Eventually Simon and his sister—whose City Heat project was signed to a short-lived two-single deal on Chrysalis Records—got to go straight to the front of the queue at the Africa Centre and enter for free. Jazzie had liked what he heard on the 12-inch and asked Simon if he would like to collaborate and play keys on a few sessions. In honor of the association with the Funki Dreds, Simon joked to Jazzie that he would call himself the Funky Ginger and the name stuck. “It was obvious, innit?” says Law. Any sound system worth their saltfish would have had their very own “special,” an exclusive track pressed to a 10-inch dub plate (also known as an acetate). Soul II Soul’s special was a floor- filler called “Fairplay” that sounded like a hybrid of Chicago house, with its stuttering riff and some gurgling, James Brown funk. “The rhythm was our theme song back in the day,” says Jazzie. “Originally, the idea for ‘Fairplay’ was a groove that we would mix Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech to, over the top. Then you’d have everyone from Do’reen to Rose singing to it. It evolved like that, like our little anthem thing.” The final version, utilizing the talent hanging at the club on Sundays, included Andrew Levy on bass guitar (soon to be of the Brand New Heavies) and two regulars—cowriters of “Fairplay”—both of whom would become part of the band’s first official lineup; featured lead vocalist Rose Windross, who had previously released a solo album, Just Rose , on reggae label Ital Records, and percussionist, future super-producer Nellee Hooper. Born in the South West of England, Hooper began his career in post-punk band Maximum Joy. He later became a DJ as a member of the Bristol-based sound system, the Wild Bunch (that would eventually morph into the ’90s trip-hop group Massive Attack). At twenty-five years old, Nellee was a man of slender build, with pale skin, short, gelled hair, and a hint of a mustache on his upper lip, looking like he was permanently in the first week of Movember. “Nellee brought some knowledge and confidence to the studio,” says Law. “Having worked with the Wild Bunch, he was the more experienced producer at that time, compared to Jazzie and me. I always felt he had a clear vision in his head of what he wanted to hear.” He was a laugh as well, says Law—on one occasion breaking out into a Vic Reeves–style, drunk pub-singer rendition of “Fairplay.” “There was always great banter when Nellee was around; he’s a really funny bloke.” The British scene took “Fairplay” seriously though, turning it into a huge club hit in 1988 when it came out on Virgin Records dance subsidiary Ten Records. It also dented the mainstream Top 100, getting to number sixty-three on a U.K. chart saturated by American artists.
The mix had been done at the upmarket Britannia Row Recording Studios. Jazzie B had connections there, having worked as a soundman for Tommy Steele and Brit funk/soul group Central Line earlier in the decade. “Our maintenance engineer was a friend of Jazzie’s and cut him a cheap rate to do a mix one night,” says Arabella Rodriguez from her home in Roccalbegna, Tuscany, a part of Italy so remote, the population density is less than that of Siberia. Rodriguez was a fledgling engineer at the studio, which was owned by Pink Floyd drummer Nick Mason. “It was rather posh,” says Arabella who would go on to mix every song on Club Classic Vol. One . “That was the first time we worked together, and the chemistry was good, so they came back.” On the strength of “Fairplay,” Virgin Records signed Soul II Soul to a two-single deal that would extend to an album based on performance. “We were already cracking eggs and onions way before some of these White executive record company guys even took an interest,” says Jazzie. “But we were a dream for a record company, because it wasn’t an artist signing a deal; it was a producer signing a deal, so it don’t get no better for the record company than that because they would never have any problems because all of the artists who were signed through the production. It was based around us, as a sound system, doing our own thing.” Meanwhile, the Funki Dreds were selling out of merch, as word got around beyond London that the Africa Centre was the place to be. Such was Jazzie B’s presence and influence at the time that on one bank holiday weekend, he took to the mic to persuade the crowd to move on to another club so that the throng gathered on the waiting-line outside wouldn’t miss out on the experience. The exiting crowd even gave him a round of applause. Larger crowds eventually meant moving on to bigger venues, to places like the Fridge in Brixton, which held a capacity of 1800. But if it seemed busy in 1988, it was about to go supernova the following year with the release of their first Top Ten hit, the British soul masterpiece “Keep On Movin’.” “We all went to the club to dance,” says Law. “That’s how Rose [Windross] got involved, and that’s how Caron Wheeler got involved too.” Having taken a sabbatical from the female backing vocalist duo Afrodiziak, Caron Wheeler made Jazzie B’s acquaintance through a mutual friend. Recounting the story on the TV show Later with Jools Holland , Jazzie told how Wheeler was working in a library when they first met: “Yeah, my friend, a wonderful photographer/ songwriter called Jamie Morgan [it was Jamie’s photography that featured on the iconic cover art to Club Classics Vol. One ], said, ‘There’s this crazy chick who’s done all these vocals for me in the past. You should really hear her.’” Upon meeting in
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