Missy Elliott tweeted today that “Up Jumps Da Boogie,” from Timbaland and Magoo’s Welcome to Our World, will turn 26 this year.
Welcome to Our World was part of the Blackground catalog re-released in 2021 after 20 long years being withheld from streaming and out of physical production. I had the honor of working with the Empire Records team on marketing strategy for the releases (I mean honor – how many people get to be part of introducing music that already shaped their lives to new audiences?), and realized “Up Jumps…” was the perfect primer on the Superfriends collective – it’s also still A BOP.
So we did an old school pop-up-style joint!
I owe the entire Superfriends a proper post and tribute, but for now, revisit the #MusicSermons on Missy & Tim as an introduction!
Long time #MusicSermon congregants know we do our own version of #MarchMadness over here – with music brackets, of course!
Since we’re running back content from the last five years of #MusicSermon, we’re revisiting the very first #MusicSermonMadness bracket – the 90s R&B Tourney. In fairness, I messed up the seeding the first time, so this year y’all get to do it (also, I don’t want y’all typing all hard at me in my mentions lol).
There’s also room for a few write-ins (bc I probably forgot a couple of folks).
Feel free to forward and advocate for your faves!
The idea is to chose the acts that best represent the SOUND and FEEL of the 90s!
SOLO ACT CRITERIA:
(Group criteria is less stringent because there are fewer groups to choose from)
Debuted PRIOR to 1999.
Artists who were still recording and charting in the 1990s but transcend being defined by any one decade (Patti, Aretha, Gladys, Barry White, The Isleys, etc) are excluded.
As is #MusicSermon’s policy, artists who were global and megastars at the time (like Mariah, Whitney, Sade, Janet, Prince, Michael, etc) are excluded
#HeWhoShallNotBeNamed is also excluded. While his contribution to the genre is undeniable, I don’t want people to get distracted from the bracket by having a convo about whether he should have been included on the bracket.
In 1990, singer Phyllis Hyman complained to Donnie Simpson during a BET Video Soul interview about record labels shifting their focus from talent to artist “packaging,” using production to supplement raw talent. “They’re picking up kids off the street, pretty much, and producers are producing these albums. These kids have literally no talent. But they look right. I’m telling you, get a girl, get the hair weave on, make her lose 30 pounds, (snaps) you’ve got a hit record. Can’t sing a lick!” In the shift from substance to style, which started gradually happening in music in the mid-’80s, Phyllis and other singers with big voices got shelved, dropped, or simply ignored in favor of younger, more pop-friendly and video-friendly acts – with arguably less ability. “(It) pisses me off. It makes me big time angry because I have spent so many years developing this talent,” Phyllis added. She wasn’t alone.
The ‘90s is the last decade of R&B dominance –the genre grew and evolved from new jack swing to hip-hop soul to neo-soul – but the ‘80s was the last pure R&B era. The end of disco and the rise of the quiet storm format made room for big vocals over lush productions. Mid-tempos and ballads reigned supreme, and vocal production tricks like autotune were the exception, not the rule. You had to be able to sing forreal. Only a handful of female artists who were strong in the ‘80s – the ones with crossover success, including Janet Jackson and Whitney Houston – made it past the early 1990s, but the decade had sangers. With multi-octave ranges. Trained in the background vocal trenches of soul singing masters. As we continue to celebrate Women’s History Month, VIBE looks at three of the critically under-celebrated female voices of ‘80s soul and R&B.
Vesta Williams
Vesta Williams started her career singing for Bobby Womack, Jeffrey Osborne, Anita Baker, Sting, and most notably Chaka Khan. The similarities in Vesta and Chaka’s tone and style are immediately noticeable, and rumors persist that Vesta actually laid some of Chaka’s session vocals in later recordings.
Side note: Vesta liked to clown, and was a wildcard in live interviews, especially with men. She’d have them just flustered and giggling and not knowing where to go next.
A&M Records originally wanted Vesta to lose weight and sing lead for a girls group, but she held out until they extended a solo offer. Her first single, “Once Bitten, Twice Shy,” was a moderate hit, cracking the Top 10 at R&B radio. The lead single from her sophomore debut solidified Vesta’s spot in R&B history. Another Vesta rumor is that “Congratulations” was inspired by Bruce Willis, her alleged long-term but semi-secret beaux, calling off their relationship and marrying Demi Moore within months. Allegedly.
Vesta was sultry and sexy and representing BBWs (big, beautiful women) in a major way, but not quite intentionally. As is a theme with the women in this group, stress and insecurity over her career and her image led her to battles with her weight. Behind the scenes, she was fighting with her label over support, but on camera and on stage she exuded confidence.
She also brought the lively energy seen in her interview with Arsenio on stage. It was a signature part of her act. “I do like to interject…as much of myself as possible (into my show), because it’s terrible when you go to see a lot of these artists, and you pay your money – and you pay a lot of money now – and the show is terrible,” she told Donnie Simpson in an interview (Donnie got all the tea). “They can’t sing. They can’t reproduce what they did on the record because they punched in every line. You know it’s terrible… Those people shall remain nameless.”
Vesta also complained to Donnie, as Phyllis did, about the focal shift from vocal talent to production.
Vesta and Phyllis’s frustrations – which are still echoed today by singers who possess wide range, power, and vocal control, but can’t get their careers off the ground – were valid. Vesta’s voice was transcendent without even singing lyrics. She invoked the emotional gamut from struggle and loss to hope and triumph just through some “Oooohs” in the Women of Brewster Place theme.
Vesta recorded through the ‘90s, but only had one more hit of note, 1991’s “Special.” She never got the push she wanted from A&M Records, but always had the support of “home” – the R&B community.
Convinced that her weight was holding her career back, Vesta lost over 100 pounds after the Special album. “This is a very visual era,” she told Ebony in 1996. When I lost my record deal, and my phone wasn’t ringing, I realized that I had to reassess who Vesta was and figure out what was going wrong. I knew it wasn’t my singing ability. So it had to be that I was expendable because I didn’t have the right look.”
The recording jumpstart she was hoping for didn’t happen, but Vesta worked. She had a couple of on-camera roles in film and on TV, and you would often hear her distinctive voice luring you towards certain food or consumer good.
This commercial sounds like a take on the Women of Brewster Place theme, and I feel a way about it.
Shout out to Burrell Advertising, one of the oldest black-owned media companies in the game – for all the extra-black McDonald’s and Coke commercials you remember from the ‘80s and ‘90s.
Vesta continued to perform, but never staged a full come-back. She released one final studio album in 2007. She was found dead in her apartment in 2011 – ironically, while in the process of filming her episode of Unsung for TV One. An overdose was initially suspected; Vesta was taking anti-depressants, and pills were found in her room. But final reports revealed hypertension as the cause of death, a tragic plot twist for someone who’d worked so hard to improve their health.
Lisa Fischer
Lisa Fischer is one artist happy she didn’t become a bigger solo success. As with Vesta, the pressures that came with being a woman in entertainment – to be thin and glamorous – were overwhelming. She was more comfortable where she started, in the background.
Lisa began her career with Luther Vandross. Luther famously began as a backing vocalist himself, and as a world-class vocal producer and arranger, was known to only have quality talent behind him. He was not only her first gig, but her longest. Lisa sang on every tour and album with Luther from the mid-80s until he stopped working.
It’s going to be too hard to describe Lisa’s hair and sequin dress in a way that differentiates from the other female singer’s hair and sequin dress in this clip, so I’ll just say Lisa is on the left in the beginning and on the left again at the end.
As Lisa became a sought-after session vocalist and background singer – including joining the Rolling Stones on tour in 1989 – Luther pushed her to pursue a solo career, as singers like Patti Labelle, David Bowie, and Roberta Flack had pushed him. “He saw me in a way that I couldn’t see myself,” she once shared. “He made me feel like a diamond though I felt like a grain of sand.”
In 1991 Fischer landed a hit out of the gate with her first single “How Can I Ease the Pain,” a tormented ballad that showcased her full four octaves, including a whistle register to rival Mariah’s. This song makes me think I can sing.
“How Can I Ease the Pain” spent two weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot R&B/Hip Hop chart, propelling her album, So Intense, to Gold status. Lisa also won the 1992 Grammy for Best Female R&B Performance – with a catch. 1992 was the only year the win was tied; Lisa shared her award with Patti LaBelle for “Burnin’” – a song which featured Lisa as background personnel. I believe the Academy wasn’t trying to catch the wrath of the established divas by giving a newcomer the award in a category containing Patti, Aretha, and Gladys that year, especially when Patti didn’t have an award yet. It would have been a scandal! But it also proved that Lisa belonged with the powerhouses.
Next, it was time for Lisa to claim her spot in the diva ranks, right? Nope.
She never released a follow-up. “I felt like I just wasn’t ready,” Lisa shared revealed in an interview. Stress from the pressures of the business eventually manifested for Lisa as an eating disorder. “Not making the second album was disappointing at first, but then after that it was a sense of peace, because back then I couldn’t deal with the expectations that came with even that teeny bit of fame. There was so much to sort out that I hadn’t sorted out.”
As a background singer, Lisa could just be in the moment and sing, without worrying about content, messaging or image. It was easier than being the focus. She went back on tour with the Stones, and has been on almost every tour with them since. Hardcore Rolling Stones fans know Lisa almost as a member of the group, since she steps out during every show for her lead on “Gimme Shelter.”
Lisa also toured with Tina Turner, and still toured with Luther, even when dates with the Stones threatened to conflict, which when Luther taped his famous live concert at Royal Albert Hall. “I was touring with the Stones in Chicago, and then Luther had a private plane waiting for me to make it to London in time to do sound check, makeup and dress for the performance,” Lisa told a local publication when asked about a standout show memory. “I was so exhausted, but his music and teachings were so a part of everything I had become that doing the show was real and surreal all at the same time. His voice, his melodies, my fellow background singers (Kevin, Ava, Tawatha and Pat) and the choreography that I’d been doing for years was so joyous. … It was like a public family reunion.”
I know we’re talking about Lisa, but you have to watch this whole performance and soak in the genius of Luther’s vocal arrangements. First of all, only Luther would have first string and second string background singers. Lisa is a starter, of course. She’s on the far left. Second, this is a slightly gentler arrangement than the studio recording of “Here and Now”, but that little bit of softness/easiness makes it so much better.
Lisa was thrust even further into the forefront than she was during her solo run with 2013’s 20 Feet From Stardom, director Morgan Neville’s award-winning documentary about the lives and journeys of career background singers. The movie was the first time I’d seen a visual of Fischer in years, and I was surprised at the natural, kind of boho chic woman on screen, miles from the very glamorous and coiffed Fischer of the ‘90s. Then it clicked – that wasn’t really her. That was never her. That’s why it didn’t work.
Lisa did finally get comfortable enough to launch a solo tour, but she performs now in draped, flowing garments, often in bare feet, always with bare face and natural hair. Easy, relaxed, in a way she can focus on the music and not the package. But I think she’ll forgive me if I don’t readily let go of this. Yes, we already talked about “How Can I Ease the Pain,” but her live performance is a masterclass.
Phyllis Hyman
If I have to select one case study example to illustrate the damage and challenges an artist can face trying to mold themselves into a form that will lead to success, it’s Phyllis Hyman.
Phyllis was a naturally outstanding and immense vocal stylist. She had a four-octave range that blended jazz and soul, and a regal stature that demanded attention and notice (Hyman was 6ft tall with striking features), but a psyche that was torn apart through the course of her career. The music business destroyed her.
On paper, though, she had the elements to be a massive star, and she had a promising start. Her first label, Buddah Records, landed several modest hits for her including “You Know How to Love Me.”
Her 1976 collaboration with Norman Conners for “Betcha By Golly Wow” introduced that merge of jazz and soul which became her signature sound.
Her Tony-award winning turn in Duke Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady” positioned her to embark on an acting career.
But Phyllis would reach the brink of big success and lose it, sometimes by her own doing. Sometimes it was poor business decisions, like when she passed on the song “What’s Love Got to Do With It.” Sometimes it was bad luck, like when she recorded a theme song for the movie The Doorman, and then the movie was released straight to video. Or when she was tapped to sing the James Bond theme for 1983’s Never Say Never Again – a huge benchmark for any singer – then Warner Brothers reportedly nixed the song under threat of lawsuit.
Oftentimes, though, it was her own insecurity showing up. Phyllis was known to be combative; she fought with producers, with people who worked with her, and most famously with label head Clive Davis. She and Clive were in a battle of the wills from the beginning of Buddah’s absorption by Arista Records – something Clive, known for his magic with female singers, was unused to. Phyllis called him a plantation owner, would speak ill of him in the press, show up late for meetings and blow off commitments, but she was fighting him out of fear. “Control equaled comfort to Phyllis,” said biographer Jason Michael in his book Strength of a Woman: The Phyllis Hyman Story. “It was what she needed to feel safe…She did the same with (husband) Larry and, in the years to come, she would succeed in doing the same with not just her romantic interests, but also her close friends and staff members.” The tactic didn’t work with Davis, however, and contributed to her stalling during her years at Arista. Her strongest songs from the Arista period were recorded before the transition from Buddah, like “Somewhere in My Lifetime.”
Part of the problem was also that Clive, whose formula was to position his singers for pop success, didn’t understand the kind of artist Phyllis was. “Clive never had a feeling for black music,” A&R Gerry Griffith shared with Michael in Strength of a Woman. “He didn’t understand that black connection of jazz and R&B as it relates to black folk…he couldn’t make that connection. That’s why he had to have people around him that understood it; and most of the time, in the early days, he didn’t listen to us either.”
Philadelphia International’s Thom Bell wrote an album’s worth of songs for Phyllis’s second Arista release, but Clive scrapped some of them in favor of songs he felt would work for crossover, like the heavily-produced uptempo “Riding the Tiger,” and designated the pop/dance options as the album singles. It didn’t work. “The audience just couldn’t understand why she was recording a song like ‘Riding the Tiger,’” said her musical director Barry Eastmond. “It just didn’t fit her at all. It was an attempt at a dance hit, but you can’t fool the audience. They love you for a certain thing and they really want to hear that from you.”
Between the power struggle and the lack of hits, Phyllis soon found herself at the bottom of Clive’s priority list as he turned his attention toward a young new starlet, Whitney Houston.
Phyllis’s fight or flight instinct also cost her opportunities that could have changed her career. Phyllis was in the lead to play Shug Avery for the movie adaptation of The Color Purple. The casting directors loved her, but when she joined Whoopi Goldberg, Danny Glover and Oprah in a meeting with Steven Spielberg, she blew it. Her former co-manager Sydney Harris recounted the day to biographer Jason Michael, recalling Glover emerging from the meeting and telling her, “Your girl acted out. She was trying to run the audition. She was ordering Steven around.”
“That was Phyllis’s M.O.,” Harris explained. “When she got scared, she tried to take over things so she could regain control. She lost the part because they could not wrap their heads around being with Phyllis for five months in North Carolina while they shot the film.”
There was a cycle – Phyllis would get insecure and self-sabotage, then be resentful of her failure compared to the success of women she knew weren’t more talented than she was, and then lash out. But Phyllis was equally frustrated with failure and scared of success.
When finally released from Arista, she joined Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff’s Philadelphia International Records. It was an ideal situation for her: a smaller label where she could feel important and attended to, led by men who understood soul music. But even as she was working on her strongest material in years, she was brooding and inconsistent. “Living All Alone” co-writer Cynthia Biggs told biographer Jason Michael, “I remember her saying, ‘Here I am again, recording another album that’s not going to go gold.’ She just felt like ‘why do I keep trying?’”
She’d suffered from depression for years, and was finally diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, but she preferred self-medicating through drugs and alcohol to taking lithium, the most common treatment at the time. Living All Alone was well received, but Phyllis’s depression continued to deepen, slowing down the process of recording her follow-up, The Prime of My Life. During the time between the two projects, she was featured in Spike Lee’s School Daze and on the soundtrack.
Released in 1991, The Prime of My Life was Phyllis’s biggest career success. She finally charted on the Billboard Hot 100 with “Don’t Want to Change the World,” which was also her first career No. 1, and the album had additional R&B hit singles including “Living in Confusion.”
At Philadelphia International, Phyllis had started to become part of the writing process, contributing more and more with each subsequent album. She had just finished the most autobiographical work of her career when she took her life in 1995, days before her 45th birthday and hours before she was scheduled to perform at the Apollo.
Her emotional state was no secret to her inner circle, nor was her eventual suicide. “Phyllis was an advocate of suicide,” Glenda Garcia, her manager at the time of her death, told the Chicago Tribune. “I was not surprised or shocked that she took her life. It was her philosophy that she was in charge of her body because it was hers, and in charge of her life because it was hers. Her position was, if she didn’t like the pain, didn’t like her life, she had the right to get out of the pain.” The Tribune observed, “…never has an artist produced an entire album that reflects so hauntingly on her life and hints so broadly of her imminent demise as does Phyllis Hyman’s I Refuse to be Lonely.”
Hyman’s suicide note read, in part, “I’m tired.” The album felt like a more extended goodbye message. Songs like “Why Not Me,”“This Too Shall Pass,” and “Give Me One Good Reason to Stay” spoke of finality and resignation, disappointment and loss. Phyllis may have meant it to be her farewell. We can never know for sure, but Garcia wouldn’t rule it out. “Phyllis loved drama, so I wouldn’t put it past her,” she said in the same conversation with the Chicago Tribune. “Let’s face it, she was on her way to a show the night she died. She had a performance to do at the Apollo Theater. I don’t know that Phyl was so conniving she said ‘OK, I’m going to commit suicide so now I’ll get my Grammy and it’ll be multi-platinum,’ but I won’t say she didn’t intend to make a statement. She absolutely felt this record was her best. Clearly her timing was dramatic.”
Lisa, Vesta and Phyllis all had raw talent in spades, they even had beauty and glamour – but had to push themselves to sometimes unrealistic physical levels to stay marketable as artists. In the late ‘80s, singers like Jody Watley, Pebbles, Cherelle and Karyn White came into the game with model looks and voices that could easily work over heavier production, and that trend continued for solo artists into the ‘90s. There wasn’t another successful solo female vocalist of substantial voice and body until Kelly Price came along in 1998. It wasn’t just about fitting a “look,” though. There were other dynamic vocalists in this era – Stephanie Mills, Miki Howard, Angela Bofill – who were also eventually left behind as R&B moved out of the soft and warm quiet storm into the high energy new jack swing era. Their voices were too soulful to crossover, and artists without crossover potential weren’t attractive to labels; they wouldn’t sell as many records. In the ‘80s, a gold album was cool, but the ‘90s, platinum became the benchmark for success. While we’re waiting for the music industry to get it together and return to the R&B standards of the ‘90s, I’ll lift a prayer that there will one day additionally be room for sangin’ sangin’ on the charts again. For the Vestas, the Phyllises, the Shirleys (Brown or Murdock, take your pick), to sing their hearts out – and for the world to be able to hear.
You know that auntie who you were nervous to bring your young male friends around back in the day because she might proposition them in the kitchen when nobody was looking? Or the auntie liable to cuss out a family member or two after dinner for something that happened 12 years ago? The one that women in your family whispered about, warning not to leave men around alone? Who your mama didn’t want you to spend too much time with, but you were always excited to see because she was entertaining and was gonna slip you a little pocket change?
That auntie listened to Millie Jackson.
Millie Jackson is not just an R&B singer. She’s a Rhythm & Blues singer. She’s card party music. Your-parents-having-people-over-and-you’re-not-allowed-to-come-downstairs music. Working-class-Black-folks-hanging-out-down-at-the-VFW-after-a-long-week-with-some-well-liquor music.
She’s been called “the queen of raunchy soul” and “the Godmother of rap,” because of her signature, no-holds-barred lyrical content and her long “raps” – profanity-laced, sexually explicit stories and jokes – interwoven through her songs and live sets. Auntie Millie is part singer and part outrageous comedienne – but don’t take her as a joke. She’s a deceptively serious artist, with career highlights that went largely unnoticed because of the raunch.
In our continued celebration of bad-ass women in music for the month of March, we present 11 Essential Auntie Millie Facts.
1. Her Singing Career Was an Accident
One Thursday night, Millie Jackson was hanging with friends at the Psalms Café on 125th Street in Harlem. The restaurant hosted an open mic on Thursdays, and Millie was clowning a young woman for her terrible singing. Her friends bet her $5 to get up herself and sing, and she did it – even though she had no training as a singer. A club promoter in the audience offered her a gig the following week, someone saw her there and offered her more gigs, and that continued. She sung around New York and New Jersey for a couple of years while still working full time, and eventually landed a spot touring with Sam Cooke’s brother, LC. After one short-lived recording contract, she signed with funk and soul label Spring Records (co-founded by the father and uncle of Loud Records founder Steve Rifkind). She was so unsure her career would stick, she asked for a leave of absence from her job instead of quitting. It became an extremely extended leave.
Her trademark “rapping,” the long intros, interludes and dialogue breaks Millie masterfully blends into her songs and live sets, was also an accident. Millie had no formal vocal training, so she wasn’t a strong singer at the beginning of her career. When people in supper clubs and lounges would start talking to each other and turning their attention away from the performance, she started talking to them to keep them engaged. It became a key part of her artistry. Millie doesn’t just sing you a song, she tells you a story.
2. She Developed Her Raw and Raunchy Style Because of Gladys Knight
Millie and Gladys sound alike. It’s hard to hear in Jackson’s grittier songs; in those, she sounds more like Teddy Pendergrass’s voice and Tina Turner’s voice had a vocal baby. In her ballads, though, you can close your eyes and imagine Gladys. Or at least Gladys after some brown liquor. Comparisons started almost immediately in Millie’s career. It was potentially a problem– the label held back a single because they thought people would hear it and ask for a new Gladys album – so she began to separate herself from Knight with her raw sound and lyrical content.
Over time, that separation also included cursing. “Gladys started rappin’ on (“Help Me Make It Through the Night”) and I’m like ‘Ok, now she’s gonna rap? I guess I’ll just cuss,’” Millie once explained. “She’s too much of a lady to curse.”
Jackson leaned all the way into the explicit language and topics – the Washington Post called her “a veteran virtuoso of vulgarity” in 1986 – until those two factors nearly overshadowed not only her raw talent, but the fact that her songs were also technically fantastic, complete with incredible arrangements and expert live instrumentation provided by the Muscle Shoals Swampers, one of the best rhythm sections in music history.
3. She Flipped the Concept of the Concept Album
Caught Up is the concept album “Trapped in the Closet” wanted to be when it grew up.
While Curtis Mayfield and Marvin Gaye were creating cohesive bodies of work that reflected community, racial and environmental turmoil, Millie focused on what was happening in the home. Spring Records paired the singer with producer Brad Shapiro, whose credits include Wilson Pickett and James Brown, and he took her to the famed Muscle Shoals to record with the studio’s legendary session musicians, the Swampers.
Millie knew she wanted to make an album where “one song keeps going into the next song,” like a long story. Caught Up is a narrative about an affair, but from two perspectives: the first half of the album is from the mistresses point of view, the second half is the wife’s.
“We knew we were onto something (after “If Loving You Is Wrong”),” Jackson explained in an interview. “Then somebody in the studio asked ‘what now?’ And I said, ‘we finish the story. We’ve heard from the girlfriend, but what about the wife?’”
Concept albums were still new, and Spring Records didn’t know what to do with a project featuring nine-minute songs and no clear radio tracks. They brought in one of the most influential black radio DJs in New York, WBLS’s Frankie Crocker, and played it for him. He left the label with the only pressed copy of the LP so he could play “If Loving You Is Wrong I Don’t Want to be Right” immediately.
Jackson has admitted to being the other woman multiple times in her own life, but wanted the representation on the album to be “fair,” and include the wife’s experience. Her interpretation of the betrayed wife wasn’t a broken-down woman crying into a pillow, either. The songs cycled through a full range of emotions, from shock and anger to sadness, defeat, defiance and pettiness.
The label’s skepticism was unfounded; Caught Up reached No. 4 on the Billboard R&B album chart and No. 21 on the Pop chart. The success prompted a follow-up album, Still Caught Up, but the original is considered Jackson’s definitive work.
4. She Helped Turn Cheating Into an R&B Genre
Torrid affairs and adultery weren’t new topics in music, but they were relatively new to R&B. In the early ‘70s, songs about cheating – not about the aftermath, but basically celebrating cheating – were mostly found in juke joint blues and country western music, and were rarely from the woman’s perspective. “These were conversations that women had with each other on the laundromat. You didn’t hear them on records,” Millie explained in a recent interview about Caught Up. “You especially didn’t hear them on the radio.” Billy Paul, Luke Ingram, Johnny Taylor, and Millie – all singers who straddled the line between blues and soul – helped change that. By the mid-70s, adultery R&B was a full-blown subgenre, with songs like “Woman to Woman” and “From His Woman to You” (because “Woman to Woman” apparently required a reply), then later came “As We Lay,” “Secret Lovers,” and a long list of others. Songs about the wife calling the side, the side responding to the wife (the temerity!), the husband talking to the side, the wife proclaiming love to her side. It was a mess. But the songs were hits, so you might need to ask your parents and grandparents some honest questions about exactly what the hell was going on in the ‘70s and early ‘80s.
Millie’s unfiltered and uncensored take on cheating was the centerpiece of her career. “(Infidelity is) my whole repertoire,” she explained once when asked about crafting the stories for her songs. “Do you decide whether or not you want to talk about a certain part of an infidelity? Is it a man? Is it a woman? Is it both of them? Or do you want to go and start talking about what infidelity calls to life, or how it ruins a relationship, and not pertaining to anybody in particular. But, see, just like that you can write 25 songs on infidelity.”
5. Millie Was a Women’s Advocate
The primary topic of Millie’s music, after infidelity, was sex. Not making love. Sex. As in, “you got to handle this.” Like infidelity, sexual demands from the woman’s point of view was topical fare for dirty blues, not R&B.
Don’t start something you can’t finish Frustration ain’t no fun Half way lovin’ just don’t get it Stay there ‘til the job is done.
All The Way Lover
I would be remiss to not point out the breakdown in “All the Way Lover,” wherein Auntie Millie plants seeds that bore fruit for future generations, advocating for enthusiastic participation in oral sex, or what she called “parteè.”
We thank you for your service and advocacy, Millie.
With the songs hitting close to home about husbands cheating, wives kicking those husbands out, side chicks getting fed up, and calling men out to get focused in the bedroom, Millie believed she turned the male demographic off. “Men did not want my records in their house,” she claimed in an interview. “They wouldn’t come to see me live. Because I spoke truth to women, I got a reputation for being rough on men.”
But Miss Jackson would get at women sometimes, too. She took time, often, in her live show to address “saditty b**ches” who were being too lazy or too uptight to take care of business at home. This was also a form of advocacy, though, in the form of “Sis, stop bullsh*ttin.’”
Millie was a new kind of voice for women’s independence and agency. “Women loved it. I was speaking to them,” Jackson explained to her hometown Atlanta Magazine. But she was talking to women in a way some didn’t consider proper or respectable. She didn’t care. “I didn’t sell record to bougies. It was the poor people who bought my music. The women who bought Diana Ross did not buy Millie Jackson. The people in the projects understood me. I was down and dirty. I told you like it was.”
She once compared men to bad credit, which I’m laughing about even as I type this because it’s so genius and perfect that I can’t even. It’s an analogy all women understand too well – and we also understand the plot twist on the end when she gives it up anyway (Kanye shrug). She kept it real.
6. Low Key, She’s a Hip-Hop OG
Millie had already established a reputation for her “rapping,” which in the ‘70s meant long dialogue during song breaks, a style made popular in soul music with Isaac Hayes. Millie expanded the technique, telling full narratives that connected her songs. After “Rapper’s Delight” became a hit, her label wanted her to give the new style of rap a shot. In 1980, she recorded a track called “I Had to Say It” that she meant as a spoof of “Rapper’s Delight,” but she was spitting bars on the low. The subject: black men who start dating white women once they’re successful. It would set the timeline on fire today.
She told Song Facts in a frank 2010 interview that the song’s inspiration came unexpectedly. “I was thinking of what the next album (was) gonna be, and I had run out of things to talk about,” she shared, “So we’re on the tour bus and I’m going through Jet Magazine, and I’m saying ‘Okay. There’s Arthur Ashe – with a white woman. There’s the guy that plays Shaft on TV with a white woman. Damn, there’s O.J. Simpson – with a white woman… Somebody needs to say this. Why don’t I say this? I have to say this.” And she said it with her signature IDGAF delivery and candor.
Now I got your attention again I wanna speak to you about white girls On the arms of our black men
I Had to Say It Again
Millie was just playing around, but Coca Cola explained to her, when they reached out for Sprite’s 1999 Obey Your Thirst campaign, that she technically held the distinction of being the first woman to cut a rap song. The campaign, “5 Deadly Women,” (A riff on “5 Deadly Venoms”) featured rappers Eve, Amil, Angie Martinez (remember when Angie was a rapper?), Mia X and Roxanne Shante.
Jackson makes a surprise appearance at the end of the series as The Master, and I applaud Sprite for doing their homework and including her. She was kind of an easter egg, because not many people in the spot’s target audience knew who she was on sight.
Her hipping and hopping on “I Had To Say It” aside, Millie’s been credited as the foremother of Salt-n-Pepa, Lil’ Kim, Foxy Brown, and all female rappers who didn’t take no sh*t from the boys and unabashedly harnessed the power of sexuality in their music. She’s also been heavily sampled in hip-hop for decades: J. Cole, Prodigy, EPMD, Too Short, Poor Righteous Teachers, 50 Cent, Memphis Bleek, Lil’ B, Boogie Down Productions, Young Jeezy, Trick Daddy, Blacksheep, Cam’ron, Geto Boys, Yo Gotti, and Fat Joe have all cut Millie a publishing check.
At least three rap acts have sampled/covered her “Phuck You Symphony” alone, which I understand because it’s perfect for hip-hop – just like she is.
7. Her Live Show is Off the Chain
Millie doesn’t just give you a stage with a spotlight and some crooning (and I say “doesn’t” because Auntie still performs). No ma’am, no sir. There’s a full band, including a tight ass horn section, background singers, the whole nine. Also, she doesn’t just sing, it’s part comedy act. She’s a cross between Richard Pryor and popular ‘90s comediane Adele Givens (I truly believe Adele studied Millie).
Millie Jackson’s Live and Outrageous album is essential listening. The show’s energy is palpable even through audio. At her peak, Jackson’s concerts were regularly sold-out. She served costumes, flair, choreography, dramatics, and powerful vocals. Even as her stage show scaled down in later years, Millie Jackson live was no less of an experience. She’s also known for audience participation – if you’re sitting in her line of sight you might become part of the show. Be ready.
8. She’s a Boss
Millie Jackson is absolutely not a contrived artist. Her image is all hers, her musical choices are hers, her career path is hers. There are no Svengali stories, no tales of the label pushing her in a direction she didn’t feel comfortable with. None of that. Millie did what she wanted. Her label did try, in the beginning, to change her sound. They sped her vocals up on records so her voice would be in a higher pitch than her deep, earthy alto. But after “Hurts So Good,” they let her fly.
Millie has been self-managed her entire career. Her one marriage, at the beginning of her success, lasted only eight months because her husband tried to control Jackson and her business. “He thought we were gonna be the next Ike and Tina Turner. He thought that he was gonna tell me what to do with my life, and I decided that was not gonna happen. Case closed.”
Millie has also always maintained a large degree of creative control. She co-wrote most her songs from the beginning, and starting with Caught Up, she also co-produced her albums. And she fought when her record label tried to minimize her contribution. “I went down to Muscle Shoals to show (Brad Shapiro) how I do what I do, and co-produced the album. And when the album came out, it said ‘Album concept by Millie Jackson,’ and I hit the ceiling,” she shared in an interview. “I stood up in the middle of the floor and cussed like a banshee. And finally (Spring Records co-head) Roy Rifkind said, ‘Can we please go to lunch? You gonna be the death of me yet.’ And (Spring Records co-head) Bill Spitowski said, ‘We’ll put it on your tombstone: Produced by Millie Jackson.’”
Self-management is a choice Millie realizes probably held her back from big deals and moves that would elevate her to a higher level of stardom, but it as one that allowed her to follow her career on her own terms. In the same interview just mentioned, she explained her unconventional decision. “I write a lot of songs, and I publish them, and I go to work when I feel like it. That’s why I never had a manager; I don’t need anyone to tell me when to go to work. I know if I want to work or not.” She’s also enjoyed a normalcy that her peers who reached higher heights of fame had to sacrifice. “I like being able to go shopping for myself. I go to the supermarket and nobody bothers me. I don’t have a bodyguard. I like that. I think I live a very decent life. I’m a long way from starving, and I’m still me.”
9. She Can Sing Anything
Jackson has half-joked often in her later interviews that people don’t pay attention to the more diverse aspects of her catalog.
“If you listen to Millie Jackson on the radio, you ain’t gonna hear nothing but ‘Back in Love By Monday,’ ‘Hurts So Good,’ and ‘If Loving You is Wrong.’ Like I haven’t made any more songs,” she once complained. “I’ve got thirtysomething albums, only got three songs to be played!” Well, a lot of her songs aren’t exactly radio-friendly, but she’s right. With the expansive discography she has (Millie kept recording until 2001), the cheating songs and the raunchy songs are most popular and well-known. Ironically, while critics bemoaned her resistance to growth over the years, she quietly released two country-inspired albums and a rock-inspired album, in addition to more weighted material. “I write a lot of meaningful songs, but nobody ever heard them,” she’s said. “Because in my case most people would rather only listen to infidelity.”
Her very first single, in fact, leaned more towards the social commentary that ‘important’ soul artists were embracing at the time.
Millie has always said she didn’t want to be a crossover artist, but she didn’t want to stay in an R&B lane sonically, either. Millie always wanted to explore rock and country. “Rock and roll is my spirit, really, but nobody cares,” she shared in a conversation about her lesser-known music. “Tina Turner came through and (everyone) forgot about that.” We’ll get to Millie and Tina in a minute.
Because of her willingness to explore a wide range of music, Jackson’s cover song game rivals that of Luther Vandross. Starting with Luther Ingram’s “If Loving You is Wrong, I Don’t Wanna Be Right,” Millie has put her stamp on hits from Prince, Toto, The Stylistics, even country artist Merle Haggerd. Jackson released her version of his hit “If We’re Not Back in Love on Monday” less than a year after its release, changing the title to “If You’re Not Back in Love by Monday,” and switching up the song from a story about a husband wanting to work it out with his wife, to a mistress encouraging a husband and his wife to try and reconcile.
10. She Intentionally Didn’t Seek Crossover Success
One of the reasons Millie is damn near an obscure artist given her long career and tremendous output is her is because she stayed in a blues and R&B pocket – on purpose. “I was never looking to become that crossover pop star,” she once explained. “Let white folks cross over to me.”
Critics searched for explanations over the years why such a talented singer with Muscle Shoals production wasn’t reaching the pop stardom soul singers like Gladys, Aretha and Tina had achieved, and they usually blamed her language and lyrical content. In 1977, the New York Times opined “…with just a bit more attention to hooks, she could have consistent hits. That wouldn’t constitute selling out, if she’s worried about that, and it would help convey the underlying seriousness of her art to a broader public.”
But Millie was happy to fly under the radar. It gave her more freedom. “When you had all the problems with profanity in the music, nobody mentioned me. The senator’s wife never knew I existed. So I didn’t have to go to Congress.” Jackson was talking about the 1985 congressional hearings spurred by the Parental Music Resource Center, an organization founded by Tipper Gore after she purchased Purple Rain for her daughter, and “Darling Nikki” made her clutch her pearls. Most remember the hearings for the eventual result of Parental Advisory warnings on albums just as rap was emerging, but pop artists were the initial target. Prince, Madonna, Frank Zappa, even the Mary Jane Girls were in the roundup. But not Jackson. “Nobody mentioned my name. Nobody knew I was doing it. I didn’t have to deal with any of that.”
She did enjoy some pop success with Caught Up, but her biggest potential moment for a breakthrough was a 1985 duet with Elton John. Pop/soul duets were in fashion, but though the single was a moderate success in the UK, it never broke in the US.
11. She Has (Possibly One-Sided) Beef with Tina Turner
The two contemporaries Jackson has most been compared to vocally are Gladys and Tina – for example, Elton John approached Jackson for “Act of War” after Tina declined. Millie adores Gladys and counts the fellow Georgian among her favorite vocalists, but there’s something about Tina that just doesn’t sit right with her. It’s unclear what the source of her dislike is, but I suspect it’s centered around Tina entering and dominating the rock/soul space as a solo artist just as Millie was plotting a move in that direction.
Jackson did finally record her rock-inspired album, titled Rock n’ Soul, in 1994. She told her audience at a Howard Theater show in 2012 she made the LP because “I wanted Tina Turner to know she wasn’t the only black bitch to sing rock’n’roll.”
But then, according to Millie, Tina jacked her single. “I recorded (John Waithe’s) ‘Missing You,’ and I was all excited about it, it was gonna be my next single. And the guys at Muscle Shoals said, ‘Boy you got the song out quick! I heard it at a truck stop.” And I’m trying to figure out how in the world did they hear my song when it won’t be out for two week. And of course, it was Tina Turner, and we had to pull the single and come back with a different one.”
That was in the ‘90s, but Millie was throwing subs at Tina in the ‘80s. Jackson’s 1988 album The Tide is Turning included a song called “You Knocked the Love (Right Outta My Heart).” Listeners will easily hear the Ike and Tina influence in the song, but the track, a song about a passionate love turning into domestic violence, was a shot. “I did that one messin’ with Tina,” Jackson admitted in 2010. “It was about Ike and Tina, and the proceeds for that are supposed to go to battered women. But I didn’t call any names.”
After Millie stopped recording in 2001, she didn’t retire. She spent 13 years hosting a drive time radio show, continued to tour (when she felt like it), and wrote and produced a stage play based on her album Young Man, Older Woman which toured successfully for four years.
Now she’s posted up at home in Atlanta, and a few years ago she was working on a reality show concept for her family (please, contents gods, let this happen while she still has the capacity to do it).
But Millie should be out here at these awards shows and tributes with her contemporaries. She should still be mixing it up with younger artists who emulate her energy without even realizing it (she loves Rihanna, by the way). Auntie Millie is deserving of far more recognition and praise than she’s received. Not just for her outrageous and explicit music and performances, but as a complete artist: as a writer, a producer, a businesswoman, a creative, a pioneer. Alladat. Just because she didn’t go the route of No. 1 hits and stadium tours doesn’t make her any less accomplished. Respect Millie Jackson’s gangster.
I put out an emergency call to choose a new feel good, throwback r&b anthem for 2023…and y’all answered!
THE MISSION
First it was “Candy Rain,” then “Poison,” and “If It Isn’t Love” and “Weak” both narrowly escaped severe injury. Now, “Can We Talk” has been worn out like a cozy but delicate vintage sweater not meant for frequent use.
It’s an amazing song – it’s melodic, it’s catchy, it makes you warm and fuzzy, Kenny Edmonds did the damn thing and Tevin’s voice is Tevin’s voice – but COME ON y’all. We ain’t play the song this much when it came out.
This is especially egregious because the 90s was arguably the richest decade of R&B music before or since. The period from 87-93 alone is a treasure trove of mid-tempo bops. So in the spirit of not completely ruining a song I loved on first run but am starting to grow tired of (even the bridge), I motioned that the Black collective discuss a change for 2023.
THE CRITERIA
Folk nominated songs that:
ARE WELL KNOWN: The song doesn’t have to be a hit, but it should be a classic. That B Side or album track that was a bop but nobody ever mentions or plays is probably not the move.
ARE MID-TEMPO: These can be love songs but they’re not ballads. Think about two step-ability. Also can it be easily played in the club without speeding it up so much it sounds like a Kanye production?
HAVE LYRICS AND HOOK THAT ARE EASY AND CATCHY: The litmus test is whether the song would make sense in a “We both in the club, high, singing off key…” reference.
HAVE A GREAT BRIDGE AND OR ADLIBS: It needs a moment for the crowd to get hype and the DJ to cut the track
EVEN IF THE SUBJECT MATTER IS SAD, FEELS GOOD: You know how “Before I Let Go” is a jam but about a pending break up? That.
WERE RELEASED AT SOME POINT BETWEEN 87 & 97: Preferably between 87 and 93, but we had a few late 90s suggestions
THE EXCEPTIONS
These songs were taken out of the running because they’re already dangerously close to overplay or due to past overplay:
New Edition “If It Isn’t Love” SWV “Weak” Dru Hill “Tell Me” (I see it coming already) Fantasia “When I See You” Jodeci “Come and Talk to Me” Remix Soul For Real “Candy Rain”
Tevin – I’m Ready Ralph Tresvant – Sensitivity Guy – “I Like” Keith Sweat & Jackie McGee – Make It Last Forever Hi Five – “Kissing Game (I Like the Way)” Troop – “Spread My Wings” Carl Thomas – “I Wish” Jodeci – “Forever My Lady” En Vogue – “Hold On” After 7 – “Ready or Not” After 7 – “Can’t Stop” Mint Condition – “U Send Me Swingin'” Mint Condition – “Pretty Brown Eyes” Tony Toni Tone – “Anniversary” Tony Toni Tone – “It Never Rains” Tony Toni Tone – “Whatever You Want” New Edition – “Not My Kind of Girl” Jade – “Don’t Walk Away” Zhane – “Sending My Love” Zhane – “Hey Mr. DJ” TLC – “Baby Baby Baby” Groove Theory – “Tell Me” Brandy – “I Wanna Be Down
THE 2023 THROWBACK R&B JAMS
And finally, the people’s choices* for 2023 retro R&B goodness. (*People could vote multiple times for multiple songs so this is not a net 100% vote)
THE PLAYLIST
Get Spotify and Apple Music Links for full playlist here.
Speaking of Chrih’mus music, I had the chance to chop it up with Tymaine Lee about what makes Black Christmas Music so special on the latest ep of the Into America Podcast.
Gather ‘round, get a drank, grab your loved ones and get cozy for our #MusicSermon Christmas Sing Along
This is a special sermon, as so much of Christmas music is standards. This isn’t about background, history and details. We’re just gonna fellowship and enjoy the vibes.
We have to kick it off with the essential and ultimate Christmas classic, regardless of genre or era or anything. If you know it, feel free to sing along….
And while we’re on timeless Christmas classics from smooth ass cool ass Black folks, hey, Eartha. (They weren’t ready for her, at all)
Like I mentioned, so much of Christmas music is covering standards, so we’re going to get into this thing with an “O Holy Night”-off, featuring all the aunties. Starting with ReRe and top session pianist for everybody and the Beatles, Billy Preston.
And of course It’s only appropriate to follow Aretha with Patti. High hair Patti, at that! With acapella vocals. I live.
Aunt Gladys got fly with it; added some praise. Did a little remix. Ya’ll be sleeping on Auntie Glat because she doesn’t engage in diva antics, but she is still in full voice. Rhat now, today.
Junior Auntie Yolanda put a little Urban Contemporary on it.
Now please clear way for Aunt Dionne and an entire orchestra to take the stage. And she’s doing the third verse. Dignified. Elegant. Thank you.
There are only two people I can follow Dionne with, and I don’t have a Cissy clip, so…
Let’s stay with Nippy for a while. Young Whit and “Do You Hear What I Hear”
Of course you think Whitney + Christmas and you automatically think about The Preacher’s Wife. I still don’t know where Lionel Richie’s behind popped up from for this clip.
Aretha went full Aretha when rendering “Joy to the World” for a Rockefeller Center tree lighting. All that was missing was her pocketbook.
What is criminal is that with all the Christmas soul classics Motown produced, painfully few performances can be found. BUT, the most important one is here. Find your part.
I have always loved loved loved The Supremes’ version of “My Favorite Things”, and Diana came through with it exactly the way I envisioned.
Staying with Motown for a minute, I haven’t been able to find any Jackson 5 Christmas performances, but I knew I had to include them in here somewhere.
If I have to chose a single Christmas album as my favorite, it’s a toss up between Vince Guaraldi and Stevie. Stevie got Christmas JAMS.
Buddy Miles wasn’t a Motown artist, but the California Raisins were very Temps/Pips-ish, so let’s put them here.
Ok, we did the “O Holy Night”-off with the women. Let’s tap your drunk uncles in for “Merry Christmas Baby”. Starting with your smooth uncle who be trying to holler at your friends, Lou Rawls.
Uncle Ray Ray…
And the OG, Charles Brown. Charles got a glass of brown just out of camera shot, a guarantee it. Everybody in that joint drunk… listen to ‘em.
I’m gonna ask that the Umoja choir please come forward to accompany Uncle Ray in this next selection. (Or kinda just stand there to get in position for the next number.)
And now if the #MusicSermon Holiday Mass choir will come forward. Let’s kick this up a little. Make sure you’re in your section.
While we’re in the contemporary soulful Christmas groove, might as well rock “Soul Holiday” The ‘90s gave us a real moment of adding some New Jack Swing-somethin’ on Christmas and Gospel songs.
And nobody did that ‘90s contemporary gospel sound like Bebe & Cece. You gotta wait for the beat drop on this one.
One of the only contemporary R&B Christmas originals I think can be considered a classic.
Ok, ok, here’s the actual video so Brian can get some love.
But back to this Very Special Christmas Episode of Fresh Prince Featuring Boyz II Men
I hate admitting this here there are so many Luther haters in the mix (I really don’t know what’s wrong with ya’ll), but as much as I love Luther, I don’t love all his Christmas songs
But I can’t not include him.
Ya’ll know I never, ever, ever acknowledge anything this recent, but them Braxton’s came properly with this, so I’m allowing for special entry.
I’m not leaving Mariah out. This is a bonafide Christmas classic.
Ok, family. We’re going to prepare to wrap this up. I know ya’ll have been waiting…
There’ll be a brief repast in the fellowship hall with pound cake and red punch, amen. But first, let’s all join for the benediction hymn. We started with a timeless classic, let’s go out the same way.
….ok, the REAL benediction hymn.
#MusicSermon fam I thank ya’ll and love y’all. I pray peace and love and strength and joy to you and yours, and comfort if this time is difficult. I hope this adds to your holiday.
To complete your holiday vibes, we have two playlists depending on what kind of vibe you want. There’s Soulful Ass Holiday in the vein of tonight’s thread.
And Jazzy Holiday, If you wanna get your Vince Guaraldi, Nancy Wilson, Ella, etc on.
…but I believe it’s a tribute to the prolific works of Steveland Morris, aka Stevie Wonder, and the wide range of music lovers he reaches.
Yes, this is chaotic. Yes, we already have enough strife with the #BlackMusicMonth Challenge. I considered holding this until July, but I promised it for #BlackMusicMonth since we skipped #MusicSermonMadness in March this year, we’re gonna go ahead and hash it out over the works of one our greatest living artists.
In late May, about 500 of y’all cast votes for your top 8 songs from each Stevie era (including songs written/produced for other artists); those votes determined seeding. Yes, some bops were left out of some eras, but we had to segment his work to even make this manageable. I The most important thing to remember is that whatever you’re mad about is NOT MY FAULT. 🙂
UPATE!!! (6/28)
I admittedly neglected the live bracket during the last week because of the #BlackMusicMonthChallenge (we should not have done both at the same time), so I reset the votes and timeline starting with the semi-finals so y’all can still participate AND have something to help wean you off of the challenge this weekend!
#MusicSermon celebrates Black music all year, but in June we put a little extra somethin’ on it.
Celebrate Your Favorite Black Music all Month
#MusicSermon’s version of Vacation Bible School is the annual #BlackMusicMonthChallenge. The community spends the month sharing our most beloved (and, during one disruptive day, least liked) music and the memories that music inspired.
Join in (or just follow along) via #MusicSermon’s IG or Naima’s Twitter. You can also download this year’s prompts plus the one from previous years below!
We Usually Celebrate Our Groundbreaking and Game-changing Black Artists in June. On the 40th Anniversary, I Turned Towards the People Who Created the Culture and Shaped the Business
I love #BlackMusicMonth for obvious reasons, as a music and culture lover, as a former Black Music executive and as music journalist. However, I’ve learned over the years that the foundations of the celebration are much deeper than what BMM has evolved to be today.
To commemorate the 40th Anniversary of Black Music Month in 2019, I wanted to highlight the initial mission and purpose.
The idea of a month-long celebration of Black music’s contributions to American culture wasn’t just about historic observation and celebration; it was about the business of Black music, which was growing at a rapid pace in the ’70s.
I wrote for Vibe about Philadelphia Soul architect Kenny Gamble and the consortium of Black music stakeholders operating as the Black Music Association, and their mission to bolster industry support and positioning of Black music, with the understanding that “Black Music is Green.”
Next, I implore you to make your way to Netflix — if you haven’t already — and watch the incredible Reggie Hudlin doc on behind the scenes move-maker and connector Clarence Avant. The Black Godfather isn’t just a documentary about an entertainment executive, it’s about the power of relationships.
#MusicSermon celebrates Black music all day, e’ry day (don’t forget to check out the #BlackMusicMonthMusicChallenge on Twitter and IG), but the stories behind the stories are key.
