PDA

View Full Version : The Time Has Come Again


unique
22nd June 2008, 04:36 PM
http://stmedia.startribune.com/images/208*258/2pop0622.jpgThe Time has come again

After reuniting for the Grammys, the 1980s Minneapolis hitmakers are doing Vegas and a new album.
By JON BREAM (http://www.startribune.com/bios/10644496.html), Star Tribune

(http://www.startribune.com/entertainment/music/20582659.html#)It's About Time...

The Time is one helluva group that still get down. True funk at its finest. Look for them at the Minnesota Zoo on August 15th. :)

Who first had the idea -- Tina Turner or the Time -- to use the 50th annual Grammy Awards to launch a comeback?
Well, the Time's reunion was batted around last fall. "There was a conference call," recalled keyboardist Monte Moir. Then bandmate Jimmy Jam mentioned the idea to the CEO of the Recording Academy, which stages the Grammys.
Before you could say "What time is it?" the seven original members reunited Feb. 10 after 18 years apart to perform with Rihanna on the Grammys. That brought a call from a Las Vegas promoter and, on Tuesday, the Time will begin a three-week engagement at the Flamingo Hotel.
While the comeback isn't as high-profile as Turner's fall arena tour after an eight-year retirement, it is heartening for fans of one of the tightest, funkiest and most fun R&B bands of the 1980s.
"We're getting along great," drummer Jellybean Johnson said last week while shopping for cymbals at the Guitar Center in Hollywood. "These guys are my brothers."
Why a reunion now?
"It's like Terry [Lewis] is telling all the interviewers: 'It's just time,'" said Johnson, who spent the past three weeks rehearsing in Los Angeles, where the other members live; only Johnson and Moir still live in the Twin Cities.
The project is being spearheaded by Lewis -- the group's bassist, Jam's partner in the Grammy-winning Flyte Tyme production team and "the consummate businessman," said Johnson. Lewis and frontman Morris Day cut the deal with the Flamingo.
The Time is actually the replacement for this 15-show engagement at a 700-seat showroom. Toni Braxton has been the longtime attraction there, but became ill.
The group is getting a " handsome" fee, Johnson said -- perhaps its biggest payday ever.
'Not a normal band'
This isn't just a dash for reunion cash. The Time is about three-fourths finished with a new album that could be available in the fall. One or two new numbers might sneak into the group's 90-minute Vegas set.


"It's certainly in the same vein," Moir said. "We didn't want to try anything new or hip-hop-ish. We're sticking to our roots."
But as Johnson points out, "This is not a normal band."
He was referring to three issues: There are now two versions of the Time; the original members have not always gotten along, and all of them have other musical obligations.
From the get-go, the Time has been a rocky proposition. In 1980 Prince, then a budding star, decided to give Flyte Tyme, a Minneapolis R&B band, a makeover. He made drummer Day the lead singer and wrote a bunch of songs for the band. The renamed Time had a series of R&B hits ("Cool," "777-9311," "The Walk"). The group toured with Prince for two successful years -- before "Purple Rain."
Then Prince booted Jam and Lewis from the band when a producing job caused them to miss a gig. Although it scored more hits, including "Jungle Love," the revamped group imploded after appearing in "Purple Rain."
The original members reunited in 1990 to appear in Prince's movie "Graffiti Bridge" and record the album "Pandemonium" before quickly disbanding again. Jam and Lewis -- by then top-flight producers -- and guitarist Jesse Johnson refused to tour with the group.
Day put together a new touring act six years later. Of the other original members, only Moir and Johnson joined him. That group, billed as Morris Day and the Time, has gigs booked through at least August -- including an Aug. 15 show at the Minnesota Zoo and one this weekend in Oklahoma.
Balancing the two lineups is "a problem," Johnson said, "but we're not looking at it like that." He sounded confident that the situation will sort itself out.
Similarly, the often-strident relationships among the original members have mellowed.
"Everybody's in a good place," Johnson said. "Of course, we're all 50 years old -- you should be at this point."


http://www.startribune.com/entertainment/music/20582659.html

THE TIME

When: Tue.-Sat., July 1-5 and July 29-Aug. 2.
Where: Flamingo Showroom, Las Vegas.
Tickets: $65-$150

The One
24th June 2008, 03:22 AM
It's time again for The Time
http://i.usatoday.net/life/_photos/2008/06/23/timex.jpgPhotos by Robert Hanashiro, USA TODAY

Suited up for a comeback: Jimmy Jam (front left), Jellybean Johnson and Morris Day; Monte Moir (back left), Jesse Johnson, Jerome Benton and Terry Lewis.









http://images.usatoday.com/life/_photos/2008/06/23/time-dancex.jpgParty time: Morris Day, left, and Jerome Benton attend a rehearsal with the reunited band. The Time kicks off 15 shows Tuesday at Flamingo Las Vegas. A new album and possibly more shows will follow.

By Edna Gundersen (http://www.usatoday.com/community/tags/reporter.aspx?id=187), USA TODAY
HOLLYWOOD — Even after its rollicking Jungle Love flashback at February's 50th annual Grammy Awards, few fans believed this funk-rocking, sass-talking, prude-mocking septet would rally for a comeback. Set your clocks to oh-wee-oh-wee-oh. The Time is now.
The Minneapolis funk group that Prince assembled in 1981 is kicking off its reunion with a 15-show live run that starts Tuesday at Flamingo Las Vegas. A fifth album is nearly complete and wider dates may follow.
(http://www.usatoday.com/life/music/news/2008-06-22-time-side_N.htm)

"Isn't Vegas a perfect match for us? Showtime!" says a beaming Jerome Benton, 45, backup vocalist and foil for singer Morris Day. They're rehearsing here at Cascade Studios with drummer Jellybean Johnson, keyboardists Jimmy Jam and Monte Moir, guitarist Jesse Johnson and bassist Terry Lewis.
"We all have kids, and it's tough to get our schedules to mesh," says Jimmy, 49. "Vegas felt like the right place for a comeback. We could be in one place to try it out. If it was good enough for Elvis, it's good enough for us."

And even better for fans craving authentic funk with the accent on F-U-N, says Gail Mitchell, Billboard's R&B/hip-hop correspondent.

"Based on the reaction at the Grammys, there's an appetite out there for The Time's energy and vibe," she says. "And people miss all-inclusive bands like Earth, Wind & Fire. It's a great chance for another generation to discover these guys. The silly lyrics and Morris Day's suave Mr. Smooth act put a fun veneer on music, but it was a veil. They're serious musicians."
The Parliament-steeped ensemble's humble start as a superstar's pet project suggested a 15-minute shelf life. Fate and fame intervened.

The Timeline
The band was a popular opening act for Prince, who oversaw the first three albums of ribald danceable funk: 1981's The Time, 1982's What Time Is It? and 1984's Ice Cream Castle.
Jimmy and Terry began writing and producing outside The Time and in 1983 were fired by Prince after a snowstorm caused them to miss a show in San Antonio. They soon became the era's top production duo, working with Janet Jackson, New Edition, Mariah Carey and Mary J. Blige. Monte also departed, and an altered lineup appeared in the movie Purple Rain, which yielded hits Jungle Love and The Bird. Morris left to pursue acting in 1985. Jesse embarked on a successful solo career. The others carried on as The Family.

The Time reconvened in 1990 for Prince's Graffiti Bridge film and critically hailed fourth album Pandemonium, which sent single Jerk Out to the top 10.

The Time soon disbanded amid friction after a final gig on Saturday Night Live, where "Morris was cussing and eating chicken dinner on stage," Jimmy says as the others howl. "We've all been successful on our own, but this is where we want to be now. It's not some sacrifice or Svengali thing. It's the roots of what we do.

"Whether we became actors or producers or songwriters, it all started with The Time. Fans stuck with us, and they want to see this."

He's now eager to rejoin, but Jesse spent years fleeing his Time served. "I used to get upset when I had a solo album that went platinum and an article would start, 'The former Time guitarist,' " he says. "It took 20 years to accept the fact that, dude, everything you do is a satellite from The Time."

The band had mulled reconnecting for a few years, "but let's just say the Grammys rekindled the catalyst," says Morris, 50.
"The rehearsal solidified what I was feeling," Jesse, 48, says. "Before then, I was apprehensive. Terry stayed on us like a cheap suit until everyone committed. He raised our confidence."

Says Terry, 51: "I don't accept no. We had to alleviate some of the demons that float in everyone's minds."
No old wounds have reopened.
"As you get older, you move on, and those things just aren't important," says Monte, 49. "Since Day One, we've had a strong, unique bond. That carried us through and still does."

Jellybean, 51, says his initial concerns faded in the security "that these guys are my friends first, and they will be until I'm in the ground."
Terry says he persisted because "it's just time, especially in a marketplace where hardly anybody's playing R&B. Kids aren't seeing the fun and musicality, and that's terrible. We're the perfect fuel for what music needs."

When Jesse attempts to define The Time's appeal, Morris interrupts. "He's trying to explain it!" he blurts. "It's unexplainable. It's the Frankenstein monster. It just got up and started walking."

But then Morris takes a stab at why the time is ripe for The Time: "All the sexiness is gone. I'm not hatin', but you go to a rap show to see some guys holding their crotch so their pants stay up. It's not sexy. We're clean, we look good, we sound good, we're putting down some real music."

One topic, call it The Time bomb, is a minefield these veterans tread gingerly. "Ooooh!" is the collective response at the mention of absentee Prince, whose legal ties to the band are cloudy.

"It's like a big sandbag over our head, and the rope's unraveling," Morris says. Pressed to reveal details about a rumored fifth Time album recorded in the '90s, he adds with a grin: "There's unreleased stuff. There's a vault. We just don't have the key. There's some technicalities. But we've decided to move full steam ahead. You can't stop this locomotive."

Terry's diplomatic take: "Prince was always the superior power. At this point, we're on the same level. It's like when the children grow up. That sandbag will always be in the room, but there's no dictatorship."
And there are no hard feelings about getting axed, Jimmy says. "We wouldn't have changed a thing. On our second tour, Morris told all of us, 'This isn't going to last forever, so figure out what you're going to do.' He took acting lessons. We went into production."

Jesse jumps in, "Looking at how your career went, I would have fired myself."
Big two-tone shoes to fill
Morris says he was devastated by the departure of Jimmy and Terry. "When we started switching musicians, it wasn't my favorite band anymore," he says. "I wasn't happy from that day."
It's a rare sour note in an upbeat history, where "there was a laugh around every corner," Terry says. The Time had the time of its life as court jesters in a regal shadow.

Jimmy recalls, "Prince's show was very above the crowd: 'I'm Prince and I'm big!' We were with the crowd. At our first gig in Pittsburgh, we walked the streets, and people said, 'You ain't got no bodyguards?' We'd get to a town and go, 'Where's the mall, and where's the club?' And when they'd say, 'Whatever you do, don't go to that club,' that's the club we'd hit."
The Time partied hard and paid the consequences, often literally. Prince imposed $5 fines for curfew violations. Despite his own naughty nature, he forbade misconduct.

Jesse delights in relating a Pittsburgh incident that began with The Time playing Pac-Man until they discovered a sex shop next door.
"They had booths we'd never seen in Minneapolis," Jesse says. "You put in money, and a woman starts dancing. Morris tried to climb through. When we walked outside, there were lights and cameras. People were picketing to shut the place down!"

Rather than slink away, they lingered as Morris flirted with a pretty reporter. At the hotel, a solemn Prince cracked, "I saw you guys on TV."
To avoid fines, most bashes took place in hotels.
"My birthday party in Fayetteville (N.C.), the first tour!" Morris says of his peak memory. "I got a solo room and the tour bus, too!"
Trapped by a blizzard in Boston, the band broke into the hotel kitchen and cooked up a party feast.

"That was off the chain," Morris says. "We had the dopest parties."
Now the stories are rolling furiously. Prince's tattooed biker bodyguard fires a blank gun after too many beers. Prince leaves his guarded floor for The Time's raucous party, then throws up all night in Jesse's room. Tooling down Sunset Strip in a station wagon, they're stopped by hookers who aren't buying the famous-R&B-band story. Jerome mimics one of them: "Ooh, you got a white man in the car. He your manager?"

Monte shakes his head as the others hoot. The group is finally silenced by a request to list inspiring new artists.
"I'm out," Jesse says.
Jimmy chimes in, "I only hear new stuff because my kids play it. It takes Sly Stone or James Brown to inspire me."

Terry admires Kanye West but says most modern music lacks distinction. "When you play instruments, everyone puts his own personality into it. When you sit at home with a computer, it's very one-dimensional. Music has funneled itself into that little pit and it can't get out."

Proudly old-school (the band's earliest releases were on 45s and 8-track), The Time promises its next album "will sound like the year after Pandemonium, only with 18 years of experience in between," Jimmy says. "It's going to be fresh but it's going to fit."

In one 21st-century concession, the band isn't shopping for a label.
"More than a label, we're trying to find a home," Terry says. "We have some great songwriters, producers, actors, entertainers and business people in this group. Jesse has a banging album in the can. We need to do a blues album with Bean, because he's ridiculous. Monte has albums. Jerome writes and produces plays and films."
Time will tell how long The Time will last. Nobody's sweating the fine cracks in the hourglass.

"Oh, we fight every single day," Jesse says.
Says Terry, "At the end of the day, the best idea wins."

http://www.usatoday.com/life/music/news/2008-06-22-time-main_N.htm

The One
26th June 2008, 08:32 PM
The Time to make Las Vegas dance

Here's why it's good to tape record interviews:

"What is is built on what was, and what will be is built on what was and what is. And we'll just go from there."

That moment of Zen is from Terry Lewis, talking about The Time, the party-funk band from the Prince school whose original lineup has reunited this summer for three engagements at the Flamingo Las Vegas. The first started Tuesday and continues through July 5.

Morris Day and comic foil Jerome Benton have kept The Time and '80s dance hits such as "Jungle Love" and "The Bird" alive for 10 years on the locals casino circuit. What's unusual about this reunion is that Lewis and business partner Jimmy Jam went on to be the producer team behind a number of pop and R&B stars, most notably Janet Jackson's mega-selling "Control" and "Rhythm Nation" albums.

Suffice it to say that unless they've been using Ed McMahon or Mike Tyson as their financial advisers, Jam and Lewis aren't doing the Flamingo gig for the money.
"There's no other reason to do it other than just wanting to do it," Lewis says of the reunion that began in February with a performance on the Grammy Awards telecast. Jam is president of the presenting organization, the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences.

"We've been producing records for 30 years and that's been a fun thing too," Lewis says. "But there's nothing like the feeling I felt when we started rehearsing for the Grammys. For that period of time, I'm just a bass player. That's all I have to think about. That's a great feeling."

The band -- which also includes Monte Moir, Jellybean Johnson and Jesse Johnson -- also is about three-fourths done with a new album, and may preview some of the new songs in the live sets.
"People are starved for good music, people are starved for musicianship, people are starved for fun," Lewis believes. "That's all the things we bring. We're going to make a really good, fun, fun record."
And in the process of finishing it, "We bring something to Vegas that it doesn't have. While we are a band from the '80s, we bring a lot of youth and fun to that town that it hasn't seen (since) Prince came to town," he says.

"We'll make 'em dance in the aisles." ...

http://www.lvrj.com/living/21712114.html

The One
31st July 2008, 08:26 PM
The Time of their lives

After 18 years apart, ensemble band members pick Vegas to kick off reunion

http://pic30.picturetrail.com/VOL1497/6578230/19042788/328150658.jpg
Photo:Tiffany Brown
The Time performs Tuesday in the Flamingo Showroom. The Time, a band most famous for their association with Prince, has reunited after 18 years and is putting together another album.

By Joe Brown (http://www.lasvegassun.com/staff/joe-brown/)
Thu, Jul 31, 2008 (2 a.m.)

The Time is now. The place is Las Vegas.

The Strip has been the location and motivation for all kinds of showbiz resurrections, revivals and replicas. The unexpected comeback of the original lineup of The Time is one of the hottest, happiest onstage reunions this town has seen in years — it puts the fun back in funk.

Dapper, debonair, natty, snazzy, spiffy (fly, even), the seven Time-keepers are the sharpest-dressed showmen this side of “Jersey Boys.” And as they conclude their 15-show stand at the Flamingo Showroom on Saturday, after an absence of 18 years, they look and sound untouched by, well, time.
Time out

Former Prince proteges, The Time epitomized the 1980s “Minneapolis sound” that, with its snapping funk and vintage keyboard sounds, had the prints of Prince all over it. They released four albums and appeared in the 1984 Prince epic “Purple Rain.”
After the purple majesty fired keyboard player Jimmy Jam and bass player Terry Lewis in 1983 because they missed a show (they were stalled by a snowstorm), The Time frittered away. Jam and Lewis went on to become a dynamic production team with a signature sound, creating Janet Jackson’s biggest hits. Extraordinary guitarist Jesse Johnson scored big with several solo funk-rock albums. Lead singer Morris Day also went solo.

Time machine
Preening as always, comically vain frontman Day showed off a silver and black brocade jacket. “This is a pimp suit, by the way,” Day informed the Flamingo audience Tuesday night. “Las Vegas, do you like it? That’s good, because you bought it!”
His “hype man” and comic foil, crowd favorite Jerome Benton, played Day’s valet, and upstaged his “boss” at every opportunity, mirroring Day’s moves, appreciating bandmates and flirting with the audience.

Superstar producers Jam and Lewis looked at home and happy to be back with their band, which includes drummer Jellybean Johnson, “Piano Man” Monte Moir and Jesse Johnson, a baby-faced Prince doppleganger in a black frock coat and batwing shades.

Time pieces
Dusting off all the hits any Time-watcher could hope for, including “Cool,” “777-9311,” “The Walk” and “The Bird,” plus some playful rhythm workouts, the group looked loose and played tight, sounding impeccably old-school (Jam says they’re using their original ’80s keyboards) and still utterly fresh.

To ensure audience interest in a new number called “See-through,” a tribute to ladies in all hues (“What color do I like? See-through!”), Day brought on a trio of Paris-ites in sheer black teddies, who set immediately to grinding behind him and jumping up and down in high heels.

Not to be outdone, Benton prowled the audience, cherry-picking a baker’s dozen of ladies in all shapes and sizes onstage to form a chorus line. All of them were more than willing to shake it to “Ice Cream Castles,” and Benton turned a few of them 180 degrees for a booty revue. One woman, clearly one of The Time’s biggest fans (or at least one of their larger ones), grabbed Benton from behind, keeping him helplessly, hilariously captive.

The Time is a show band, and the human-scaled Flamingo Showroom is a near-perfect setting for it. The only drawback is that The Time’s set is a readymade dance party, and the Showroom is pretty much a sit-down setup. By the end of the 90-minute set, tables were pushed back and everyone was on his feet, bouncing to “Jungle Love” and shouting its unshakable “oh-ee-oh-ee-oh” hook.

Timeless
After a one-off appearance at the 50th annual Grammy Awards in February, the band members, all of them between 45 and 51, started talking about making a new album, which led to settling on Vegas as the site to stage a comeback.

“The response (to the Grammy performance) was very flattering,” says Jimmy Jam after the Flamingo show. “We had a lot of different offers to tour, but being a bit older, with everybody having families and other obligations, it was tough to get everybody to commit to a tour.” Flamingo President Don Marrandino made them an offer: Bring your families in, you can stay in one place and play the Showroom, with its old-school Vegas vibe.

Aside from enjoying the swimming pools every day, Jam says the big bonus of playing Vegas is that his three kids — a 12-year-old son and 8-year-old twins, a boy and a girl — could see every single show.

“We hadn’t played in 18 years,” he says. “My kids didn’t know that I played in a band, and I think it’s the same way with Terry’s kids and Jesse’s kids.
“Forget about Daddy,” Jam says, laughing. “My kids are Jesse Johnson fans.”

The time is right, Jam says. “Everybody’s getting along really well. And I think we all have a feeling of ‘if not now, when?’ Someone asked me the other day what are we working on, productionwise. And I said, ‘We’re doing a Time album. That’s our project now.’ We’re not looking at the fact that 18 years has passed in between; we’re approaching it as the follow-up to (their past album, in 1990) ‘Pandemonium.’ ”

Time’s up
My only regret is that I waited this long to see them. Get over there soon, while we still have The Time.

http://www.lasvegassun.com/news/2008/jul/31/time-their-lives/