You know the hook. That booming, "Everybody dance now!" It’s arguably the most recognizable five seconds in 90s pop history. But if you try to name the C and C Music Factory members responsible for that lightning in a bottle, things get messy fast. It wasn't a "band" in the traditional sense. It was a production powerhouse that got tangled in one of the biggest lip-syncing scandals of the era, right alongside Milli Vanilli.
Behind the curtain were two guys: Robert Clivillés and David Cole. They were the "C" and "C." They weren't just guys in hats; they were the architects of the 1990s house-pop explosion. But the face you saw on TV—the powerhouse diva—wasn't always the voice you heard on the radio. That friction between image and reality is why the group's legacy is so complicated today.
The Masterminds: Clivillés and Cole
David Cole and Robert Clivillés didn't just stumble into fame. They were seasoned club DJs and producers who had already been tinkering with the freestyle and house scenes in New York. David Cole was a prodigy on the keys. Honestly, the man’s ability to bridge the gap between gospel-inflected soul and rigid electronic beats was legendary. Robert was the rhythmic backbone, the guy who understood how to make a floor move.
They formed the group in 1989. It was less of a band and more of a rotating collective. They wanted a brand they could plug different vocalists into, sort of like what Calvin Harris or Mustard does today. But in 1990, the public still wanted a cohesive unit to look at. They wanted a "group."
The Martha Wash Controversy
Here is where the history of C and C Music Factory members gets dark. "Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)" featured a massive, earth-shaking vocal. If you watched the music video, you saw Zelma Davis. She was beautiful, she was fierce, and she was clearly "singing" those big notes.
Except she wasn't.
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The voice belonged to Martha Wash. Martha was a veteran of the industry, formerly of Two Tons o' Fun and the voice behind "It's Raining Men." Because Martha didn't fit the specific "pop star" look the label wanted to market at the time, they used Zelma in the video and didn't credit Martha on the single. It was a mess. Martha Wash eventually sued, and her legal battle literally changed the way credits are handled in the music industry. She’s the reason why "vocal credit" laws are as strict as they are now. Zelma was a talented singer in her own right—she actually sang on other tracks—but for that specific anthem, she was a visual stand-in.
Freedom Williams: The Face of the Era
If David and Robert were the brains and Martha was the voice, Freedom Williams was the vibe. With his flat-top fade and chiseled physique, he was the quintessential 90s frontman. He provided the rap verses for "Gonna Make You Sweat" and "Things That Make You Go Hmmm..."
Freedom brought a certain "cool" factor that balanced out the high-energy house production. He wasn't just a rapper; he was a performer who knew how to command a stage. However, his tenure was short-lived. By the time the group’s second album, Anything Goes, rolled around in 1994, Freedom was gone. He pursued a solo career, but like so many who leave a successful machine, he found it hard to replicate that specific C+C magic.
The Changing Guard of the Mid-90s
People often forget that the lineup shifted constantly. When Freedom Williams left, the group didn't just stop. They brought in new C and C Music Factory members to fill the void.
- Zelma Davis: Despite the lip-syncing drama, she remained a core part of the group’s identity and actually sang on the later hits.
- The S.O.U.L. S.Y.S.T.E.M.: This was a spin-off project by Clivillés and Cole that featured Michelle Visage—yes, the Michelle Visage from RuPaul's Drag Race.
- Martha Wash: After the lawsuit was settled, she actually returned to work with the duo, proving that in the music business, money and hits can heal almost any wound.
Why the Music Actually Worked
It’s easy to get bogged down in the drama. But if the music sucked, we wouldn't be talking about them 35 years later. David Cole’s arrangements were sophisticated. If you listen to "Things That Make You Go Hmmm...", the swing in the percussion is incredibly precise. It’s not just a loop; it’s a composition.
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They were pulling from James Brown, from 70s disco, and from the burgeoning New York house scene. They weren't just making pop; they were translating the underground for the masses. They did it better than almost anyone else in that four-year window between 1990 and 1994.
The Tragic End of the Original Duo
The story of the C and C Music Factory members took a tragic turn in 1995. David Cole, the musical heart of the operation, passed away at just 32 years old. Officially, the cause was spinal meningitis, but it was complicated by his battle with AIDS.
His death effectively ended the group's golden era. Robert Clivillés was devastated. He eventually released more music under the C+C name, but without David’s melodic touch, the spark was different. The industry was also moving away from house-pop toward grunge and G-funk. The timing was just off.
The Legacy of the "Factory"
So, how do we view them now?
They aren't just a "one-hit wonder." They had a string of Top 10 hits. They won Billboard awards and AMAs. But their real legacy is technical and legal. The Martha Wash situation forced the industry to be honest. It gave power back to session singers.
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Moreover, the "Factory" model—where producers are the stars and vocalists are "featured"—is now the standard. From DJ Khaled to Disclosure, the blueprint Robert and David created is the dominant form of modern dance and pop music. They were just 20 years ahead of their time.
Where Are They Now?
Robert Clivillés is still active in the industry, occasionally remixing or producing, though he keeps a lower profile than in the 90s. He fiercely guards the C+C legacy.
Freedom Williams continues to tour, performing the hits for nostalgic crowds at 90s festivals. He even trademarked the name "C and C Music Factory" for live performances at one point, which led to a fair amount of friction with Clivillés. It's the classic "who owns the name" battle that plagues almost every successful group from that era.
Zelma Davis is still out there too, occasionally releasing independent music and reminding the world that she actually can sing, despite what the "Gonna Make You Sweat" video suggested back in the day.
Understanding the C+C Impact
If you’re looking to truly appreciate what this group did, stop listening to the radio edits. Dig into the 12-inch remixes. That’s where you see the real work of the C and C Music Factory members.
- Listen to the "A Capella" tracks: You’ll hear the raw power of Martha Wash’s voice and realize why she fought so hard for her credit.
- Check out the "Dub" versions: This is where David Cole’s genius as a keyboardist shines. The layering of the house beats is a masterclass in production.
- Research the Lawsuits: If you’re a creator, look up Wash v. Columbia Records. It is a foundational case for artist rights and "truth in advertising" for music.
The "Factory" was a messy, brilliant, controversial, and high-energy experiment that defined the sound of a decade. It wasn't just about one song; it was about a shift in how music was made and sold.