I’d been meaning to write about Slave to the Rhythm for a while, but I had difficulty in working out how to go about doing so. I just churned this out now whilst listening to the album. It’s a base form to work with, and eventually I’ll be able to turn it into something better. It gets some of my thoughts across and that’s the main thing. There’s something to work with here.

The final version of this essay will be published on From Somewhere out the Back. If you’ve been following my stuff here long enough, then you’ll recognise the name as the title for when I write about music releases in my music collection. I’d been intending to dedicate a space for those pieces for a while, and of course rather than hold to that, the space expanded to more than just music.

The draft below is just to give an idea of progress.

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Okay, where to start with this one?

I remember, as a child, hearing “Slave to the Rhythm”. I had a bit of variance in the music I heard when I was growing up, and I know I heard this song. I know I heard it as, a few years ago whilst I was walking around Flower Power, I heard it played over the PA and recognised it. I subsequently sought out the song, heard it and wondered why it wasn’t the same as what I heard. Then I wondered why the one that I was familiar with was called “Ladies and Gentlemen: Miss Grace Jones”.

Slave to the Rhythm is, as far as my understanding goes, an album comprised of differing versions of the same song. It kicks off with a monologue describing rhythm at the start of “Jones the Rhythm”, and it’s all high energy and just pumping stuff. Then it relaxes a bit more with “The Fashion Show”, or rather, becomes smooth and sleek, wholly embodying its title. Grace Jones sings in a way that matches the instrumentation, though there isn’t much of it, and it’s more that she’s commanding someone to give in, to submit.

The song “Slave to the Rhythm” was originally going to be given to Frankie Goes to Hollywood before it was offered to Grace Jones, and it going to the latter rather than the former was the right choice, and I might get to that later. But the main reason why is how each version of the track works in an biographical context. “Jones the Rhythm” talks expresses Grace Jones’ early days in disco, even if not sounding that way, as well as the way her music changed over time whilst preserving a certain energy. “The Fashion Show” seems to express the dichotomy between Grace Jones’ experiences working as a model, and all the conflict that comes with that.

You get to “The Frog and The Princess”, which is narrated by Jean-Paul Goude, who was Grace Jones’ partner at the time Slave to the Rhythm came out. It’s a song that seems very much about fascination and obsession, and whilst Goude does express a moment where he wasn’t sure if he was in love with Grace Jones or rather objectifying and idolising her is great, it seems very much that he’s very much interested in the idea of Grace Jones rather than the person Grace Jones. It’s not quite a vulnerable statement which is fine, but it also feels unintentionally revealing through trying to express a controlled narrative. It works, however, as an external perspective on who Jones is, and the calm swelling of sound adds to it in a sense. Something is revealed, honest, shining and fun, but we’re not told what, exactly.

What comes next is “Operattack”, and it feels very much like that. It’s a great bit of abrasive music that explores voice as rhythm, sort of digs into it. It’s a great track, just being totally uncompromising in feel, dismantling and reconstructing at the same time.

So the title track. “Slave to the Rhythm”. It starts with rich, waking melody, before switching to something with a bit more of a boldness to it, something less smooth in terms of sound, but no less in terms of motion. Just striking out stuff, it’s great. Really funky, coming back to and bringing forward what was in “Jones the Rhythm”, and seems more work-like and stiff in some ways than that track. Eventually it does let up and gets more smooth and soft, and there’s a fun in here, but there’s a weariness, too. There’s more of a telling the self to keep going, in a sense, but it doesn’t feel like words of encouragement so much as a way to cope with pressures. And then the song resumes its regular pattern, unrelenting, rigid.

Both “The Crossing (Oohh the Action…)” and “Don’t Cry – It’s Only the Rhythm” carry a sense of relief to them, and definitely more so in the former over the latter. There’s a calm, a peace. A relaxation. Pressure is released, the valve opened, and it’s all sorts of gentle and perhaps reflective. The latter is building things back up, and there’s hesitancy. As though about to step in a spotlight left behind, as though being called back in and being compelled by one’s own desire. But the hesitancy is there, and uncertainty. Alternatively, it could be seen as a track that’s reflective of the journey, excited for what comes next, and what is next is the culmination of the journey thus far. Excited about the process, excited about presenting.

“Ladies and Gentlemen: Miss Grace Jones”, also known as “Slave to the Rhythm”, starts with the words “Ladies and gentlemen: Miss Grace Jones. Slave to the Rhythm” on the UK version, and it feels much like a culmination, like all the previous parts coming together. It’s Grace Jones expressing her experiences, expressing history – indeed, it can be read as much about Grace Jones’ life and part in music as it can be read as a political statement, and perhaps that’s the point, because – like in earlier forms – lyrics are presenting in a particular way that’s shaped by the sounds underneath, which are a mix of gentle and firm, and fully fitting, and the way Grace Jones is singing. She alternates between gentle and firm also, and there’s a sense, perhaps, of age in her voice in terms of coming through a lot of crap. Her voice feels a little more relaxed in a way, a little more raw and open, but she also sings in a way that’s uplifiting, and the music matches.

The song itself seems to move through a sense of moods, and at the end of it all everything explodes into a grand celebration, but only for a moment. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, here’s Grace!”, Grace Jones sings, as though ready to reveal herself as performer, entertainer and artist, and wholly herself. Perhaps saying something about, after all this time, in a way she only puts forward what she wants, and allows herself to be marketed in a certain way, but regardless of how honest the version we get is, it’s still something everyone will buy a piece of, and so she’s no more or less free than she would have been when she was younger, regardless of how much control she had then. However, as cynical as that sounds, she’s more able to now embrace what is put forward and try to turn it into something that’s more her own than anyone else’s.

The song ends with a few sounds, and Grace Jones making a playful sound. She’s not fooling around, but she’s still going to have fun with it.

I think the reason why “Ladies and Gentlemen: Miss Grace Jones” was put forward as “Slave to the Rhythm” in single form is that it really does feel like the culmination of the rest of the album. It feels like it concisely summarises bits and pieces, but it’s still its own thing. It still carries a sense of narrative, but it’s relational narrative.

“Slave to the Rhythm” was written by Bruce Woolley, Trevor Horn, Stephen Lipson and Simon Darlow, and it almost went to Frankie Goes to Hollywood. It’s probably good that it didn’t, as it feels very much like Grace Jones’ album and song. What is here is the product of collaborative work, but Grace had to be comfortable with what she was doing and how she was going about doing it. Indeed, it is difficult to separate the song(s) here from Grace, as her presence just dominates the whole thing. It is as much her as it is an extension, a series of expressions and reflections, perhaps. It’s that presence, and the way she makes use of her voice and expresses with it, that has helped me, at the least, enjoy the work quite a lot. Had I not heard “Slave to the Rhythm” in Flower Power, I doubt I would’ve spent the time finding a copy of the album and spinning it. It’s looking at the same person from different viewpoints, different facets, and it’s looking at the various ways a song can sound whilst remaining the same song. And it’s absolutely solid from start to finish. Just a tight, punchy record when it needs to be, and low and calm when it needs to be.

But this is just what I’m getting from it. I can’t claim to know the ins and outs of how (and if) it actually does explore who Grace Jones was up to that point. There are only five people who really know, and something tells me that they’ve said all the want to and aren’t saying more. Something tells me they’d rather let the songs do the talking, and if so, that’s easily the right decision, because these are damn fine songs.