Freddie Jackson Won’t Sell His Soul for a Pop Hit

“That . . . that George Michael,” soul singer Freddie Jackson groused. “Who does he think he is? We’ve gotta stop him.”

Realizing his statement might have sounded too harsh, he diplomatically backtracked: “Just kidding, George, wherever you are--just kidding.”

But he wasn’t.

Freddie Jackson, a soul balladeer with an enormous black following, clearly sees Michael, a handsome young Englishman with a black vocal style, as an invader.

“He’s doing better on the black charts than the black singers,” Jackson, 29, continued huffily, voicing an opinion that many black singers have expressed in private, but rarely make public. “What gives? The brothers must not be doing something right if he can come in and take over.

“Listen, the black man is still the soul singer,” he asserted. “People like George Michael and Michael Bolton (who recently made the charts with a version of ‘Sitting on the Dock of the Bay’) are good singers. I’m not taking anything from them. White singers can have soul too, but it’s not the same as black soul. Black singers are born with soul, we live it.”

As his intensity grew, his monologue began to sound like a sermon.

“I grew up in Harlem, eating collard greens and fried chicken,” continued Jackson, who’s noted for his candor. “That’s not learned soul, it’s not acquired in some singing school or from copying what you hear on records. I live soul. That’s what you hear in my music or in the music of any black singer.

“That George Michael hasn’t been through any of that. Who does he think he is?”

This isn’t sour grapes. Jackson is no lightweight. If anybody has a right to claim the black charts as his territory, he does. He’s been a giant on the black charts since his first solo album, “Rock Me Tonight,” a 1985 release, ruled for 16 straight weeks.

The follow-up, “Just Like the First Time,” was just as dominant. Both sold more than 1.5 million units, mostly to black fans--black female fans--who swoon at his caressing, romantic, ultra-soulful sound. He’s also had a string of hit black-chart singles--including “Rock Me Tonight,” “You Are My Lady, “Tasty Love” and “A Little Bit More,” a duet with Melba Moore.

Jackson’s new Capitol Records album, “Don’t Let Love Slip Away,” is due out July 19. The first single, “Nice and Slow,” has just been released. A New Yorker, Jackson was in town recently to film a video for that single.

One recent morning, as he waited in his dressing room for filming to start, he ruminated about his career and the state of soul singing. Jovial and personable nearly all the time, Jackson fumed only at the mention of Michael.

“And another thing, he got to sing with sister Aretha (Franklin),” Jackson said, referring to Michael’s duet with Franklin, “I Knew You Were Waiting (for Me),” which was a No. 1 pop single. “That’s when it started. That’s when the black audience turned on to him.”

Sitting at a desk in his dressing room, Jackson spat out in half-mock, half-real anger: “ I wanted to sing with sister Aretha. That should have been me singing that song. What’s going on here?”

What’s going on is that George Michael is a star in both the pop and soul markets. Jackson is a major figure in the black market only. Pop stardom, so far, has eluded him.

Michael charmed pop masses with a style heavily rooted in soul. He’s a pop star who also appeals to black fans. Jackson, however, began with a strong base in the black market. His attempts at crossing over to pop haven’t worked so far. Many pop fans have never heard of him.

Jackson candidly admitted that he lusts after pop stardom. And glory, he insisted, has nothing to do with it. He closed his eyes and sensuously chanted his true motive:

“Money, money, money, money, money, money and more money, money, money. . . .”

There’s often a price for pop crossover. It could cost Jackson a large share of his black following. Whitney Houston and Lionel Richie, two black singers who are among the biggest stars in the pop market, are paying the price. There’s a fierce backlash against them. Many blacks now ignore their music, charging that it’s too whitewashed.

Referring to the crossover backlash, Jackson noted: “I’m not going to mention any names, but I listen to certain artists who have crossed over and wonder how they could do that to themselves, how they could have turned their soulful music into vanilla. The thing is, they have to sit and listen to that music themselves. I don’t know how they can. Sure, you make some sacrifices, but you don’t ruin your music, you don’t strip all the soul off it.”

To become a pop star, Jackson needs the support of pop radio. So far, his records have had limited pop exposure because they’re considered too black. On his new album, Jackson did made some concessions to pop radio.

“They’re not major changes,” he insisted. “The songs on this album are more refined. The producers toned down certain songs. For one thing, they toned down the bass. It’s a softer approach. The pop stations don’t like too much bass on ballads, which black songs tend to have. But the bass isn’t turned all the way down. So black fans won’t play the album at home and say: ‘What is this?’

“Also, I don’t do some of the vocal acrobatics--those wild riffs--that I usually do. The producers told me to cut a lot of that stuff out and save it for my shows. It’s easier for people to sing along with the songs when I don’t use all those vocal acrobatics. You see, pop fans don’t like their music too complicated. They like it straight-ahead. But even without those fancy riffs, my music isn’t sterile. It’s still me--it’s still Freddie.”

His No. 1 priority, Jackson stressed, is his black fans:

“They’re tough, they have a real attitude. You can’t put your music through heavy changes for the white fans and still expect black fans to stick by you. They’ll turn their backs on you in a minute. They’ll tell you: ‘You can’t do all that for the white fans and still expect us to still be in your corner.”

What all black artists--Jackson included--would like to do is appeal to the pop audience without making massive changes in their music. It is possible.

“Look at all the blacks singers who were able to cross over to the pop market without selling out--Marvin Gaye, Sam Cooke, Al Green and some others,” Jackson pointed out. “They were pop stars on their terms. That’s the way I want to do it.”

And if his crossover attempts fail?

“Remember, crossover is just icing on the cake,” he said. “I have millions of black fans who like my music just as it is. I’d be a fool to turn my back on that audience.”

Jackson, who’s somewhat portly and not classically handsome, doesn’t look like your typical sexy, romantic singer. But looks obviously aren’t everything. Women--black women in particular--respond to him rapturously. His core audience is black women in their 20s and 30s. At his shows, they swoon over this unlikely looking sex symbol.

And it’s not quiet, respectful swooning, like you get at Johnny Mathis shows. Often his fans get rowdy. “You should see some of the stuff that the women in the front rows do to get my attention,” he said, chuckling. “They even throw their underwear up on stage. When I’m up there, they fantasize about me singing to them. Right then, I’m their man.”

Not one to puncture fans’ fantasies, Jackson keeps his private life very private. “I don’t want them to know what I do,” he said. “When I’m with whoever I want to be with, that’s nobody else’s business. I’d rather keep my life private so the fans can keep their fantasies about me. I don’t want to spoil anything for them.”

Jackson, who grew up in Harlem, has been a ballad fan ever since he was young. “I remember going to the Apollo Theater and seeing Gladys Knight, Aretha Franklin, James Brown, Muddy Waters and many others. It was their ballads that really moved me.”

Singing in church helped Jackson develop his style. Even there, his specialty was slow songs. “They knew that’s what I liked,” he said. “That’s what they gave me to sing. The slow stuff touches the heart and hits people right in their emotions. That’s what I’ve always liked to do.”

Using smooth singers like Nat Cole and Sam Cooke as his models, Jackson honed his vocal style. While working full-time as a word processor, he sang with bands and did backup singing until he got his big break. Impressed by one of this performances, singer Melba Moore helped him get a contract with her management company, Hush Productions, which got him a deal with Capitol Records.

Since 1985 he and Luther Vandross have been the top male soul balladeers, beating back all black challengers, including Alexander O’Neal. And then, from out of nowhere, George Michael pranced onto the black charts.

Issuing a challenge, Jackson said: “Look out, George Michael, Freddie’s back. This is my territory you’re messing with. I’m taking over now.”