A genius moment of b-boy band brilliance: Ralph Tresvant's finest vocal ever (so pleading, so desperate); harmonies as creamy as you've ever heard, let alone from these boys-to-men; new boy Johnny Gill chiming in like a preacher's assistant ("woooo!"); a ridiculously clever lyrical conceit, even if it sounds like a so-bad-it-might-just-work pick-up line ("sorry, you're not my kind of girl/'cause you're the kind of girl that a man's dreams are made of"); and THE. MOST. PERFECT. production, and since this was 1988 top-of-the-line R&B, it's of course done by Jimmy "Jam" & Terry Lewis. Absolute perfection. (I know I'm a bit over the moon in my description, here, but I want to ensure that you get what I'm telling you. This is crucial!)