"Rhythm Nation": A Dangerously Unstable, And Yet Extremely Funky, Young Republic

I've heard of Woodstock Nation, Red Sox Nation, even Fast Food Nation, but what precisely is a "Rhythm Nation"? Is it a nation where only terrific dancers are allowed to become citizens? A nation where only percussionists are allowed to vote? A nation where every presidential candidate is obligated to begin their stump speech by beatboxing? I'm about 98% certain that Janet Jackson, Jimmy Jam, and Terry Lewis had no idea either; they probably thought the phrase just sounded cool - and they were right!

I mean, I'd rather live in a Rhythm Nation than some of the other nations out there. Who do you think they put on their currency? James Brown? Bo Diddley? Etc. etc. And yet, how to make this Rhythm Nation a reality? The trio sat in their Minneapolis studio late one night and asked themselves this critical question: "What would a Rhythm Nation sound like?" The answer: lots of snappy, metallic, clanging stuff! And brief, repetitive samples of Janet saying "bass-bass-bass"! You know, a bunch of chaotic, punchy, hi-tech noises that imitate malfunctioning hard drives!

I get the feeling that Jam and Lewis were trying to conjure up an aural experience that would have, in 1989, evoked "the future," but in 2019 mostly evokes a "1989" idea of the future. Which is fine, because if they'd actually created a song that had managed, against all odds, to capture the sound of a pop music single from 2019, I probably wouldn't like it very much.

How to create a "Rhythm Nation":

1. Sample the guitar break from Sly & the Family Stone's "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)"
2. Place twenty frying pans on the studio floor and whack the hell out of them for five minutes
3. Pick out three eerie descending chords on an organ and play them very slowly
4. Chant out a string of pseudo-slogans and vaguely political phrases that sound anthemic and uplifting on first listen but might not hold up to deep intellectual scrutiny

Works for me! For some reason, "Escapade" continued to garner airplay long after 1990, but I went for about twelve years without ever hearing "Rhythm Nation" on the radio even once, which is funny, because at the time, it was about as ubiquitous as hearing my classmates blurt out "Don't have a cow, man." When I did finally hear it again, I thought, "Well, they sure were using a towering pile of slightly dated production effects, but my nine-year-old self was correct: this song was a serious banger." Let's face it, there is a lot of rhythm in "Rhythm Nation." I fear that if it contained any extra rhythm, it might simply devolve into one long, sustained, five-minute beat. But unlike, say, that Missy Elliott song where she sounds like she's humping a buffet table in an Indian restaurant, "Rhythm Nation" still has melodic hooks and vocal harmonies and all the secret goodies that I crave. It doesn't just smack me over the head for five minutes with one idea.

Is it just me, or does the way in which Janet & Co. bark out that chorus (which to my nine-year-old brain sounded something like "People-Uck-A-Wuck-A-Duck, Wuck-A-Duck-A Wuck-A-Ducka-A-Duck, Of Life") possibly owe more to glam rock than the hip-hop that might have been their actual reference point? And then they mix it up with a little Gregorian chant, as a disembodied, seemingly all-male choir responds with "We are a part of the rhythm nation," successfully demonstrating their military, and spiritual, unity. Another great touch is Janet's little interjections of "Sing it up!" Every time she peppers one of those in there, frankly, I feel inspired to charge into battle against the evil anti-rhythmic forces that threaten to destroy our fiercely pro-rhythmic kingdom. Just when they seem to be repeating themselves, Janet, Jam, and Lewis throw in a gonzo, head-spinning bit like the one around the 1:46 mark, after Janet sings "Things are getting worse/We have to make 'em better." Without warning, all the instrumentation vanishes, leaving Janet and her sisters-in-rhythm to harmonize a capella for about five seconds (I believe they sing "It's time dooo gethuh something get togeh-thuh!") before a squiggly synth and a quick shout of "Come on now" propel us right back into the chorus. Long story short: this song totally gets me going! (Note: the lyrics of that section are actually "It's time to give a damn, let's work together." Did not know this until today.)

What I'm saying is that "Rhythm Nation" was not a case of false advertising. It's propulsive in a way that most late '80s R&B arguably was not. When Janet was recently inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, predictable howls of protest arose from the basements of angry Judas Priest and Iron Maiden fans worldwide, but here's what Def Leppard's Joe Elliott had to say: "Janet Jackson, for all her success ... People might argue that it's not rock & roll, but that 'Rhythm Nation' stuff kicked ass." And I know what he means. Hell, "Rhythm Nation" probably rocks harder than a lot of Def Leppard songs!



I've always assumed that working deep in the bowels of a factory would be a tedious, hazardous, soul-crushing experience, but damn was I off.  Virtually overnight, the video for "Rhythm Nation" must have tripled the number of job applications submitted to industrial warehouses nationwide. When they finally shut those thick metal doors at night ... it's time to get the party started! If Bob Fosse, Devo, and R. Lee Ermey had ever collaborated on a music video, they might have ended up choreographing something like this. At least the edits are spaced infrequently enough so that I can get the sense of Janet & Co. genuinely dancing their fancy dance. But here's what I'm picturing: about five seconds after the video ends, some little old lady in horn-rimmed glasses pokes her head out of the office door and yells, "All right, kids, you had your fun, now get back to work!"