43. Sister Sledge, "Lost in Music" (1979)

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The Chic brothers, Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards, never strayed far from a fairly predictable set of lyrical concerns, which is one of the reasons I love them as much as I do: living well, experiencing joy, and dancing. Sometimes feeling sad. That about covers it. One subset dedicated itself narrowly to the pleasures of music itself—the 1983 "In Love With Music" by the flagship Chic is a good example. But this is the best, from Sister Sledge, one of their greatest side projects, particularly with the We Are Family album that houses it. It feels like a statement of purpose, a virtual manifesto. All the usual elements are in place: bass and funky guitar chops locked in groove, the powerful, sweet undertow, the keyboards/strings establishing a swirling, soaring context, and then the glorious harmonies and interplay of the Sledge sisters, who sound vaguely hypnotized and helpless before the power of the music in which they declare they are lost—and in which they are obviously fully engaged. It's inspiring in its single-mindedness: "We're lost in music / Feel so alive / I quit my 9 to 5." The verses get down to details, elaborating on the pleasures of performance and throwing everything away for it: "Some people ask me / What are you gonna be / Why don't you go get a job, uh-uh / All that I could say / I won't give up my music / Not me, not now, no way, no how, oh...oh..." There's even a throwaway reference to "Suspicious Minds" ("caught in a trap")—who knows what the hell it's doing there. To me it's just more evidence of the sheer abandon to music itself, the abstracted ideal, an underlining of the point simply because they can. Simply because they saw the opportunity and did.

"Rapper's Delight" (1980)

24. Sugarhill Gang, "Rapper's Delight" (Jan. 5, 1980, #36)

Brainchild of Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers, backing in—yeah, for sure, that's the bass from "Good Times," literally, along with generous helpings of its guitar licks too—and Fab Five Freddy, Wonder Mike, Master Gee, and Big Bank Hank occupying the house with unmitigated serene confidence, plus a big shout-out to impresario Sylvia Robinson who scored a sexy hit in 1973, "Pillow Talk," and a few years later was beating the bushes around New York for rappers willing to put it down in her studio. There aren't many songs you can get your thumb right down on as "visionary" and/or "ahead of their time" and/or "a glimpse of the future," but this one is all that, and make no mistake. One of the first genuine 12-inch hits, the various Sugarhill principals take turns stepping up to the mic to rap, introducing each other round-robin style, with the energized Chic sounds driving it all at a comfortable pace. What's that they say? It starts, "I said a hip hop the hippie the hippie to the hip hip hop, a you don't stop the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat," and it continues, "I got bodyguards, I got two big cars that definitely ain't the wack I got a Lincoln Continental and a sunroof Cadillac so after school I take a dip in the pool which really is on the wall I got a color TV so I can see the Knicks play basketball," and it goes like that. The only version I have on my hard drive is the full magnificent 14:37 though even the shortest I was able to find by tooling around a little on the Internet is a shade over five minutes, which is still pretty long for a top 40 hit, certainly in 1980.

"Good Times" (1979)

94. Chic, "Good Times" (July 7, 1979, #1)

Perhaps nothing suits the blasted heat of the deep summer as nicely as Chic, the kind of sweltering heat that endures into the evening and well into the night, the kind that drives everyone out to find something to do. Or maybe that's just the way I remember it. Dancing and loud music at any rate are usually the right place to start, which makes this sparkling, exuberant #1 hit a fine go-to in such moments. "Good Times" may not stand as the best thing Chic ever did—it's arguably monotone, lacking certain dynamics they achieved with ease elsewhere, such as melody. But it's unmistakably Bernard Edwards on bass, Nile Rodgers on guitar, boisterous chick singers, strings and keyboards darting in and out all over the place, and a light touch (always the Chic specialty) on the normally heavy four-on-the-floor disco beat. All in themselves those qualities make it eternally lasting dance music, the apotheosis of everything that made Chic great, celebrating the simple pleasures ("clams on the half shell and roller skates, roller skates") with a relish that is positively infectious. And they were rewarded for it with their last chart hit, happily going out on a #1, shortly before embarking on the best work of their careers—the albums Risque, which spawned this, Real People, Take it Off, Tongue in Chic, and Believer are uniformly brilliant, though you would never know it from the sales figures. But do not let me digress too hastily into sidelines harrumphing. Even "Dance, Dance, Dance (Yowsah, Yowsah, Yowsah)" and "Le Freak" still have precious Chic qualities to recommend them. And even more does "Good Times," as its title and everything about it shouts right out loud.

Chic-ism (1992)

"Chic Mystique" I am likely branding myself a hopelessly myopic Chic fan, but I found this return from the group's long hiatus on a par with practically any of their releases save the very best (Risque, Real People). (I'd have to rank the solo Rodgers I've heard up there as well, and never did get a chance to hear the Edwards solo). Maybe that was just anticipation? I don't think so. Nile Rodgers, Bernard Edwards, and the rest of the crew prove themselves greater than the sum of their parts. Pure chemistry reigns here. Building on the starched buppie foundation they laid even before the term was common, it's uniformly as dancefloor-ready as it is coiffed and groomed ... except, perhaps, for those who are not myopic fans?

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The Best of Chic, Vol. 2 (1978-1983)

"26" If you like the first collection, you'll probably like this one more. It nods to a few hidden gems on the better known albums, such as the gorgeous and affecting "At Last I Am Free" from C'est Chic. But it devotes most of its attention to the four albums of the early '80s: Real People, Take It Off, Tongue in Chic, and Believer, none of which produced a hit. While admittedly patchy, each had more high points than low, and it remains fair to call them criminally overlooked. This is incomplete, but it's a fine sampling of music fresh as a shirt from the dry cleaners, crisp and creased and ready to be worn and used well. A night on the town, funny, sophisticated, witty, wry, and dopey by turns. Endless fine moments, bootylicious, danceriffic, hip-shaking, calibah wack in, boodley daken. Nobody sweats outside of gym or bedroom, everyone dances, and they all look very, very good.

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Dance, Dance, Dance: The Best of Chic (1977-1979)

"Good Times" Personally, I have always had more problem with the louts who shrieked "Disco Sucks" while putting the torch to albums -- which presumably they had purchased? -- than with "disco" itself. Besides, I think of Chic as existing well above and beyond any of that. Giorgio Moroder's four-on-the-floor throbbers seem to me the better example of the disco that was said to suck (but doesn't). Chic came with a lot of rock band trappings, based on superb guitarist Nile Rodgers and supple bassist Bernard Edwards and music played in real time. I know artists like Bob Seger, Tom Petty, Pink Floyd, or Meatloaf are possessed of infinitely more rock gravitas than Chic. But this is the stuff I turn to when I need a lift, and it rarely fails.