. . . Just Say No! . . .
When I made it back home to Charlotte that evening, Chelsea met me at the door with the kids and asked me about the experience with John. I kissed her and both of the kids and said, “I have a song to produce.”
“One of John's songs?” she asked me.
I said, “Yeah.”
She put down Darin Jr., who was walking by then, on our hardwood floors and said, “Let me see it. He wrote some lyrics while in there?”
I said, “Yeah, last night while Chris Rock jumped all over him.”
Chelsea smiled at me. She said, “So, you did watch it then?”
“Yeah, I watched it,” I told her as I pulled John's lyric sheets out of my bag. “John didn't like that so much either.”
“They let him watch that in there?” she asked me.
My daughter, Imani, who was three years old, looked up and asked me, “Is Uncle John all better now?” She could talk like her mother, too, with off-of-the-charts chatter.
I said, “Yeah, Uncle John is getting better. But it'll take a while longer, baby.”
Chelsea had started referring to John as our kids' uncle, along with my two older brothers, and I didn't object to it. And of course, even though Imani had only met John once in person, during Big Joe's funeral in Florida, with her hearing some of the songs that he sang and seeing the videos that he was in, John quickly became her favorite uncle.
She said, “Well, I hope he's all better to sing more songs.”
I picked her up, kissed her on the lips, smiled at her, and said, “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”
Chelsea was still waiting for me to answer her question. She even repeated it to me. “So they let him watch The Chris Rock Show in there? Was that a safe thing for them to do? Or maybe they didn't know what he was going to talk about.”
I smiled and said, “That's what I asked. And John basically said that the news was going to get back to him regardless. I mean, he's not in a coma in there. And they all know what's going on. Or at least some of them do.”
Chelsea took the lyric sheets from me as if they were ancient Bible scriptures.
I said, “I didn't know that you were anticipating it so much.”
“I wasn't,” she told me. “But I am curious to see it.”
She looked at me a few seconds later with a raised brow, after picking Darin Jr. back up. That boy was already spoiled. I figured I had to break him out of that real soon.
Chelsea asked me, “Is this a gospel song?” She was frowning.
I smiled and responded, “What does it read like?”
“It reads like a gospel song, but how are you gonna produce it?”
I smiled and said, “Like a very good gospel song.”
“And John wrote this? I thought that he wasn't gonna do gospel,” she commented.
I said, “He's not. But evidently, that doesn't mean that he can't write it. ”
Imani looked toward the lyric sheets in her mother's hand and asked, “Is Uncle John gonna sing that song?”
I answered, “No, Uncle John is not going to sing it, but he did write it for someone else to sing, baby. And Daddy's gonna do the music.”
The first thing I did was call Tony up and tell him what I was up to.
He said, “Aw'ight. When do you want to do it?”
For some reason, I didn't think it would be that easy. I was expecting to have to twist Tony's arm to play for me.
I said, “So, you don't have any problem with doing gospel music then?”
Tony said, “Wait a minute. You said that John wrote this, right?”
I said, “Yeah, John wrote it, but he didn't do any music for it.”
“Well, if this is John's song, it don't matter if it's gospel. We gon' add the funk to it, and make Kirk Franklin and them jealous down there,” Tony told me with a laugh. “He from Charlotte, too, ain't he?”
I chuckled and said, “Yeah, he's from Charlotte.”
He said, “Well, I'm just gon' ask you this, man. While we in production, I want to bring my whole family with me while I'm down there. I'm getting tired of leaving them behind all the time, and my wife be bitching up a storm now with the kids. So maybe they could all hang out for a minute at your big crib and get to know each other or something, man.”
I grinned real wide. I said, “Tony, that's the best idea that I've heard from you in years, man. In years! ”
Tony said, “Yeah, and you're paying for it, right?”
I laughed and told him, “Yeah, I got it. But it's not like you can't afford it on your own, Mr. Beatmaker. ”
Tony laughed it off. That boy had to have three or four times more money than I did. Great beat making paid the bills real well in the nineties. I understood about his family situation, too. My wife Chelsea was pregnant again herself. What could I say, we could afford the extra love.
I got a whole group of musicians together with Tony on the drums, a bass player, a lead guitar, an organist, and a keyboard player, and we laid the track down in a couple of days, and mixed it for two more, so that everyone could listen to it several times with rested ears before we set the track in stone.
The basic groove was led by the bass, the drums, and the piano. Everything else slipped in and out for effects. I listened to the track over and over again with the engineers to mix it just right, while the bass, drums, and piano complemented each other in a bouncy groove:
Tony did his thing on the drums with plenty of effects in the background:
When we settled on the final mix, Tony listened to it a few more times and nodded his head.
He said, “The mood is set, D. The levels are right on, and now whoever you got in mind to sing this thing, man, they gotta be able to bring the noise. For real! 'Cause I can hear John's voice on this thing right now, man. Right now! ”
Everyone else agreed with him. It was John's kind of song. The final mix was great music and all, but you had to really sing the lyrics well to make it work. The track begged for you to sing it well.
I brought a tape home and let Chelsea listen to it after we knew that we had what we wanted.
Chelsea listened to it a few times in our bedroom and asked me with a smile, “So . . . who are you gonna get to sing the lyrics?”
I was already on it. I smiled back at her and said, “It's this trio out of Atlanta called the Midnights. They got their name straight from John's second song. I was with him when he first performed it back at Norfolk State.”
I laughed, reminiscing, and said, “They stiffed us on some of the money and got his name wrong on the posters. That's when I first started managing John.”
Chelsea frowned and asked, “This group calls themselves The Midnights? That's like some old-school stuff.”
I laughed and said, “Yeah, they sing old-school, too. That's why I like them. They just haven't had any big breaks yet.”
Chelsea still couldn't get past the name. She repeated, “The Midnights?”
“Chelsea, look,” I told her, “they're three dark brown brothers like me. Okay? So I like what they're doing. They gon' bring dark skin back in,” I said with a chuckle.
Chelsea looked at me and grinned. She said, “I don't know what you're talking about, but dark skin never left in my book. You just have to be able to sing with it.”
I said, “Well, I've already called their manager. I'm gon' fly down to Atlanta to meet up with these guys.”
Chelsea asked me, “Do they sing gospel?”
I started to chuckle. I said, “I don't know yet. I didn't ask them that.”
“You didn't send them a copy of the song?” she asked me.
I grinned and said, “Nah. You know, some people start turning gospel music down before they even try it. That's the same thing John did. And we know good and well that most black musicians come straight from the church. Then they start singing secular music and front.”
My wife laughed at me and said, “You better get down off of that high horse, Mr. Gospel. Because you haven't done much gospel music up to this point either.”
I said, “Yeah, but I was always open to it. Always! Even when John first started out.”
Chelsea said, “We'll see,” and we left it at that.
• • •
I flew down to Atlanta to meet with the Midnights and their manager, and I let them listen to the track a few times before I showed them any lyrics. You know, I had to play my cards right.
They said, “Yeah, this music sounds like Loverboy. That's his style. So what do we sing with it?” They were all excited about it.
I said, “All right, this song has a blues, gospel feel to it.”
They took one look at the lyrics and looked back at me.
They asked me, “This is gospel . . . ?”
Like the classic Slick Rick song that my older brothers used to listen to, it was the moment I feared. I said, “This is a John ‘Loverboy’ Williams song, and he was always one to take chances. And I mean, I want to get someone to try and perform this thing live at the National Music Awards coming up. But you know, if y'all don't want to do it, I understand.”
Their manager said, “Wait a minute. You have a spot at the National Music Awards to perform this?”
I said, “That's what I'm trying to do, have it performed on a main stage. I want everyone to hear it. I mean, are your guys even up for that?”
I was trying reverse psychology and everything. These guys really had the confident sound that I needed. So I threw in a knockout punch and went for the kill.
I said, “I could always ask Boyz II Men to go out there and perform it. They let John on his first big tour with them years ago. But I just wanted to give some new blood a chance to shine. I mean, I thought that y'all were looking for that opportunity.”
Honestly, I didn't know if Boyz II Men wanted to sing any gospel either. Gospel music really seemed taboo for secular singers. I was being forced to jump through all kinds of hoops over it. The Midnights were still hesitant.
The lead singer, Sam Clean, stepped up and said, “I'm sayin', man, if we go gospel on our first big song like this, some people won't really try to listen out for anything else that we do.”
I tried to play hardball from a manager perspective at that point. I said, “I managed John to success for years. And sometimes you just have to put yourself in a position to pass or fail. You can't keep playing the safe route thinking that something lucky is gonna happen for you. I mean, the main thing that you want to do is perform a good show, and let everybody know that you can follow in John's footsteps. Unless you don't think that John's music is a good enough example for you to follow. Because if that's the case, then I understand.”
They knew that wasn't the case. Loverboy was the bomb! They had named themselves after one of his early songs in their college years. They were the same age as me, and they were running out of time to be stars. The new millennium would not wait for it to happen for you.
To make a long story short, I convinced the Midnights to try it, and I had to keep telling them to slow their vocals down and feel the power of each word like John would. It had to be done perfectly to have an opportunity with the selection process for the National Music Awards show.
I got back home and told my wife about my sins, because I really wasn't frank with those guys in Atlanta. Chelsea had another good laugh at me.
She said, “So, now you have to call up and beg someone at the National Music Awards to allow you to do this. What were you thinking? ”
I said, “I don't know, man. Something just came over me. I felt desperate to get this thing done. And performing it at the National Music Awards is a good idea. You have to admit that.”
Chelsea said, “Well, at least they sound good on the song.”
I said, “Yeah, with a lot of hard work. John was just”—I caught myself speaking in the past tense and said—“that boy is just a genius, man. He goes in the studio and lays a song down in a couple takes. It took the Midnights a couple of days. But they finally got it right, though.”
“Yeah, well, John was also doing his own music and his own lyrics, so he knew exactly what he was supposed to do,” she reminded me.
I nodded to her and said, “Yeah, you're right.”
Next I flew out to Los Angeles to talk to the award show organizers, and they liked the song idea, they were just hesitant like everyone else to do it.
I said, “Now, John performed for you guys when he didn't get any awards that first year, and you know he deserved it. Then he came right back and worked with you again the year after that. And he can't get no love now? I mean, this song could really affect some people in a positive way. We're all from the church deep down inside. Think about it. This song is what we could use at the awards ceremony this year to send out a strong message to new artists and to the community.”
They heard me out and told me that they would have to think it over. Man, I felt like I was right back in the game of managing for John again. I was doing all I could to keep his spirits up and keep him alive. It was as if I was trying to save my boy's life single-handedly. I called to check up on him and to let him listen to what we were doing over the phone.
He said, “That sounds good, D. You say that these guys are from Atlanta? Did you see my father while you were down there?”
WOW! That boy was still killing me, man! If it wasn't one thing it was another.
I said, “John, to be honest with you, the thought crossed my mind a while ago, man. But then I got wrapped up into doing this music project for you. But I'll go back down there and tell the reverend to think about visiting you. In fact, I'll drive my whole family to the church if I have to.”
I added, “Chelsea is starting to show now.”
John said, “That's beautiful, man. Is this one gonna be a girl, or a boy?”
I answered, “We don't know yet.”
He said, “Well, thanks, man. I was just thinking about my father lately.”
He sounded real poised, not extra excited or down. I guess that whatever new medicine they were using on him was working a little better.
I hung up the phone with John and shook my head. Now I had to see about Reverend Joseph Stark for him. My wife was right. I was carrying John's burden for real. I was running around for him even more than when I was managing. He had turned me into a desperate man.
I drove my whole family down to College Park to Reverend Stark's huge church, and we waited patiently before I had a moment to meet and talk to him. When I finally received the opportunity, I made sure that Chelsea and the kids were right there with me. I wanted to put Reverend Stark on the spot and make him respond to us in all earnestness. I knew he understood how important family was. How could he not understand? The Southern church was all about family.
Reverend Stark looked us over and said, “Welcome. Have you decided on joining our parish here today?”
I shook my head and said, “No, we haven't decided on that at all, Reverend.”
He asked us, “Well, how may we help you make that all-important decision. In other words, how may I serve you today?”
I was not planning on biting my tongue anymore. I wanted to take a page out of John's book and just tell it like it was.
I looked into Reverend Stark's handsome face and said, “You can serve us by visiting our sick loved one, John ‘Loverboy’ Williams, your son, up in the state of Maryland.”
The reverend didn't flinch an inch. He was still extra cool under pressure, just like his son was while up onstage.
He said, “I'm aware of that situation. I pray for him every night.”
I said, “Well, with all due respect, Reverend, John could use more than praying right now. He could use some real physical presence and love.”
Chelsea said, “Amen to that.”
The reverend looked at my whole family and nodded to us. He paid no one else any mind. I guess he planned to defuse things after we were gone.
He asked me, “How is he doing?”
I answered, “Not as good as he could be.”
“Well, allow me to give you my personal office number to call,” the reverend offered to us.
Chelsea spoke up and said, “We're not interested in your personal office number, we're interested in you serving love and responsibility to your estranged son. ”
Chelsea got under his armor of cool much faster than I could because he began to squirm with her words.
I backed my wife and said, “Amen. A real father should be a father, not only to his parish but to his seed. ”
My daughter, Imani, said, “Amen.” Even she caught on to our urgency that morning. We wanted results and not the empty promises.
Reverend Stark nodded and said, “I thank you all for coming out and informing me on this matter. And as I said, this situation will be taken care of in God's speed. ”
With that, his helpers stepped up to lead him away from us.
When we walked back out to the car, Chelsea was hot under the collar!
She said, “He's lucky I'm not ghetto, because he surely needs to be told about himself. See, that's why I'm not a blind Christian. The Word is being interpreted and preached by imperfect humans. And that Reverend Stark is a perfect example of why we need to keep our eyes open. They need to call his butt Reverend Slick. ”
Imani started giggling, and that made Darin Jr. laugh, when he had no idea what was going on. He just knew that his mother was hot at the moment!
I grinned and said, “That's what John called him.”
“That's what he is, ” my wife told me. She said, “And I'm not trying to make a blanket statement about pastors and the church, as if they're all bad, because they're not. But we all have to know what's right and what's wrong in our own hearts inside and outside of the church. And that goes across the board, because some of these white Southern pastors even had slaves at one time. And they didn't see a thing wrong with that. They worked and whipped their slaves Monday through Saturday, and then rested on Sundays.”
I smiled. I said, “I don't even think they rested then. They probably had their whole plantations helping out at the church on Sundays, fanning the congregation and such.”
I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit, you know. It was Sunday and we were all dressed to a tee. We had accomplished what we came to do, and the rest was out of our hands.
Chelsea said, “Well, I don't even wanna talk about it anymore. Put on that Just Say No! tape from the the Midnights.”
I put the tape on for her, and as soon as the song kicked in, Imani started humming along with the groove. I took that as a good sign.
I got a call later on that week from the organizers of the National Music Awards show about the Midnights performing John's new song. I was excited to hear back from them, but they wanted to use a more well known group to sing it. Ironically, they came up with Boyz II Men and Take 6, the creative gospel group. However, I stuck to my guns. The Midnights had done it the way it was supposed to be done, and I didn't want any lastminute changes, nor an artistic license battle. A more established group would more than likely want to change the song to fit their own style, and that was definitely not what I wanted. So I had to fight to keep the Midnights involved. John would have been proud of me.
The show organizers called me back and hinted that they might use the song performed by the Midnights, but their performance might not make the airtime show.
I said, “Absolutely not. We can't do this song for only the people in the audience. No way! You wouldn't do Boyz II Men like that!” I was upset that they even tried to play me like that. They knew how good that song was. Gospel or not, Just Say No! was a hit that the people would feel, and it would no doubt increase the show's ratings. Nevertheless, they were adamant about increasing the ratings more by giving the song and performance to someone more established.
I told Chelsea about it, and she was pretty calm for a change.
She said, “That's the way it goes sometimes, but that just means that they know it's a hit. So stick it out and tell them what you want. You'll get it. They already want to use it, they just want to see if you'll bend first.”
I took my wife's advice with some hesitation, but sure enough, we got the okay for the Midnights to perform John's song at the new millennium's first National Music Awards show. I was pumped! The first thing I did was get in contact with John to give him the good news.
They got him on the phone at the Maryland Adult Well House, and I ran down the good news to him.
He said, “That's good. I gotta get me a haircut and a shave now before the media starts trying to come in here and do interviews with me. And I won't say nothin' bad, man. I promise you, D.”
I told myself, Yeah, sure you won't. But I was too excited to sour the mood with that. I asked John to give me any words of wisdom to pass on to the Midnights before the big performance.
John said, “Yeah. You tell them niggas to own the stage. The stage is theirs when they're up there, D. And if you ain't gon' own it, then it ain't no sense in you being up there. And you don't share it with nobody. You tell 'em I said that.”
I passed the message on to the Midnights over the phone in Atlanta, and they were jumping for joy.
“He told us to do that? He told us to own the stage, Darin?”
I said, “Yeah.” It sounded like simple advice to me, you know. But coming from John “Loverboy” Williams, I guess it meant a lot more.
Man, when we got to the National Music Awards show out in California, I was nervous as I don't know what. I felt that way every time John stepped up to the next level, but he had always produced and set me back at ease. But now I was counting on the Midnights, and I was extra nervous again, as if I was starting all over in the music business.
The big names and new names that year were Sisqo, the return of Boyz II Men, Philadelphia's Jill Scott and No Question, Donell Jones, Next, Joe, Erykah Badu, Destiny's Child, Mya, Carl Thomas, Eric Benet. R. Kelly was back, as well as was Toni Braxton, and of course, Mary J. Blige was always there. Outside of that, you had a ton of rappers, led by the new-schooler Nelly, the overhype of Lil' Kim, the underhype of Mos Def and Common Sense, the West Coast Dr. Dre camp, the East Coast Def Jam camp, and the swarm from the Dirty South with Mystikal, the Big Tymers, the 504 Boys, the Three 6 Mafia, Scarface, Outkast . . . John had it right, rap music was taking over!
In fact, since there was so much presence from the hard-core rap acts at the awards show, I really began to worry about a gospel song being sandwiched right in the middle of all of that. But Chelsea reminded me that most of the rappers were wearing platinum crosses around their necks, so how could they front on gospel? I was still nervous, though. Everybody was hypocritical, and just because the rap crowd wore crucifixes around their necks, it didn't mean that they wanted to listen to any preaching. They did their own preaching, the gospel of the streets: pimping, drinking, smoking, murder, and self-destruction.
I made my way backstage before the big moment and reminded the Midnights what John had told me: Own the stage while you're up there!
I said, “I hate to put the heat on y'all like this, but this is a one-shot deal. You either live or you die out there. So you may as well go out there and go for broke.”
The lead singer, Sam Clean, took a breath and said, “I got you, man. Just remember to breathe, and take every note slow.”
I nodded to him and said, “Yeah. And just do your thing.”
Their manager looked more nervous than I was back there. I guess he had never been at that level before. However, if our song went over like it was supposed to, he had better get used to the pressure. And fast!
I took my seat between my wife and Tony's wife, and we held hands before the announcement.
To my surprise, they had Quincy Jones to come out and read it. Man, I nearly stopped breathing! QUINCY JONES WAS GOING TO ANNOUNCE JOHN'S SONG! I couldn't believe it! It was like a script written in heaven!
Chelsea nudged me and said, “Well, look at that. I told you everything would be all right.”
I didn't say a word. I was too much in shock.
Quincy Jones stood at the podium in an electric blue suit with a matching tie and said, “The field of music has historically produced some of the most heartfelt artists and creators in the African-American community, and those artists and their creations have gained worldwide recognition for their rhythm and soul.”
He said, “And as each generation produces its own legendary figures, we must not forget to honor the blues, the work songs, and the Negro spirituals from which our music has its roots. So without further ado, I present to you Just Say No!, a song written and arranged by this generation's John Loverboy Williams, performed by the Midnights.”
I leaned back and took one last deep breath. The curtains slid open to reveal the Midnights, dressed in all white, with the band behind them. The spotlight lit them up like black angels, and then Tony kicked off the song with his drums. Sam rolled in right behind him with the lyrics, and the band followed Sam's lead with his backup singers:
I took a look around the place after the first verse and chorus, and they were eating it up in there! They were feeling it! It was working! Their hushed silence allowed Sam Clean to open up with more confidence and volume for the second verse:
I took another look around, and we HAD THEM! The whole place was in SHOCK! All the wanna-be thugs and everyone else in there was nodding their heads like we were ALL in church! I looked at Chelsea and just started smiling. John had done it again, with a GOSPEL SONG! I even wondered if Sister Williams was watching from home that night.
By the time the Midnights reached the last verse and the vamp, lead singer Sam Clean appeared possessed by the spirit of Loverboy. Sam looked like he was ready to go solo up there. He came to the edge of the stage like John loved to do, and that's when I noticed the gold cross around his neck.
Perfect! Bring it on home! I thought to myself.
Sam went ahead to tear down the rest of the song, and everybody in that place:
Tears came down TO GOSPEL MUSIC in a SECULAR PLACE! The Midnights got a standing ovation for their excellent performance of John's song, and then a giant-sized screen came down with John's Street Life album, where he posed with dark shades and a walking stick as if he was blind. There wasn't a hater in that place! They all knew that John's music was special, and I was sure that the new song would only add to his legacy.
I couldn't wait to call John back up in Maryland! I had my cell phone ready.
I told Chelsea, “Let me go make this call,” and I wiped my eyes on the way out through the crowd. I was elated! But I had a hard time finding a spot that was quiet where I could talk. That place was rocking for like five minutes!
This one thugged-out-looking brother wearing a 504 Boys bandanna on his head came out wiping his eyes and just looked at me and shook his head.
He said, “Damn, dawg. That shit was . . . damn! But that's the way it is, though. You wish you could get rid of all this shit. You know, just say no to the motherfucker and it go away. You wish the shit was that simple. But it ain't, dawg. That shit just ain't simple like that.”
I laughed because I was happy that everyone felt it. I didn't even care how you chose to live your life at that moment, as long as you felt John's message. And I was sure that Big Joe was feeling it in his grave, too, laughing his behind off. That's that Loverboy shit right there, dawg!
After the crowd calmed down a bit, I was able to make my phone call to Maryland. It was a good thing they gave John special privileges there to keep his spirits up, because I could basically call there and get to talk to him any time that he was up and about.
John came to the phone in a hot minute and said, “I knew you'd be calling me, man. They did it up, D. They gave 'em a standing ovation. They had it on TV for like a minute. ”
I said, “They were giving you a standing ovation, man. They know who wrote this song. You saw your giant screen go up there, didn't you? How many people get honored like this at your age? You're only twenty-seven. They know this is your era. You da man, John! You da man! ”
He chuckled and said, “That's good, D. Now I can rest in peace. You went out there and did it.” He sounded pleased but uncertain.
I said, “What, you were worried that the song wouldn't hit like this? Man, I don't think you know your own power out here, John. I still don't think you know it. So when you want me to visit you again?”
He paused. He said, “Umm . . . whenever you want to, man. That's up to you.”
I said, “I'm coming to see you as soon as we get back from Cali then.”
He said, “Aw'ight. Come on wit' it. You da man, D! None of this would have happened without you,” he told me.
I couldn't wait to see him. I wanted to challenge him to write another song. I was so happy, man, that I felt like dancing back down the aisles.
I made it back to my wife and said, “John saw it! He saw it, and he's happy about it!”
Chelsea wiped her eyes for about the fourth time after the performance that night and said, “Good! And he deserves to feel happy.”