools and auto-tuning when Dolby SR was the rage and it was best to use it when you were running that 2 inch tape at 15 ips instead of 30. When I think back to those good ole days, I often think of my time at Island Records running the Antilles label. Not only was I given pretty much a blank slate to build upon, but the vibe and spirit fostered by my main man, Chris Blackwell, opened up opportunities and led to experiences that I would never get to have again.

Almost 20 years ago, my good friend Jean-Philippe Allard who was running Verve France approached me about co-producing and jointly releasing a major project that first appeared as if it were going to be recorded over three continents with the final tracking taking place in Morocco. The artist was Randy Weston, who had just released a trilogy of Portrait albums (Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk and Randy Weston). Randy was no stranger to me and I was both a friend and a fan. The arranger for the precipitous project was to be the great Melba Liston. This was a shock to me as Melba had suffered a stroke several years back and had lost the use of the left side of her body. She hadn’t been performing, much less arranging, but you see she and Randy had a deep long musical history and he never gave up on her, and conversely she never gave up on him. She was the arranger for his first United Artist release, Little Niles named for his son Azzedine. (Azzedine, Mtume and T.S. Monk all grew up together and Azzedine was the secret behind Juicy Fruit according to both Mtume and T.S. – all great musicians that were also the sons of great jazz musicians; Randy Weston, Jimmy Heath & Thelonious Monk respectively). Randy and Melba’s collaborations both live and on record went on their entire lives. Anyone that’s heard Tanjah, Uhuru Afrika or Highlife by Randy Weston knows of the potency of their musical marriage. But this was an even more ambitious project and Melba was out of commission – or was she? Randy explained to me that Melba had been teaching herself new notation software on her Mac, with the arm and hand that she had limited movement with, and that she wanted to arrange this music. The list of people that Melba has arranged for is a who’s who of Popular Music; from Billie Holiday and Dizzy Gillespie to Marvin Gaye, Gloria Lynne and Bob Marley, in all genres across several decades. So though difficult, Melba created magic once more and it would not be her last.

GIFTED ARRANGER MELBA LISTON

With Randy Weston pulling for her and Melba telling us out the side of her mouth that, “It was going to get done!”, we started planning on how and where we were to record. Randy had a good relationship with Air Maroc as he had lived in Morocco for near 10 years and ran a very successful music club there. So he and I went to meet the head honcho here in NY and we were ushered in and served that strong sweet tea while Randy introduced us. I gave my spiel asking for help with the airfares for around 15 musicians and entourage, engineers, PR and a few label folks. After putting down his tea he said Air Maroc would be honored to be the carrier for this project, he would just like to have their logo on all CDs and advertising, which I agreed to right away. Just like that! I then found a 24 track remote truck in Paris for the right price with the idea that the engineer and I would drive it down through Spain and take the ferry across to Morocco. After being treated so lovely our hopes were dashed with the breakout of the first Gulf War and an initial restriction from the State Department for travel to Morocco. We then had to shift gears and re-organize for a recording in NYC!

As we had planned to use recording engineer, Jay Newland (Norah Jones, Etta James, Abbey Lincoln), who worked at the old RCA studios on 44th Street, we decided to make Studio A with it’s 40 foot ceilings home for the duration of the project. The power and history present on our first day of recording was palpable. And the camaraderie between all the musicians was infectious not just because they all had not been in the same room at once ever before, but also because sitting in the wheelchair with these amazing charts was someone they never thought they’d see in a musical situation again.

A SIDEMAN

THE MASTERMIND & AUTHOR

The line-up, so you’ll appreciate the vibe:Randy Weston (piano, composer), Dizzy Gillespie (trumpet), Idris Sulieman (trumpet), Phaoroh Sanders (tenor sax, gaita), Billy Harper (tenor sax), Dewey Redman (tenor sax), Benny Powell (trombone), Talib Kibwe (flute, alto sax), Alex Blake (bass), Jamil Nasser (bass), Idris Muhammad (drums), Azzedine Weston (percussion), Big Black (percussion) and Yassir Chadley (percussion, karkaba[the precursor of castanets], vocals). And out in her wheelchair leading this historic ensemble was Melba Liston. Dizzy who was only needed for one extended song, African Sunrise, stayed for two days. Abbey Lincoln came for the whole session just to hang out with us and celebrate Melba’s return. Various other jazz luminaries stopped through that had heard Melba was back working again to pay their respects. Even Quincy Jones sent a messenger from Qwest with a note for Melba.

Dizzy played a few jokes on me that started the first day I walked into the studio when he was already there. After making introductions to everyone in the control room, as I walked by again, he yelled, “Hey Man, You got a West Indian on your back!” I turned around quick but it took a minute before I got the joke. I was wearing my Island Records/Antilles jean jacket that had Bob Marley’s image on the back! That summer I would run into Dizzy again at Northsea early in the morning when he was trying to catch a few zzzz’s in the back of his cab. I woke him up with a rap on the window and then flashed my back. We both cracked up as he headed on to the next show. I would only get to work with Dizzy one more time and that would be his last recording. That same summer I also ran into Carlos Santana three times and each time he tried to steal that jacket cause of that West Indian on my back. Once in Juan Les Pin in the South of France at the invite of Patrick Moxy who was managing Gang Starr at the time. While Premier and I were groovin’ on a Chester Thompson organ solo, Carlos moseyed backstage, saw that West Indian and proceeded to coax me into letting him try it on. Wrong! Took all night to get it back. The next time was in Aruba a month or so later and then again at the invite of Vernon Reid who was sitting in with them at the Felt Forum at the end of the summer. Each time he tried, but I was prepared. I still have that jacket, worn and tattered. That West Indian is a little worse for wear but I’m proud to wear it because it always reminds me of Dizzy Gillespie and those history making The Spirits of Our Ancestors sessions with Randy Weston, Melba Liston and my elders.

- Brian Michel Bacchus -

The King And I

I haven’t written in weeks. My plan was to return with a blog that celebrated Black Music Month, and shared my impressions of the latest Maxwell CD. But as in most cases over the last 30 years, Michael Jackson will receive the higher billing. Maxwell will wait; his new project is butter, and will get its just due soon. Stay up.

As I’m writing this, it’s been a little more than 36 hours since TMZ broke the devastating news of Michael Jackson’s death. Tears have been shed, e-mails, IM chats and phone calls sharing mutual condolences with close friends and fam have provided the needed outlet to both reminisce and mourn. Amongst my friends and extended family the reaction has ranged from nostalgia to hurt and shock. How could such a voice be silenced at such a young age?

A FAMILY AT WORK

Ironically he leaves us in a year that coincides with the observance of the 50th anniversary of the founding of Motown, the dream factory where he was groomed to be the most important recording artist that America has ever produced. I’ve sampled some writing on his life of great accomplishments and squandered opportunities. I’ve watched as much cable coverage as I can stand. Earlier in the week, MSNBC was playing in the background, they’d gone wall to wall King Of Pop since Thursday night’s dinner hour. An MSNBC correspondent was periodically filing reports from in front of the LA County coroner’s office. She interrupted a round table discussion on MJ with the breaking news that there wasn’t a final autopsy report yet. For the purpose of this segment the concept of “news” was being liberally interpreted.

Alleged advisors, confidants, friends and former business associates were wallowing in the lurid muck of prescription drugs, self mutilation, child abuse, court cases, media manipulation, surrogate parenting, alleged child molestation, and financial ruin. Some of them had that glazed-over expression that seems to be a requirement of ill prepared guests taking part in a tabloid-driven celebrity wake. In order to adequately fill the news cycle, producers have scrambled for “gets” that have dragged the discourse down to its lowest common denominator. They’re all offering recollections about their association with a legend. In life as well as death, stories concerning almost any aspect of the Michael Jackson phenomenon all but guarantee ratings. All of this serves to remind us that despite his eccentricities, Michael Jackson was a beloved cross generational figure in the Black community, and we take a dim view of exploitative media coverage of his tragic and untimely death.

The coverage lacks a certain something. Unbelievably, there doesn’t seem to be anyone that has related a story about what it was like seeing a pictures of the J5 cut out from “Right On” magazine and taped to the bedroom walls of what appeared to be every young girl you knew or were related to. No one seemed to have had the experience of seeing a seamless, killer performance of a J5 hit by the group on “Soul Train” or Ed Sullivan’s must see Sunday night showcase. Apparently no one had ever heard “Rockin’ Robin” blaring out of every possible radio you could encounter for an entire summer. There didn’t seem to be anyone available that had ever experienced a family outing to see the young King concertize and dedicate his performance of “With A Child’s Heart” to his fellow icon and label mate, Stevie Wonder, as he lay at death’s doorstep in a Durham hospital.

No one interviewed could attest to the awesome power of the Swahili-sung break in “Wanna Be Starting Something” to get a packed dance floor working to a frenzy. No one related a tale of new love being experienced while “The Lady In My Life” quietly played on a home stereo. No one spoke about the goosebumps that must have been felt the first time the pattern of the kick, snare, high hat, bass and synth locked in underneath the strings of “Billie Jean” and the footsteps of The King lit up sections of the sidewalk the first time you saw the breakout video. No one spoke about the pride felt when The King broke the color line at MTV with the same clip.

Also on Thursday, the US Congress was led in a moment of silence by Rep. Jesse Jackson Jr. I guess he remembers the Operation PUSH benefits that the band of brothers could be counted on to appear at. Or maybe he remembers the mysterious Atlanta child murders from the early ’80’s that prompted a benefit by the Jacksons to raise money and point the spotlight on the F.B.I.’s inability to find a killer before over 20 young black men were reported as murdered.

The only people that I am certain had the knowledge of these experiences and countless other variations were the people that I saw gathered at UCLA Medical Center for a spontaneous vigil, the Times Square pedestrians who had fond and rich memories of hearing “P.Y.T.” when it was newly released, the crowd gathered underneath the marquee at the World Famous Apollo Theater singing “Rock With You” in unison… I’m certain they knew; I could see it in their eyes and hear in their voices. They knew how much joy that The King had given them, and they were grateful.

A YOUNG HARLEM RESIDENT AT THURSDAY NIGHTS CELEBRATION
PERHAPS WORKING TOWARD THE DAY WHEN HE CAN LIGHT THE
SIDEWALK BENEATH HIS FEET (photo courtesy of Sareenah Davis)

As a guest, I wouldn’t be useful to the coverage I’ve watched. I never had a meal with Michael Jackson, never worked with him, and never had a conversation on the phone with him. But I feel like I knew him better than many of the so called experts I’ve been watching because I knew him in the way that was most important: through his music. Oddly, none of the other angles, stories or guests would be of importance if all that music hadn’t been so pervasive.

Thanks to the seemingly endless choices that I found on You Tube (where the past lives forever), the Black Magic that marked most of his 40 year career as an entertainer has been posted on my Facebook accounts. With each clip seen or song heard, vivid, sharp and bittersweet memories flood my consciousness. The Jackson 5 performing a medley of their hits with Cher catching the feeling and sharing lead vocals with The King. Without anything to blame but the boogie, she starts rocking a little J5 style choreography too. In the clip she is adapting like a fish to water. I am reminded that she hit big with the soulful working girl anthem “Gypsies Tramps and Thieves.”

In another clip, the young brothers are making an appearance on “The Merv Griffin Show” and The King steps into an uncertain and mostly white audience to gain votes for his campaign to be elected King Of Pop. In an excerpt from “The Carol Burnette Show,” her second banana, Vicki Lawrence, was being schooled on how to “express yourself” to the strains of “Body Language” the under-appreciated, lame duck first single from their last Motown release “Moving Violation.” By the time this last record dropped, it was clear that the bulk of the family would be moving on to CBS Records, and Motown chieftan, Berry Gordy didn’t put his best good faith effort forward in support of the single. But it was still dope!

Also found was the historic rendition of “Billy Jean” on the Motown 25th Anniversary special “Today Tomorrow and Forever.” In the heat of the moment, The King accents his track date performance of the classic cautionary tale of a paternity suit with the simple yet revolutionary idea of walking backwards to the beat. With that stride of genius, he propelled the Black Music game forward and took all of us with it. Once again, the reliable healing power of soul is doing its thing. I am beginning to feel inspired.

I only met Michael Jackson once. We were both guests at a party that Diddy threw at the home of west coast billionaire Ron Burkle. The MTV Movie awards had been taped earlier in the evening, and Diddy did what Diddy does: he took advantage of a networking opportunity and threw a Diddyfest. The evening was A-list all the way, and there were more than a few headliners in attendance. A film producing acquaintance, Mark Burg was in the place to be. He was accompanied by his date, the late Farrah Fawcett, and he introduced us. While we were talking, my old friend Brett Ratner motioned for me to come over to his table and be introduced to The King. Mark and Farrah saw the signal and followed me over. I thought it was odd that Angel and The King hadn’t met before, and I was pleased to have been a part of the two icons meeting.

THE ANGEL

When I shook his hand, The King felt frail and appeared to be medicated. We didn’t chat long because I didn’t want to impose. He was polite but not quite present. I excused myself and began to circulate through the rest of the party. At the time I was surprised by The King’s lack of vitality.

Later that same summer I was extended an invitation to Neverland, the 33 acre estate that the King lived on just north of Santa Barbara. Long time aid to The King and his family, Steve Manning invited me. I took a date and her girlfriend. Joe Jackson’s 70th birthday was the occasion.

I’d always felt connected to Michael through his music. Soul City residents Freddie Perren, and Larry and Fonce Mizelle had been members of the crack Motown songwriting and production team that had given the J5 many of their first hits. Larry and Fonce’s youngest brother Rodney and I were schoolmates and he’d invited me to their family home on a summer’s day long ago. A wall in their living room was covered with platinum and gold RIAA album certifications. Many of them had been awarded for participation in the success of J5 projects. Even then The King was lighting a path to creative success with that uniquely bright light that was produced by the biggest recording star that the world has ever known. It’s still shining, Thriller is the number one selling i-Tunes download today, 27 years after its initial release. I love the music of Michael Jackson. I wish I’d told him when I had the chance.

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Mad love to Cynthia Horner, Flo Anthony, Karen Tinsley-Farrakhan, Sandra Edwards, Valerie, Rhonda, Barry James, Tammy Lucas, Bernard Belle, The Ab, D’Angelo, Pam Hall, Suzanne DePasse, Skip Miller, Pam Lewis, Rush, T.C. Thompkins, Larkin Arnold and the Jackson family