The story of the Family is one of missed opportunites boiled down to its most basic - Good Decisions vs. Bad Decisions. Let's start at the beginning - after Morris Day left The Time in 1984, Prince tapped "St. Paul" Peterson as his replacement, causing guitarist Jesse Johnson to hit the road as well. Left with a drummer, a bass player and a valet ("Now, now, Jerome!"), Prince had Revolution guitarist Wendy's sister, Susannah Melvoin join the band, and rounded out the strange quintet with saxophonist Eric Leeds.
Good Decision #1: Changing the band's name from The Time to The Family. No one would have ever accepted St. Paul as a replacement for Morris Day. I mean, really.
Bad Decision #1: Trying to maintain some of the same funk The Time was famous for, most notably on songs like "Mutiny", making The Family come off as more of a dry run for Wa Wa Nee.
Good Decision #2: Creating a unique "Family" sound for their self-titled LP, drenched in strings and minor keys on songs like "River Run Dry" and the first single, "Screams of Passion" represented here in its 12" version.
Bad Decision #2: Picking "Screams of Passion" as the first single when you had, wait for it, the original version of "Nothing Compares 2 U" sitting there nice and all polite-like on Side Two. This even more melodramatic and provocative version could have been a major hit six years earlier than when Sinead O'Connor's take on it took it to the #1 position.
Bad Decision #3: Pulling the plug on the whole thing without recording a second album or playing more than one live date. The Family, for all its Prince-ness, was a fairly unique corner of the Paisley Park empire - it would have been interesting to see what a second album would have brought.
Maybe we'll get that chance, since The Family, all five members, have announced they're reuniting for a tour and new album. Is this a Good Decision or a Bad Decision? Time (heh) will tell. At least Jerome's involved! A Family reunion without Jerome would be like a Happy Mondays reunion without Bez.
And so ends Prince Proteges Month. Don't worry - there are tons more we can talk about in the future. I didn't even get to Jill Jones, Mazarati, Apollonia 6, Jesse Johnson's Revue, et al. Stick around. We have a few years to get to 'em.
"Screams of Passion" peaked at #63 on the Billboard Hot 100, #9 on the Hot R&B/Hip Hop Singles and #10 on the Hot Dance Music/Club Play charts in 1985.
I think the people at the late, much lamented BlairMag (linked above) summed up best what was so damn appealing about a trio of barely-talented girls in their underwear, dancing slightly out of time. While Vanity 6 (renamed from their original moniker The Hookers in a rare case of Princely restraint) were ostensibly built around Vanity aka Denise Matthews, it was white trash dynamo Brenda who stole the show, along with your wallet. And your heart!
Poor Susan didn't get much play, thanks to her razor-thin "singing" voice, which was basically her talking in a "sexy" whisper. Even in her one spotlight tune, "Drive Me Wild", watch Brenda in all her gum-snapping glory steal the show, literally from behind Susan's back:
Brenda, however, got the straight-ahead New Wave treatment for her lead vocal tune, "Bite the Beat". A real Flying Lizards meets The Nails "88 Lines About 44 Women" vibe permeates the song, showcasing Prince's obvious love for New Wave at the time. Bite the beat, indeed.
Meanwhile, all the coke must have gone to poor Denise/Vanity's head, because she split from the Paisley camp, turning down the female lead in Purple Rain, instead choosing to sign to Motown and star in The Last Dragon, which gave us this mess:
Oooh, Vanity must'a done bumped her head. Speaking of messes, Motown was able to give Vanity something that Prince couldn't, namely a single that actually charted, the not-subtle-at-all "Pretty Mess", a song that interestingly enough, never surfaced during all the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky brouhaha.
Brenda and Susan soldiered on with Vanity-Lite Apollonia, who, despite being purified in the waters of Lake Minnetonka, was a little short on the charisma meter. One album and gone. Now if BRENDA had gotten a solo album, we'd all be writing blog posts to this day dissecting her influence on an entire generation of bastard-bearing, Cheetos-eating, barefoot-bathroom-going-in-7-11s girls. Hey, Britney! Remake "Nasty Girl!" There's your comeback advice.
You're welcome. Can ya dig it? Click.
"Pretty Mess" peaked at #75 on the Billboard Hot 100 and at #13 on the Hot Dance Music/Club Play Chart in 1984. None of the other songs charted.
Vanity 6 or the Jill Jones 1987 CD are pretty much the Holy Grails of out-of-print Prince items. You can find Vanity 6 on Amazon, but you're gonna pay.
The post title says it all, doesn't it? Will your favorite purple protege be featured? Stick around all week and see.
Kicking things off is Miss Escovedo, who Prince discovered in 1983 playing in her father's latin-fusion band Azteca. The tiny terror promptly put Sheila to work, having her provide the guest vocals on his classic b-side "Erotic City" (not Vanity nor Apollonia, as is commonly mistaken). A short year later, Sheila had a contract with Warner Brothers and a Top Ten hit with her debut album's title track, "The Glamorous Life".
As catchy as "The Glamorous Life" was, I, naturally, was all about the follow-up, the New Wave-ish, synth-based "The Belle of St. Mark". The squiggly synth hook and balloon-popping snare accent were keepers, but the lyrics and even title of the song begged question. The Belle of St. Mark is a frail but passionate creature, and is referred to as "he" throughout. Then why the feminine "Belle"? And these classic lines never fail to crack me up:
His Paris hair, it blows in the warm Parisian air That blows whenever his Paris hair is there
That's just gold, people. I suppose we could blame Prince, but Sheila E. has sole writing credit on that one, so...
Prince did, however, share writing credit on the first single from Sheila's follow-up LP, Romance 1600. "Sister Fate" is quite reminiscent of "The Glamorous Life", just enough to be a hit, but different enough to still be enjoyable. Alas, it was not meant to be, as "Sister Fate" died immediately upon release, putting a pall over Romance 1600 right out of the gate. What turned off Top 40 radio to this tune? Was it the ahead of its time latin percussion or perhaps it was the haughty, faux-Brit spoken word section where Sheila intones:
There's a nasty ruMAH That's going-guh rrrrrround...
...before ending it in a bizarre, out-of-left-field cartoon voice. What's that all about?
Speaking of bizarre, the album was saved by its second single, "A Love Bizarre", which was mostly a Prince featuring Sheila E. recording. Being prominently featured in the movie Krush Groove didn't hurt its chances, either. And no Sheila E. post would be complete without including the incredibly awesome and cringe-tastic "Holly Rock", made famous by Sheila in Krush Groove:
"The Belle of St. Mark" peaked at #34 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #68 on the Hot R&B/Hip Hop Singles Charts in 1984. "Sister Fate" peaked at #102 on the Billboard Bubbling Under, #36 on the Hot R&B/Hip Hop Singles and at #26 on the Hot Dance/Maxi-Singles Sales Charts in 1985.
"it's raining / my sisters why can't we realize / that it won't be long?"
“Contentious” is probably the word I’m looking for to describe the recording of the third (and at the time – har har – final) album from The Time. While “Ice Cream Castle” (the album is strangely singular while the single, “Ice Cream Castles” is plural – hey, it’s Prince, let him explain) talks of peace and harmony, the atmosphere surrounding its making was anything but.
Just before recording the album, Prince informed Time members Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis their services were no longer needed. Monte Moir exited in solidarity. New members were propped up, which really meant nothing except in a live setting, since Prince did everything, with some help from guitarist Jesse Johnson and, of course, the inimitable Morris Day. Day was extremely unhappy with the controlling structure of the “band”, not to mention his payday, or lack thereof. The Time was – I’m gonna say it, I’m warning you – running out.
Ignore the credits on the sleeve – Prince, in his “Jamie Starr” mode wrote and played most everything, with the exception of some guitar, vocals (Morris, of course) and lyrics. That control was chafing other band members, so the end was inevitable. Of course, not before The Time had the two biggest singles of their career off this set, “Jungle Love” and “The Bird”. “Jungle Love”, however, was NOT the first single…
That honor went to the title track, “Ice Cream Castles (full version)”, an almost mellow, popish workout with a nice, sweet message that touched on interracial love. The album version tops out after over seven and a half minutes, but it doesn’t feel like it. A radio edit was ignored by Top 40 radio, but then “Purple Rain” hit theaters. Must I continue?
By the time The Time were crossover stars, it was over. Morris and Jesse had a few solo hits, the rest of the remaining band morphed into The Family (where is this CD, Warner Bros? And Vanity 6? C’mon.), and Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis went on to become fabulously wealthy by producing/ruining the Human League and re-inventing Janet Jackson.
“Ice Cream Castles” was where this gangly white boy first heard of The Time, via a smooth video that MTV embraced for a brief time. I bought the album, loved the three singles and laughed at the amount of filler that padded the rest. But it was a nice gateway drug into the rest of Prince’s world, which I entered into freely. I’m sure I was the only 15 year old boy on my block singing “Do you think I’m a nasty girl?” and “If I was your girlfriend…”
Thank God.
”Ice Cream Castles” peaked at #11 on the Billboard R&B Singles Chart.
* All songs are for sampling purposes only. If the album is currently in print, you'll see an Amazon link to purchase it. Supporting artists is a good thing, since labels are run by soulless whores. I KEED! Sorta. Look, if you like it, and it's in print, support 'em. If you're the artist or copyright holder, a quick e-mail to me will bring the song down ASAP. But compliment my writing first.
* Don't e-mail me asking me to repost dead links or to send you a song you can't find. Believe it or not, I have a life outside my blogging. I KEED! But don't do it.
* One more, and this is a biggie -- do NOT hotlink directly to my audio files and post them on your site, big shot. That's just disrespectful, rude, and a theft of my hard-earned bandwith.
Now, get readin', get downloadiN', and play nice. I loves me some comments. Bring it!
Good Decision #2: Creating a unique "Family" sound for their self-titled LP, drenched in strings and minor keys on songs like "River Run Dry" and the first single, "Screams of Passion" represented here in its 12" version.
I think the people at the late, much lamented BlairMag (linked above) summed up best what was so damn appealing about a trio of barely-talented girls in their underwear, dancing slightly out of time. While Vanity 6 (renamed from their original moniker The Hookers in a rare case of Princely restraint) were ostensibly built around Vanity aka Denise Matthews, it was white trash dynamo Brenda who stole the show, along with your wallet. And your heart!
, but you're gonna pay.
As catchy as "The Glamorous Life" was, I, naturally, was all about the follow-up, the New Wave-ish, synth-based "The Belle of St. Mark". The squiggly synth hook and balloon-popping snare accent were keepers, but the lyrics and even title of the song begged question. The Belle of St. Mark is a frail but passionate creature, and is referred to as "he" throughout. Then why the feminine "Belle"? And these classic lines never fail to crack me up:
Prince did, however, share writing credit on the first single from Sheila's follow-up LP, Romance 1600. "Sister Fate" is quite reminiscent of "The Glamorous Life", just enough to be a hit, but different enough to still be enjoyable. Alas, it was not meant to be, as "Sister Fate" died immediately upon release, putting a pall over Romance 1600 right out of the gate. What turned off Top 40 radio to this tune? Was it the ahead of its time latin percussion or perhaps it was the haughty, faux-Brit spoken word section where Sheila intones:
