The power of emulation and the ripple effects of a snowstorm
Janet Jackson might never have become a star in her own right without Prince and a snowstorm.
The story I am about to tell is a story of rivalry and emulation. And it starts in the 1970s in Minnesota. The "Twin Cities" of St Paul and Minneapolis were the home of a relatively small African-American community, and of an equally small Jewish community. They were the hometown of Bob Dylan, born Robert Zimmerman, who had, by that time, already become one of the most important folk musician and poet of the past century, and of Prince Rogers Nelson, who was still a teenager at the time, living – to quote his own words – "in a black and white world".
The music scene of the Twin Cities was thriving in the 70s. High school bands were many, and high school halls were the home of epic "Battles of the Bands". The two most talented and promising bands of that period were Flyte Tyme (taking its name from "Flight Time", a song by Donald Byrd, a jazz and funk trumpet player), and Grand Central (inspired by the name of former Sly & The Family Stone bass player Larry Graham’s band, Grand Central Station). Both bands were playing funk and R&B classics. They composed their own songs too. Flyte Tyme was led by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis. Grand Central by Prince, with Morris Day, his neighbour and friend, on drums. These two bands were both extremely talented, and eager to make it.
By the end of the 70s, Prince has parted ways with Grand Central, had signed a solo contract with Warner Brothers, and released his first two LPs, For You, on 7 April 1978, and in October 1979, his follow-up self-titles album Prince. The fact that he had used a demo cassette of songs played by Grand Central to land his record deal (pretending that he was the one playing all the instruments – which, granted, he could, but was not the case) created a rift between him and his former Grand Central teammates; but Morris Day and Prince remained close.
Right from the onset of his career, Prince proved to be an amazingly prolific artist, and was keen to find ways to release as much music as possible. One way to achieve this goal was to produce other acts and bands, a right he had negotiated under his Warner contract. So he reached out to Morris Day and they started to record songs together in the studio. Once they had enough material to finish an album (released in 1981), they reached out to former Flyte Tyme musicians and an amazingly gifted guitar player, Jesse Johnson, and created The Time.
The Time focused on funk and R&B, whilst Prince went out to explore other musical genres. His goal was to "cross-over" and become a more mainstream act, appealing to both African-American and white crowds. He achieved this to a degree with 1999 (Little Red Corvette got airplay on MTV, a rare feat for African-American artists at the time). And then came Purple Rain in 1984. With the help of his new band, The Revolution, a bi-racial (like Sly and the Family Stone) group, composed of Black and Jewish members, Purple Rain became a huge success. But by then, The Time were extremely popular too. During the 1999 Tour, The Time opened for Prince and The Revolution. And the reaction that The Time got from the crowd was so positive that Prince became slightly annoyed, if not simply jealous... That rivalry had its positive effects: both bands became better and better as a result. And incidentally, it served as the background of the Purple Rain story.
But Prince wanted to maintain control over The Time. That meant in particular that no band member could play or produce for anyone without Prince’s consent. A consent he always refused to give. By 1983, Terry Lewis and Jimmy Jam were no longer prepared to accept that level of control. So they decided to produce bands on the side. They took the advantage of a few days off during the 1999 tour to fly to Atlanta to supervise a recording session for the S.O.S. Band. But because of an unexpected blizzard, they got stranded there and missed the next show... Prince fired them on the spot. And this decision proved to be the best thing that could have ever happened to them.
Jam and Lewis set up their own music production company, Flyte Tyme Productions, and their own recording studios in Minneapolis. In 1986 they produced Control, Janet Jackson’s third album recorded in their hometown studio. Control became Janet's first major hit and sold 10 million units, more than Prince’s Parade, which was released the same year. In 1989, Rhythm Nation 1814 was another smashing success, selling 12 million copies worldwide. Since then, Jam and Lewis have become one of the most influential R&B producers of the last three decades. Prince continued to thrive, and was inducted to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2004.
This story is everything but anecdotal. It demonstrates in a vivid way the power of emulation. Friendly rivalry and competition can lead to fantastic results. Admittedly, it is difficult to predict what would have happened to Jam and Lewis without this snowstorm. I would like to believe that they would have parted ways with The Time and reached success anyways. After years of emulation, they were ready for that. It was just a question of time (and yes, that (poor) pun is intended!).
Nice post Eric Fiszelson - it is important to note that all involved in your case study had real talent as their baseline. We've seen it time and time again over the years - new ventures emerge with a flurry in #LegalTech aiming to align or replicate the leaders, and yet they then fade away into insignificance. Why? Whether it be emulation or imitation, few succeed without real talent and experience - irrespective of the snowstorm they experience.