Sweet Thing, You've Got Me Singing...

It sometimes takes a lot for me to like a song, especially if it has a strange hook or a goofy sound to it. I won't even give a song one listen if I can't take it seriously. That's how I used to feel about Teena Marie's "Ooo La La La." I could never get into that song, mainly because of the part where she sings "ooo la la la." It was just too weird and corny for me to give it--or the rest of the song--any merit.

I could never understand the popularity of "Ooo La La La." I remember my schoolmates singing it with such abandon and I just couldn't relate. Even when the Fugees did a remake of it with their hit "Fug-Gee-La," I was so against the original version, that their decision to do this prevented me from taking them seriously (at least not until "Killing Me Softly" came around). Yes, I was that diametrically opposed to the song. It just seemed, I don't know, beneath Teena to do something like that. With her body of work--including hard-hitting hits like "Square Biz," "Portuguese Love" (my personal favorite), and "I Need Your Lovin'"--"Ooo La La La" just seemed cheesy and so much less than the soulful sound I had come to expect of her.

And it takes a LOT for me to expect high-quality soulful music from a white artist. But Teena was no ordinary white artist. She was one of the few that could truly capture the essence, not only of soul music, but of the black culture inextricably linked with it. At the same time, she didn't exploit R&B culture or treat it like a commoditized item to be studied, mastered, and regurgitated like other artists of her persuasion. This is most demonstrated by the fact that in many instances, you could hear the "white girl" shining through loud and clear in much of her singing. But intertwined with those "vanilla child" sensibilities were the "chocolate" influences,
manifesting an effortless marbling that truly reflected her life.

I'd always figured she discovered black culture (including the music) as an adult, fell in love with it, became inspired by it, and created music within the framework of the black aesthetic as a natural progression. It wasn't until I read a recent news piece about her that I learned she was actually raised around black people. It's no wonder her personality, demeanor, and locution came off so authentically. She didn't model her sound and style off of any specific artist like many of the contrived "blue-eyed soul" artists do, and then have some marketing machine force-feed her down our throats. Her sound was uniquely her own and added to the rich fabric of R&B music rather than regurgitating a pale imitation of it. She had a genuine love for soul music and just let that love express itself naturally in her body of work. That authenticity--along with her skillful writing, singing, and musicianship--made fans of the genre gravitate towards her music without all the hype and PR peddling.

Every black fan of R&B music probably has their own list of white artists they'd consider truly and authentically soul singers/musicians. Everyone's overall list might vary, but I bet Teena would top most people's list as the epitome of "blue-eyed soul"--the standard-setter.

To give a sense of how "soulful" Teena was, picture the kind of white woman that would bring some bomb-ass potato salad to the neighborhood block party that would be all the rage--not that "German" stuff with the new potatoes and vinegar, but the good stuff with the mayo, mustard, hard-boiled eggs, and paprika! One minute you'd see her parting some child's hair with a jar of grease, barrettes, and ribbons nearby. The next, you'd see her leading the electric slide line, singing the lyrics to some obscure Funkadelic song, loud, strong, and pitch-perfect. Exhibiting the kind of behavior that would confuse all the newer black folks, having them falsely rationalize, "Oh, she must be Creole then. She Creole, right?" THAT was Teena!

There was just something genuine about her that made her easy to respect and treat as "one of our own." She wasn't one of those artists that hopped on the bandwagon of studying and imitating R&B music for the mere profit of it. And that type of artists is so dreadfully easy to spot. R&B music--at least up until the 2000's--was more than just music; it was an expression of the attitudes, personalities, and mannerisms of the artists producing the music. And a lot of that was a reflection of the black culture in which these artists were raised. Their formation as R&B singers/musicians incorporated the lifetime of experiences they'd had as members of the African-American community and it came through effortlessly and naturally in their music and mannerisms. This rich interconnection of cultural heritage, personal identity, and musical formation gets cheapened by the industry-manufactured "blue-eye soul" artists whose aping often reduces us and our mannerisms into caricatures.

Words cannot express the level of insult and irritation I've felt seeing these outsiders--some not even American, let alone African-American--get the hype, praise, recognition, and oftentimes preferential treatment over those who were raised and continue to live in the culture that inspired the music in the first place. Seeing these artists use "urban" music as a stepping stone to their intended careers of as pop artists, rock stars, or even actors--e.g. Pink, Mark Walberg, etc.--once the "Ooh-look!-A-white-person-who-can-sing/rap-like-a black-person!" fad dies down only adds insult to injury. So the fact that Teena always stayed true to R&B music makes her even more endearing to fans of the genre like myself.

Teena's biggest hit was "Lovergirl," which was probably one of her least R&B-sounding songs. She could have ridden the wave of success by altering her sound and style to retain the popular audience she'd garnered with that hit, but instead she went back to her R&B roots with follow-up albums that produced hits like "If I Were a Bell," "Still in Love," and, yours truly, "Ooo La La La." I actually could never get into these later songs; for me, the magic was in her earlier 80's tunes like "Behind the Groove," "Aladdin's Lamp," "Turnin' Me On," and "Now That I Have You." But even though her later songs were less appealing to me personally, I still respected her longevity and her ability to make hits that still resonated with her audience as a whole--and for decades after she debuted. Her body of work is nothing short of impressive, and for that main reason I am sorry to see her leave so soon and unexpectedly.

Teena was a genuinely talented artist who knew how to create a song--a soulful song--that really touched her fans. She is truly one of the few white artists I'd actually say made good R&B music--not good R&B music for a white person, but good R&B music PERIOD! She has my utmost respect, and so with her passing, I have now made it a point to listen to every song that is currently being played on the radio in her memory. As fate would have it, "Ooo La La La" is the one in the heaviest rotation nowadays. So instead of changing the station to avoid that corny "ooo la la la" riff, I'm leaving it on to play for the song's entire duration. And wouldn't you know it? The song has actually grown on me and has become an earworm of sorts, the kind that can only be satisfied by playing the song--over and over again. In other words, I can't get enough that song now--after all this time!

So Teena, Sweet Thing, you've finally won me over with this one. Without a doubt, you've got me singing "Ooo La La La" and other songs along with countless others who appreciate your musicianship and your dedication to the R&B genre. Rest in peace, Soul Sista.