As we reflect on the death of Whitney Houston, it's important to remember the era during which she emerged. The 1980s were not only a time when technology began to take over the music industry in the form of drum machines, synthesizers and sampling keyboards, but also a time of cultural conservatism. The baby boomer generation of the 1950s and 1960s enjoyed a broad (if waning) influence in pop culture. We like to remember that electronic music, hip-hop and post-punk (which evolved into indie rock) came of age back then. But we often forget that those new and exciting sounds were far removed from the corporate rock and adult contemporary mainstream.
The world of black music was no different. The charts were dominated mostly by artists who launched their careers during the 1960s. The music they produced was often incredible -- indeed, this era is celebrated as the heyday of "boogie funk" and "post-disco," a brief oasis for musicians increasingly threatened by the insurgent hip-hop horde. But it could also be very bland and safe. Much like their white counterparts, older black-music fans were retreating to the safe comforts of the quiet storm, a programming term for classic soul, smooth jazz and lots of ballads. (Nelson George writes lucidly about this period in his book The Death of Rhythm and Blues.)
Black artists trying to break their audience's stupor had an additional problem: the music industry in the 1980s was extremely segregated. We've all heard about how Columbia Records had to force MTV to play Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" because the channel rarely programmed black songs in heavy rotation. Between 1981 and 1985, only three black artists reached No. 1 on the album charts: Jackson, Prince and Lionel Richie. In 1981 and 1982, there were none. Pop radio was scarcely any better: only four songs by black artists reached No. 1 during those two years.
This is why Jackson is viewed as a pioneer. After black artists were consigned to the margins following the demise of disco, the groundbreaking popularity of Thriller forced the industry to recognize them again. But don't assume that Jackson, Houston and others were underground or alternative. Inexplicably, and even with major labels supporting them with vast financial resources, they often had trouble gaining wide acceptance. But they were always meant to.
As a result, Jackson, Prince and others who managed to break through the glass ceiling were called "crossover" stars, because they managed to cross over to the mainstream (ie: white) audience. (Of course, this terminology relies on the assumption that white people usually didn't listen to black music, another misconception.) Black musicians appealed to fans of hard rock (Tina Turner, Prince), adult contemporary (Anita Baker), and/or that strange mix of synthesized dance music that typified '80s pop (The Pointer Sisters, Houston). This Cheat Sheet covers black artists who earned platinum or better sales between 1981 and 1986. (The sole outlier is the electro-funk band Midnight Star, which went double platinum with No Parking on the Dance Floor despite a total lack of pop radio support.)
Luckily, this "crossover" nonsense started to taper off when a generation of younger artists finally took over the pop charts in the late '80s. They were led by artists like Janet Jackson, perhaps the last of her era to be saddled with the condescending "crossover" label. Appropriately, her breakthrough album was called Control.