by Ayanna Costley
If you were to visit 430 Broad Street in Newark, NJ, in 2021, you would be met by the Rutgers Business School looming in the near distance, bus stops, and the light rail station. There would be no way for you to know that the location birthed the house music known as Jersey Sound just 41 years ago. Two decades later, at the turn of the millennium, a new generation of DJs and producers created yet another revolutionary sound, Jersey Club music. While Jersey Sound followed cues from Chicago’s house music innovations in the 70s, Jersey Club music looked to Baltimore for inspiration in the early 2000s. These aren’t disconnected moments in history. Both Jersey Sound and Jersey Club Music represent generations and city-defining sounds that stand the test of time.
In 1979, 1500 patrons arrived at The Lincoln Motel on Broad Street for Club Zanzibar’s Labor Day Weekend grand opening. The club, outfitted with vines, velvet, flowers, and even live tigers, created the perfect backdrop for the bold, eccentric fashions of the late 70s and emerging 80s. Zanzibar’s sound was an undeniable product of the 80s as well with DJs spinning sophisticated, soulful disco like MFSB’s “Love is The Message.” Everyday people flocked to the club as an escape from the realities of life. Celebrities like Kool & the Gang and Tasha Thomas also frequented the club, with Gerald T premiering “Rapper’s Delight” for the first time on the east coast at Zanzibar’s opening:
“Joe Robinson hands me a record, and I’m like, ‘Let me see what this record is.’ So I put it on to listen to, and I was like, ‘Oh, my God!’ At the time I was listening to it, I was already playing Chic’s “Good Times,” and when it got to the breakdown, it was just like this new record! I mixed the new one in when that breakdown came on, and the place went berserk.”
Not relegating itself to the dark shadows of neighboring NYC, Club Zanzibar emerged as a vibrant hotspot home to Jersey’s own house music, the burgeoning Jersey Sound. The subgenre positioned soulful lyrics and vocals atop pulsating, electronic production, departing slightly from the funk-disco heavy electronic house music born out of Chicago’s Warehouse club. Resident DJs like Hippie Torrales, Gerald T, Larry Patterson, Tee Scott, Davis Morales, Larry Levan, and Francois K all left their mark on Zanzibar and house music, but Tony Humphries, my mom says, “was a legendary DJ.” He would use house records as “mixing tools” and “bridge records” because they were easier to blend and mix, saying “If I was going to play Aretha Franklin or something, and wanted to play Luther Vandross after that, I would use a house track to get from one to the other. I would almost always go from vocals then tracks, tracks then vocals – it was easier to blend with those Thorens.” It was his relationship with Abigail Adams, owner of Movin’ Records, and Shelton Hayes, one of the club’s managers, that helped birth what they titled Jersey Sound.
City officials and real estate developers demolished Club Zanzibar in 2007, highlighting Newark officials’ and land developers’ complete disregard for the city’s culture. Former Newark Mayor and current U.S. Senator Cory Booker delivered the first blow to the cultural landmark, noting, “We’re going to see an incredible new light shine from this site. But right now, I have a lot of built-up energy that I need to unleash on this building.” Booker believed destroying the physical structure, although rampant with drug users and riddled by violence for years, would help revamp Newark’s image to benefit gentrifiers, downtown college students, and workers commuting from NYC. I argue that transforming the motel into a community art center honoring the advancements Club Zanzibar and its history would have done wonders for the Newark community instead. Nonetheless, the erasure of historically and culturally significant landmarks from our physical space makes documenting and collectively coming together to share this history extremely important.
At the turn of the new millennium Jersey Club Music emerged out of the same regional space. Originally called Brick City Club as a nod to Newark’s nickname, the music was pioneered by DJ Tameil, Tim Dolla, and other DJs/producers who took direction from the quick and aggressive sound of Baltimore club music. Social media’s rise helped spread Jersey Club music videos beyond state limits, often racking up thousands and sometimes even millions of views. Artists filmed their videos at home, in basements, parking lots, and even during parties in warehouses. Songs, sprinkled with sampled adlibs from hip-hop and R&B, built on hard drum kicks, and featuring catchy vocals that often called out dance moves, took over. One of the earliest songs that I remember is Tim Dolla’s “Swing Dat Shit.” I didn’t know if people around the country were dancing to it, but it didn’t matter because the city tuned in.
From spending hours alone learning the dances at home to showing those same moves at school talent shows or parties, Jersey Club music gave the youth autonomy to create their own culture in the same way Jersey Sound had years prior. It spread to those in other regions listening to the music, learning the dances, and even adopting the music’s characteristics to make remixes of popular songs. For my eighth-grade graduation party, my parents hired DJ Jayhood as the entertainment/DJ. In Newark, that was the equivalent of having a huge, mainstream rapper or artist at your party.
In recent years, Jersey Club has received praise and celebration from mainstream Hip-Hop and R&B artists. Whether through mutual collaboration, such as Missy Elliott working with Jersey producers in 2014, or mainstream co-opting, namely DJ Khaled and Drake’s hit record “To The Max” bearing undeniable similarities to DJ Jayhood’s 2007 “Heartbroken” remix, or Ciara’s “Level Up” which repurposed DJ Telly Tellz’s “Fuck It Up Challenge,” it is clear that Jersey Club wasn’t just a moment in time or history, it is a movement. But those artists rooted in the history and culture of Jersey Club, not just the techniques, are responsible for its explosion and export from Jersey to the world. UNIIQU3, a pioneer Jersey Club artist, started out DJing in local parties before becoming the first Black woman DJ to play at Holy Ship!, an annual electronic music festival. She’s booked gigs at Afropunk, Coachella, and even international events. In 2019, she helped launch PBNJ, an international club music sandwich made in Philly, Baltimore, and N.J., whose events highlight emerging, local talent in the club music scene, sharing east coast club culture with the world.
Most recently, Cookiee Kawaii gave her viral song, “Vibe (If I Back It Up), the video treatment, racking up two million views on Youtube, and maintaining virality across social platforms. Watching Cookiee Kawaii and her dancers sexy walk and rock their hips in a cinematic video transported me back to middle school when Ms. Porsh called out these moves on songs with DJ Lil Man and DJ Jayhood.
Imprinted on Newark’s memory and legacy, these two generations of club music have forged themselves as legitimate, generation-defining sounds, heard and celebrated not just locally, but around the country and the world. My parents had Jersey Sound, and I’ve had Jersey Club, so there’s no telling what the next generation will create out of Newark and New Jersey. The legacy is strong, and despite attempted erasure and appropriation, it will undoubtedly continue to be home-grown for generations to come.