Today on The Progressive Underground‘s Liner Notes we dive into “Control” — the groundbreaking 1986 album from Janet Jackson that was more than a musical statement; it was a personal revolution.

Let’s rewind. Before “Control,” Jackson was known as a child actress, the youngest of the Jackson dynasty, with two lackluster albums under her belt —projects dictated by family expectations rather than artistic passion. But by 1985, at age 19, she had enough. She fired her father as her manager, annulled a brief and tumultuous marriage to James DeBarge, and took control — literally.

Enter Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, two producers fresh off their tenure with Prince and The Time. Their Minneapolis-based Flyte Tyme Studios became the war room where “Control” was crafted, far from the shadows of her family’s influence. It was here that Jackson found her voice — not just as a singer, but as a songwriter, a producer, and a force in pop culture.

Let’s kick it off with the title track — a bold, declarative mission statement that set the tone for everything that followed.

Track: “Control”

That was “Control,” the album opener and the thesis statement of Jackson’s new era. Over a bed of industrial-strength beats, punchy synths, and sharp stabs of funk, Jackson asserts her independence with the kind of conviction that turns a pop star into an icon.

Up next, the track that introduced Jackson’s “nasty” alter ego — born out of a real-life encounter with street harassment in Minneapolis. The song’s clattering percussion and aggressive funk arrangement were built on Jimmy Jam’s signature triplet swing beat, a precursor to New Jack Swing. It was brash, confrontational, and packed a feminist punch.

Track: “Nasty”

Jackson’s anti-catcalling anthem and its infectious “nasty boys” hook became a cultural touchstone, but beyond the groove, it was a battle cry. And speaking of battle cries, up next is the song that served as Jackson’s official break-up notice — not just to DeBarge, but to anyone who doubted her autonomy.

“What Have You Done for Me Lately” was originally a Jam and Lewis track for their own project, but once Jackson stepped in, she reshaped it into a no-nonsense declaration of self-worth. The punchy synth bassline, slinky groove, and icy-cool delivery made it an instant classic. Press play on this and feel the energy on this one.

Track: “What Have You Done for Me Lately”

“What Have You Done for Me Lately” reintroduced Jackson to the world —confident, independent, and with a new sonic identity.

Now, let’s switch gears. Amidst all the declarations of independence and fierce autonomy, “Control” also gave us “The Pleasure Principle.” Unlike the album’s other hits, this wasn’t a Jam and Lewis production — it was helmed by Monte Moir, another Minneapolis sound architect. The result is a sparse yet powerful track that showcased Jackson’s ability to command a song without needing a wall of production behind her.

And let’s not forget the music video — directed by Dominic Sena — where Jackson delivered an iconic solo dance performance, cementing her as one of the era’s premier visual artists. 

Track: “The Pleasure Principle”

“The Pleasure Principle” was an exercise in minimalism that still managed to hit like a sledgehammer.

Now, let’s step into something warmer, something more playful. “When I Think of You” was Control’s most carefree moment, and it became Janet’s first-ever No. 1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100. The track pulsed with an irresistible groove, blending R&B and pop into something light, joyful and infectious. 

Track: “When I Think of You”

“When I Think of You” offers a reminder that even in the midst of a creative and personal reinvention, Jackson still knew how to craft a perfect pop song. The album then takes a quick detour with “He Doesn’t Know I’m Alive,” an underrated gem penned by Spencer Bernard, another Minneapolis collaborator. It’s a snapshot of youthful infatuation, serving as a brief moment of softness.

Track: “He Doesn’t Know I’m Alive”

The next track finds Jackson at her most introspective. In an era where music was becoming more sexually explicit, she took a different approach urging patience, emotional depth and genuine connection. The track’s lush arrangement, warm synths, and hushed vocal delivery made it one of the most celebrated ballads of the decade.

Track: “Let’s Wait Awhile”

“Let’s Wait Awhile” resonated deeply with audiences and solidified Janet’s ability to balance power with vulnerability.

Looking back, “Control” wasn’t just an album — it was a cultural reset. It changed the way we saw Janet Jackson, catapulting her from a Jackson sibling to a generational voice. It established Jam and Terry as the most in-demand producers of their time, influencing everyone from New Edition to Boyz II Men to Beyoncé.

The album’s impact on MTV and music video culture was seismic. With the help of a then-unknown Paula Abdul, Jackson revolutionized pop choreography, setting the template for every artist who followed — Britney, Aaliyah, and Ciara.

Commercially, “Control” spent 65 consecutive weeks on the Billboard Hot 100 — a record-breaking run. It spawned five Top 5 singles, earned Jackson her first Grammy nominations, and ultimately sold over 10 million copies worldwide.

Most importantly, it gave a new generation of Black women in music a blueprint for self-determination. Artists like Missy Elliott, TLC, Beyoncé, and Rihanna all stand on the foundation “Control” built. So, nearly four decades later, what’s the takeaway?

“Control” was more than Jackson’s breakthrough — it was a revolutionary act of self-creation. It was proof that taking the reins of your own destiny isn’t just empowering — it’s unstoppable. We close with the album’s most delicate moments and most atmospheric track. Unlike anything else on the release, this song was pure mood — a smoky, jazz-infused lullaby that hinted at the deeper sensuality Jackson would explore in later albums. 

Track: “Funny How Time Flies (When You’re Having Fun)”

That was “Funny How Time Flies (When You’re Having Fun),” a dreamy, intimate closure to one of the most game-changing albums in pop and R&B history.

If you love deep dives into music that changed the game, be sure to tune into The Progressive Underground every Saturday at 6 p.m. on 101.9 WDET. This has been your edition of Liner Notes. For the Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell. We’ll see you next time. 

What’s happening Detroit? This week on The Progressive Undergound, my Pick of the Week comes from Carmen Johnson — aka Sillygirlcarmen — a promoter, producer, singer and DJ.

Johnson is a globetrotter, introducing notable venues everywhere to her brand of electronica steeped in the aesthetic and vibe of Detroit’s rich history with electronic music. She has a new single in collaboration with internationally-renowned DJ and producer Hallex M coming out March 14.

The pairing has produced a track that is sure to light up dance floors around the world. Let’s check out the track “Cold & Lonely” — my Pick of the Week.

“Cold & Lonely” officially releases on Friday March 14, 2025. Listen to a preview on Sillygirlcarmen’s Instagram or use the media player above to hear the full track.

If you dig electronic delights like this one, tune into The Progressive Underground where we take you through the worlds of deep house, future soul and more every Saturday evening at 6 p.m. on 101.9 WDET and wdet.org. For The Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell. See you next time.

More from The Progressive Underground:

• Tears for Fears’ sonic manifesto of the 1980s turns 40
• Pick of the Week (Mar. 1): ‘Your First Time’ by Erogenous
• The woman who gave soul its second wind: Remembering Angie Stone 

This week on Liner Notes, we step into the sonic universe of “Songs from the Big Chair,” the 1985 masterpiece from Tears for Fears that captured the complexities of human emotion, social unrest, and the shifting tides of the 1980s.

Formed by Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith, Tears for Fears emerged from the UK’s post-punk scene with an intellectual and emotionally raw take on pop music. Their debut album, The Hurting, introduced audiences to their psychologically introspective lyricism and synth-driven sound, but it was their sophomore effort, Songs from the Big Chair, that launched them into global superstardom. Drawing from Arthur Janov’s primal therapy theories and weaving in grand, cinematic production, the album blended new wave, pop, and progressive rock into anthems that defined a generation. Let’s dive in.

We begin with an anthem—both personal and political.

Track 1: “Shout”

Shout is more than a chorus-friendly singalong; it’s a primal call to arms against oppression and stagnation. Written by Orzabal, the track was initially about primal therapy, but it evolved into a broader message of resistance. That massive drumbeat? A mix of live drums and a LinnDrum machine, creating an industrial thunder that propels the track forward. Released as a single, Shout became a global phenomenon, cementing Tears for Fears as master songsmiths of cathartic pop. 

As Shout fades, we descend into “The Working Hour,” a track drenched in melancholic grandeur.

Track 2: “The Working Hour”

With a sultry saxophone intro by Mel Collins (of King Crimson fame) and dreamy piano chords, “The Working Hour” meditates on the soul-draining nature of corporate life. Orzabal’s soaring vocals, coupled with the track’s progressive structure, create an almost hypnotic journey.

Fun fact: This was one of the first tracks recorded for the album, setting the tone for its sophisticated sonic textures. 

Track 3: “Everybody Wants to Rule the World”

What happens when existential dread meets the perfect pop hook? “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” — an instant classic.

The song almost didn’t make the album, but producer Chris Hughes pushed for its inclusion. Its shuffle beat and shimmering guitar riff make it one of the most instantly recognizable songs of the 1980s. Beneath its breezy sound, the lyrics reflect Cold War anxieties, political greed, and the insatiable thirst for power. The song hit No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and remains an enduring cultural touchstone, appearing in countless films, shows and even video games. 

Now, we shift gears into the percussive urgency of “Mothers Talk.”

Track 4: “Mothers Talk”

Inspired by the UK government’s Cold War-era “Protect and Survive” campaign, “Mothers Talk” is a jittery, high-energy warning of nuclear threats. Featuring unconventional vocal effects and layered synth textures, it was Tears for Fears at their most experimental. The track was actually released as a single a year before the album dropped, with a reworked version later appearing on the U.S. release.

After the storm of that track, we arrive at one of the album’s most intimate moments.

Track 5: “I Believe”

“I Believe” strips away the dense production for a raw, emotionally rich ballad, showcasing Orzabal’s love for jazz legend Robert Wyatt. The minimalist arrangement allows the vocals to shine, a stark contrast to the grandiosity of the album’s other tracks. It’s a moment of vulnerability in an otherwise epic album, proving that sometimes, simplicity is the most powerful tool. 

Now we move into the shortest track on the album. 

Track 6: “Broken”

“Broken” is a sonic bridge between past and present. Originally written during “The Hurting” sessions, it serves as an instrumental prelude to the next track, with pulsating synths and haunting guitar lines setting an ominous tone. This seamless transition showcases the band’s ability to weave interconnected narratives within their albums.  

We now get into a defining moment of “Songs from the Big Chair” — “Head Over Heels,” an emotional whirlwind wrapped in cinematic production. Lyrically, it’s a story of obsession, desire, and longing, played out over grand piano chords and layered harmonies. The track’s soaring chorus and dramatic structure made it an instant fan favorite, peaking at No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100. 

Track 7: Head Over Heels / Broken (Live Reprise)

Released on Feb. 25, 1985, Songs from the Big Chair was a commercial and critical triumph. It topped the U.S. Billboard 200, went multi-platinum, and spawned some of the most iconic tracks of the decade. But beyond the accolades, the album stands as a testament to Tears for Fears’ ambition, artistry, and ability to translate deep psychological themes into universally relatable music.

With its fusion of introspection and anthemic power, “Songs from the Big Chair” didn’t just define the sound of 1985 — it became a timeless reflection of human nature, the struggle for control, and the search for meaning in an ever-changing world. Even today, its themes resonate, making it a cornerstone of both new wave and pop history.

We close with Listen, an atmospheric, meditative piece that dissolves the boundaries of traditional song structure.

Track 8: “Listen”

Ethereal synths, ghostly vocals, and an almost cinematic feel give “Listen” a haunting beauty. Lyrically sparse but emotionally charged, it leaves the listener in a state of reflection — a fitting finale to an album that explored the depths of human emotion and societal tension.

If you love deep musical dives like this one, tune in to The Progressive Underground every Saturday evening at 6 p.m. on 101.9 WDET.

Roy Ayers was more than music. He was a frequency, a wavelength, a pulse embedded in the DNA of Black cool. And if you were a Black kid growing up in Detroit — where his sound was pushed and heavily promoted on Black radio — then Ayers was as much a part of your upbringing as coney dogs, Belle Isle summers, and Saturday morning car washes in the driveway.

His music was the soundtrack to a warm summer night. It hummed from open windows, spilled from boomboxes on front porches, and pulsed through Cadillac speakers rolling slow down Woodward. And now, the maestro has left the stage. Ayers died on Thursday in New York City at the age of 84 after battling a long illness.

The first time I heard Roy

I don’t remember the exact moment I first heard Roy Ayers — his music was just there, like sunlight or the hum of streetlights at dusk. But I do remember the first time I understood why his music mattered.

I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, riding in my uncle’s Cutlass Supreme. He turned up WJZZ, and suddenly, those golden keys and cosmic chords filled the car: “Everybody loves the sunshine…”

The warmth of that song hit like a July afternoon, like fresh-cut grass and melted ice cream. It was Blackness distilled into sound. It was the sonic manifestation of our joy, our pain, our resilience. Ayers sang AND spoke to us, through shimmering vibraphone notes that floated like incense in the air.

The architect of vibes

Musically speaking, Ayers was a builder of worlds. In the 1960s, he stood at the crossroads of jazz, soaking in the brilliance of icons like Lionel Hampton and Herbie Mann. But he wasn’t content to stay in one lane. He saw the future of Black music before the rest of the world caught up.

With Roy Ayers Ubiquity, he stretched the boundaries of jazz — fusing it with funk, soul, R&B, and an unmistakable cosmic spirituality. He saw that jazz wasn’t just about technical mastery; it was about feel, about translating human experience into rhythm and melody.

His music had a pulse, a body-moving urgency. “Running Away,” “Searchin’,” “Love Will Bring Us Back Together” — these were anthemic jazz-funk grooves of liberation and blueprints for a new Black sound. Ayers gave jazz its hips and he made it dance.

Seeing him live — a revelation

If you grew up in Detroit during the ‘70s and ‘80s, you lived his music. WJZZ, the city’s legendary jazz station, kept him in heavy rotation and made sure that tracks like “Mystic Voyage,” “We Live in Brooklyn, Baby,” “You Send Me,” and other choice selects from his discography were part of our daily sonic diet.

But hearing him on the radio was one thing. Seeing him live? That was a completely different experience. I had the privilege of either catching him live or hosting and introducing him numerous times at various venues.

He loved performing in Detroit and felt at home here musically. And with every show, he would pull you into the music and make you a part of it. His stage presence and musicianship, especially during his Ubiquity days, were effortless and special. He had this way of making a venue — whether a packed amphitheater or an intimate jazz club — feel like a warm family reunion in your living room, and you had no option but to vibe with him.

“Roy Ayers was a frequency shifter, a man who understood that music is more than notes and chords, and at its core, is meant to move you. And now, he belongs to the ancestors.”

The hip-hop connection

Ayers’ genius didn’t fade with time. In fact, he became even more relevant as hip-hop ascended. His catalog became a treasure trove for producers and MCs who recognized the richness of his grooves.

A Tribe Called Quest, Pete Rock, Mary J. Blige, J Dilla, Digable Planets — so many architects of hip-hop’s golden age studied Roy Ayers, flipping his beats, chopping his melodies, breathing new life into his rhythms.

To this day, you can hear his DNA in the music of Kendrick Lamar, Flying Lotus, Robert Glasper and countless lo-fi producers who use his vibraphone-laced sound as a spiritual compass.

And here’s the thing — Roy never tripped about being sampled. He loved it. He wanted his music to live on, to mutate and evolve. He once told me after one of his shows that “music is supposed to be shared, that’s what keeps it alive.”

Vibes never die

Roy Ayers was a frequency shifter, a man who understood that music is more than notes and chords, and at its core, is meant to move you. And now, he belongs to the ancestors.

It’s hard to imagine a world without Roy Ayers, but then again, we don’t have to. His music will always be here, humming through late-night DJ sets, spilling from open windows, reverberating in the headphones of kids who weren’t even born when he first picked up the vibraphone.

Tonight, I’m doing what feels right — I’m pulling out his catalog. I’ll start with Mystic Voyage, let it wash over me like it always does. Then I’ll move forward, then move backward, let the music take me where it always has — because with Roy, time never moved in a straight line anyway.

Everything else can wait.

Because while we say goodbye to the man, the music? That’s eternal. Roy once told us that “Everybody Loves the Sunshine.” And even now, even in the sadness of his passing, the light of his music continues to shine and refuses to dim. Rest in rhythm, legend.

This week on The Progressive Underground we’re tuning into a blend of deep, jazzy soulful house and neo soul by the dynamic electronic duo of Tim Ellerbee and Diamond Davis, otherwise known as Erogenous. 

Since forming Erogenous in 2021, Ellerbee and Davis have been captivating audiences around the region. They dropped an album titled “Ebb & Flow,” which has achieved several million streams across various platforms.

Erogenous brings a high energy blend of soulful melodies and pulsating house that combines deep grooves with elegant, nuanced sensuality. We’ll check out one of the cuts from the album as we listen to the track “Your First Time,” which is my Pick of the Week.

And that was the hot tune “Your First Time,” from the Detroit-based duo Erogenous.

If you dig deep dance and soulfully groovy electronic tracks like this, tune into The Progressive Underground every Saturday at 6p.m. on 101.9 WDET, or stream on wdet.org. We’ll take you down a gorgeous rabbit hole of electronica and various genres like future soul, nu-jazz, b-sides and rare grooves. For The Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell. See you next time.

More from The Progressive Underground:

• Chris Jasper: The unsung architect of the Isley Brother’s iconic sound
• Roberta Flack: The quiet fire who gave love its soundtrack
• Pick of the Week (Feb. 24): ‘Play (Like We Used To)’ by Dean Beanz

Angie Stone’s voice was always more than a sound — it was an emotion, a truth-teller, a vessel for love, pain, and survival. She sang with the wisdom of someone who had lived, who had seen and felt it all, and who, through her music, was determined to help others feel less alone. Hers was a voice that carried the weight of Black womanhood — its joys, its burdens, its victories — wrapped in melodies that resonated deep in the marrow of the soul.

On Saturday, the world lost more than just a singer in a tragic car crash. We lost a cornerstone of modern soul music, a woman whose legacy stretches across decades, genres and generations. Angie Stone was the bridge — between hip-hop and soul, between past and future, between the raw and the refined. Her impact on music is immeasurable, her influence undeniable.

The birth of a pioneer: The Sequence and hip-hop’s earliest days

Before she became a soul icon, Angie Stone was a hip-hop pioneer. Long before the world knew her sultry alto, she was spitting rhymes as a member of The Sequence, one of the first female rap groups in history. Their 1979 hit “Funk You Up” wasn’t just a song — it was a statement. The Sequence helped carve out space for women in hip-hop before the genre even knew what it could be. Without The Sequence, there’s no Salt-N-Pepa, no Queen Latifah, no Nicki Minaj.

Even then, Stone’s artistry was ahead of its time. She was a visionary, blending rhythm and poetry in ways that would later become standard in neo-soul. Her ability to move seamlessly between rapping and singing would set the foundation for her future career — one that would redefine soul music at the turn of the millennium.

The soul revival: Vertical Hold and the birth of a sound

In the early ’90s, Stone stepped into the world of contemporary R&B with Vertical Hold, a group that saw her transition from hip-hop to the layered, groove-heavy sound that would later define her solo career. Their hit “Seems You’re Just Too Busy” showcased Stone’s knack for storytelling, her ability to make the everyday feel profound.

But Stone wasn’t meant to be confined to a group. Her voice, her pen, her essence — they all needed a stage of their own. And when she stepped out as a solo artist, the game changed.

‘Black Diamond’: A new dawn for soul music

In 1999, ‘Black Diamond’ arrived like a revelation. At a time when mainstream R&B was chasing glossy, radio-friendly hits, Stone brought back depth, texture and raw emotion. The album was a masterclass in storytelling, with Stone’s honeyed vocals pouring over warm, live instrumentation, giving us a new language for love and longing.

Her breakout hit, “No More Rain (In This Cloud),” was a masterpiece of resilience, flipping a sample of Gladys Knight’s “Neither One of Us” into a declaration of emotional survival. This wasn’t just heartbreak music — it was healing music.

Her sound, her aesthetic, her approach to music would later be grouped under the neo-soul banner, a movement led by artists like D’Angelo, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott and Maxwell. But make no mistake — Angie Stone was one of its architects.

‘Mahogany Soul’: An undeniable legacy

If ‘Black Diamond’ announced her arrival, 2001’s ‘Mahogany Soul’ cemented her status as a force in contemporary soul music. With songs like “Brotha” — an unapologetic ode to Black men — and “Wish I Didn’t Miss You,” which turned a Rolling Stones sample into one of the most gut-wrenching heartbreak anthems of the 2000s, Stone proved that her music was both timeless and timely.

‘Mahogany Soul’ was a statement of identity, a love letter to Black love, Black struggle, Black endurance. This was music that healed, that affirmed, that reminded its listeners of their inherent beauty and worth.

A songwriter’s Hall of Fame career

Beyond her own music, Stone’s pen was legendary. She had a hand in shaping some of R&B’s most defining moments, writing for artists across the spectrum, from D’Angelo (yes, she played a role in Brown Sugar’s magic) to Mary J. Blige, Raphael Saadiq and Lenny Kravitz.

Her ability to craft lyrics that cut straight to the soul eventually earned her a place in the Songwriters Hall of Fame — a long-overdue recognition for an artist whose pen was just as powerful as her voice.

‘Stone Love,’ ‘The Art of Love & War,’ and the 2000s soul renaissance

Through the 2000s, Stone continued delivering music that spoke to the full spectrum of love and life.

• 2004’s ‘Stone Love’ saw her lean into sensuality and groove, blending classic influences with contemporary production.
• 2007’s ‘The Art of Love & War’ earned her a No. 1 album on the Billboard R&B charts, proving that even as the industry evolved, Stone’s voice remained essential.
• 2012’s ‘Rich Girl’ and 2015’s ‘Dream’ saw her expanding her sound while staying true to the warmth and depth that made her music a refuge for so many.

Beyond music: Advocacy and impact

Stone’s impact wasn’t limited to the studio. She was a fierce advocate for diabetes awareness, speaking openly about her own struggles with the disease and working to educate the Black community about health and wellness.

She also mentored younger artists, offering wisdom that only someone who had seen every side of the industry could provide. She had a deep knowledge of the music business, understanding that music was bigger than record sales — it was about telling truth and touching lives.

A final bow, a lasting echo

Stone’s music was like a well-worn book — pages full of wisdom, love and survival that we turned to time and time again. She sang our stories, the ones we lived and the ones we were still learning to navigate. Her voice carried the weight of experience, yet it wrapped itself around us like an old friend, always knowing exactly what to say.

But storytellers like her don’t fade away. Their words, their melodies, their spirit settle into the cultural mosaic of our lives, playing on long after they’re gone. Stone’s music will always be there — on late-night drives, on Sunday mornings, in the quiet moments when we need it most.

So when “Wish I Didn’t Miss You” comes on, let it be more than a song — let it be a reminder that she’s still here, in every note, in every lyric, in every heart she ever touched.

Rest well, Angie. Your song will never stop playing.

When we talk about the architects of soul— the visionaries who sculpted the very essence of R&B, funk, and quiet storm— the conversation too often recycles the same revered names. Marvin. Stevie. Prince. But let’s be clear: If we are to have an honest discussion about the bedrock of modern soul music, then we must carve out space and demand a seat at that hallowed table for the late, great Chris Jasper.

The keyboard wizard. The sonic visionary. The man whose fingers danced across the keys and, in the process, laid the foundation for some of the most enduring music at the height of the soul music era of the 1970s. Jasper, who passed away Monday at the age of 72, was the musical heartbeat of the Isley Brothers during the most celebrated run of their era-defining sound.

From Cincinnati to Juilliard: The making of a maestro

Born Christopher H. Jasper on December 30, 1951 in Cincinnati, Ohio, he was a prodigy from the start. Raised in a musically rich household, Jasper found his calling early, mastering classical piano and absorbing the intricacies of jazz and gospel. That foundation set him apart, giving him a depth of harmonic and compositional knowledge that would later revolutionize the sound of the Isley Brothers.

Jasper’s path was intertwined with the Isley family from a young age. He grew up playing music with Ernie and Marvin Isley, bonding over their shared passion for rhythm, blues, and experimentation. Their chemistry was undeniable, and as they came of age, it was only a matter of time before they’d become part of something much bigger than themselves.

Before he would change the course of R&B history, Jasper sharpened his skills at two of the world’s most prestigious institutions: the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music and Juilliard School in New York. That formal training, combined with the soul of the church and the grit of the streets, gave him a sound that was equal parts refined and raw— sophisticated, yet deeply funky.

The genius behind the groove

In 1973, the Isley Brothers expanded from a trio to a full-fledged band, bringing in the younger generation—Ernie Isley on lead guitar, Marvin Isley on bass, and Chris Jasper on keyboards. This shift didn’t just add players; it transformed their entire musical identity.

On keys, Jasper orchestrated a new sonic era, bringing in jazz-inspired chord progressions, classically influenced arrangements, and a futuristic approach to synthesizers that would define the Isley Brothers’ golden years.

Listen to “For the Love of You”, and you’ll hear Jasper’s celestial keyboard washes turning a simple love song into a spiritual experience. “Between the Sheets”? That’s his synth-laden magic, his mastery of atmosphere and sensuality defining what a slow jam could be. And don’t even get me started on “Footsteps in the Dark”—a record so hauntingly beautiful that hip-hop had no choice but to immortalize it when Ice Cube flipped it into “It Was a Good Day”.

Jasper was a composer, a songwriter, an arranger and the driving force behind classics like “Harvest for the World”, “Groove with You”, “Let’s Fall in Love”, and “The Highways of My Life”. These tunes were more than just songs. They were statements, blending social consciousness with lush musicality, making the Isley Brothers one of the most versatile groups of their time.

Beyond the Isleys: A legacy of excellence

When Jasper, along with Ernie and Marvin Isley, parted ways with the original trio in 1984, they formed Isley-Jasper-Isley. The result? “Caravan of Love”—a song that became a generational anthem, later covered by the Housemartins and used as a rallying cry for unity and hope.

Jasper’s solo career was just as prolific. His commitment to real musicianship never wavered, and he continued to produce and release music under his own name for decades. His albums carried the same meticulous craftsmanship and deep spirituality that defined his work with the Isleys.

Unlike many of his contemporaries, Jasper never chased trends nor was he concerned about grabbing any mainstream spotlight. He stayed true to the essence of what made his music resonate: sophisticated compositions, rich harmonies, and a relentless pursuit of sonic excellence.

The sound that will never die

Greatness is measured by impact, and Chris Jasper’s impact on music is beyond dispute. His contributions are embedded in the DNA of R&B, in the samples that fuel hip-hop classics, and in the textures that still define contemporary neo-soul.

And when you listen to an Isley Brothers record from the Jasper era—it lingers in your spirit and reminds you of a time when music wasn’t just about selling records, but about elevating consciousness. About moving people. About crafting something that would outlive the moment.

That was Chris Jasper’s gift. As long as love needs a melody and groove still demands a heartbeat, then the spirit of Chris Jasper will never fade. Rest easy, maestro.

Noted soul music icon Roberta Flack has transitioned at age 88, leaving behind a legacy of music that defined the human condition and defied time and genre. 

For many kids like me who grew up in the 1970s, Roberta Flack’s voice felt like a secret. Not the kind whispered in the dark, but the kind that stays with you long after the moment has passed — settling into your bones, shaping the way you remember love, loss and longing. She didn’t chase the spotlight, didn’t rely on spectacle. Instead, she let her voice do what only the greatest artists can: slow time, turn a lyric into lived experience and make the quiet parts of life feel just as powerful as the loud ones.

Her music arrived at a moment when soul was reaching for the rafters — big voices, bold deliveries, everything at full tilt. And yet, here was Flack, sitting at a piano, unspooling melodies with the patience of someone who knew that real feeling can’t be rushed. 

One of her first big hits, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” climbed the charts and wrapped itself around the hearts of anyone who had ever been stopped in their tracks by love. “Killing Me Softly with His Song” was more than a hit — it was a testament to the way music itself can reach into you, pull you under and hold you there. This was the gift she gave the world, and today, as we mourn her passing, we also celebrate the way her music continues to hold us still.

A classical foundation, a soulful legacy

Flack’s journey began in Black Mountain, N.C. in 1937, and by 15, she was already breaking barriers. Accepted to Howard University on a full music scholarship, she studied classical piano with dreams of becoming a concert pianist. But the world had different plans. That classical training — years of disciplined study, of learning the emotional weight of every note — infused her approach to soul, jazz and pop. She played the piano not as an accompaniment, but as an extension of her storytelling, crafting songs with the precision of a composer and the depth of a poet.

Her debut album, First Take, introduced a different kind of soul — one rooted in patience, in the tension between sound and silence. When Clint Eastwood used “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” in ‘Play Misty for Me,’ it wasn’t just background music. It was the emotional core, a song that was so subtly nuanced that it commanded your attention. That was Flack’s brilliance — she didn’t need to shout for you to feel her.

The Donny Hathaway connection

No conversation about Flack is complete without Donny Hathaway. Their duets — “Where Is the Love?,” “The Closer I Get to You,” “Back Together Again” — weren’t just collaborations, they were conversations. Two voices, locked in a slow dance, giving us a masterclass in what musical chemistry should sound like.

Hathaway was her creative soulmate, his voice a perfect counterpart to hers — rich, warm, endlessly expressive. But his struggle with mental illness was a weight he couldn’t escape. When he died in 1979, it was more than a personal loss for Flack. It was the loss of a sound, a partnership that felt predestined. She carried on, but you could hear the ache of his absence in the music that followed.

Timeless songs, timeless influence

Flack never followed trends, yet her music never felt dated. She gave us “Feel Like Makin’ Love,” a song so effortlessly sensual it became a blueprint for R&B ballads that followed. She brought elegance to pop with “Tonight, I Celebrate My Love” alongside Peabo Bryson. And with “Killing Me Softly with His Song,” she created an anthem that would resonate across generations, later reimagined by Lauryn Hill and the Fugees — a testament to the enduring weight of her artistry.

Her sound was jazz, was folk, was gospel, was classical. It was everything, all at once, but always unmistakably hers.

A voice silenced, a legacy that endures

In 2022, ALS — amyotrophic lateral sclerosis — took away the instrument that had defined her life. ALS is a ruthless disease, stripping away muscle control, robbing the body of its ability to move, to speak, to sing. It forced Flack into retirement, but it could never take away what she had already given us.

Her music remains. The intimacy she created, the moments she soundtracked, the quiet fire she ignited in every note — those things don’t fade. She showed us that soul isn’t always about volume, that love songs don’t need excess, that true artistry is about knowing exactly when to let the music breathe.

The soundtrack of love and life

There are voices that shake the room, and then there are voices that change the air in the room itself. Roberta Flack was the latter. Her songs were never just heard; they were felt, stitched into the fabric of love stories, heartbreaks, stolen moments and slow dances.

She may be gone, but her voice? Her impact? That lingers, like the final note of a song that refuses to fade. Put on “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” tonight. Let it remind you that some voices never truly leave us.

This week’s pick is a tribute to timeless artistry.

Dean Beanz, a Detroit producer, musician, and artist, has been a creative force and cornerstone of the city’s music scene for decades. Known as a renaissance man with an eclectic perspective, Beanz has shaped and influenced generations of Detroit music with his unique blend of styles and relentless creativity.

His latest track, “Play (Like We Used To),” is a nostalgic ride back to the golden age of hip-hop — a time when beats were lush, grooves were undeniable, and storytelling reigned supreme. This throwback gem is more than just a song; it’s a love letter to an era that shaped the sound of a movement. With soulful production and impeccable storytelling, Beanz reminds us why that era remains iconic and why his influence continues to ripple through the Detroit music scene.

Let’s vibe out to “Play (Like We Used To)” — my Pick of the Week.

That was Dean Beanz with “Play (Like We Used To)” — a track that blends nostalgia with mastery, taking us back to a time when hip-hop was raw, real and resonant.

If you’re into progressive, eclectic hip-hop sounds like this, make sure you tune in to The Progressive Underground every Saturday at 6 p.m. on 101.9 WDET. From future soul to nu-jazz, b-sides to rare grooves, we’ve got your musical journey covered.

For The Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell. Until next time, keep the beats timeless, the vibes fresh, and your soul tuned to the music that moves you.

Read more from The Progressive Underground:

• Pick of the Week (Feb. 17): ‘Treat Me Right’ by Carl Bias feat. Miyan Bryant
• Pick of the Week (Feb. 10): ‘Aurora’s Light’ by Kathy Kosins
• Exploring the evolution of maestro Zo! in 5 tracks

This week’s pick is a powerhouse connection of Chicago’s legendary producer Carl Bias and Detroit’s own electronic songbird, Miyan Bryant. These two icons of electronic music have teamed up to create a track that’s pure magic. Released on AO Records, “Treat Me Right” brings together the best of Chicago’s deep house grooves and Detroit’s soulful electronic vibes—a collision of two iconic scenes that’s nothing short of electrifying.

Let’s get into it. Here’s “Treat Me Right”—my Pick of the Week.

That was Carl Bias featuring Miyan Bryant with “Treat Me Right”— a masterclass in deep house perfection.

If tracks like this get your pulse racing, make sure to lock in to The Progressive Underground every Saturday at 6 p.m. on 101.9 WDET. From techno and deep house to future soul and rare grooves, we’re the soundtrack to your weekend.

For The Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell. Until next time, stay tuned, stay soulful, and keep your vibe elevated.

Read more from The Progressive Underground:

• Pick of the Week (Feb. 10): ‘Aurora’s Light’ by Kathy Kosins
• Exploring the evolution of maestro Zo! in 5 tracks
• Pick of the Week (Feb. 3): ‘Silence’ by Angelina Cara

This week’s pick comes from an absolute legend in the game — Kathy Kosins.

An internationally renowned songstress with a career that spans genres and decades, Kathy has worked with icons like Was (Not Was), Slingshot, and Michael Henderson. Whether she’s fronting Detroit Centrix alongside bassist Paul Randolph or carving her path as a celebrated jazz vocalist, Kosins always delivers something extraordinary.

Her latest single, “Aurora’s Light,” is a masterclass in nu-jazz elegance. This track finds Kosins leaning deep into her jazz roots while infusing her signature soulful touch. The result? A mesmerizing soundscape that radiates warmth and sophistication. Let’s dive in and soak up the brilliance.

If smooth, boundary-pushing nu-jazz like this hits your sweet spot, be sure to tune in to The Progressive Underground every Saturday at 6 p.m. on 101.9 WDET. We’re your destination for the best in future soul, nu-jazz, b-sides, and rare grooves.

For The Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell. See you next time, where the beats always stay fresh, and the vibes never stop.

Read more from The Progressive Underground:

• Exploring the evolution of maestro Zo! in 5 tracks
• The Progressive Underground Pick of the Week (Feb. 3): ‘Silence’ by Angelina Cara
• The mystique and mastery of D’Angelo’s ‘Voodoo’

This week on The Progressive Underground, we spotlight a metro Detroit gem: Angelina Cara.

She’s an independent singer, songwriter, and visual artist who has carved a reputation for seamlessly blending folk, jazz, R&B, and electronica into lush, immersive soundscapes. Her music paints vivid sonic textures, full of rich harmonies and soaring melodies that defy genre boundaries.

Her latest single, “Silence,” showcases her intricate electronic craftsmanship and artistic versatility. It’s a captivating piece highlighting why she’s becoming a standout voice in Detroit’s vibrant music scene. So without further ado, let’s dive into “Silence,” my Pick of the Week.

If you’re into silky, genre-fluid electronica like this, don’t miss The Progressive Underground every Saturday at 6 p.m. on 101.9 WDET. We bring you the best in electronica, future soul, b-sides, and rare grooves. For The Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell. See you next time.

Read more from The Progressive Underground:

• The Progressive Underground Pick of the Week (Jan. 25): ‘I Don’t Know Why’ by Paul Hill & Mike ‘Agent X’ Clark
• The mystique and mastery of D’Angelo’s ‘Voodoo’
• The sonic odyssey of Ideeyah

Zo! is a Detroit-born, now DC-based multi-instrumentalist, producer, and composer who has helped to reshape modern soul, R&B, and jazz with his innovative approach.

Heavily influenced by the sonic adventures of music producers like the Mizell Brothers, Zo! excelled at music during his formative years while balancing his love of baseball and drive to pursue an education. Zo! began his recording career with the album “Ablyss”, the first in a series of instrumental releases. He would soon become an in-demand producer and beatmaker, collaborating with artists such as Little Brother, Slum Village and Platinum Pied Pipers while earning a Master’s Degree in Special Education.

Zo!’s breakthrough would come through his association with the group The Foreign Exchange. He regularly collaborated with the group’s founders, Nicolay Rook and Phonte Coleman, and he would eventually become a part of the collective, serving as TFE’s musical director while signed to the Foreign Exchange’s record label.

5 Essential Tracks by Zo!

1. “Flight of the Blackbyrd” – Zo!

With lush keyboard layers, tight rhythm sections and vibrant melodies, Zo!’s 2010 album “Sunstorm” reflected his deep admiration for the Mizell Brothers, known for their groundbreaking work with Donald Byrd, another native Detroiter who made waves in the music industry decades before.

Zo!’s ability to reinterpret jazz funk with a contemporary flair is evident in the next track. It’s taken from his 2013 release “ManMade” which saw him cementing his place in jazz fusion and progressive soul music while earning critical acclaim. The track features the vocals of Georgia native, now Los Angeles-based soul chanteuse Gwen Bunn along with Phonte Coleman.

2. “Count to Five” – Zo! (feat. Gwen Bunn, Phonte)

Featuring collaborations with artists like Jeanne Jolly and Eric Roberson, “ManMade” demonstrated Zo!’s range as a producer, and his tracks melded hypnotic rhythms with intricate productions that drew on various funk and electronic influences.

Sticking with this same album, we’ll explore a high-energy collaboration with Eric Roberson and Phonte. This track captures the feel-good essence of Zo!’s music, driven by dynamic horn arrangements, a tight rhythm section, and lyrics that celebrate joy and forward momentum. It remains a highlight in his live performances, connecting audiences through its infectious spirit.

3. “We Are on the Move” – Zo! (feat. Eric Roberson, Phonte)

By the time “We Are On the Move” was released, Zo! was known as one of the most versatile producers in the industry and a leading voice in modern soul, following in the footsteps of various other multi-instrumentalist music innovators like Leon Sylvers III, and the Mizells.

Our next track comes from Zo!’s 2016 album release “Skybreak,” a stunning exploration of themes of love and resilience as he takes listeners on an immersive and introspective sonic journey into matters of the heart.

4. “Lifelines” – Zo! (feat. Dornik)

Zo!’s penchant for cinematic music productions and excellent storytelling have garnered him production credits and/or co-writing music production credits on various film projects and soundtracks such as the IFC network’s “Sherman’s Showcase” and the wildly popular animated series “Black Dynamite”. He most recently has enjoyed another noted collaboration with Terrell Wallace, aka Tall Black Guy, as they released the 2021 work “Abstractions,” which also featured appearances from the usual roster of Foreign Exchange members and associates. Zo! and Tall Black Guy have extensively toured together  alongside Washington DC-based songbird Deborah Bond, garnering universally positive reviews.

From his beginnings as a Metro Detroit-based instrumentalist to becoming a vital member of The Foreign Exchange collective to his collaborative work as a multi-faceted music producer/artist, Zo! has continually helped to redefine the landscape of soul, R&B, and jazz through his blend of timeless musicianship with a progressive edge, reaffirming his standing as one of this era’s most versatile musical craftsmen.

We’ll conclude this segment with “On the Four,” which features the vocals of noted Dallas-based songstress and The Foreign Exchange associate Carmen Rodgers.

5. “On the Four” – Zo! (feat. Carmen Rodgers)

We hope you enjoyed getting to know Zo! in 5 songs. For more musical journeys like this, tune into The Progressive Underground every Saturday at 6 on 101.9 WDET or stream online at wdet.org. You’ll thank us later for the soulful music discoveries that we dig up just for you.

More from The Progressive Underground:

• The Progressive Underground Pick of the Week (Jan. 25): ‘I Don’t Know Why’ by Paul Hill & Mike ‘Agent X’ Clark
• The sonic odyssey of Ideeyah
• The mystique and master of D’Angelo’s ‘Voodoo’

Today, we’re shining a spotlight on two of Detroit’s most underrated musical innovators — Paul Hill and Mike ‘Agent X’ Clark. 

Hill, a member of the legendary Parliament-Funkadelic collective and a collaborator with Mahogani Music, is renowned in funk and soul circles for his dynamic vocal artistry. Meanwhile, Clark has been a cornerstone of Detroit’s underground electronic music scene, celebrated for his masterful production and deep connection to the city’s house and techno heritage.

Together, they’ve fused their unique talents to create a track that’s pure magic. “I Don’t Know Why” seamlessly combines Clark’s atmospheric, syncopated four-on-the-floor beats with Hill’s soulful and emotive vocal hooks. The result? A deep, soulful house anthem that’s guaranteed to fill dance floors and move your spirit.

If soulful house grooves like this speak to you, make sure to lock in with The Progressive Underground every Saturday at 6 p.m., right here on 101.9 WDET and streaming worldwide at wdet.org. We explore a world of electronica, future soul, deep house, nu-jazz, b-sides, and rare grooves you won’t hear anywhere else.

For The Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell. Until next time, stay soulful, stay curious, and keep vibing.

Read more from The Progressive Underground:

• The mystique and mastery of D’Angelo’s ‘Voodoo’
• The sonic odyssey of Ideeyah
• The Progressive Underground Pick of the Week (Jan. 20): ‘Why (The King of Love is Dead)’ by Nina Simone

This week on Liner Notes, we’re journeying into the soulful, seductive and spellbinding world of D’Angelo’s magnum opus, Voodoo.

Released on Jan. 25, 2000, it was a cultural shift, a line drawn in the sand between commercialized R&B and a deeper, more organic expression of Black music. D’Angelo, the neo-soul savant from Richmond, Virginia, took nearly five years to craft this masterpiece, a project birthed from the sweat-drenched sessions at the legendary Electric Lady Studios, under the spiritual guidance of the Soulquarians collective.

At its core, Voodoo is a groove-based exploration of Black musical traditions. D’Angelo reached back to the spirits of Marvin Gaye, Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone and James Brown. It was a nod to the past while firmly planting its flag in the future.

Let’s dive into the opening track, “Playa Playa”.

Track: “Playa Playa”

This song sets the tone for what’s to come — a stripped-down funk groove with layered, church-like harmonies that speak of confidence and swagger, baptizing listeners in a sea of soul. The rhythm section, courtesy of Questlove on drums and Pino Palladino on bass, is tight — yet breathes with a jazz-like freedom. 

Recorded at Electric Lady Studios, “Voodoo“ was created in a unique communal environment. This was the era of the Soulquarians, a collective that included Questlove, Erykah Badu, Common, and J Dilla, among others. It was a Renaissance for Black music, with each artist feeding off the other’s energy. And no track exemplifies that better than “Devil’s Pie.” 

Track: “Devil’s Pie”

Produced by DJ Premier, “Devil’s Pie” was initially slated for the soundtrack of Belly, but D’Angelo saw it as more a fit for his solo work, the perfect vehicle to critique the greed and materialism saturating hip hop at the time. Over a minimalist beat, he spits lines about the cost of selling one’s soul for success over a stripped-down funk canvas with eerie organ hits.

Up next, we have “Left & Right,” featuring Method Man and Redman. This track is pure funk-fueled fun, blending hip-hop’s grit with D’Angelo’s sultry grooves. While the song stirred some controversy for its explicit lyrics, it showcased D’Angelo’s ability to bridge the gap between hip-hop and soul, proving he could seamlessly weave both worlds together. Let’s check it out.

Track: “Left & Right (feat. Method Man & Redman)”

Now, let’s talk about “The Line.” This is where we see D’Angelo the poet, the preacher, the prophet. The song was written after Tupac and Biggie’s deaths and is a plea for survival in an unforgiving world. With lyrics like “I’m gonna put my finger on the trigger,” D’Angelo lays bare the existential dread of Black men in America. Yet, there’s resilience here, a testament to the enduring spirit that refuses to be broken. Here’s D’Angelo with “The Line.”

Track: “The Line”

There is so much texture and nuance in Voodoo as the next track is a beautifully crafted ode to love and faith. Co-written with soul singer Angie Stone, the song blends lush harmonies with jazz-influenced trumpets courtesy of Roy Hargrove. Here, D’Angelo’s falsetto is smooth and velvety, reminding us of the spiritual connection that his music creates. Let’s take a listen to “Send It On.” 

Track: “Send It On”

Our next song gets into some pure, uncut funk and is a nod to the classic grooves of James Brown and Sly Stone. The term “Chicken Grease,” which was borrowed from Prince, refers to a specific guitar technique, making this track a nod to both the past and the future. So, here’s D’Angelo with “Chicken Grease.” 

Track: “Chicken Grease”

Now let’s take it down a notch with “One Mo’gin,” a bittersweet ballad about longing for a lost love. The slow burn of the guitar licks, combined with Questlove’s steady drumming, creates a space where heartbreak feels like a dance. Let’s check it!

Track: “One Mo’ Gin”

The next track is a haunting exploration of betrayal and redemption. It features Charlie Hunter’s masterful work on the eight-string guitar, playing both bass and melody simultaneously. The interplay of instruments here is nothing short of magical. Here’s D’Angelo with “The Root.”

Track: “The Root”

We next shift gears to an energetic, Latin jazz-infused tune that showcases D’Angelo’s range as both a composer and a musician. The rhythms are fast-paced, the horns are fiery and it’s one of the most danceable tracks on the album. Let’s get lost in the sounds of “Spanish Joint.”

Track: “Spanish Joint”

We next slide into a remake and sultry reinterpretation of a Roberta Flack classic. Here, D’Angelo strips the track down to its essence, turning it into an intimate conversation between lovers, where every note feels like a caress. Here’s “Feel Like Makin’ Love.”

Track: Feel Like Makin’ Love

Next up is “Greatdayndamornin’/Booty”, a two-part track that juxtaposes the joy of waking up to a new day with the raw funk of the second half. It’s playful, sensual and embodies the loose, live feel that defines Voodoo. 

Track: “Greatdayndamornin’/Booty”

The beauty of Voodoo lies in its ability to mix the sensual with the spiritual. Nowhere is this more evident than in the album’s crown jewel, “Untitled (How Does It Feel).” Co-written with Raphael Saadiq, this track isn’t just baby-making music. It’s an homage to the Purple One himself, Prince, right down to the guitar licks that scream of the Controversy era. The song became infamous for its video, which turned D’Angelo into an overnight sex symbol, much to his discomfort. Let’s dive into that timeless slow burn.

Track: “Untitled (How Does It Feel)”

Voodoo is a genre-bending masterpiece that speaks to the soul — raw, unfiltered and unapologetically Black. More than two decades later, it remains a towering achievement in modern music. It continues to resonate with audiences for its unparalleled musicianship, emotional depth and cultural relevance. Whether dissected in academic discussions, sampled by today’s artists or revisited by fans who grew up with its grooves, it stands as a testament to the enduring power of music that dares to be honest, vulnerable and visionary. 

We’ll end this segment with a track that is a heartfelt ode to D’Angelo’s roots and to his son, Michael. It’s a meditative piece that reflects on heritage, legacy and spiritual grounding. The song’s shimmering chimes and layered harmonies evoke a deep sense of ancestral pride. The song isn’t just a love letter to his son, but to an entire lineage that came before — a reminder that while we are shaped by our past, we are not bound by it. Here’s D’Angelo bringing a spiritual conclusion to an album that refuses to be boxed into a single category with “Africa.”

Track: “Africa”

If you love exploring the depths of music like this, tune into The Progressive Underground every Saturday evening at 6 p.m. on WDET 101.9 FM, where we journey through the genres of future soul, progressive hip-hop, nu-jazz, deep house and beyond.

For The Progressive Underground, I’m Chris Campbell — stay soulful, stay connected and see you next time.