By shelz.
Youthful arrogance has fooled plenty of people into thinking the good times will roll forever. If you add fame, drugs and a gaggle of yes men and easy women, it turns into a hedonistic powder keg. Rick James lived at the center of his own riotous fantasy for years, partying like it was 1999 from sun up to sun down in between sold out gigs and recording sessions. But through that haze he managed to create a character that stormed the stage like a colossus with an arsenal of infectious and ground-breaking work; intent on spreading love the funk way and taking the party to a whole new level.
James’ energy, both on record and live, was hypnotic. Even the most wall flowery party guest was spun 180 on their axis when the father of punk funk unleashed his storm of layered percussion, big guitars and bigger horns. The upbeat foundation carried a hard rock edge, but when he took it down a few notches, his blissful R&B still shook with power. Rick’s sound was massive, dynamic and brilliantly constructed. And even with music fit for the most rambunctious of party goers, James took it a step further and practiced every bit of what he preached.
Even in outfits few men would be caught dead in, and a hairdo a little too similar to his lead Mary Jane girl, Rick oozed sexuality. His delivery, while not the smoky soulful beauty of Teddy Pendergrass, was just as authoritative. Rick wasn’t going to seduce you. He was going to strong arm you into saying yes. Yes to the weed. Yes to the coke. Yes to the orgy. Yes to the over the top wildness of it all. And even if you felt a bit taken advantage of the morning after, you didn’t mind.
On Monday morning we washed off the glitter. We sobered up, took the panties out of our purses or from around the rear-view mirror, and laundered the HTC stench out of our favorite disco top. We left our wild child membership cards on the hotel dresser, gave Rick a sly wink and trudged back to the real world. That was Rick’s real world though. When the DJ said, “Ain’t no party like a Rick James party cause a Rick James party don’t stop,” he meant it.
Sometimes the matrix of excess is unforgiving and too strong to shake. Rick was trapped. The pharmaceuticals went from recreational to deadly necessary. His health took a nose dive as did his personal life. The hard partying 80’s funk gave birth to the belligerent realism of early 90’s Hip Hop and grunge and Rick quickly became dated.He still worked afterwards, writing and producing. There was talk of a comeback and a memoir, but the party caught up with Rick in 2004 and he died in his California home. He was only 56 years old.
Rick James was the early 80’s. He was the embodiment of every self-indulgent whim we worshiped during the “ME” decade, imploring us to believe nothing existed except the good time. Since Rick’s death, we have loved him in pieces. Ashante, Scarface and Jay-Z have kept the legacy alive through their music. Dave Chapelle had us all usurping a little of the funk king’s identity and his family released a thoughtful documentary chronicling his life. But Rick still lives, in every 70’s highlight reel and blue light in the basement party. There is no quiet storm without “Fire and Desire,” you can’t differentiate the easy girls from the prudes until the DJ puts on “Super Freak” and the red light at the front door dims without Mary Jane. Rick is always the life of the party, even now.
Rest In Peace
Love,
shelz.
Rick James -“You and I”
Rick James – “Happy”
Rick James feat. Roxanne Shante – “Loosey’s Rap (The Marley Marl Mix)
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Rick James – “Cold Blooded”
Rick James – “69 Times”
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