GRACE JONES

WARM TECH MEETS ICY SOUL – THIS 1981 GAME-CHANGING ALBUM TRANSFORMED A FADING DISCO DIVA INTO AN ICONIC GLOBAL SUPERSTAR

FELIX ROWE

At the turn of the 1980s, a crack team of musicians was assembled by Island Records founder Chris Blackwell at his recently-built Compass Point Studios in Nassau, the Bahamas. Inspired by the great house bands of Stax, Motown and Nashville’s top studios – each one celebrated for their distinct sound – Blackwell envisaged his own superstar backline to fortify Island’s roster. His group would boast an edgy, electro-tinged New Wave sound, underpinned by a reggae rhythm section.

In Grace Jones he found the perfect leading lady to carry forward this vision: a feisty, provocative graduate of New York’s Studio 54 scene, already clearly star material, though yet to realise her full artistic potential. The result was a trio of albums that, to quote Pitchfork, “altered the face of modern pop”. 1981’s Nightclubbing was a cultural tour de force that just about every pop star worth their salt has attempted to emulate since.

In hindsight, the ascent of Grace Jones seems predestined, a singular character so fully-realised and compelling it’s hard to imagine it any other way. In reality, Jones’ Compass Point output represents a swift about-turn that transformed her from fading novelty act to credible artist and, ultimately, global superstar. To fully appreciate this amazing shift in trajectory – and just how unlikely it might have seemed at the time – we’ve got to rewind a little.

Under the tutelage of heavyweight producer Tom Moulton (who had done notable mixes for Gloria Gaynor, The Three Degrees, The Trammps and others), Jones’ first three albums were firmly planted in the disco camp – ‘camp’ being the operative word. It was soul-inflected feel-good music – Broadway show tunes given the four-to-the-floor treatment, complete with sweeping strings, vibrant brass and slinky guitars. It’s well-crafted, Gloria Gaynor-lite disco, showcasing a wider vocal range than Jones is often given credit for. But despite tantalising glimpses of the artist she could become – her force of character, outrageousness and vampish image were already legendary on the club scene – there was little within her early canon to elevate her above the slew of disco also-rans.

The Compass Point sessions marked a clear departure, trading the jazz hands for a lean, loping swagger. With the cries of ‘Disco sucks!’ still reverberating, 1980’s Warm Leatherette was a radical reinvention. Commercially, it didn’t set the world alight upon release, but it set the template. Nightclubbing picked up where that left off… and perfected it.