Happy 30th Anniversary to Paula Abdul’s second studio album Spellbound, originally released May 14, 1991.
Paula Abdul is an inspiration to anyone told not to quit their day job. Before singing took off, she paid her rent in eight-counts. She was the go-to girl for iconic choreography from the wedding sequence in Coming to America to elaborate routines for Janet Jackson’s Control videos (with a cute cameo in “Nasty”). Her Tracey Ullman Show work won an Emmy, but her drive was too strong to remain behind the scenes.
Ultimately, her multiplatinum debut Forever Your Girl (1988) would place her in the arena with Jackson, Jody Watley, and Madonna as a peer and competitor. That record introduced her instantly recognizable voice, movie-star good looks, and star quality to the world. Despite radio and television ubiquity, she still had to contend with the same droning complaint: “She’s a mediocre singer.”
Abdul bravely addressed this with Maria Shriver, “I don't profess to be this incredible singer, but I think I'm a good singer, and I think I'm a great performer.” All she wanted was to entertain, but good God, she’d have to dodge a hail of bullets first. She was about to release her sophomore album Spellbound when the mess hit the fan.
In early 1991, Yvette Marine slapped the pop star and her label Virgin Records with a multi-million dollar lawsuit alleging that Marine, not Abdul, actually sang lead on parts of Forever Your Girl. The timing just couldn’t have been worse.
Milli Vanilli were excoriated in 1989 for lip syncing Girl You Know It’s True. And disco soul empress Martha Wash became a one-woman legal industry in 1990 suing C+C Music Factory, Black Box, and labels Sony, A&M, and RCA for using her uncredited voice on their hits.
Was Abdul the next to be exposed? Not at all. No one else sounds like Paula Abdul, but the ridiculous accusation loomed over Spellbound until its eventual dismissal in 1993.
What she could’ve used decades ago was a Chris Crocker. That’s the raccoon-eyed YouTuber whose tearful plea to “leave Britney [Spears] alone” went viral and humanized the ingénue everyone loved to hate. But there was no internet personality to rescue Abdul in 1991. Hell, there wasn’t even any internet. She was on her own, so she enlisted some backup.
Enter Peter Lord Moreland, V. Jeffrey Smith, and Sandra St. Victor, professionally known as The Family Stand. Their eclectic records could not be bothered with coloring inside the lines, but they knew the pop format well. Abdul loved their work with Aftershock and invited them to produce and co-write Spellbound with her. These fearless rock soul mercenaries brought all the necessary brawn and badassery. She wouldn’t reenlist any former collaborators until Head Over Heels (1995).
To accomplish the first task of silencing all that “Paula can’t sing” chatter, she put her voice front and center on the undeniably catchy “Rush Rush.” It was gutsy and unexpected to lead with a ballad, and her work with a vocal coach showed impressive growth. Condolences to her haters—she won this round fair and square. “Rush Rush” charted #1 in America and top 10 in multiple countries internationally.
Lord confessed to Questlove Supreme that “Rush Rush” was an homage to the songcraft of Babyface. St. Victor joked it was because she dared Lord he “couldn’t write a song with just two chords.” The Rebel Without a Cause-inspired video co-starring Keanu Reeves helped the track emerge as the disc’s biggest single.
Any unpleasantness got pushed aside on the exuberant album opener and next single “Promise of a New Day.” The song captures the energy of every January 1st resolution and makes it repeatable on CD. Abdul’s confidence is audible on the refrain and yielded a second #1.
The former Laker Girl mined sentimentality again for “Blowing Kisses In The Wind” (Pop #6), a faux-baroque midtempo that oscillates between major and minor modes. Its distinct sunshine-and-rain string arrangement was the legendary Clare Fischer’s handiwork. It’s reminiscent of The Family Stand’s “Quiet Desperation” from Moon in Scorpio (1991), but tailor-made for Abdul. Her choreography gets to do some singing too in the balletic music video.
The strongest offering on Spellbound is the busty, grooved-up “Vibeology” (Pop #16) that plays to Abdul’s strength as an energetic party starter. Her tangy vocals set off dynamite in each verse and juxtapose gloriously against a P-Funk opera on the bridge (the “choir” is just St. Victor singing “Vibeology” from each crevice of her endless range). The best parts are the “go Paula” breakdown built for sweaty, tongue-out dancing and those “horny horns” borrowed from Graham Central Station’s 1976 “Entrow.”
This was an easy win, but something went awry. After a “Vibeology” performance at the 1991 MTV Music Awards, hecklers fixated on a battery pack in her outfit remarking it made her butt look big. First of all, Paula Abdul is five-foot-nothing with weight proportionate. Furthermore, we were only a year away from Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” giving America an excuse to celebrate all things callipygian. It shouldn’t have mattered if she had junk in her trunk.
Abdul couldn’t catch a break. She was also body shamed for the vertically stretched frames in the “Promise of a New Day” video. Some claimed it hid weight gain. As an auditioning dancer, she was rejected for being too small. Then as a singer that same body was suddenly too big. What the hell?! People don’t make sense, and they talk too much. So on “Rock House,” when a ticked-off Abdul fires back, “To the critics on my jock, shut up and dance!” the objection is sustained.
It’s easier to simply enjoy the music, which Spellbound is optimized for. Its fifth single, the too-sweet “Will You Marry Me” (Pop #19) sailed just ahead of Abdul’s 1992 wedding to Emilio Estevez with its auspicious lyrics (“Think of love as wings, not a ball and chain”). The protofeminism here sports dimples and big eyes. It’s only a few doors down from being Michael Jackson’s “The Way You Make Me Feel.” Once Stevie Wonder chips in a harmonica solo, there’s little left to do but smile and sway.
The meat of this LP is delightful too. “My Foolish Heart” could have been a big single itself. The emotionality in the chorus is matched only by the big New York drums beating in its chest. Here and throughout Spellbound, musically dark brush strokes ground and accentuate the sprightly charm of Abdul’s voice and the innately rhythmic way she paints with it.
Another understated highlight is Abdul’s musical dalliance with Prince. He contributed “U,” a sexy, body-jacking flight of fancy, originally an unreleased rocker from 1979. She wears its mischief well (“U a candy-coated carousel of kickin’ little tickle-me-dos / U really do me through and through!”). Where “To You” is similarly titled, Jorge Corante and Colin England make it a redux of “Knocked Out.” And her unexpected twist is the reggae-rinsed “Alright Tonight” produced by Don Was. One would moreso expect this horn-blasted happily-ever-after from Dave Matthews Band!
Innovative live action plus 2D animation on “Opposites Attract” won Abdul a GRAMMY for Best Short Form Music Video in 1990. When it came to Spellbound though, the sole nomination was for Best Recording Package. Its gothic update on the ‘60s Bewitched aesthetic won, but the award only went to Melanie Nissen (also the art director behind Jackson’s Control).
Tastemakers were reluctant to carry Abdul on their shoulders, but pop-purchasing masses found her easy to lift. Spellbound debuted at #5 on the Billboard 200 and floated to #1, eventually earning triple-platinum certification. The supporting Under My Spell Tour grossed $7.5 million and cemented Abdul’s importance in the annals of pop music.
With Spellbound, Abdul balanced dance pop and fun funk while walking a tightrope it seemed so many wanted her to fall from. Great performers hate to disappoint an audience, but this time she could look down on them with pride saying, “Nope. Not today.”
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