doo-wop

Smokey Robinson and the Miracles – “Baby, Baby Don’t Cry,” Pop # 8, R&B # 3

By Joel Francis

“Baby, Baby Don’t Cry” ended the Miracles streak of seven consecutive Top 10 R&B hits and was the group’s fourth and final hit of 1968.

At four minutes, the song was one of Motown’s longest singles to date, but Smokey Robinson and Motown staff writers Al Clevelend and Terry Johnson made the most of every second. As a singer and arranger in 1950s doo wop group the Flamingos, Johnson wrote the arrangement for “I Only Have Eyes for You” and other genre classic. Recruited to Motown by Robinson in 1964, the pair turned in some of their finest work on this number.

“Baby, Baby Don’t Cry” starts on the piano, but gives way to Miracle Marv Tarplin’s immortal guitar line. A full orchestra stealthily enters after the third stanza and explodes on the chorus. Again, Robinson and Johnson apply a deft touch to the score as the horns punch lightly and the string soar. For the spoken interlude, the song scales back to guitar, bass and drums, but never loses its warmth and fullness. On the last verse, the song shifts gears again, as the key changes and the bass and organ lean on the throttle.

Rare among Motown hits, the Funk Brothers are completely absent on this recording. Strings and horns aside, the Miracles play all the instruments on this album, with Robinson’s wife Claudette’s distinct voice sitting atop the vocal arrangement.

Robinson’s singing performance on “Baby” is one of the best in his career. His voice aches with pain and sympathy, but is strong and encouraging at the same time. This is a man who clearly knows the sting of lost love and the warmth of new romance. It’s impossible to deny Robinson and the Miracles evocation that “love is here, standing by.”

It’s hard to imagine anyone improving or adding anything new to these four minutes of perfection, and for once the rest of the industry agreed. “Baby, Baby Don’t Cry” is a rare Motown hit that hasn’t been covered.

BoDiddleyGunslinger

Above: Musical pioneer Bo Diddley was cruelly excluded from the “Cadillac Records” story.

By Joel Francis

With Willie Dixon feeding steady hits to Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf and other Chess artists, the label had become a driving force of popular taste less than a decade after it was founded. While blues were the label’s backbone, the Chess brothers had a hand in nearly every facet of African-American music – from doo-wop groups like the Moonglows and Flamingos and jazz pianists Ahmad Jamal and Ramsey Lewis to the comedy styling of Moms Mabley and sermons by Rev. C.L. Franklin, Aretha Franklin’s father. Starting in 1963, Chess even had its own Chicago radio station, WVON, Voice of the Negro, which is still on the air today.

Chess introduced the world to rock and roll in 1951 when it released Ike Turner and Jackie Brenston’s “Rocket 88.” Four years later, two new Chess artists helped rock and roll grow up in a hurry.

Chuck Berry was discovered by Muddy Waters while on vacation to St. Louis. Berry’s upbeat blues were spiked with country and given a teenage twist. Songs about work became songs about school; his love songs were less dark and more playful. Berry was a poet, capable of packing more syllables per stanza than any other singer. Consider the imagery and complexity in the familiar opening lines Berry’s legendary “Johnny B. Goode:” “Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans/Way back up in the woods among the evergreens.” Berry’s guitar was just as active as his mouth. His quick fingers brought the blues at twice the tempo and his athletic solos made him the first guitar hero.

If Chuck Berry’s souped-up songs took the blues to the teen market in the guise of rock and roll, Bo Diddley’s African rhythms gave them a beat everyone could dance to. Diddley was born Ellas Bates in McComb, Miss. but took the last name McDaniel from his mother’s cousin, Gussie McDaniel, with whom he moved to Chicago as a child in 1934. Diddley’s songs were downright primitive compared to Berry’s, but no less powerful or influential. His shave-and-a-haircut beat was the backbone for many of his own hits like “Bo Diddley,” and “Who Do You Love,” and countless imitators like Johnny Otis’ “Willie and the Hand Jive” and Bruce Sprinsteen’s “She’s the One.” Diddley produced strange sounds from homemade guitars, while Jerome Green’s maracas fueled the relentless beat. Diddley and Green’s back-and-forth on “Say Man” is one of the earliest recorded raps.

The 1960s were a boon for Chess. New stars like Etta James kept the label at the top of the charts while Chuck Berry was in jail. Rock and roll may have knocked Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf from their perches at the top of the charts, but their old singles found a huge white audience in England. Teenagers who bought guitars to form skiffle bands were suddenly playing Willie Dixon’s songs and ravenous for Chicago’s blues. Dixon obliged them, organizing several annual American Folk Blues Festival tours of Europe. In return, the British Invasion bands brought Chess music back to America with them, introducing white America to the music its dark-skinned brothers and sisters had been enjoying decades. Waters, Wolf and the rest of the Chess stable were suddenly pulled from the chitlin circuit to colleges, theaters and festivals.

Chess responded to the changing marketplace in several ways. Before then, most Chess releases were 45 rpm singles. Now the brothers started packaging their hits together into LP records. Decade-old Sonny Boy Williamson tracks appeared on a “Real Folk Blues” compilation designed to appeal to the hootenanny crowd. Later, classic Waters and Wolf tunes were given psychedelic updates for the Summer of Love.

Keep reading The True Story of Cadillac Records.
Part One: The Birth of Chess Records and the Chicago Blues
Part Three: The Final Days and Legacy of Chess Records

Tag: doo-wop

Smokey Robinson and the Miracles – “Baby, Baby Don’t Cry”

The True Story of Cadillac Records (Part Two): Chess Records and the Birth of Rock and Roll