CD1
01 Marvin Gaye: What’s Going On (detroit mix)
02 The Undisputed Truth: Ball Of Confusion
(That’s What The World Is Today)
03 David Ruffin: Flower Child
04 Bobby Taylor & The Vancouvers:
Does Your Mama Know About Me
05 Martha Reeves & The Vandellas: I Should Be Proud
06 Diana Ross & The Supremes: I’m Livin’ In Shame
07 Edwin Starr: Cloud Nine
08 The Temptations: Plastic Man
09 Reuben Howell: Help The People
10 Eddie Kendricks: My People... Hold On
11 Diana Ross & The Supremes: The Young Folks
12 Syreeta: Black Maybe
13 Marvin Gaye: What’s Happening Brother
(Detroit MIx)
14 The Temptations: Message From A Black Man
15 The Undisputed Truth:
Ungena Za Ulimwengu (Unite The World)

 

CD2
01 Stevie Wonder: Do Yourself A Favor
02 Smokey Robinson: Just My Soul Responding
03 Marvin Gaye: Inner City Blues
(Make Me Wanna Holler)
04 Willie Hutch: Brother’s Gonna Work It Out
05 Gladys Knight & The Pips with Jerry Long: Friendship Train
06 The Undisputed Truth: Smiling Faces Sometimes
07 The Temptations: Slave
08 Junior Walker & The All Stars:
Right On Brothers And Sisters
09 Marvin Gaye: You’re The Man (Pts. I& II)
10 Willie Hutch: Life’s No Fun Living In The Ghetto
11 The Temptations: War
12 Edwin Starr: Stop The War Now
13 The Miracles: Ain’t Nobody Straight In L.A.
14 Diana Ross & The Supremes:
Shadows Of Society
15 The Temptations: Masterpiece

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Two conflicts racked America during the 1960s and early 1970s. The war in Vietnam consumed thousands of US lives and billions of dollars. It also provoked a protest movement that nearly split the country in two, and forced a President out of office. More importantly, perhaps, it cast America as a global villain in the eyes of students and radicals around the world, turning the war into an international cause celebre.

America’s other heartbreak during that tumultuous era was conÄned to its own borders, although it had echoes around the world. Ever since the abolition of slavery after the American Civil War in the 19th century, the issue of race relations, and in particular discrimination against the African-American population, have been an open sore in US society. Gradually, inch by painful inch, black citizens had managed to win a limited amount of freedom. But racism was still an everyday part of American life, and as the 1960s dawned the push towards liberation and equality had gathered unstoppable speed.

During the following decade, politicians attempted to solve the problem with legislation, but they always reacted too slowly. America’s black community was aflame with righteous indignation: sometimes it reacted with impatience, other times with rage. The result was a remarkable period of history in which the entire country was sucked into the drama of civil rights and black power. It was the time of Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, Muhammad Ali and James Brown, the Freedom Riders and the Black Panthers. And it was also the golden era of a record company that became one of the largest black-owned businesses in America: Berry Gordy’s Motown Records Corporation.

Motown never set out to be a political force; it was simply a stable of incredible musical talent, which earned its reputation as Hitsville USA, the Sound of Young America. But during that time of civil rights marches and ghetto riots, liberation armies and black martyrs, all African-Americans were inevitably sucked into the conflict. Motown Records was no exception. Berry Gordy himself was a strong supporter of the prince of the non-violent civil rights movement, Martin Luther King; Motown even issued several albums of his speeches. As the racial heat increased, and Motown’s home city of Detroit erupted into blazing riots in the summer of 1967, it became impossible for Gordy and his artists to avoid the call of the times. Over the next six years, Motown not only founded a subsidiary label entirely devoted to the struggle for black power (Black Forum Records); it also allowed its artists to comment directly on the situation of black people in contemporary America. For the first time, you could hear the nation changing shape in the sounds that came out of Hitsville USA.

One of the ironies of Motown’s involvement with politics and civil rights is that a record the company had issued years earlier as a classic summertime anthem – Martha & The Vandellas’ ‘Dancing In The Street’ – took on a darker meaning as each summer brought the anguish of rioting to America’s biggest and most prosperous cities. So it was probably Ätting that Martha Reeves and her group should also have recorded Motown’s first overt criticism of the Vietnam War. ‘I Should Be Proud’ was not exactly a militant call to arms, but its mixture of bereavement and bewilderment summed up the reaction of so many black families who had lost a loved one on the senseless battlefields of South-East Asia.

Motown’s first tentative steps towards commenting on the changing world outside the recording studio inspired a flurry of late 60s tracks that weren’t political, as such, but were inspired directly by current events. David Ruffin’s ‘Flower Child’, for example, came from the same counter-culture that was leading the protests against Vietnam. When Diana Ross And The Supremes complained ‘I’m Living In Shame’, they were reÅecting the deprivation of modern ghetto life. The Supremes also recorded two slightly uncomprehending accounts of the generation and race gaps that were opening up in American life, ‘Shadows Of Society’ and ‘The Young Folks’. The fact that Berry Gordy was allowing his flagship act to make even the most tentative comments on politics proves how unstoppable the thrust towards change had become.

Another taboo was broken by Bobby Taylor And The Vancouvers with their 1968 hit, ‘Does Your Mother Know About Me’. Like the Hollywood smash ‘Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner’, the song revolved around the scenario of an inter-racial romance. (Songwriter Tommy Chong, a member of The Vancouvers, later found fame as half of the Cheech & Chong comedy duo.)

Two seismic events shook Motown during the summer of 1967 – one from outside, one within. The Detroit riots caused devastation across the city, as young black men who were impatient with the racism of the local police department, their appalling living conditions, and the snail-like speed of change, clashed with police for days on end. Along the way, hundreds of buildings were destroyed by fire, scores of shops were looted, and many people were killed. The unrest undoubtedly encouraged Berry Gordy to think about moving the Motown headquarters to a safer location in Hollywood.

Meanwhile, Motown’s internal organization was thrown into chaos when the label’s leading production and writing team, Holland/Dozier/Holland, announced that they were leaving, and sued Gordy for alleged underpayment of royalties. Into their place stepped writer/producers Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong (the man who wrote and recorded the R&B standard ‘Money (That’s What I Want)’ at the start of the decade). Whitfield masterminded a new Motown sound, tougher and more rock-influenced than the classic Holland/Dozier/Holland style. His trademarks included the heavy use of fuzz and wah-wah guitar effects, James Brown-inspired funk rhythms, and songs that reflected the reality of American city life at the end of the 1960s.

Another Whitfield innovation was more controversial. Having penned some of the hardest-hitting R&B songs of all time with Barrett Strong, he recycled them amongst many of the Motown acts he was producing, subtly varying the arrangements every time. As a result, artists such as The Temptations, The Undisputed Truth and Edwin Starr often recorded the same songs. Although contemporary reviewers complained that record buyers were being shortchanged, in retrospect Whitfield’s methods offered a fascinating array of different interpretations of classic material.
Many of Whitfield and Strong’s most famous and politically potent songs are gathered on this album, but not always in their most familiar versions. It was Edwin Starr who scored a worldwide hit with the unforgettable ‘War’, for instance, but the song was actually first recorded by The Temptations. Both acts also recorded the equally powerful sequel, ‘Stop The War Now’, which was a smaller hit for Starr. He also recorded a version of ‘Cloud Nine’, a controversial portrait of psychedelic drug use which was a smash for The Temptations. As narcotics flooded America’s ghettos at the height of the late 60s black power movement, many activists blamed the government for trying to subdue militancy by getting a generation hooked on heroin, giving ‘Cloud Nine’ its political edge.

Riots, war, drugs – they were just part of the landscape of ‘Ball Of Confusion’, a Temptations hit that was revamped by Whitfield for another of his acts, The Undisputed Truth. Their shining moment was ‘Smiling Faces Sometimes’, a study in paranoia that struck a chord with anyone involved in black politics, as FBI informers did their best to provoke discord and violence between rival groups of activists. The Undisputed Truth also recorded a medley of The Temptations’ ‘Ungena Za Ulimwengu (Unite The World)’ and Gladys Knight & The Pips’ equally idealistic ‘Friendship Train’ – the original version of which is included here as well, to demonstrate how widely Whitfield’s productions could differ from one act to the next.

The Temptations were Whitfield’s most successful act, and they recorded two of the most uncompromising statements of black power issued by Motown in the late 60s, the Sly Stone-influenced ‘Slave’ and the self-explanatory ‘Message From A Black Man’. In the 70s, the group went through several personnel changes but retained their musical identity. ‘Masterpiece’ reworked the style of their smash hit ‘Papa Was A Rolling Stone’ to create a stunning panorama of ghetto life, while the more concise ‘Plastic Man’ also demonstrated Whitfield and Strong’s vein of social commentary.

Their musical and lyrical innovations encouraged other Motown artists to take similar risks. Nobody made better use of the new climate at Gordy’s label than Marvin Gaye, whose ‘What’s Going On’ album remains soul’s classic statement about the turmoil in American society at the start of the 70s. Three tracks from those sessions are included on this set, two of them presented in their original form before Gaye remixed and overdubbed the tracks one last time. As the 1972 presidential election neared with little sign of positive change, Marvin recorded the non-album single ‘You’re The Man’, a sardonic look at the emptiness of the candidates’ political promises.

His torch was carried on by Willie Hutch, who followed Marvin into the territory of blaxploitation soundtracks for films such as ‘The Mack’ and ‘Foxy Brown’. Sadly under-rated as an artist and songwriter, Hutch captured the black street experience of the early 70s on tracks such as ‘Life’s No Fun Living In The Ghetto’ and ‘Brother’s Gonna Work It Out’. By now the new mood of social questioning had touched the entire Motown roster of artists. R&B saxman Junior Walker recorded his own black power anthem, ‘Right On Brothers And Sisters’, while former Temptations frontman Eddie Kendricks cut the more desperate ‘My People... Hold On’. Reuben Howell, one of the lost voices of Motown during the early 70s, tapped into a similar vein with ‘Help The People’. Stevie Wonder collaborated with his wife, Syreeta Wright, on two magnificent albums during this period – and a highlight of her debut LP was ‘Black Maybe’, a questioning look at the long history of African-Americans’ struggle to survive.

That struggle continues to this day, but by the mid-70s it was possible at last to recognise the advances that had been made on civil rights issues over the previous decade. Poverty remained a fact of life for many African-Americans, of course, and it was the unlikely figure of Smokey Robinson – usually a chronicler of romance, not social issues – who recorded Motown’s most affecting study of ghetto deprivation. ‘Just My Soul Responding’ cleverly linked the African-American experience to the treatment of American Indians a century earlier. Times were changing, however, and no track on this album illustrates that fact better – in musical and political terms – than The Miracles’ playful ‘Ain’t Nobody Straight In LA’. Taken from their ‘City Of Angels’ concept album, it’s an exercise in dance music rather than funk, and it wouldn’t necessarily pass all the political correctness tests today. But it marks the end of a radical decade in which America’s most important black-owned label slowly came to terms with the growing militancy of the African-American community, and helped to shape its attitudes with soul music that remains as powerful today as it was more than thirty years ago.
Peter Doggett