By Joel Francis
The Daily Record
More than halfway through the 1980s, Stevie Wonder’s output was mixed. Hotter Than July and In Square Circle were both strong releases, but the ubiquity of successful sappy singles “Ebony and Ivory” and “I Just Called to Say I Love You” cast a pall over his triumphs.
At 12 songs and more than an hour, no one could accuse Wonder of being lethargic on his 1987 release Characters. Sadly, not much works. “You Will Know” is fine, but opening the album with this ballad makes it feel like we’ve joined something already in progress. “Skeletons,” a look at political corruption, feels like an update of something we’ve heard before – and done much better – on “Superstition” and “You Haven’t Done Nothing.”
Wonder and Michael Jackson traded album appearances in 1987. After Wonder guested the Bad album cut “Just Good Friends,” Jackson repaid the favor with the single “Get It.” Like Wonder’s earlier efforts with Paul McCartney, these meetings of the Motown child stars are somehow less than the sum of their parts. Neither is bad, per se, but they don’t linger in my ears past their runtimes.
“My Eyes Don’t Cry No More” combines autobiographic verses with a resolute chorus over a swinging electronic production. Another tear-themed song, “Cryin’ Through the Night” (shouldn’t these two titles cancel each other out?) is a surprisingly up-tempo tale of heartbreak. Finally, “Free,” the closing song on the vinyl edition, stands as the album’s final moment, a rousing call for freedom. Wonder really liked ending albums with proclamations.
These five songs – less than half the album – comprise Characters’ high points. The other songs are either too maudlin or half-baked to discuss. “Come Let Me Make Your Love Come Down” earns special derision for not only its awkward title, but for squandering a rare guitar summit between B.B. King and Stevie Ray Vaughan. When critics trumpet Wonder’s lost muse, most of that reputation rests on The Woman in Red and Characters. And for those two albums, it is deserved.
For the better part of two decades, Stevie Wonder’s production defined and redefined the boundaries of music. By the time Wonder rolled into the 1990s, his fourth decade as an artist, he was now following the sound of the times rather than creating it. No one stays on the bleeding edge forever and how Wonder adapted his songwriting and arrangements to the culture reveals other facets of his creativity.
Wonder took another break after Characters, releasing his next album four years later, in 1991. The soundtrack to Spike Lee’s Jungle Fever featured programmed drums and lots of synthesizers across it’s 11 tracks. The overall aesthetic tiptoes up to the au courant sound of new jack swing, but rarely feels that urban.
Lead song “Fun Day” is an exception to this rule, featuring a lively hip hop drum track. The song soars, living up to its title and erasing any lingering doubts caused by Wonder’s previous underbaked release. Obligatory ballad single “These Three Words” is heartfelt and has a timeless feel. It is easily Wonder’s best ballad since “Overjoyed.”
The soundtrack’s final single, “Gotta Have You” combines a programmed drum track with a typically funky groove. Although it wasn’t released as a single, the title song featured prominently in the film. While it won’t win any songwriting awards it is infectiously catchy and fun. The best song is buried near the end. “Chemical Love” is an anti-drug number that dodges cliches and generalizations by looking at the spiritual and emotional cravings people try to fill with poisonous substances.
Jungle Fever doesn’t quite rise to classic status – the rest of the material is fine but not particularly noteworthy – but it is worth a second look.
Wonder went further into new jack swing on Conversation Peace, released in 1995. At 13 songs and 74 minutes, there is a good album buried among all the bloat. Excising some of the songs and trimming down the performances – most cuts hover around six minutes – would have helped immensely. For every banger like “My Love is With You,” the apex of Wonder’s new jack swing infatuation, there’s a track like “Cold Chill” that goes nowhere and takes too long to get there.
“Edge of Eternity” is an upbeat love song with a tight horn line, while “Take the Time Out” is an empathetic look at homelessness and poverty with Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Deeper in the album, “For Your Love” is the requisite love ballad single. Despite winning a Grammy, the track feels pretty generic. The propulsive “Sorry” is much better, but its production sounds more like the mid-‘80s than the mid-‘90s. “Sorry” sets up the closing number and title song to end the album on a strong note.
Keep Reading:
A survey of post-‘70s Stevie Wonder (Part One: The ‘80s)



