And the Winner Is…

For each mention made of Curt Moore’s contributions to North Carolina music, one must be made of his progressive role in the Miss Black North Carolina Pageants and of his far-flung triumphs in Black entrepreneurship. Here he poses with a trophy awarded to him by Fuller Products for outstanding sales. “Some people may have had more money, but no one had more fun,” Moore muses. Other slices of wisdom? The most beautiful women in the world live in Dallas, Texas. You’re welcome.

Although not a musician per se, Moore did write a good deal of music over the course of his career. And while Carolina Soul posts have already been dedicated to the self-explanatory “Legend of Otis Redding” and “Salute to Black Women,” none have been dedicated to his numerous works of spoken word, which range from inspirational and motivational to humorous and insightful. “I always knew there was money to be made by talking on records,” Moore professes. “I just didn’t know you had to say all this stuff about people’s mamas and grandmamas.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him what rappers consider fair game these days. 

Special thanks to friend and documentary wizard Frank Eaton for capturing this Kodak Moment. 

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“Devil of Love” by Curt Moore

Oh Jams: The Plight of the Jam Machine - Part Two

With the station’s livelihood and listenership on the line, the team of hammer-wielding engineers employed a ‘low-yield nuclear device’ to incapacitate the irreparable Jam Machine. A rational alternative to unplugging it, the machine’s final moments were miraculously captured on tape, marking a new beginning for the station. The first song of the new dawn? A hard-earned, unabridged “Teddy’s Jam,” succeeded by En Vogue’s “My Lovin’ (You’re Never Gonna Get It).” Individuals whose love we never received? Former jock and hope advocate, the Bushman, who has long-since relocated to Detroit’s WJLB, eventually portraying himself in the Eminem biopic 8 Mile. Kendall B, now at Denver’s KS 107.5, also declined to comment. Conspiracy? Thankfully Madd Hatta, who celebrates 15 years at Houston’s KBXX-FM, did reach out to Carolina Soul, confessing, “I was still part-time, so I wasn’t really a part of it, but I do remember it being funny.” Despite the surrendered ad revenue and inadvertent exposure to radiation, the Jam Machine Disaster of 1992 did push WJMH into the hearts and presets of Piedmont residents, giving an enduring platform to urban-contemporary visionaries like Color Me Badd, Freak Nasty, and Soulja Boy: a success story of Chernobyl proportions.

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The Plight of the Jam Machine - Part Two

Oh Jams: The Plight of the Jam Machine - Part One

Spring 1992: Greensboro’s 102 Jams purchases a Jam Machine, an electronic device whose sole function was to play the opening stanza of Guy’s “Teddy’s Jam.” A starter pistol for call-in contests, or a plagiarized station ID by the godfather of New Jack Swing, the device was exceeding expectations until one day when the Jam Machine famously malfunctioned. The result: a seamless stream of “Jams Oh Jams Oh Jams Oh Jams.” Phone lines were jammed (pun intended), and explanations were withheld. Finally, after nearly 48 hours, the entire staff emerged on air to take calls from their bewildered audience. It went like this:

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The Plight of the Jam Machine - Part One

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The Carolina Soul website serves as a living encyclopedia of soul music made in North and South Carolina. We strive to share Carolinian songs and stories of the last half century, and we invite the input of musicians and fans. We hope you will contact us if you have information on bands or recordings from the region.

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