Dystopian Dance Party

Tag: minneapolis

  • Jheri Curl June: Lucky Rosenbloom’s “Keep Your Faith in God”

    Jheri Curl June: Lucky Rosenbloom’s “Keep Your Faith in God”

    Twice already this week, we’ve remarked that an apparently secular Jheri Curl June selection could also work well as a gospel song. Well, for today’s song, we can do away with the subtext: Lucky Rosenbloom’s “Keep Your Faith in God” is, unequivocally, Jheri Curl Gospel–J.C. for J.C., if you will. The song first came to my notice in an Instagram post by the vinyl reissue label Numero Group, whose compilation Purple Snow: Forecasting the Minneapolis Sound is basically a holy text in these parts. Numero, I learned, had repressed the obscure 1985 single; I took one look at the cover, depicting Rosenbloom posed casually with his Korg keytar and guns out, and I knew this song was making the playlist this year.

    I’ll spare you an extended biography of Rosenbloom, if only because I’m already dangerously close to falling down a rabbit hole and I don’t want to be here all night; suffice to say that he’s something of a fixture in Twin Cities local media, his name cropping up frequently as a prominent Trump supporter and self-proclaimed “only African-American firearms instructor in Minnesota.” Back in 1985, though, he was a less controversial figure, best known as the host of cable access show Lucky Mania TV, where according to Numero he “encouraged kids to say no to drugs and take their vitamins.” This context helps explain “Keep Your Faith in God”‘s lo-fi, vaguely Tim and Eric-esque vibe, as Rosenbloom–over a primitive electronic pre-programmed beat–asks in his surprisingly high voice for “everybody who believes in God to get up out of your seat and stand up, because we’re about to have some fun.” The song proceeds with Rosenbloom continuing to placidly whip up the congregation over swathes of synthesizer (presumably the aforementioned Korg). Over the fade, he chuckles, “Who says that people who believe in God can’t have fun, huh?”

    “Keep Your Faith in God” is unlike any other song we’ve ever covered for Jheri Curl June; it’s less “wet and silky ’80s R&B” than borderline outsider music. Had Lucky Rosenbloom been a fringe media figure in pretty much any other urban center, we’d probably never have heard of him; but he just happened to be from Minneapolis/St. Paul, and took cues from the local music scene when he recorded this weird, weird little record. As far as I’m concerned, this J.C.–I can’t speak for the other one–is a little bit richer for it.

    More Jheri Curl Music, both sacred and secular, can be heard in the playlists below:

  • Headbangers Book Club: Morris Day’s On Time (Part 2)

    Headbangers Book Club: Morris Day’s On Time (Part 2)

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    It’s #jhericurljune in July! After a brief delay due to COVID- and car theft-related trauma, we’re finally back with Part 2 of our deep dive on Morris Day‘s 2019 memoir On Time: A Princely Life in Funk! Join us as we celebrate one of the greatest cultural achievements of the late 20th century (“Fishnet”), and we’ll see you again in two weeks for the first half of Pamela Des Barres‘ I’m with the Band: Confessions of a Groupie!

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  • Headbangers Book Club: Morris Day’s On Time (Part 1)

    Headbangers Book Club: Morris Day’s On Time (Part 1)

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    It’s a special #jhericurljune installment of the ol’ Book Club as we dig into 2019’s On Time: A Princely Life in Funk by Morris Day with David Ritz–so, slightly less headbanging than normal, but don’t worry, there’s plenty of the important stuff (i.e., cocaine). We’ll be back in a couple of weeks with Part 2, at which point we’ll also announce our official HBC selection for July. Remember, don’t let us Meat Loaf!

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  • The Return of Jheri Curl June: Best Curls in the World

    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 cops still haven’t stopped killing Black people–nor, despite what our respective home states‘ 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!

    https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4DHwfbLgF2W2Xp2ZpqcDdg?si=70e608c9c71c4a79

  • Introduction: Jheri Curl June VIbe

    It’s a little hard to believe that we’ve reached our sixth consecutive Jheri Curl June, our annual celebration of all things wet and silky in ’80s post-disco R&B; yet here we are, kicking off Jheri Curl June 6–which, since we’re using Zapp naming conventions, we’re calling Jheri Curl June VIbe.

    Our criteria for what qualifies a song for Jheri Curl June are, for us, a little like what qualifies a work of art as pornography: we know it when we see (/hear) it. Basically, if the song calls to mind a big ol’ luscious J.C., then it makes the cut. But since not everyone shares our specifically hairstyle-based form of synaesthesia, we’ve laid out some ground rules in our original introduction post from 2014, our 2016 video, and our podcast from last year. The short version is, if it sounds like it was recorded in Minneapolis in the first half of the ’80s, then it’s in the Jheri Curl Music wheelhouse.

    Today’s song doesn’t come from Minneapolis at all, however, but from New York’s garage/boogie scene. “This Beat is Mine” was released in 1981 by the enigmatic Vicky “D”, a collaboration between producer Gary R. Turnier, formerly of pop-disco group Gary’s Gang, and songwriter Andre Booth, who would later emerge as a collaborator with hip-hop artists like MC Shan, Big Daddy Kane, and Lords of the Underground. Like many groups from this era, they weren’t exactly built to last: Vicky “D” released only one other single, the reggae-flavored ballad “Mystery Lover,” before disappearing in 1982.

    But what they lacked in longevity, they made up for with pure jheri curl juice, which drips plentifully off every one of “This Beat is Mine”’s 358 seconds: from the mewling synth line to the rapped interlude leading into a funky bass and rhythm guitar breakdown. And if the groove didn’t make it clear enough, the lyrics are here to spell it out for you: “It’s party music, so we all can freak / And do that dance / Oh, clap your hands now to this beat.” Don’t have to tell us twice.

    As always, we’ll be posting every weekday for the rest of this month with more silky-smooth classics from the jheri curl area. Watch the Spotify playlist grow:

    https://open.spotify.com/user/dystopiandanceparty/playlist/37nM5CZk77bC5rGY75gtIZ?si=xoEdD4ELQJmZ4iWO_ndyvw

  • Jheri Curl June Special: André Cymone

    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.

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  • Jheri Curl June: Charlie Singleton & Modern Man’s “Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

    This is our fifth year of Jheri Curl June, and it continues to amaze me how little we have to search for new songs and artists to spotlight: even five years in, we still end each June with a backlog of tracks we weren’t able to cover. But, especially toward the end of the month, it doesn’t hurt to have a little help. That’s why I was grateful when a friend of the podcast, Berlin-via-DC DJ and nu-disco artist Snax, brought Charlie Singleton to my attention earlier this month.

    Not to be confused with the Charles Singleton who co-wrote “Strangers in the Night,” Charlie Singleton was a guitarist and songwriter who played a major role in the band Cameo’s early-’80s shift from George Clinton-style P-Funk to Jheri Curl Music–he contributed backing vocals and guitar to our 2014 Jheri Curl June inductee “Candy,” among many other tracks. But he was also the focal point of a few of his own groups, including the delightfully-named early-’80s boogie group Stargasm and his vehicle from later in the decade, Modern Man.

    The title track from Singleton’s second album with Modern Man, 1987’s “Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained” has all the makings of a late-period JCM masterpiece: Minneapolis-style synth hits, clean funk guitar, and backing vocals by Charlie’s pals in Cameo–including a healthy helping of Larry Blackmon’s signature “oww!”

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  • Jheri Curl June: Georgio’s “Tina Cherry”

    Every year there’s at least one artist who I eagerly anticipate writing about for Jheri Curl June. This year, without question, that artist is Georgio. I already told the story on our latest podcast about the first time I encountered Georgio, flipping through the racks at my local record store (shout out to Purple Narwhal Records in Rockville, Maryland). I took one look at the sculpted cheekbones and tastefully-applied makeup on the cover of his 12″ single “Tina Cherry,” and somehow I knew that this would be my JCJ discovery of 2018. I promptly picked up not only “Tina Cherry,” but the whole stack of Georgio records, and took them to the counter.

    Since then, I’ve made it a habit of picking up whatever Georgio I can find at the record store–I got a copy of “Lover’s Lane,” another single from his 1987 debut, from Electric Fetus in Minneapolis this April. The thing about Georgio I should establish at this point is that his music isn’t great. It’s perfectly competent, on the club/house-ier side of the late-decade JCM spectrum, but there’s a reason why it’s usually priced so cheap that I can routinely afford to walk out with a stack of five or six of his records. My affection for Georgio has a lot to do with my conviction that the best Jheri Curl Music, or at least the most characteristic, is often the most mediocre. It also has to do with the tragicomic history of the man himself, Georgio Allentini.

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  • Jheri Curl June: Colonel Abrams’ “The Truth”

    In some ways, it’s surprising that it took us this long to feature Colonel Abrams (real name, no gimmicks) for Jheri Curl June. He was born in Detroit–always a big plus for us proud Southeastern Michiganders. He had connections to the architects of the sound, having sung on a few tracks by 94 East, a Minneapolis-based studio band that briefly featured an 18-year-old Prince Rogers Nelson on guitar. And, while the Colonel is better-known as a house artist, one listen to the whining synthesizers and flanged drum-machine claps on his 1985 debut album should be more than enough to get your Jheri Curl sense a-tingling.

    Like JCJ Class of 2015 member James “D-Train” Williams, Colonel Abrams distinguished himself by layering a soulful, gospel-infused baritone over his futuristic soundscapes. Indeed, “The Truth” from his debut album basically is a gospel song, with Abrams testifying “Let’s stop all hatred / ‘Cause love is what we need,” a bank of synthesizers taking the place of the church organ. I’m not a church-going man, but if it was anything like the music video above–featuring the Colonel in a graffitied alley, rocking Sgt. Pepper marching-band chic years before Michael Jackson and flanked by what appear to be the dancers from Pat Benatar’s “Love is a Battlefield” video–then I’d be in that bitch every Sunday morning.

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  • The Prince Issue Podcast with Guest Erika Peterson

    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.

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