The Pointer Sisters – Slow Hand

The Song They Never Wanted To Sing

Released in May 1981 as the lead single from their eighth album Black & White, The Pointer Sisters’ “Slow Hand” climbed to number two on the Billboard Hot 100, where it stayed for three frustrating weeks behind Diana Ross and Lionel Richie’s duet. The song also hit number seven on the R&B chart and earned gold certification in September 1981. What most fans don’t know is that the Pointer Sisters were never supposed to record it at all. Songwriter John Bettis admitted the group was the furthest act from his mind when he and Michael Clark wrote the sultry ballad about a lover who takes his time.

In the US, the song peaked at number two in August 1981, blocked from the top spot by one of the decade’s biggest ballads. It spent three weeks at that position, matching their previous high from Bruce Springsteen’s “Fire” in 1978. The single fared better internationally, becoming their first top ten hit in the UK with a number ten peak. It also gave them their first appearance in the UK top thirty, breaking them into European markets where they’d struggled to gain traction. By September, the RIAA certified it gold for sales exceeding one million copies, and The Village Voice ranked it among the top twenty-five singles of the year.

Producer Richard Perry heard the demo and knew immediately he’d found his next hit. He’d been working with the Pointer Sisters since 1978, perfecting their transition from funk and country into polished pop and R&B. Perry recognized that the song’s intimate, seductive quality would capture the same magic that made “Fire” a smash. John Bettis brought a unique sensibility to the lyrics, having spent the seventies writing for The Carpenters and honing his craft in Nashville. His approach was to write spare, understated lyrics that let the vocalist’s phrasing and emotion fill the space. For Karen Carpenter, this meant leaving room for her haunting timbre. For the Pointer Sisters, it meant Anita Pointer could transform innuendo into art.

The trio recorded Black & White at Studio 55 in Los Angeles with additional sessions at Celebration Recording in New York. It was their fourth consecutive album with Perry and their fourth release on his Planet label. The production featured a metronomic drum machine, countrified guitar licks that nodded to Bettis’s Nashville roots, and steel drums that gave the track an unexpected texture. Synthesizers from James Newton Howard and Ed Walsh added a contemporary shimmer without overwhelming the vocal. Anita Pointer handled lead vocals, using her contralto range to convey desire that simmered just below boiling. The song blended countrypolitan flair with champagne soul, creating a sound that helped rebuild pop radio in the aftermath of disco’s collapse.

Black & White became their fourth consecutive top ten album, peaking at number twelve on the Billboard 200 and earning gold certification. The album marked a definitive shift away from the harder funk and rock of their earlier work toward a smoother, more sensual pop aesthetic aimed at mainstream radio. The follow-up single “Should I Do It” reached number thirteen in spring 1982, making Black & White their first album to yield two top twenty hits. The sisters were shedding their earlier experimental edges for something slicker and more commercially viable. Within two years, they’d dominate the charts with Break Out and four simultaneous top ten singles.

Country star Conway Twitty recognized something authentic in the song’s DNA. He recorded his own version in 1982, flipping the gender perspective and reaching number one on the country chart for two weeks in June. His cover demonstrated the song’s versatility, fitting as naturally on country radio as it had on pop and R&B stations a year earlier. The song’s countrypolitan bones showed through regardless of who sang it. Both versions remain classics in their respective genres, proof that great songwriting transcends category. Twitty’s version introduced the song to audiences who’d never heard the Pointer Sisters, while the Sisters’ version helped establish them as crossover stars.

Nearly forty-five years later, “Slow Hand” remains a masterclass in restraint and seduction. It proved that the Pointer Sisters could transform a song written for someone else into something that sounded like it was written specifically for them. The track bridged the gap between disco’s demise and the synthesized pop explosion of the mid-eighties, offering sophistication when radio desperately needed it. What Bettis and Clark wrote as a sultry ballad became the blueprint for how R&B acts could dominate pop radio in the Reagan era.

The Pointer Sisters