Carolyn Crawford – “My Smile is Just a Frown (Turned Upside Down)”

Carolyn Crawford – “My Smile is Just a Frown (Turned Upside Down),” R&B #39

Smokey Robinson didn’t miss very often in the early ‘60s, but for some reason this number just didn’t hit like “Two Lovers,” “The One Who Really Loves You.” Why Robinson was able to jumpstart Mary Wells’ career with the aforementioned numbers while Crawford’s stalled is a mystery. All the right elements were in place – Crawford’s voice is delightful and inviting (perhaps the wrong mood given the lyrics) and the impeccable Motown sound hits in all the right places.

“My Smile” was the second and most successful of Crawford’s three Motown singles. After her departure from the label in 1965 she went back to being a backing vocalist, popping up in 1978 on Hamilton Bohannon’s disco single “Let’s Start the Dance.” That song reached No. 56. — by Joel Francis

Shorty Long – “Devil with the Blue Dress”

Shorty Long – “Devil with the Blue Dress,” did not chart

Mitch Ryder and Bruce Springsteen fans will be taken aback by Shorty Long’s half-speed tempo on his original recording of “Devil with the Blue Dress.” Long’s bluesy shuffle is closer to Chicago blues than Detroit soul. It’s a far cry from the frenetic, late-set showstopper “Devil” has become.

Long’s co-writer Mickey Stevenson’s crisp production serves the song well – check the smacking echo in the handclaps and the dry wash Long’s guitar is given. All the elements are in place for a hit – why this didn’t stick is a mystery. Perhaps Long’s early demise in a boating accident just five years later, in 1969, and the success of Ryder’s 1966 cover, erased him from public consciousness.

When Ryder took transplanted the number from the roadhouse to the garage, he doubled the speed and paired it with Little Richards’s “Good Golly Miss Molly” and got a No. 4 hit. That’s the arrangement Springsteen is prone to trot out, but Long’s original vision is a Motown treasure waiting to be unearthed. — by Joel Francis

Mary Wells – “My Guy”

Mary Wells – “My Guy,” Pop #1

Before Gladys Knight, Martha Reeves and certainly Diana Ross, Mary Wells was Motown’s first female (super)star. Landing a No. 1 single in the heart of Beatlemania was no small feat. Arguably none of the Motown’s female stars have had bigger or more recognizable hits than “My Guy.” The Beatles themselves were so enraptured with Wells that they called her their favorite American singer.

Unfortunately, the Smokey Robinson-penned “My Guy,” was also Well’s swan song. Just a few months after “My Guy” was released, and while it was still very much ruling the charts, Wells exercised the termination clause in her Motown contract. Only 21 years old, she signed with 20th Century Fox with dreams of higher royalty rates and movie stardom. Leaving Motown also meant leaving Robinson, who penned and produced many of her greatest songs. Wells landed only one hit on the Top 40 pop charts after leaving Motown. She spent the rest of the decade bouncing to Atco, then Jubilee Records and finally Reprise Records.

Motown founder Berry Gordy was quick to groom a replacement for Wells – Diana Ross.

While the back story is interesting, none of it matters when listening to the actual song. The giddy, lightness in Wells’ delivery and the Funk Brothers bouncy accompaniment make “My Guy” stand up to the most narrow oldies playlists and misguided covers. Check the breathy semi-stutter Wells uses to sing “there’s not a man today who can take me away from my guy” in the outro. Pure delight. — by Joel Francis

Stax vs. Motown (part three)

The final installment of my conversation with soul music fan Brad S. includes how to build a solid, affordable soul music libarty. Here is part one and part two.

Brad S.: Okay, list time: What are your Top 10 Motown albums? You mentioned “What’s Going On,” “Songs in the Key of Life,” “Talking Book” and “Cloud Nine.” What other albums make the cut? I’m going to ask you to go for diversity here, especially if we’re fighting the perception of that “Motown hit song” stereotype.

Joel Francis: The thing to remember about albums is that prior to 1967 and “Sgt. Pepper’s,” pop albums were basically collections of singles. Going back a bit further, before Frank Sinatra’s concept albums for Capital in the late ’50s, LPs were for classical and jazz (i.e. longer performances) almost exclusively.

Berry Gordy had a hard time when Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder presented him with album-length concepts in the early ’70s. One could argue that “What’s Going On” and “Talking Book” were the first Motown albums that weren’t just glorified singles collections.

I know this contradicts what I said earlier, but I don’t think I can defy your stereotypes of mid-’60s Motown with any albums. That said, there are some great collections that show the depth and richness of the Motown performers of that era.

Universal, who now owns the Motown catalog, did a great job of anthologizing the great Motown groups on the “Ultimate Collection” CDs in the ’90s. These discs get the nod because they’re cheap (about $5 used on Amazon) and comprehensive. They all run in excess of two dozen tracks, which is more than enough to hit all the often-heard must-haves, but provide a deeper examination and context as well.

It’s hard to go wrong with a solid collection of Smokey Robinsons, The Temptations, early Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder, and the Supremes. These might not be as diverse as you were expecting, but songs like “Going to a Go-Go,” “Baby Don’t You Do It” and “Ball of Confusion” have fallen through the cracks and are worth revisiting. Divorcing oldies staples like “Uptight” and “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” from a Top 40 context and placing them back in the artist’s cannon shines new light and perspective on the warhorses.

Because of its distribution deal with Warner Bros. the Stax side is a bit more complicated. Collections tended to fall on the pre- or post-Warner Bros. side and paint an incomplete picture. Fortunately, the consolidation of the major record labels has put all of Stax output in the hands of Concord Records. Concord has revived the Stax brand and started issuing comprehensive collections for the first time.

While there is no definitive Stax anthology series like Motown’s “Ultimate Collection,” quality single- and double-disc collections and box sets are available for nearly every Stax artist. I’d start with Otis Redding, Sam and Dave, the Staple Singers, Booker T and the MGs and Isaac Hayes and play around from there.

Two four-disc box sets provide a comprehensive overview of each label’s glory years. The Daily Record has been discussing each track on “Hitsville U.S.A.” A good follow-up project may be a walk through the “Stax Story” collection, though with more than 80 tracks to go with “Hitsville” I wouldn’t get too ancy.

Eddie Holland – “Leaving Here”

Eddie Holland – “Leaving Here,” Pop #76

A lot changed for Eddie Holland in the two years between “Jamie” and “Leaving Here.” Holland went from reluctant (and struggling) Motown vocalist to key member of soul’s hottest songwriting team, Holland-Dozier-Holland.

After “Leaving Here” failed to find major chart success, Holland released just two more singles before permanently retreating behind his notepad. It’s just as well – the songs Holland helped write had far more success and impact than anything he performed.

Surprisingly, “Leaving Here” has had more influence as a garage rock song than a soul number. The Who recorded a smoking cover for the BBC in 1965, Motorhead released a version their debut single and Pearl Jam recorded it in the 1996 as a tribute to The Who. “Leaving Here” is one of the few songs that sounds good in the hands of almost anyone. If you find this title buried in on an obscure album, you’re guaranteed to have at least one good number. — by Joel Francis

The Miracles – “Mickey’s Monkey”

The Miracles – “Mickey’s Monkey,” Pop #8, R&B #3

One of the most infectious and upbeat singles in the Motown catalog is unique in two ways. First, it was not written by main Miracle Smokey Robinson, but by the hot house songwriting team of Holland-Dozier-Holland. Second, it is one of few Motown songs to appropriate the Bo Diddley beat.

As Robinson’s voice joyously soars over the Funk Brothers groove, the Miracles, Martha and the Vandellas and members of the Supremes, Temptations and Marvellettes chip in on backing vocals.

The HDH production team did a great job of capturing a live sound that, like “Do You Love Me,” sounds like it was beamed directly from the greatest party in the world. Robinson’s multi-octave range is a marvel, but honestly anything over that groove would have been a hit.

“Mickey’s Monkey” was one of the Miracles biggest hits. Unsurprisingly, Berry Gordy tried to bottle lightning a second time by having Martha and the Vandellas cut a version, but neither their cover nor subsequent readings by The Rascals, The Hollies or John Cougar Mellencamp made an impact.

The “cat named Mickey from out of town” was based on Motown’s A&R director Mickey Stevenson. Stevenson wrote several Motown hits with Marvin Gaye, including “Beechwood 4-5789,” “Pride and Joy” and “Dancing in the Street.” — by Joel Francis

Springsteen in the waiting room: Drop the needle and pray


“This too shall pass, I’m gonna pray
Right now all I got’s this lonesome day”

By Joel Francis

I didn’t make it to Bruce Springsteen’s concert at the Sprint Center Sunday night. Around the time he was going onstage – about 8:50 – most of my extended family was leaving the hospital. It had been a long day. Grandma started aspirating about noon, and for the third time that week we all descended upon her intensive care room. At 10:30, about the time Bruce was ripping into “Spirit in the Night,” the nurse told us Grandma’s heart was working harder because her oxygen levels were falling. It didn’t look good. The nurse said it was unlikely Grandma would survive the night.

Hard times baby, well they come to tell us all
Sure as the tickin’ of the clock on the wall
Sure as the turnin’ of the night into day
Your smile girl, brings the morni
n’ light to my eyes
Lifts away the blues when I rise
I hope that you’re coming to stay”

Even before he took the stage, Springsteen was my release. My wife and I saw him last March in Omaha, so we didn’t buy tickets when this show was announced. Even so, the possibility of grabbing tickets from a scalper just before showtime was always open. I even bought a pair of earplugs to the hospital with me, just in case. I pulled them out of my pocket every so often and wondered “Where would the band eat dinner?” Knowing this was the final concert of the tour I imagined how long they’d play. “Hey,” I’d say to no one in particular, “what song are they going to open with?” or, later, “What song do you think they are playing right now?”

“A dream of life comes to me
Like a catfish dancin’ on the end of the line”

Helen Kelley was born in Minneapolis in 1920. The sixth of seven children, she met my grandpa at church. After Grandpa returned from World War II they moved to Manhattan, Kan. where he attended Kansas State on the G.I. Bill. After earning his doctor of veterinary medicine the couple and their young daughter, my mother, relocated to Independence, Mo., where he opened a pet hospital on 23rd Street.

My favorite memories of Grandma take place in the children’s clothing store she opened next door to Grandpa’s pet hospital. Ostensibly hired to help with inventory, she grew to appreciate the Beatles, B.B. King and Ray Charles CDs I brought along. We would talk for hours, solving all the world’s problems before taking the obligatory break for “Oprah.”

“I got a picture of you in my locket
I keep it close to my heart
A light shining in my breast
Leading me through the dark
Seven days, seven candles
In my window light your way
Your favorite record’s on the turntable
I drop the needle and pray”

On the trips back and forth from the hospital in the week leading up to Grandma’s death Springsteen was my passenger. The titles alone were testimonies: “Reason to Believe,” “Counting on a Miracle,” “Land of Hope and Dreams,” “Waitin’ on a Sunny Day,” “The Promised Land,” “Lift Me Up,” “Lonesome Day.”

We finally left the hospital Sunday night after Grandma’s condition had plateaued and we had collected promises of a phone call if anything changed. As we sailed up U.S. 71 I rolled down the windows and gave the speakers a workout. “Rosalita,” “Backstreets” and “Thunder Road” from the 1975 Hammersmith Odeon concert. When we arrived at the house around midnight, the E Street Band was finally leaving the Sprint Center stage after a three-hour marathon set.

“May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love”

Grandma died shortly after 8 p.m. Monday. Her family huddled around the hospital bed and sang the old hymns she loved so much. I doubt she heard them, but if she did, one of the last sounds Grandma would have heard was “Jacob’s Ladder.” This 19th century hymn has its origins in the slave churches, but was popularized by Paul Robeson in the 1920s and Pete Seeger in the 1950s. Springsteen recorded it on his “Seeger Sessions” album. Another of Grandma’s favorite hymns came from those same sessions.

I got into Springsteen too late to share him with Grandma, but I think she would have enjoyed him. If not, she would see how happy his songs made me and gamely smile along. As I made my final trip home from the hospital, I knew Grandma was enjoying the Boss’ performance of “How Can I Keep From Singing.”

“My life flows on in endless song
Above earth’s lamentation…
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I’m clinging.
Since love is lord of Heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?”

Stax vs. Motown (part two)

The second of three installments in my conversation about the golden era of Stax and Motown with soul music fan and Stax afficiando Brad. Don’t forget to check out part one.

Brad S.: I have to admit, when I think of Motown, I almost only associate it with the ‘64-‘65 period. Although I know, to cite one example, one of my old favorites, “Reflections” incorporates just enough psychedelica to distinguish it from what I consider Motown to sound like.

So what are some of those Motown songs that brought you back in?

Joel Francis: For a label so reliant upon singles, it was the albums that drew me back into Motown. “What’s Going On” made me realize there was more to Marvin Gaye than “It Takes Two.” Stevie Wonder’s “Talking Book” and “Songs in the Key of Life” and The Temptation’s “Cloud Nine.”
These albums showed more depth, emotion and creativity than the monotonous parade of mid-60s oldies radio staples would have you believe. Motown may have made its name with its assembly line parade of hits in the first half of the ’60s when it set the agenda, but its output gets more interesting to me in the second half of the decade as it responds to the Beatles, psychedelica, the civil rights movement, etc. That’s when the artists and songwriters really started to grow.

Getting back to Stax I don’t think it ever really recovered from the death of Otis Redding. The near-simultaneous loss of its biggest star in a plane crash and back catalog to Atlantic records was the beginning of the end. I know they regrouped and had massive success with Isaac Hayes, the Staple Singers and Wattstax, but the Stax I enjoy most – Otis, Sam and Dave, Rufus Thomas, Booker T and the MGs, sessions with Wilson Pickett, Solomon Burke, Aretha – was never entirely recaptured.

BS: I hear you with the post-Otis era of Stax, but that also begs this question: What were the true prime lifespans of these labels? I’m not talking about the point at which they continued only in name. The other question that comes to mind is how much of the label’s success is because of a fortunate luck of the draw with artists or is it because of the efforts of record owner or signature producer? Or to put it another way, is there an equivalent to (Motown founder and visionary) Berry Gordy on the Stax side?

JF: For me, Motown loses its luster when it relocated to Los Angeles. There are two reasons for this decline. The first factor is the rise of disco, which practically killed soul music until the neo-soul rebirth of the late-’80s. Second, Berry Gordy’s ambition to branch out into movies and television scattered the label’s focus and brought “mission creep” into his boardroom.

Stax golden years for me are its time with Atlantic when the late Jerry Wexler was helping run the studio. With the exception of Isaac Hayes and the Staple Singers (who were signed later), no one performed as well after the split as they did before. That said, it’s important to remember Stax two big ’70s non-soul successes bluesman Albert King and power pop rock combo Big Star. Many of today’s indie rock bands owe a huge debt to Alex Chilton and Chris Bell’s fantastic Big Star.

If there was a Berry Gordy figure at Stax, I would say it was Wexler in the early days and Al Bell in the later period. Not only was Wexler involved with much of Stax material, but he was also the person responsible for bringing other Atlantic artists, like Wilson Pickett, Aretha Franklin and Solomon Burke, to record at Stax.

After Wexler left, Bell assumed more production duties and became Stax co-owner. Bell patterned his business model off of Gordy. Bell was the person responsible for getting Stax into the soundtrack business (think “Shaft”) and movie business (think “Wattstax”). Ironically, after Stax bankruptcy and demise, Bell worked with Gordy at Motown in the ’80s.

To answer your question, though, I’d say both Motown and Stax’ success came because they were great at identifying talent – be it the songwriting teams of Holland-Dozier-Holland or Hayes-Porter or the raw talents of Mary Wells and Carla Thomas – and had a great business plan for delivering that talent out to the masses. Success breeds success and once those initial singles broke the charts, other artists wanted in.

Continue to part three.

Martha and the Vandellas – “(Love is Like A) Heat Wave”

Martha and the Vandellas – “(Love is Like A) Heat Wave,” Pop #4, R&B #1

When the mercury starts pushing past the century mark my first inclinations are to shave my head and hibernate near the air conditioning. If actual heat waves were more like this song, I’d be dancing in the streets.

Holland-Dozier-Holland wrote it and Martha Reeves sang the heck out of it, but the real credit should go to the Funk Brothers, Motown’s stable of uber-talented, under-recognized musicians. The drums open the song with the buoyancy of an oceanic wave, while a swiftly strummed guitar tells your feet when to move. Add a spritely horn section and peppy piano and you’ve got a hit before Reeves nails the first note.
With so many upbeat elements it’s easy to miss the pain in the lyrics. “Whenever he calls my name/Sounds so soft sweet and plain/Right then, right there/I feel this burning pain/This high blood pressure’s got a hold on me/I said this ain’t the way love’s supposed to be/It’s like a heatwave burning in my heart/I can’t keep from crying/Tearing me apart.” Divorced from the melody and arrangement and the words have the same longing and pain as Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m On Fire.” But together bad love and frustration never felt so good.
Berry Gordy tried to replicate his success by lending the number to the Supremes in 1967. A year earlier The Who covered it a for their second album, but neither version measured up. How could it? Stick “Heat Wave” in your summer cookout playlist alongside Sly and the Family Stone’s “Hot Fun in the Summertime” and any number of Beach Boys tunes and you’ve got a recipe for success. — By Joel Francis

KC Rocks Out: Band Profiles

By Joel Francis

Discovering a new local band can be as easy as searching Myspace, checking the weekly entertainment listings or visit­ing a club’s Web site (see below). Here’s the skinny on the six bands interviewed for this story.

The Architects
Label: Anodyne Records
Description of music: “Colossally loud and exciting. We’re not retro, but if you like The Who, Credence Clearwater Revival, Led Zeppelin or The Clash, you’re going to like us.” – Brandon Phillips, vocals/guitar
myspace.com/architectskcmo

In the Pines
Label: Second Nature
Description of music: “I always think of us as pretty but dark folk rock, although that might sound like a cliché.” – Brad Hodgson, guitar/vocals
inthepinesmusic.com

Olympic Size
Label: unsigned
Description of music: “Cinematic love songs. It’s very lush. A lot of people call it ‘chamber pop’ because of the harmonies. I’ve also heard it called ‘urban folk.'” – Kirsten Paludan, vocals/guitar/keys
myspace.com/olympicsize

The Republic Tigers
Label: Chop Shop
Description of music: “Super-sexy, melodic pop, or future folk with an edge.” – Kenn Jankowski, guitar/vocals
myspace.com/therepublictigers

Rex Hobart and the Misery Boys
Label: Bloodshot
Description of music: “Honky tonk. Drinking and cheating. Love songs.” – Rex Hobart, vocals/guitar
rexhobart.com

The Roman Numerals
Label: Anodyne
Description of music: “Dance music the punk fans can dance to and punk music the dance fans can punk to. But we’re all children of the ’80s, so that’s also reflected.” – Billy Smith, guitar, vocals
theromannumerals.com