rolling with the phatness

Color Me Badd is also consistently ignored within the conversations of great 90s boy bands, usually reserved for the juggernauts of the later years in the decade like Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC. But if you look at the period between Lou Pearlman’s Hunk Factory and the 1980s ascendance of New Kids on the Block and New Edition, you’ll see the long silhouettes of four guys in oversized, vibrant shoulder-padded blazers dancing joyfully as one.

I was extremely young when I became aware of CMB, which didn’t happen until a few years after their prime. My talent for knowing a good bop instantly was already fine tuned as a child. I have fond memories of dancing around to “I Wanna Sex You Up” alongside my best friend Kiley in her upstairs bedroom, away from the grownups in our lives who had given the song an R rating. Did we know what we were singing about? Absolutely not. Were we aware that the lyric “We can do it til we both wake up” didn’t make sense physiologically? Who cares? It was catchy!

It would be another two decades later (and some change) until I encountered the music video, and boy, does it not hold up in the sexy department. But because I am nothing but a humble public servant, I watched the video approximately 700,000 times and put together a list of the “sexiest” moments for you to relish and enjoy. Viewer discretion and a healthy pour of two buck chuck from Trader Joe’s is advised.

1. Videocassette Lady

The premise of the video is that there are a bunch of sexy ladies in power suits/club dresses who have infiltrated the offices of Color Me Badd, Inc., and they just can’t stop secretly filming and watching the boys do choreography via VHS. I haven’t seen Sex, Lies and Videotape, which came out in 1989, but my hunch is that it served as inspiration.

The video starts by showing us a woman on the phone with an anonymous caller. She says, “Yes, I will watch my videocassettes” which reads as oddly robotic (and I mean reads: We’re given captions instead of audio). Who is this woman? With whom is she speaking to? Do we think she’s talking to Bryan, the lead singer with the voice of an angel? Or maybe Sam Watterson, Kenny G’s doppelgänger? Why does she talk like a broken robot from Westworld? Oh my god, is this the 90s corporate version of Westworld? Also, videocassettes is one word, not two? This quick yet pivotal scene is full of mystery, and there’s nothing sexier than mystery!  

2. Candles & Incense in the Workplace: Sexy or Potential Death Trap?

The members of Color Me Badd know all about setting the mood. To them, candles and incense = sexy time. Ergo, candles and incense in the office = sexy time in the office.

One of the actual lyrics of the song further supports this belief: “Let me light a candle so we can make it better.” And we all know what “it” means!

Aside from the mood lighting, perhaps it’s the danger of corporate candles that really get CMB going. In my career, I’ve received multiple emails from HR sternly reminding the uneducated that candles could in fact burn the building down and possibly kill us all, making them a no-go. Do we think Color Me Badd, Inc. has an HR department? I’m going to say nah, unless it’s staffed by attractive ladies in not-so-sensible pumps.

In summary, fire hazards in the office? Sexy!

3. Anytime Sam Watters is On Screen

Let’s be real, Sam Watters (second tenor, song cowriter and Kenny G twin from earlier) is the real MVP of this video. He is sexual napalm personified.

Exhibit A: He dances so hard, he probably caused the very Earth to crack after this move:

Exhibit B: He invented a meet cute situation where a man tries to stand on top of his briefcase in an elevator for no reason, and then falls into the arms of a sexy lady. Works every time.

Even sexier is what Sam Watters went on to do post-CMB, which is writing and producing songs for a few names you may know: Leona Lewis, Kelly Clarkson, and fairy godmother to us all, Whitney Houston. Although I’m taking a few shots at him, he’s living his best life out here and that is definitely sexy.

To avoid overheating the internet with all this erotic energy, I’ll stop here. It’s always interesting to look back at what was once considered controversial in music, which in most cases, has the bite of a beanie baby compared to what’s permissible in now. Mature themes, specifically those pertaining to sex, have evolved drastically and I’m looking forward to further exploring this topic here.

Color Me Badd is on tour this summer (though not with the full stack of guys) because the 90s are alive and well! If you go, report back and remember to stay hydrated - getting sexed up takes a lot out of you.  

Recorded at the tender age of 16, the track details a young man’s one-sided conversation with a young lady after he sees her out one night, but fails to approach her. Dismayed by his wussery, he promises that next time (next time!) he sees her, he’s going to Rico Suave her until she’s putty in his hands. It’s adorable. In a time where a good portion of R&B was focused on sweet, sweet lurvemakin’ and other adult activities, it’s really cool to hear a teenager sing an age-appropriate song about being too scared to talk to a cute girl (or “roni,” a word he uses to describe the lady in question, a term I’ve never heard in any other context and am generally unsure about). If someone can confirm that this was a thing, please let me know.

Kenny Edmonds, better known as Babyface, legendary producer, musician and smooth muhfuka, produced “Can We Talk” and his mark is all over it - from the keyboard intro to the percussion to the layered background vocals. It’s no coincidence that all my favorite Tevin Campbell songs are credited to him (see “Always In My Heart” and “I’m Ready” to continue your education).

The song was released as the first single from Tevin’s album, I’m Ready, in 1993, but I didn’t hear it until a few years later, when I was a shy lass who was really, really into the MTV Party to Go! compilations. On Volume 6 of that series, “Can We Talk” was wedged in between Crystal Waters’ “100% Pure Love” and R. Kelly’s “Your Body’s Callin’.” It would be another couple years before I could truly relate to any song about romantic relationships, since at 10 years old, boys were seen as huge and yet unavoidable inconveniences and nothing more. Despite this, and the large age gap between myself and Tevin Campbell, I still had the odd sense that we could have been peers, and the innocence expressed was something I responded to, something I could partially understand (the exact opposite of the R. Kelly track).

1. Shanice was in a KFC commercial with Ella Fitzgerald as a kid. 

Shanice Wilson-Knox did a lot of work as a kid actor, and one of her first big gigs involved scattin’ her tiny little heart out alongside legendary queen Ella Fitzgerald in a KFC commercial from 1980. It’s real weird, as you can see above. Shanice has said that she had no idea at the time that she was squee duh bap bee doo wee boppin’ with an icon, but I bet she got educated real fast after the fact. 

2. Branford Marsalis plays the dope saxophone solo.

“Blow, Branford, blow!" That’s how Shanice introduces the sax solo of the song, following her very questionable rap verse (#sorrynotsorry). 

If you weren’t aware, Branford Marsalis is a straight-up baller in the jazz world, and also the brother of fellow OG Wynton Marsalis. Among many accomplishments, he’s played his saxophone alongside Sting, Dave Matthews and members of the Grateful Dead, was featured on Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power”, and most importantly, had a cameo on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. I’m not sure how he connected with Shanice during this time period, but he adds another level to the arrangement, and I like that she goes out of her way to give him a shout-out. 

3. Shanice has Mariah-like vocal chops.

Today, in Things I Learned: Did you know that there’s a vocal range called coloratura soprano, which I think basically means “superhumanly high”? This is how you describe Shanice’s voice. She can also sing in a whistle register, which she shows off in her cover of Minnie Riperton’s, “Loving You.” We are not worthy.

4. She shared the same vocal coach as MJ.

Shanice shares a few ties to the Jackson family, including the King of Pop. John McClain, the current executor of Michael Jackson’s estate, was the one who discovered her and also signed her to her first record deal. At age 14, she got a call that led to a limo picking her up and dropping her off on the set of Michael’s video for “Moonwalker.” The two sat in MJ’s trailer and talked about Bubbles, his pet chimpanzee (because who WOULDN’T?) and also how they shared the same vocal coach, Seth Riggs. 

After his passing, Shanice was asked to lend her vocals to a few tracks on his posthumous album, Michael. But the Jackson connections don’t stop there!

5. The laughter you hear at the end of the song is none other than Janet, as in Jackson, as in “If You’re Nasty.” 

For a 4ever Janet stan like me, finding out this particular factoid was pretty much a highlight of 2016. At the end of “I Love Your Smile,” you can hear a couple of gigglehouses yukking it up, and those laughs belong to none other than Janet and her then husband, Rene Elizondo Jr. I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS. Mainly - why? If anyone has more information on how this came to be, please let me know. 

6. Prince once told Shanice to “stay independent.”

As the story goes, her and her husband Flex Anderson were attending Essence Music Festival one year when they saw The Purple One emanating light and wonderment backstage. They got up the courage to sit next to him and conversation ensued. This is when P dropped two words of advice on the couple: “Stay independent.” Which is why in 2005, Shanice started her own label and released her music her own way, fully crediting Prince’s advice as a source of motivation. 

7. The song is Grammy nominated.

In 1993, “I Love Your Smile” was nominated for Best Female R&B Vocal Performance alongside heavy hitters Oleta Adams, Chaka Khan, Vanessa Williams, and Whitney Freakin’ Houston. Chaka Khan ended up taking it for “The Woman I Am.”

8. Shanice used The Gulf War as inspiration for the lyrics. 

That’s right - you can blame the song’s cheery lyrics on world conflict. In this 1992 interview with People magazine, Shanice, who was a co-writer on the song, said, “When I was making the album, the Gulf War was going on, and everyone was depressed about it. So I said, ‘Why don’t I write a song that will make people happy?’ This was not the explanation I expected behind lyrics like, “I’m going to put that new black mini on my charge anyway,” but wonders never cease. 

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You know why I love writing this blog? Because every song I research always teaches me something new. I’m also grateful that I’ve now been introduced to Shanice’s other works, like her 1999 self-titled album and the jam known as “Yesterday” (her live duet with Justin Timberlake is pretty great). 

Let me leave you with the live and unplugged version of “I Love Your Smile,” a great example of those pipes, those 90′s dance moves (kick! kick! elbow! kick again!) and of course, that smile. 

Coko and Lelee grew up together in the Bronx, sharing the same godmother. After recruiting Brooklynite Taj to join their newly found girl group, the ladies got their demo tape together and sent it out to record execs along with a bottle of Perrier (they couldn’t afford champagne). In 1991, they signed an eight-album record deal with RCA.

(image via) 

In what I find to be a really odd twist, the girls started out by calling themselves TLC – for Tamara, Leanne and Cheryl. It wasn’t long before the legal team at Epic Records came knocking, and sent them a cease-and-desist letter stating that they already had a group called TLC (you knew that was coming). Regardless, it seems like we were always destined to be blessed with a girl group called TLC, in some form or fashion.

RCA President Kenny Ortiz hooked the group up with producer/songwriter Brian Alexander Morgan, who was in awe of lead singer Coko’s voice (who wouldn’t be?). She did not reciprocate the warm feelings. After balking at the song “Weak” during her first listen, Coko eventually warmed up to Morgan when she heard “I’m So Into You.” Their debut album, It’s About Time, was released on October 27, 1992 and the rest is history.

One thing you can’t argue – these girls have hits on hits on hits. So why did I choose to focus on “I’m So Into You”? Because it’s happy, dammit, and after the month I’ve had personally and the hard times we face as a country, I needed some joy in the form of a perky R&B song from my youth.

Released as the second single from It’s About Time, the song fell flat out the gate. It wasn’t until Seattle (of all places) began spinning it that things shifted. Soon, the song spread to radio stations across the country and it eventually reached Number Six on the Hot 100 Chart and Number Two on the R&B Chart.

This song is basically a time traveling machine, taking you right back to when you were writing your crush’s name on a beat up Trapper Keeper in school. The lyrics are dead simple and right to the point, and that only contributes to the innocence portrayed. 

“You are so fine

You blow my mind

With the things you do to me”

However, that innocence is juxtaposed by the fact that Coko is really singing about fooling around with somebody else’s guy (and quite brazenly doing so at that). I remember wrestling with this as a young, pure-as-the-driven-snow child. How can a happy pop/R&B song be about love while also bragging about being the other woman? 

“Friends ask how could

I give myself to one who belongs to someone else

They just don't know

Your love's so good

That they would want it for themselves”

Or as one YouTube commenter put it:

I find it very impressive to this day how much Coko’s voice shines through here. On up tempo songs, it’s very difficult for even the most skilled of singers to really show their power and range, but Coko competes with the production and background just fine. Her fellow group members also stand strong, and the three of them harmonizing at the break gives me chills, especially when the music fades out and they sing, “Oooh, what am I supposed to do?” I would listen to a looped track of that one lyric all day long.  

Lastly, there are multiple samples used on this track, but the standouts include Rufus and Chaka Khan’s “Sweet Thing” during the vocals and lyrics (“You're the heat, you are the fire, you're not mine, I can't deny ya”) and the hook’s guitar riff originally found in Betty Wright’s, “Clean Up Woman.” It delights me that both songs happen to be about adulterous relationships..

Let’s switch gears briefly to talk about this music video. It’s made up of three very important components:

1. Live concert footage

2. Lots of sensually walking down flights of stairs 

3. And most important of all: Fencing  

That’s right, fencing. The questionable use of sport activities can be seen again in their video for “Weak,” where the plot revolves around boxing. Why? We may never know. I choose to focus instead on the fashion moments, including the hairstyles (are those Bump-Its?) and their incredible manicures. 

“I’m So Into You” ended up selling over 600,000 copies and was certified Gold by the RIAA. It’s About Time peaked at Number 8 on the US Billboard 200. Though SWV experienced incredible success, they never quite recreated it with their follow-up albums. In 1998, they disbanded, and there wasn’t a lot of hope on the horizon for a reunion until 2005 when Japanese demand for the group put a comeback into motion. Now, in 2016, 24 years later, SWV is still out here releasing records, and sounding every bit as good as they once did.

Aside from their influence on all your current faves, VH1 has listed SWV as Number 88 on their 100 Greatest: Women in Music list. 

(image via) 

So give It’s About Time a spin when you can, sing out loud about being a sidepiece, and I’ll see you on the Fencing Field or whatever.

Related Tracks: 

“Weak”

“Anything” 

“You’re the One”

“Right Here (Human Nature Remix)” 

I was introduced to Tribe by way of Q-Tip’s 1999 solo single, “Vivrant Thing.” As a boy crazy teenager, I took one look at that man and instantly caught feelings. I even made my AOL screen name something like “VivrantThing1234″ for a period of time. 

Swoon.

It was only a matter of time before I discovered A Tribe Called Quest, learning how to properly respond to the question “Can I kick it?” while dreaming of changing my name to Bonita Applebum. Years later, Tribe’s influence and position in the hip hop community is pretty incredible. Nas called them The Beatles of hip-hop. Urban Dictionary defines them as “the greatest hip hop group to ever walk this Earth,” which is probably the nicest thing I’ve ever read on that website. For me, I always liked that there was a thoughtfulness behind their music. Not just the lyrics, which were clearly intelligent and deliberate, but the samples they chose as well (more on that in a second). Additionally, the relationship between childhood friends Phife Dawg and Q-Tip was so palpable, genuine and refreshing in a time where hip hop was aggressive and confrontational, where the spotlight never lingered too long on a positive relationship between male friends. 

“Check the Rhime” is one of my favorite Tribe tracks because of that very chemistry. The way Phife and Q-Tip easily trade bars while encouraging each other to “grab the microphone and let your words rip” is really beautiful, and their different personalities and flows compliment each other. 

“Q-Tip was the artistic, esoteric, philosophical M.C. while Phife Dawg was the streetwise, confident yet humble rapper with a little Trinidadian ‘ruffneck” swag.” (via)

I enjoy Phife taking the opportunity in “Check the Rhime” to show off who he is, especially in this verse which has been on my mind a lot as of late:

You see, my aura's positive I don't promote no junk See, I'm far from a bully and I ain't a punk Extremity in rhythm, yeah that's what you heard So just clean out your ears and just check the word

The song also features what’s become one of my favorite samples to find buried in hip hop classics, and that’s Minnie Riperton’s “Baby, This Love I Have.” Her voice is too good - it physically hurts me. Plus the beats were basically made for hip-hop and R&B, and they stand out again in Soul 4 Real’s feel-good bop, “Candy Rain.”

It’s crazy to think that we’re going to have a new Tribe album this week, the first in 18 years. I’m interested to see how Q-Tip and third member Jarobi White will deal with Phife’s passing on the record, even though the album apparently finished right before his death. Knowing their history, I’m expecting a bold body of work, unafraid of dealing with what’s real and what’s true in the present while displaying a level of lyrical dexterity that will influence a whole new generation of artists.

Rest in beats, Phife. 

Related Tracks: 

- “Can I Kick It?”

- “Bonita Applebum”

Full disclosure: I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I’ve been a forever member of the Wu fanbase. This is a very recent development. When I was growing up, I was aware of Method Man, mostly through that song he did with Fred Durst (NEVER FORGET). I knew who ODB was because of that time he Kanye’d (in a pre-Kanye era) Shawn Colvin’s acceptance speech at the Grammy’s (and of course “Shimmy Shimmy Ya”). But that’s where my Wu Knowledge dried up. 

I know, I know. Hip hop heads be reading this post like:

In the spirit of truthiness, "Bring Da Ruckus” was introduced to me in Episode 3 of the new Netflix and Marvel show, Luke Cage. In what might be one of the best music/scene pairings I’ve seen this year, the song perfectly compliments the can of whoop ass Luke Cage unleashes upon a contingent of gangsters. As one YouTube commenter put it, “You know shit got real when a Wu-Tang song is playing in the background.”

After seeing this scene, I feel down the Wu Rabbit Hole (Wabbit Hole?) and become mildly obsessed. Here are just a few reasons why this song is the perfect pre-game for any challenge, presentation or not:  

1. The thought process behind it. RZA, the group’s leader and main producer, said the following of the creative process behind “Bring Da Ruckus”: “I was thinking about having everybody in the whole club or in the neighborhood go crazy. But at the same time, I was calling out all challengers.” So, if I understand this correctly, it’s a song for a) Partying your face off or b) Fighting haters. YOU GUYS. I couldn’t have made up a better explanation. 

2. The intro.

“Do you think your Wu-Tang sword can defeat me? 

En garde, I’ll let you try my Wu-Tang style.”

As many fans know, Wu-Tang was born out of the group’s fascination with martial arts movies. The fact that they built their entire brand around the culture is incredible. “Bring Da Ruckus” starts with a sample from a movie called Shaolin and Wu-Tang, a film that had a major influence over the album Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). I’ve listened to this song so many times now that I love speaking this part out loud – I like the cockiness and swagger that comes with asking your opponent, “Do you really think you can beat me? TRY IT, SUCKA.” (I’m paraphrasing just a bit). 

3. This verse. 

“Ghostface catch the blast of a hype verse,

My glock burst, leave in a hearse, I did worse.”

These lyrics come early and real fast. RZA later said, “...this is one of the most famous darts in Wu-Tang history, from the first swordsman you meet on the album.” It’s an amazingly effective part, and you know they wanted to emphasize it since the background music almost drops out completely so the listener is forced to focus on the lyrics. 

4. The outro. 

The introduction of the horns here is reminiscent of a scene change in a martial arts film, or a part of the score that would pair with the defeat of an enemy. I also think it’s interesting that the Clan starts repeating “So bring it on!” at the end of the song. I feel like the song is symbolic of one long fight, so even though you’re exhausted, you still have RZA, Raekwon, Method Man and the rest of the group egging you on, demanding that you keep going. 

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Sweat’s self-titled album, Keith Sweat, was released in 1996 and was a monster. Out of multiple hits, “Twisted” was the biggest, peaking at #2 on Billboard’s Hot 100. Who sat at #1, you ask? A little song called “Macarena.” IMO, this song embodies everything classic 90s R&B is all about: 

- Lyrics about a love gone wrong

- Harmonized female vocals to carry the chorus

- Sweet, sweet synthesized keyboard notes 

- Last but not least, a little known MC to carry it all home at the bridge (no shade because I actually really like Pretty Russ’ rap verse here)

What’s not to love? And that’s before even beginning to talk about the beautiful mess that is the music video, which ended up looking like if Oliver Stone were asked to direct an R&B video/Rush Hour remake in the 90s with little to no budget. It’s overblown with plot holes that are more like plot craters, but you can’t look away. 

In summary, Sweat plays a super cool homicide detective who arrests a hot babe who’s also really into murdering famous Asian dignitaries. Huh?, you ask? Totally. It all ends with them getting in some sexy time (duh) before she gets shot by police, dying in this gravity-defying pose on a ladder that makes you question your YouTube choices. 

Uproxx provides a much better, much more in-depth analysis of this mini-saga than I ever could, so you just definitely go over there to read it. One thing I cannot get over is all the bouncing and jubilant dancing going on with Kut Klose and Sweat himself during all the in-between shots (and as Uproxx points out, dancing that does not require Sweat to ever move his feet). Isn’t this song supposed to be about a crazy woman and how you’re bummed she played you? 

Maybe I’m just not “clued in” enough to get to overall messages Keith Sweat was trying to communicate, and that’s okay. I loved this song and video as a kid (even though my fragile soul was a bit freaked out by all the death and stuff), and I love it now. Which Keith Sweat song sticks out most in your mind? 

Related Tracks: 

- “I Want Her” 

- “Nobody”