definitivejanetjackson

It’s time for a reboot of this blog. I intend on picking up where I left off, commenting on Janet’s catalog of music, along with current developments.

By way of preview, before I forsook this blog, I was going through Janet’s songs chronologically and had made it to the first track on Dream Street, the lively family affair “Don’t Stand Another Chance.” So I will be moving on to Track Two, just like five years hadn’t passed.

I will also be taking a look back at the major Janet developments of those five years I took off, from the suspension of the Unbreakable tour to the re-launch as the State of the World tour, to the Vegas residency, to the RRHOF induction.

We also have some current business to attend to, including the November 19 documentary on the Super Bowl kerfuffle, Janet’s own documentary in January, and possible new music rumors.

I’m excited to get back to this project. I’m giving me back, and this time, I am gonna stay.

This is a link to my other blog, where I discuss “Rhythm Nation” becoming the new national anthem… seriously.

On a recent edition of Popcast, a podcast I’m newly familiar with, moderated by the New York Times’s Jon Caramanica, the topic of discussion was the legacy of Control on its 30^th anniversary, and Janet Jackson’s legacy in general. Jon discussed the impact with the Times’s critic at large, Wesley Morris.

There’s some obvious wow factor when Janet is being discussed earnestly by top voices in the field of music criticism. It is certainly gratifying to see critics, who were notoriously dismissive of Janet while she was at her commercial peak, give her some semblance of dues. In addition, the discussion was lively and eye-opening in some respects. Unfortunately, as a lifelong Janet fan, I can also see some of the holes in their understanding of her artistic growth and influence. When you’re in the business of knowing ALL music, it’s understandable that you might not get everything about one artist’s music.

It’s not my intent to nitpick every factoid they flubbed—though mixing up the sequence of Janet’s first two albums is a fairly large error when the focus of discussion was the beginning of her career. What I do want to do is set the record straight (from my perspective, of course) about some of the high-level conclusions and assumptions, in addition to commending them on some bulls-eye comments. I highly recommend listening to the podcast in conjunction with the points below, but I intend to include enough background that as a reader you can understand the basic points they were making.

• Let’s start positive. The Janet-Jam-Lewis parallel to Aaliyah-Missy-Timbaland is brilliant and correct. Aaliyah was very much the same kind of artist as Janet, and Missy and Timbaland were often as fearless as Jam & Lewis in pushing the creative envelope.
• However, this idea that Janet operated in a vacuum with no discernible musical influence until Aaliyah popped up in the mid-90s, then vanished again until Britney and Christina somehow made her “obsolete” in the ‘00s, is erroneous. To make this point, that Janet was such a musical oddity in 1986 in the land of gospel-influenced divas like Whitney and Patti, is to ignore the concurrent pop success of Belinda Carlisle and Amy Grant, and also to ignore the clear template she laid for the rollout of the successful Janet clones over the following years: Jody Watley, Vanessa Williams, Pebbles, Karyn White, and Paula Abdul. (Disclaimer: these ladies were all great artists in their own rights—they were clones only in the sense of how they were marketed and why the labels likely signed them—they were pretty, sassy, sweet, and could dance [Pebbles excluded on the dancing—sorry]).
• AND another thing… once that first wave of success from those Janet clones died down in the early 90s, the trifecta of Brandy, Monica, and Aaliyah sprang up. Aaliyah was the most obvious parallel to Janet, but Brandy and Monica also cribbed a lot from the Janet template. They, in turn, set the stage for Beyonce, who like Brandy and Monica, had both the big voice and Janet’s knack for performing and taking artistic risks. The Janet influence was palpable and huge, and has remained so for the past 30 years.
• This trope that Jon and Wesley invoke of Janet being a lesser luminary than Whitney Houston or Michael Jackson is only as true as the perceptions that created it. Janet was every bit as influential and omnipresent in her own way as they were, at least in the U.S., and as much so as Mariah Carey in the 90s. It’s ironic that the ostensible point of this podcast, that Janet’s influence has been underestimated, is undercut by the commentators perpetuating that underestimation yet again.
• As a particularly head-scratching moment during the podcast, while admitting they’re geeking out over the minutiae of Janet’s career, one of them confesses that such a conversation about Whitney could go on for 12 hours, presumably WAY longer than they could bring themselves to continue discussing Janet. That’s interesting, because although I’m quite familiar with Whitney’s work and enjoy it immensely, I could make that a one-sentence discussion: Whitney fielded other people’s songs, assembled them into albums chock full of hits, sang them beautifully, gained adoration for her crystalline, angelic voice, then rinsed and repeated until 1998. I’m not sure what caverns of artistic expression and cultural influence could be productively mined during the other 11 hours and 58 minutes of discussion.
• This idea that belters are inherently better than other singers has got to stop; at the very least, music critics should be above that sort of reductive “bigger is better”-type reasoning. At every other step in the podcast, we are reminded of the crippling limitations of Janet’s vocal ability when compared to, say, Whitney, or Patti LaBelle, or Tina Turner, who were all popular when Control was on the charts. When, at the very end of the podcast, they finally get around to valuing Janet’s ability to skillfully use her vocals together with the production of the song, they use the unfortunate and weird term “slithering.”
• Some of the genre-based classification in the podcast was a bit clumsy. However, I am fully in agreement with the assertion that Janet’s default setting, which is often given as “pop,” should actually be “rock.” Control, taken on a literal sonic level, is more a rock record than pop or R&B. Given the heavy rock influence on the Minneapolis sound, this should come as little surprise. Janet’s senses of adventure, iconoclasm, and energy lend themselves most especially to the rock idiom.
• Now for the clumsy part. Janet is entirely at home as either a pop or R&B artist. The critics seem to overlook that she had more success on the R&B charts, as evidenced in their suggestions that she never really fit into the R&B/urban scene. To some degree, it was significant that she did not have a pronounced gospel influence, but it also wasn’t unprecedented. Dionne Warwick and Diana Ross never flaunted any church pipes and fit in quite nicely on the R&B charts.
• My thought is that, in an effort to not make this podcast take on a distracting Whitney-versus-Janet tone, the decision was made, perhaps unconsciously, to couch Janet’s uniqueness in some sort of backdrop where music lovers could only listen to a black woman sing if she sounded like Mahalia Jackson. Tina came from the church, but she was so fully transformed into a rock-and-roll vixen by the 80s that it’s hard to shoehorn her into the same mold as Whitney. And let’s be clear: Patti LaBelle was never a pop superstar. She had one big hit, with Michael McDonald. Even her signature anthem, “New Attitude,” only made it to #17 on the pop charts.
• The elephant in the room about why Janet was overshadowed and undervalued is this—people made the choice to memorialize and glorify a gifted song interpreter (Whitney Houston) over a 360-degree songwriter, producer, singer, performer, dancer, and artist who built epic and innovative album concepts from deeply personal experience, and managed to do it in an accessible fashion (that would be Janet). This may actually be a Janet-versus-Whitney thing after all.

There may be a Part Two to this response, because a lot of territory was covered in the podcast, but these are the points that came to mind most immediately. But despite the critics suffering from what I feel are some of the same misperceptions as the mainstream in their assessment of Janet’s career, it was terrific that they set aside the time and space to have the discussion at all. For that, I am appreciative.

Janet made her way in the music world by focusing on the “Janet” and downplaying the “Jackson.” Prior to Control, however, her most notable recording achievement was “Don’t Stand Another Chance,” a full-on family affair, with her brothers providing background vocals and Marlon producing.

It’s clear on this festive track that Janet’s folks were ready to take the industry by storm. (I say her “folks” because Janet was famously disinterested in her recording career at this point in her life.) A driving beat, hyperactive synths, and Janet’s sprightly vocal delivery made it clear that they were gunning for a home run single.

There’s nothing new or noteworthy about either the arrangement or the lyrics, but everything here is highly polished and competent. The dopey lyrics and kitschy post-disco arrangements that dragged the rest of this album down were not happening here. The one concession to the times is the conspicuous reliance on synthesizers to carry the song .

Three nods to Janet’s future greatness are noted here. Her first co-writing credit is one. Her affinity for funk-fueled dance-pop is another.

The third is a spoken aside she delivers during one of the instrumental breaks: “Somebody’s gotta lose. We all can’t win. Maybe next time.” It’s quick and loose, but therein lies its subversiveness. Pop music production at the time was usually pretty rigid. An emerging young female vocalist saying something off-the-cuff in the middle of a song was not common. I can’t recall Madonna breaking the fourth wall of the recording studio until the 90s.

This “innovation” may have more to do with the funk side of Janet’s musical DNA. (It could also be an attempt to ape the spoken opening of “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough.”) It was nothing for George Clinton to have complete conversations in the middle of a song at the time. So although we tend to say Janet was just a musical puppet until Control, there are some indications that she was a little more adventurous at the time than is generally thought.

For sheer execution, this lands an 82 out of 100.

Janet Jackson ends with a meteor approaching from the left.

After struggling with post-disco triteness, gooey teeny-bop ditties, and over-earnest ballads, Janet fully finds her voice on “Come Give Your Love to Me,” the album closer.

This track captures the sentiment of a young woman who is frustrated with the reticence of a potential boyfriend and wants him to make a move. It’s age-appropriately pre-sexual without being childish. The dark instrumentation contrasts with the sweetest coo Janet can muster (a trick she and Jimmy and Terry would tweak to perfection in later years). The slow burn of the moody bass and guitar licks, the extended guitar solo, the understated vocal delivery—all of these elements transcend the ‘80s trappings that threaten to make this song a dated curiosity—a fate not every track on this record escapes.

Janet here foreshadows the later suppleness and subtlety of her voice. For the first time, there are layers to her delivery. Most importantly, she sounds like she is interested in the song.

If she could have gotten Foster Sylvers to produce a half dozen more tracks like this, Janet’s superstar breakthrough might have occurred four years earlier. This is a real gem. 80 out of 100.

Or maybe not so much.

One of the clunkiest, most dated tracks on Janet’s debut album, “The Magic is Working” seems like it would be more at home on Dream Street. Synthesized horns, a slightly grating ‘80s boogie shuffle, and formulaic, hackneyed lyrics all conspire to make this track one of the lowlights of Janet’s music career.

The vocals here are also unspectacular. Since there is no pretense of adult feelings on this song, Janet may have been directed to take the cutesy Annie route. However, playing up the immaturity of her voice did not have the intended charming effect. The falsetto backing vocals are similarly cloying.

I am a diehard Janet fan. I really am. But there’s nothing here that portends later greatness or has any redeeming value as a musical stepping stone for Jan. The shuffle beat was resurrected to much better effect on “Go Deep,” and all of her later doe-eyed proclamations of love were entirely more joyous, inspired, and sincere.

If you want a frothy juvenile love ballad that gushes crushiness, please fast forward a quarter century to “Daybreak” off of 20 Y.O. Leave this one as a relic of Janet’s career before she was serious about music.

I’m so sorry, Janet. This is a 40 out of 100.

… how long it’s been since I posted. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

In the excitement following the release of Unbreakable last year, I was awash in motivation to chronicle every nook and cranny of Janet’s career. That was and is the purpose of this blog (along with the relaunched Facebook page of the same name).

I beseech you to pardon my inattention as I commit to getting this show back on the road. We have about nine albums’ worth of material to cover. Beyond that, there is so much to say regarding cultural influence, themes and motifs across albums, instrumentation, songwriting, production, Jam & Lewis versus all the other producers Janet has used, and so on.

I’m excited to relaunch and will be back here shortly with the next chapter in my Janalysis.

One of the greatest points of pride I have as a Janet Jackson fan is that she has been relatively selective about the gimmicky or cliche projects with which she associates herself. There’s no Janet Jackson Christmas album (although I have heard this is currently in the pipeline), there’s been no schtick-y renditions of the national anthem or “America The Beautiful” at any sporting events, and she hasn’t released a covers album. She’s only ever recorded four covers that I am aware of (“Tonight’s The Night,” “One More Chance,” “Weekend,” and “The Beat of Black Wings”).

But, OK, I admit it. I want a covers album.

Not only do I want one, I have a track listing. Janet—are you taking this down?

“I Miss You” (originally recorded by Klymaxx) If memory serves, there were comparisons to MJ when Klymaxx released this single back in 1986. I think the tender, Jackson-esque balladry of this record is a natural fit for Janet’s voice.

“Tender Love” (originally recorded by the Force MD’s) This song was released at almost exactly the same time as “I Miss You,” and it too lends itself to Janet’s vocal delivery. As a matter of fact, after reviewing the arrangement in my head as I was writing this piece, I had a sneaking suspicion that was confirmed through a quick web search—Jimmy and Terry actually wrote and produced the song. I never knew that.

“Uptown Funk” (originally recorded by Mark Ronson featuring Bruno Mars) Too soon? Actually, when the song came out, I was hoping beyond hope that Janet would immediately record a response track (sort of like Beyonce’s version of “In Da Club”), and if she did do a version of this song, I think I’d still prefer her to re-write the lyrics for herself (how about “I’m too hot (hot damn) / Make a drag queen wanna retire, man”?) The original is straight out of the Minneapolis playbook, and Janet could re-channel her “Control” vibe in a vivid, light-hearted way.

“In My House” (originally recorded by The Mary Jane Girls) This remake has been brewing in my head for at least 20 years. I think Janet could out-sexy Rick James’ all-girl crew with one eyelash tied behind her back (although that sounds painful). A dance routine from Gil and Janet to this song would be off-the-charts.

“I’m Coming Out” (originally recorded by Diana Ross) *Sigh* I am somewhat reluctant to place a Diana song anywhere near Janet, because I do not particularly care for Diana as an artist, a singer, and otherwise. My “friends” needle me about the similarities between Diana and Janet, and this cover would only encourage them. But the classic disco goodness of this track and Janet’s skill accompanying complex arrangements makes me think she could offer a mind-blowing improvement over the original.

“Hello” (originally recorded by Lionel Richie; subsequently butchered by Demi Lovato on this year’s Grammy telecast) So, yeah, Demi. What’s wrong with being overconfident is that you can tear a tender love song to shreds by approaching it with sheer lung power. Janet could apply just the delicate touch needed to re-interpret this 80s classic.

“Total Eclipse of the Heart” (originally recorded by Bonnie Tyler) I have two iterations of this idea. In the first, Janet covers the song in full, toning down Bonnie’s histrionics to suit her vocal style. Although there is bombast in the song, at its core it is an emotional ballad, and I would like to see what Janet (not to mention Jimmy and Terry) would do with it.

In the second version, the cover would be a duet between Janet and Beyonce, with Beyonce taking on the raspy, stratospheric stylings of Ms. Tyler, and Janet singing the male lead. (Curiously, the original was not released as a duet although there was clearly a male lead vocal.) This is perhaps the only song in existence that would facilitate a duet between these two ladies. It could be quite interesting.

“You Are Not Alone” (originally recorded by Michael Jackson) Really, a full album of MJ covers would be lovely, but I don’t think Janet is ready to embrace her brother’s legacy so fully yet. When you’ve been your own artist for 30 years, reached legendary status, and STILL have to hear a bunch of knuckleheads talking about how you rode your brother’s coattails, then the idea of a full cover album can seem distasteful.

Still, I have to pick one song, and this one seemed better suited to Janet, even when it first came out. No matter your opinion of R. Kelly, it’s difficult to deny the sheer gorgeousness of this track he wrote for MJ. Janet could slay a version of this, especially if she dedicated it and sang it directly to her brother, or sang it as MJ singing to her.

“Save The Best for Last” (originally recorded by Vanessa Williams) Thanks to this song and “Colors of the Wind,” most tend to think of Vanessa’s recording career as more targeted to the adult contemporary crowd. Truth is, Vanessa was originally promoted very much as a Janet-style artist (remember “The Right Stuff” and “Running Back to You”?) And although she is regarded as a more classical pop vocalist than Janet, their voices are actually similar in a lot of ways. Along with “In My House,” the idea for this cover has been stuck in my head for many years. I think Janet could take this song back to number one.

Was it corny that I ended with that song? Oh, well. Covers albums are inherently corny endeavors, so I guess it’s fitting.

Please, Janet, give this covers album concept a thought.

Then, release a ballad collection. Followed by an album of unreleased tracks. Then the Christmas album. Thanks so much.

Here we are… the home stretch.

10. “Someone to Call My Lover” (All For You, 2001)

Jam-Lewis-Jackson is considered a production team first, a hit-making team second (if that can be seen as a distinction from production), and a songwriting team last. Despite their wealth of ingenious hooks and thoughtful, evocative lyrics, you don’t find them praised with the same reverence as, say, Lennon and McCartney.

When STCML showed up on All For You, the first thing I thought of was Lennon and McCartney. There was something elementally catchy and honest about the melody that caused me to make the connection. And that’s what this song represents to me.

It’s not the most sophisticated lyric in the world, but therein lies its charm. It captures the dreamy schoolgirl fantasy of The Perfect Guy, and it does so with an unembarrassed giddiness that resonates particularly well given the gritty breakup realism of the earlier songs on the album.

9. “After You Fall” (Unbreakable, 2015)

I mentioned back at #15 that the piano balladry of “Every Time” one-upped the angst of “Again.” In that progression of sparsely arranged slow songs, “After You Fall” slays both of them.

“After You Fall” is told from a second-person perspective, which gives it an ambiguity—who is the “you” she speaks of? Is it a rhetorical reference to herself? Is it food for thought for her fans? Is it about her brother? Given that she follows the song with the touching “Broken Hearts Heal” (the song about MJ which was one of the near-misses for this list), this last interpretation appears plausible. Since she perfectly captures the feeling of isolation that swallows us all when we are feeling down and out, it might as well be all of the above.

The relatively full arrangements of the rest of Unbreakable allow us to listen along without focusing on the changes in Janet’s voice, but this song puts them on display to heart-wrenching effect.

8. “One More Chance” (B-side, “If,” 1993)

It is quite possible for the casual listener to gloss over this song and not see anything special. The song, the arrangement, and the vocal are all very subdued.

If you listen to it with the fervor of a Janet fan, however, you can quickly pick up on the magical melancholy that Janet juices from the remake of her brothers’ song from the Victory album. It’s a quiet, atmospheric, aching plea to a lover to reconsider the decision to move on, thick with the resigned desperation of someone who feels like all is lost but can’t help pleading her case anyway. A gorgeous track.

7. “Trust a Try” (All For You, 2001)

I just love Experimental Janet. Every track from here forward to number one distinguishes itself by being a unique listening experience, never replicated and otherworldly in its own brilliant way.

Experimental Janet goes a bit overboard on “Trust a Try,” merging funk, rock, classical, pop, and hip-hop in an epic sonic hodgepodge that kicks off the Honesty Suite of Rene-bashing on All For You.

But it’s a good kind of overboard. There’s no reason it should work, but the team organizes the disparate elements into a controlled chaos that is loud, brash, and terrific.

6. “The Great Forever” (Unbreakable, 2015-16)

Labels also elude this standout track, my favorite from Unbreakable. The ambiguously genred song is also a vocal showcase for Janet, who channels Michael’s tics and intonations, in addition to his mistrust of the media.

She pulls off the nifty trick of bashing the media without sounding bitter by using wry sarcasm, deflective humor, and a dollop of sweet/saucy well-wishing to those she is criticizing (“I hope that someday/You find the great forever, too”).

This song is rich on all fronts: songwriting, vocals, arrangement, and innovation. A total win.

5. “Nasty” (Control, 1986)

I clearly remember hearing this song for the first time in the summer of 1986. It was a Saturday morning, and I had just awakened and turned on the radio in my room. I heard “Nasty” all the way through, and immediately my life changed. This was the music I had been waiting for.

I’m not making this up. The song changed my life. It was the one that made me a fan.

While listening that Saturday morning, I heard sound effects and vocals that I had never imagined possible. This was chopped and screwed twenty years before anyone knew what that was, dismantling and re-assembling the Minneapolis sound block by funky block. It was rapping of a sort that hadn’t been invented yet, when all the “real” rappers still sounded like they were reciting nursery rhymes. It was a woman being unapologetically assertive on record when Madonna was still being ironically coy on songs like “Papa Don’t Preach” (i.e., singing the same way girls had always sung, but with tongue in cheek—still very cool, but not sonically different).

This song was a revolution. And thirty years later, every music fan and announcer in the world still reminds us that we have to call her Ms. Jackson—if we’re nasty.

4. “If” (janet., 1993)

If there were ever to be accusations of drug use in the Janet Jackson recording studio, “If” would be Exhibit A. This is a trippy song, full of hazy guitar riffs, Supremes samples, and ethereal harmonies, all drawn together by a driving beat and a sizzling, sensuous vocal from Janet. The regimented genre-hopping here would later give way to the bombast of “Trust a Try,” but this was plenty cutting-edge for the early 90s, and the song itself, stripped of all the production, is solid and hard-hitting on its own. Like “Nasty,” it’s an assertive stake in the ground for Janet, this time showing her proudly owning her fantasies.

3. “Empty” (The Velvet Rope, 1997)

The lyrics of this song about online romance approach top-tier poetry. The arrangement is evocative on several layers. The skittering electronic beats approximate frantically typing on a computer keyboard while also speaking to the excitement of “meeting” someone for the first time. The highly processed background vocals simulate computerized alerts. Janet’s relatable lead vocal tie it all together, adding the human element of wonderment at this “new way to love.”

The genius of the music of Janet Jackson is most often felt rather than explainable in concrete terms, but this song is an exception. The jaw-droppingly prophetic take on online relationships coupled with the overtly cerebral and clever arrangement choices make this a work of musical genius.

2. “Love Will Never Do (Without You)” (Rhythm Nation, 1989-91)

Like “Empty,” this gargantuan track is notable for its patient and satisfying build into a crescendo of emotion and sound. The album version builds for six minutes until the climactic high note from Janet, which segues magically into a matching trumpet note from Herb Alpert.

Originally conceived as a duet with Prince, the first verse of this song was written for a male, which Janet gamely sings as written in a surprising and sultry lower register. Even more surprising is when she erupts into sunshine for the “female” second verse. By inches, what appeared at first to be a routine love song transforms into something way more sprawling. After the second verse resolves into a conclusive instrumental coda, the whole thing starts up again with a call-and-response section, followed by a trumpet solo courtesy of the head of the record label, then to the climax and denouement.

This is a prime example of the Jam-Lewis-Jackson partnership in its best possible manifestation, each playing off the others’ strengths to create an unforgettable pop masterpiece.

1. “Enjoy” (20 Y.O., 2006)

I did warn you at the beginning to “Enjoy” this list.

I take great pride in listing a song from Janet’s most-maligned record as the number one best song she has ever created. I think this demonstrates my agnostic approach to this chart (as regards different periods of her career or favoring popular songs over more obscure ones) and it shows that Janet at her worst is still capable of clobbering Janet at her best. I guess that’s just a weird way of saying she’s consistent.

“Enjoy” has one of the simplest and most honest messages of any of her records, and it is written with a sweet determination and delivered with a knowing and even weary optimism that keeps it from seeming like a goofy feel-good track (sorry Pharrell). It’s inspirational without being emotionally shallow, uplifting without being patronizing.

The beautiful arrangement echoes all the sentiments of the song, with a repeated synth motif (which I hear as the grind of everyday life) backed by sparkling piano (which represents to me the beautiful moments within that grind).

The child choir at the end doesn’t even derail the proceedings, serving as a reminder about what unspoiled enjoyment sounds like instead of being the goopy mess it could have turned into in less capable hands.

… and that, my friends, is the end. Believe me, I want to argue with myself for not including: “This Time,” “And On And On,” “Together Again,” “You Ain’t Right,” “China Love,” “Doesn’t Really Matter, “What Can I Say?” “Like You Don’t Love Me,” “Truly,” “Show Me,” “Broken Hearts Heal,” “So Much Betta,” “LUV,” “When I Think of You,” “Black Cat,” “Come Back to Me,” “New Agenda,” “My Need,” “All For You,” “This Body,” “Greatest X,” and “Rock With You.”

But there were only the 50 slots and these are the breaks.

One final note in anticipation of the inevitable questions: yes, I left out “Control” and “The Pleasure Principle” on purpose. Those songs have special meaning for me, too, but as an impartial listener, the original album versions of those songs are missing a certain fullness and depth that Janet consistently captured on every subsequent project. By the time the music video remixes (which in both cases were great improvements on the originals) arrived, the damage had been done.

If this offends you, I suggest you write a letter to Janet telling her to stop constantly evolving and improving. Thanks.