American soul pop group the Jackson Five, five brothers from Indiana who are signed to Berry Gordy’s Motown record label. (Photo by Frank Barratt/Getty Images)
Long before the Jackson 5 became household names, the child-group craze was already simmering across the country. Motown might have had the biggest stage, but they weren’t the only ones trying to break young stars. In fact, there was a full-blown youth group arms race happening—and Mason remembers them all.
“You had groups in Chicago, L.A., D.C.—everybody had their version of the Jackson 5 before the Jackson 5 really blew up.”
One of the earliest rivals was The Five Stairsteps, a Chicago-based group discovered and produced by none other than Curtis Mayfield. Dubbed “The First Family of Soul,” the Stairsteps had harmonies, suits, choreography, and an undeniable groove. Their biggest hit, “O-o-h Child,” would become a timeless classic.
“Curtis had those boys ready to go. If he hadn’t shifted into Superfly, who knows how far they could’ve gone.”
In Los Angeles, The Sylvers were quietly building steam. The family group, which included nine siblings, had funk in their DNA and eventually scored hits in the mid-’70s. Their influence would stretch from R&B into the early stages of disco, but they were always slightly behind the Jacksons in terms of mass marketing and national push.
Then came a lesser-known but serious contender: Ponderosa Twins Plus One, a Cleveland group formed by Sylvia Robinson, the same woman who would later pioneer Sugar Hill Records and usher in hip-hop. She flew the boys into D.C. on weekends to train them personally.
“She worked them. Most times they didn’t get to school on Monday. They were too busy learning how to become stars.”
The standout of the group? A boy named Ricky Spicer. His high, smooth vocals were nearly indistinguishable from young Michael Jackson’s, and he even sued Kanye West decades later for sampling his voice without permission.
“People climbed a glass building just to look in and see their concert,” Mason recalls.
But talent wasn’t enough. While all these groups had moments, it was Motown’s machine—TV appearances, cereal box records, toy deals—that turned the Jackson 5 into global icons. The others simply couldn’t keep up.
“It’s not just about singing. It’s about timing, promotion, and who believes in you.”
So while the Jackson 5’s rise seemed like destiny, Mason reminds us that they were just one of many trying to break through—and the only ones to truly cross over from child performers to musical legends.
