‘Super Freak’: The Story Behind Rick James’ Punk-Funk Hit

‘Super Freak’ propelled its creator to iconic status and cemented him as the king of funk ‘n’ roll.

Despite its cultural ubiquity, Rick James’ bawdy single “Super Freak” was by no means an overnight hit. By 1979, James had more than earned his due with a series of professional accomplishments under his belt. While he achieved success as a songwriter for Motown (as well as with gold and platinum solo albums) he hadn’t yet hit the heights of celebrity, when he embarked on his headlining tour for his third album, Fire It Up. All that was soon to change. James could sense competition coming from his tour opener Prince, who he felt was encroaching on his own signature style and he was eager to prove himself as a superstar.

While his ballad-heavy Garden of Love album was well-received, garnering another gold plaque, his biggest success was his 1981 album Street Songs, an album that portrayed the real-life struggles and tribulations inspired by the gritty streets of his hometown of Buffalo, NY. Propelled by numerous hit singles including “Ghetto Life” and “Give It to Me Baby,” the album would go on to sell over 3 million copies combining elements of rock, funk, new wave, and soul. Yet, the album’s highlight was the immensely popular hit single “Super Freak,” a song that propelled its creator to iconic status and cemented him as the king of funk ‘n’ roll. Rick James had fully arrived.

While it would become Street Songs’ biggest hit, “Super Freak” was written as an afterthought. James would reflect on the process in a 1983 interview with Musician magazine, “I was in the studio and everything else for the album was done,” James recalled. “ I just put ‘Super Freak’ together really quickly. I wanted a silly song that had a bit of new wave texture to it. So I just came up with this silly little lick and expounded on it. And I put a very operatic vocal structure on it ‘cause I’m really into opera and classical music. So I put (sings in a deep voice) ‘She’s all right;’ very operatic, sort of funny, stuff.” James blended genre and technique to create something completely unique in his mega-hit, which novelty aside, led to huge success.

The entirety of Street Songs was recorded between December 1980 and January 1981 in California for Motown’s Gordy imprint. James rallied his labelmates, The Temptations, to do the backing vocals while he improvised lyrics over the wildly addictive, funk instrumental. He was supposedly not particularly excited by the results but could see the potential for the track’s crossover appeal. His instincts were correct as “Super Freak” conquered the sales charts, eventually selling a million copies of the single alone.

“Super Freak” was a bonafide smash hit and a career-defining song for Rick James. Primed for MTV, James was a charismatic performer with a bold visual style perfect for the video era, and he radiated on the screen in the “Super Freak” music video, surrounded by hyped-up dancers. Critical acclaim soon followed as James was nominated for Best Male Rock Vocal Performance at the 1982 Grammys for the song. Follow-up success with Eddie Murphy’s “Party All The Time” and the Mary Jane Girls’ “All Night Long” continued for the punk-funk pioneer but he never achieved the dizzying heights of “Super Freak” commercially again.

Like most artists, James’ career had many peaks and valleys. He embodied his libertine image a bit too literally and ended up serving a two-year prison term in the late 90s before entering rehab and releasing the album Urban Rapsody in 1997. While James spent most of the decade out of the public eye, his best-loved song would have a new life on the charts. “Super Freak”s infectious riff was repurposed for another smash hit, this time for Oakland rapper MC Hammer, whose “U Can’t Touch This” sampled the song and propelled Hammer to mega-fame in 1990. James eventually received proper songwriting credit and reaped the financial rewards. Incidentally, the song would earn him his only Grammy, when it won Best R&B Song in 1991 and he was recognized for composing the song.

Rick James’ place in pop culture remains as prominent as his music with his generation introducing appearance on the Chapelle Show in 2004, but “Super Freak” has remained his calling card, enduring beyond its early 80s debut and becoming a perennial party classic. It’s no wonder new generations continue to rediscover its unmistakable groove.

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hahahaha...memories!

When I was in my twenties, my buddies and I had a guy hanging around with us in his forties, and he was a real character! Everyone had a story about him, and a characteristic one was him, beer in hand at some party, singing:

"...She's a funky kind of girl...mm....mm....the kind you don't bring home to Muthaaaaaaaa..."

Sigh. So many memories! He was one of those guys at a party who would just disappear later in the evening without telling anyone.

He was politically more of a Libertarian than a Conservative, and used to view the government with the same degree of skepticism and alarm that many of us have today, but back in the Eighties, he was far ahead of his time, and was quite vocal and opinionated about it!

We used to egg him on and say provocative things, kind of like pulling the cord on a lawnmower, and he would usually respond, we thought it was great entertainment.

Another time, a group of us had gone to watch a fireworks show on a crowded grassy hillside near a city, where you drove your car up there and parked it on the grass, and as we were leaving in a station wagon, the rear hatch was up with him sitting on in the back with his legs draped over the bumper, beer in hand, and as we were driving away at slow speed, some unknown stringy hippie-type older chick was running after the car, screaming at him, her face twisted in furious anger at him and shouting filthy epithets while he laughed uproariously as only he could, interspersing his laughter with a bellowed "Run, Girl, Run!!!", grinning madly as he did so, his beer-bearing hand with a characteristic Milller Light in it bobbing up and down!

We never knew what caused the altercation with that woman, but for years after, we all shared that memory of him for some reason and would laugh in reminiscence.

Hahahahaha... him and his Miller Lights. He would often hold one out in front of him, and look at it contemplatively as he murmured definitively in a low, mellow, commercial-grade mode: "Miller Light, my boy. The Champagne of Bottled Beer."

The memory of him we all treasured was him, standing in front of his car, beating on the hood with his fist and bellowing: "I'll tell you, this country has gone to shit! You can't even drive around and drink a six pack anymore!"

My buddy, who worked with him, said he turned to him once (after having an argument with his manager about something and still in earshot) "You wanna hear a good joke? AMERICAN INDUSTRY!" and abruptly broke out in that characteristic, boisterous and rowdy mouth-wide-open laugh as he shoved his outsized face wreathed in mirth, his eyes nearly closed, closer to my buddy's face, making it seem even bigger! (That was also a characteristic move we all thought was hilarious!)

He was a one-of-a kind, a real personality. We lost track of him. We all suspected that he went off the grid, no telephone, no internet, maybe even no electricity, living inside of a Faraday Cage somewhere, partly out of some kind of paranoia that the government was tracking him (like I said, ahead of his time!)

He was at least twenty years older than all of us, and for years, when we would get together at some event, we would all stand around telling stories about him. He is probably gone now, but somehow, he still lives on inside our brains, and when we hear that song play, we all grin and look at each other, thinking simultaneously with him and that Miller Light in his hand:

"...She's a funky kind of girl...mm....mm....the kind you don't bring home to Muthaaaaaaaa..."

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