Remember What You Like

The Unsung Groove: Unraveling "Remember What You Like" by Jenny Burton (1984)

In the electric haze of the early 1980s, when New York City's club scene pulsed with the raw energy of disco's evolution into house and freestyle, Jenny Burton stepped into the spotlight with a track that captured the era's unfiltered joy. "Remember What You Like," released in 1984, wasn't just a song—it was a snapshot of Burton's soulful journey through the music world, blending R&B grit with dancefloor euphoria. As someone who's spent years digging into these forgotten gems, I find Burton's story endlessly captivating, a reminder of how one-hit wonders often hide the most human struggles and triumphs.

The Spark of Creation: From Backup Singer to Frontwoman

Jenny Burton wasn't born a solo star; she honed her voice in the shadows of legends. By the late 1970s, she'd become a go-to backup singer for icons like Ashford & Simpson and Chaka Khan, her harmonies weaving through hits that defined soul and funk. But the itch to lead was strong. In 1983, amid the post-disco boom, Burton linked up with producer/songwriter Leon Sylvers III—fresh off crafting The Whispers' platinum sound—and his brother, bassist Ricky Sylvers. They were all chasing that elusive club anthem, something that could make bodies move while tugging at the heart.

The song's creation was pure serendipity, born in casual jam sessions at Sigma Sound Studios in Philadelphia. Burton recalls in old interviews how the idea crystallized one rainy afternoon: she wanted a track about reclaiming personal joy, a subtle nod to relationships gone sour but with an upbeat twist. "It was like therapy on the dancefloor," she once said. The lyrics—simple, repetitive pleas to "remember what you like"—emerged from Burton's own life, reflecting her divorce and the empowerment of rediscovering self-love. An interesting anecdote? During early demos, Sylvers accidentally looped a bassline from a Whispers outtake, turning what could have been a ballad into a funky groove that screamed radio potential. No grand plan, just raw inspiration colliding in the studio's humid air.

Recording in the Heat of the Moment

Recording "Remember What You Like" felt like capturing lightning. At Power Station in NYC, a hub for 80s magic, Burton laid down vocals in one intense all-nighter. The team used state-of-the-art synths and live horns to layer that infectious rhythm, with Sylvers on bass driving the pulse. Burton's voice, rich and commanding, cut through the mix like a beacon—think Tina Turner meets early Madonna, but with more soul. They pushed for a freestyle edge, adding congas and claps that echoed the underground parties of the Bronx. Budget was tight; it was an indie vibe on a major label's dime via Atlantic Records. Burton later laughed about spilling coffee on the lyric sheet mid-take, forcing an improv that made the chorus even catchier. Those imperfections? They gave the track its lived-in warmth, far from the polished sterility of some contemporaries.

Release, Rise, and the Charts' Embrace

Dropped in 1984 as the lead single from Burton's debut album Queen of the Night, "Remember What You Like" hit like a summer storm. Atlantic pushed it to urban radio and clubs, where DJs like Larry Levan spun it into frenzy at the Paradise Garage. It climbed to No. 62 on the Billboard R&B chart, a solid debut that outsold expectations for a newcomer. Success came in waves—club remixes extended its life, and it became a staple in East Coast sets. But fame was fleeting; the album fizzled, and Burton returned to session work. Still, that single's spark led to tours and a loyal following, proving one hit could sustain a career's undercurrent.

Echoes in Culture: A Bridge Across Generations

What lingers about "Remember What You Like" is its quiet revolution. In an era of excess, it championed authenticity—urging listeners to hold onto what truly moves them, whether love or a killer beat. It bridged disco's dying embers to house's rise, influencing freestyle acts like Lisa Lisa and Exposé. Culturally, it resonated with women navigating 80s independence, its message a feminist undercurrent in pop. Today, it's sampled in underground mixes and rediscovered on vinyl hunts, evoking nostalgia for a time when music felt communal, unscripted. Burton's hit reminds us: even in obscurity, a song can whisper truths that dance forever.