Don’t quite remember the year, but everything else is clear as a whistle. School was done until September, so I could spend the night at my cousin’s crib on a weeknight.
We spent the better part of the evening on the basketball court, so all was well. As the sun began its descent, the DJ and his crew were settin’ up shop in the park. I sat in with my older cuz and his crew, soaking in all the game I could about martial arts movies, ball, girls and clothes in no particular order for a little more than an hour until the emcee made the call.
The show was about to start. He called everybody to the front because, as he put it, “my DJ will shock and amaze this crazy craze.” I shouted to cuz, “Be right back,” as I maneuvered up to the ropes. The DJ began his set with his left turntable, and as he searched for his cue on the right turntable, “yeah uh huh, yeah uh huh” blared from the speakers.
The DJ found his mark and began what was an underwhelming, disappointing set. The break beat, however, made an impression. If I was gonna start mixing and scratching, I needed to have that record, “Ain’t We Funkin’ Now (Disco Version),” in my crates when the time came. By the time I was finally able to start my record collection, the clerk at the record spot pointed me to the Brothers Johnson section for that cut. The perception early on was most break beats were from obscure bands, not groups like the Brothers Johnson.
Everybody knew them for their monster cover of “Strawberry Letter 23.” Despite that, they were slept on. So here’s an overview: The group, consisting of brothers George Johnson (“Lightnin’ Licks”) on guitar and Louis E. Johnson (“Thunder Thumbs”) on bass, got on the industry radar as members of Billy Preston’s band. They even had a few of their compositions placed on the Preston albums “Music in My Life” and “The Kids and Me.”
They left Billy’s group in 1973 and began recording as a duo, but it was their abilities at songwriting that moved them along, this time with Quincy Jones. Jones used a few of their songs for his “Mellow Madness” album project. In 1976, Jones produced the Brothers Johnson debut album, released in 1976 for the A&M imprint, titled “Lookin’ Out for Number One,” which began a run of four consecutive platinum albums.
After the group disbanded, Louis Johnson, with his prowess as a musician, really made his mark. His work appears on many well-known records by top flight artists as diverse as Stevie Wonder, Andre Crouch, John Mellencamp, Anita Baker and Paul McCartney, to name a few. Most noticeably, however, would be the bass line for Michael McDonald’s “I Keep Forgettin’(Every Time You’re Near),” a staple as a sample in hip-hop, and his work with Michael Jackson. The two first linked on the “Off the Wall” album, as Johnson contributed the song “Get On the Floor” and set the tone on the lead single “Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough.” He also contributed to the “Thriller” and “Dangerous” albums, with the most popular collaboration being “Billie Jean.”
“I’ve never been given parts to play in my whole life,” he told writer Steve Knopper in 2013 for the upcoming book, “MJ: The Genius of Michael Jackson.” “I’m the most rare bass player in the whole world. No one ever gave me music paper to read; no one ever gave me anything to read. They tell me, ‘Here’s a track, play what you want.’”
From his legacy of music, it’s evident he wanted to play funk. Thanks for keeping it alive.
Louis Johnson, no longer slept on, just asleep. RIP, Brother.
Holla next week. Until then, enjoy then nightlife.