Jellybean Johnson, the drummer who helped Prince forge the Minneapolis sound, has passed away at 69.
Before the world knew his name, before the guitars and the production credits, before Purple Rain turned Minneapolis into a global reference point, Jellybean Johnson was first and foremost a drummer in Prince’s orbit. Not the drummer in The Revolution, but the drummer who helped define the attitude and swing of The Time, the sharp funk outfit Prince built as both alter ego and competition. Within that tight circle of musicians who sharpened each other like steel on steel, Jellybean was the rhythmic backbone. You can hear it in the sheen of early eighties Minneapolis funk. The snap of the snare, the pocket that never moved, the discipline of someone who knew that drums were the glue holding the whole thing together.
Jellybean Johnson, born Garry George Johnson on November 19, 1956, passed away on November 21, 2025 at age 69. Multiple outlets including Billboard, the Star Tribune and TMZ report that he collapsed at his home in Brooklyn Park, Minnesota and later died at North Memorial Health Hospital in Robbinsdale. The cause of death has not yet been formally released.
Prince built The Time as a rival band to push his own creative fire. What he found in Jellybean was a drummer who could ground the entire project with feel, restraint and swagger. The Time became one of the anchors of the Minneapolis sound and an essential part of the wider Prince universe. Tracks like Cool and 777 9311 showcase the precise, propulsive rhythm work that set the tone for the band’s identity. Their appearance in Purple Rain cemented them in pop history.
Jellybean was the definition of a musician who played for the song. Prince demanded precision and feel in equal measure and Jellybean delivered it every time. That discipline shaped the band’s rise and helped define an era.
Jellybean’s talent never sat quietly behind the drums. He was a guitarist, producer and arranger who wanted more room to explore. After his early work with The Time he stepped into the production world and quickly proved he was more than a rhythm player. He co produced Janet Jackson’s Black Cat, played on records by Alexander O’Neal, Cherrelle, New Edition and others, and became a reliable creative force for Flyte Tyme Productions, the legendary team led by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis.
The Minneapolis sound spread across the world through records that blended funk, rock, pop, R and B and new wave. Jellybean was one of the architects of that expansion. Even when his name wasn’t printed in the largest font, his fingerprints were everywhere.
Despite his deep list of credits, Johnson never drifted away from the life of a working player. He continued gigging around Minneapolis for decades. The Star Tribune noted that he kept the mentality of someone who simply loved to play. He mentored younger musicians, supported emerging artists and treated the local scene as something worth protecting.
He also co founded the Minneapolis Sound Museum alongside his partner Marty Bragg, an initiative designed to preserve and celebrate the full ecosystem of artists who built the city’s identity. He wanted to make sure the legacy went far beyond the most famous names.
Johnson was born in Chicago and moved to Minneapolis in his early teens. He began drumming at thirteen, picked up guitar at fifteen and became one of those rare multi instrumentalists who could switch roles without ego. He often spoke about the formative power of community. For his most recent birthday he wrote that his life was shaped by the people who believed in him long before the world caught on.
The Minneapolis scene is full of giants, and Jellybean is one of them. He helped define the sound in its earliest form, he carried it forward through decades of work and he poured his energy back into the next generation.
The Minneapolis sound remains one of the most influential movements in modern music and Jellybean Johnson was one of its pillars. This was a musician who shaped global pop culture from a city that punched far above its weight. His drumming helped launch careers. His guitar work added fire to countless records. His production instincts proved he could move comfortably across genres. And his commitment to local music showed a heart that never left the community that raised him.
He is survived by his partner Marty Bragg and several children.
