HEAVY R&B: THE DURABILITY OF KEITH SWEAT BY SHELDON TAYLOR

Verzuz' greatest moments occur when the spotlight shines on Black music legends of decades past. The recent Bobby Brown- Keith Sweat battle carries on that tradition. From viewer reaction and even without a major hit in years---the legend of both singers still burns brightly. 

Brown enjoys a higher profile---thanks to  much-documented trials, tribulations, and hard-fought triumphs compared to Sweat's flurry of press coverage (see September '92 Ebony Magazine piece "Can A Mailroom Clerk from The Projects Find Happiness and Stardom in 2 Atlanta Dream Houses?"). The Harlem crooner's pedigree lies not in a high-profile persona or across-the-board crossover moments, but in a catalog of durable hits standing the test of time. 

Usually linked to fellow New Jack Swing arbiter Teddy Riley, Keith Sweat is more than a seminal architect of R&B's future. He's also a throwback to its past. Born in '61 (or '56 if you do the interview math), Sweat models Michael Jackson's pivotal existence---old enough to digest R&B's classic era yet young enough to peer around its creative corner. 

While Luther hugged R&B's conventional curb, Sweat bridged the boulevard and boudoir, courtesy of Teddy Riley's block-rocking beats rumbling beneath his ballads and uptempo jams.  Although Alexander O'Neal and Freddie Jackson's 808s and heartbeats were first out the gate courtesy of songs like "Innocent", "Fake," "Jam Tonight" and "Love Is Just A Touch Away"---Sweat's compositions moved the needle a bit further.

Brushing aside Luther and Teddy comparisons, Sweat played his position as modern R&B's common-man. Instead of Vandross' controlled pageantry or Pendergrass' bluster--- Sweat employed a "begging" vocal approach that was a throwback to 70's standup vocal groups celebrated by Russell Simmons in his 2001 Life and Def memoir:

  People don't understand this but the falsetto, crying singers were the most ghetto singers back then. For all their talk of love, there was something pimp-like, manipulative and fly about that sound. Like one of my favorite records, the Delfonics' Hey Love where the lead singer is begging for that ass in a roof-scratching falsetto...."

Sweat's Make It Last Forever is considered New Jack Swing's inaugural debut, yet it featured all the trappings of the classic R&B of the decade. Free of the high/low "sophisticated" and "low-budget" sounds writer John Leland associated with other Riley layered productions---Make It Last plays it straight echoing the brilliant brevity of 1979's Off The Wall and 1980's Hotter Than July---not a musical moment is wasted.                                              

Featuring a potent mix of stellar ballads anchored by pristine lead/background vocals and elastic grooves containing elongated intros and breakdowns, the album became an instant classic in the vein of 80s love-man long players The Night I Fell In Love (1985),  Give Me The Reason (1986), Just Like The First Time (1986) and Heresay (1987).

Thirty-ish around the time of his '87  debut---Sweat arrived as the current R&B landscape was on the cusp of transition. Within six months, an industry turnover would take effect. Synergy between younger producers artists and audiences would point Black music towards a new direction. Rather than being swept away in transitional abyss, Sweat survived the undertow and rode a wave of consistency for three decades. 

Within Sweat's DNA ran strains of Black music's yesteryear. Roger's vocoder and Rick James's risque style turned up in his music. Plying his trade in a workman-like fashion, his prolific output mirrors the one-album-a-year rotation associated with late 70s/early 80s R&B bands like the Bar-Kays, Con Funk Shun, and the Gap Band. And like funk chameleons Cameo---whenever he dipped his toe deep in the waters of experimentation, his signature sound rose to the surface---always intact.  

Muscular grooves of early hits "Something Ain't Right" "Don't Stop Your Love", "I Want Her" all the way through to Silk's 1993 "Happy Days," 2002's "I Want You" and 2016's "Dressed To Impress"  are doused in the rumbling funk of  Slave's "Watching You" "Party Lights" and (Sweat remake) "Just A Touch of Love." Even Slave front man Steve Arrington's unique vocal signature closely resembled Sweat's nasal whine---a throwback to quirky off-kilter lead singers like the Bar-Kays Larry Dodson, the Gap Band's Charlie Wilson, Cameo's Larry Blackmon, and the Ohio Players' Sugarfoot Bonner. 

An anti-star from the jump, Sweat never harbored grand plans of industry takeover the way  Michael Jackson did. In a '88 Spin Magazine piece ("Real Sweat") his ambitions were modestly nonchalant---"I enjoy my music and I hope people enjoy it too." Although his future  catalog would indicate otherwise---Sweat tossed off ambitions of being a sex symbol---"That's not what I'm going for."

During the year of Sweat's '87 debut, rap god Rakim professed: "I can take a phrase that's rarely heard/ flip it---now it's a daily word." Sweat would do the same. Over the years, he'd musically absorb evolving slanguage of the times ( "Get Up On It" "Twisted", "I Put You On" "Come Get With Me") sidestepping older performers' awkward attempts to remain current. Displaying a fluid adaptability second only to LL Cool J---Sweat's efforts never seemed forced.

 

Neither were his many numerous collaborations. Decades before Charlie Wilson, Sweat enlisted the services of a galaxy of hip hop/ R&B  stars from Ron Isley, Erick Sermon, T-Boz and Busta Rhymes to Gerald Levert, David Hollister and Snoop Dog. When Wilson was on the sideline watching the New Jack parade that he helped birth go buy---Sweat reached back and pulled him in on '91's "Spend A Little Time" ("yo Charlie/show it where it all started from") planting the seeds for Wilson's miraculous comeback and current position as R&B's iron man.

Formidably autonomous---Sweat avoided the typical industry modus operandi. Instead of recruiting hot producers to give him hits---he created his own with a revolving team of collaborators. Following a decade of million-selling albums---the 1996 self-titled Keith Sweat album would four million copies by 2004--eight years after its release and nearly twenty years after Make It Last Forever's triple-platinum sales. For a time, only Sweat and R. Kelly operated in the rare air of contemporary R&B male vocalists in terms of career durability. 

 Possessing a deft adaptability like LL Cool J, Sweat moved with the times yet his music remained rooted in R&B. As a frustrated Gerald Levert labored to crack the code to wider acceptance and greater opportunity enjoyed by younger artists. Sweat happily remained in his  his creative cocoon---occasionally emerging to pen hit songs for others.

Moving easily between the slow and fast ones with the duality of the Isley Brothers, Teddy Pendergrass, and Alexander O'Neal---ballads would become the cornerstone of the Keith Sweat legend. Whether it was hits like "I Give All My Love To You" or "I'm Not Ready" or album cuts like "Put Your Lovin' To Test" or "Come Into My Bedroom," 

When hip-hop infiltrated R&B and cut the sensitivity lane off at the pass----Sweat hung on to his signature style that endeared him to the ladies. Importing lush, romantic and sensual ingredients immortalizing 70s/80s slow jams, 1994's "For You (You Got Everything)" even features creaking bed sounds as he pours on the seduction ('just let me lay you down"). 

Keeping with his classic soul roots---Sweat employed old-school signatures into his songs. 1974's "What's Come Over Me" and 1968s "La La Means I Love You" are all over  2008's "Somebody." On the track, Sweat even eases back into the falsetto of his Harlem club circuit days while channeling Blue Magic and Delfonics lead singers Ted "Wizard" Mills and William"Poogie" Hart. He unearths the Dramatics' 1971 "In The Rain," and tacks on the hook from the Stylistics' 1971 "You're A Big Girl" at the end of 1987's "Right And A Wrong Way." The aroma of Isley Brothers' "Choosey Lover" lingers from 2002's "One on One"

Sweat's masterful employment of the female vocal was another tool in his music arsenal. Primarily working with up-and-coming or unknown singers, this strategy bore instant fruit. "Make It Last Forever" and "Nobody" featuring Jackie McGee and Athena Cage became modern-day classics. Pairing up with Doni for "Can It Be," Sweat recreates Rick and Teena's torrid chemistry. Proteges Kut Klose shimmery vocals were featured prominently on "Get Up On It" and the massive #1 hit "Twisted." 

Keith Sweat's legacy is a lesson in staying power. As R&B moved through many chambers at the speed of light, his career evokes lyrics from David Ruffin's 1973 "Common Man":" I'll never change/ I'll never change one single grain of sand." Sometimes---less is more.