ARE YOU READY FOR A BRAND NEW BEAT? MOTOWN APPEARANCES ON SHINDIG! (1964-65)

If you have time to spare – and it you don’t, make some – here are some fantastic performances by Motown artists on the US music variety show Shindig! Jr. Walker & the All-Stars, the Temptations, Martha & the Vandellas, Smokey Robinson & the Miracles, Marvin Gaye, Mary Wells, the Blossoms (okay, not Motown but what the hell), Four Tops and the Supremes all singing live during 1964/65. Enjoy.

TEEN TOWN - THE MOTOWN STORY (1965)

1965 was the year Motown exploded into the consciousness of the American people. The label had seen hits but now they could be viewed – as Berry Gordy intended – as a succession of hits leaving one central assembly line.

Such was interest in the label that an edition of Detroit-based CKLW Channel 9's show Teen Town devoted a whole hour’s edition to what presenter Robin Seymour refers to as the Motown Records Corporation.

Some of the studio performances by the Marvelettes, the Miracles, the Supremes with a gurning Ms Ross, the Temptations and Little Stevie Wonder are familiar but what makes this all the more fascinating is Berry Gordy and Barney Ales talking the host through behind the scenes footage recorded at Hitsville of the artists, writers and producers rehearsing material. Listen out for Seymour's fully justified gasp of "Oh my!" when the Marvelettes' Wanda Young comes into view.

SEPTEMBER PLAYLIST

Paul Court & Tracy Tracy of The Primitives, 100 Club, 28 September 2013

More than a few of my favourite artists crop up in this month's playlist. Here goes...

1.  Chubby Parker and His Old Time Banjo – “King Kong Kitchie Kitchie Ki-Me-O” (1928)

There aren’t enough songs about frogs marrying mice performed by fat men playing a 5-string banjo and whistling.

2.  Dick Justice – “Henry Lee” (1932)

A boarding house lady tries to tempt Henry Lee with her cheap lodgings but he’s not having any of it, remaining loyal to his true love. His reward is a pen knife plunged into his chest before being chucked down a deep, deep well, where he lies until the flesh drops off his bones.

3.  Eddie Kirk – “Hog Killin’ Time” (1964)

This was the way to record a blues harp – down, dirty and distorted.

4.  Arthur Alexander – “Where Have You Been All My Life?”  (1962)

Love everything about this record (tucked away as the flip of “Soldier of Love”) - the production, the arrangement and Arthur’s beautifully passionate vocal.

5.  Smokey Robinson & The Miracles – “Ooh Baby Baby” (1965)

Stripped of the Funk Brothers, this accapella version from Studio A of Hitsville is truly hairs-on-the-back-of-the-neck stuff. Listen here.

6.  Curtis Mayfield – “Back To The World” (1973)

Governer Pat Quinn has declared today (29^th September) as Curtis Mayfield Day in Illinois. Every day is Curtis Mayfield Day in Monkey Mansions.

7.  The Primitives – “Dreamwalk Baby” (1987)

It was great to hear the Primitives perform the whole of Lovely last night at the 100 Club. It’s an album so packed with goodies it’s difficult to single out one track but this got the head bobbing somewhat frantically. If that wasn't enough for a memorable Saturday night out, dancing with Mike Joyce to "This Charming Man" made it slightly surreal one too.   

8.  Baby Strange – “Friend” (2013)

Fiery Glaswegian young uns follow debut single (“Pure Evil”) with another raucous blast on white vinyl as thick a dinner plate. 

9.  Manic Street Preachers – “This Sullen Welsh Heart (featuring Lucy Rose)” (2013)

Their 100 Club gig this month was good this but the Shepherd’s Bush Empire one two weeks later was even better with nearly two thirds of rustic folk/Welsh soul Rewind The Film getting an airing; a fair greater amount than they usually afford new albums which says much about how pleased they are with it. “This Sullen Welsh Heart” sets the mood in breath-taking fashion.    

10.  Mary Epworth – “September” (2013)

This is more than a bit bonkers. A short stomping glittery glam rocker about hiding under a leaf instead of going back to school. I think.

JANUARY PLAYLIST

Ten tunes currently creating merriment at Monkey Mansions.

1. The Louvin Brothers – “The Great Atomic Power” (1952)

Considering Ira and Charlie Louvin feared mushroom clouds of destruction would rain down from on high blotting out the works of man they sounded remarkably upbeat about it. The reason?  God will surely save His children. Phew, that’s a weight off my mind.

2. Mel Williams – “Send Me A Picture, Baby” (1955)

When waiting to cut his new 45 for Federal Records I wonder if Mel asked for something people can whistle along to. If he did, they took him literally. What otherwise would be a standard big voiced R&B stroller is made more interesting (or perhaps annoying) by employing a whistling passer-by.

3. Faye Richmonde – “Sadie’s Still Got The Rag On” (1957)

Boys, if you’re thinking of knocking on Sadie’s door and asking her out to play, her mum reckons you’ll be wasting your time because she’s still got the rag on. Mumps, she says, but I’m not convinced. From the album My Pussy Belongs To Daddy released, presumably under the counter, in 1957.

4. Smokey Robinson & The Miracles – “When The Words From Your Heart Get Caught Up In Your Throat” (1968)

That’s such a typical Smokey phrase. You can just imagine him coming up with the title and knocking the rest of the song together over lunch. The competition would’ve killed for songs like this yet Smokey could afford to chuck it away on the flip of “You Can Want”.

5. Os Mutantes – “Bat Macumba” (1968)

Mixing their Brazilian rhythms with imported US and UK psychedelic rock Os Mutantes eponymous debut album is wonderfully wigged-out from start to finish.

6. Darrow Fletcher – “(Love Is My) Secret Weapon” (1975)

I have to be careful to play this sort of stuff out of the earshot of Mrs Monkey as a pound to penny she’ll go “Turn this disco shit off” or “What’s this Luther Vandross bollocks?” If that’s also your natural reaction to a silky mid-70s soul dancer then you’d best steer clear too.

7. Siouxsie & The Banshees – “Supernatural Thing” (1981)

The Banshees wouldn’t be top of the pile of expected coverers of Ben E. King’s funk classic but they did it. The studio take appeared as the B-side to “Arabian Knights” but I’ve been playing the live version recorded for a Richard Skinner BBC session; all quirky rhythms and jagged shards of metallic noise. I'm still hoping they'll return one of these days. 

8. Slim Moore and the Mar-Kays – “How Long” (2011)

Introducing Slim Moore and the Mar-Kays is the best new soul album I’ve heard in years, not that it sounds very new, more an amalgamation of every cool Blaxploitation soundtrack. “How Long” contains just enough of a hint of hip-hop to pull it away from mere pastiche.       

9. Band A Part – “Blankets” (2011)

Despite the title this is sung in their native Spanish tongue. My grasp of the lingo is too shoddy to grasp what they’re on about but they sound enough of a sweet blend of St Etienne and Camera Obscura to get un abrazo from me.

10. Ballard – “Pretty Colours” (2013)

A rough and ready pill-eyed adrenaline rush written, recorded and released by Darren Riley quicker than it takes the Rolling Stones to assemble their stage set. 

MONKEY USA PART 3: MOTOWN RECORDS, DETROIT, MICHIGAN

Of all the places in the world I wanted to go, one stood out head and shoulders above the rest. Detroit. If you believe what some people say, Detroit is best avoided. It certainly has earned a reputation and it’s not now for its motor industry or Berry Gordy’s assembly line of hit records. But a pilgrimage to one clapperboard house that stands at 2468 Grand West Boulevard has been top of my wants list for as long as I can remember.

The train journey from Chicago to Detroit took longer than the scheduled five and a half hours as it crawled through the likes of New Buffalo and the wonderfully named Kalamazoo, which sits bang in the middle of the two cities. Most places looked small, suburban, with lots of little detached houses proudly waving Old Glory from a flag pole on the front lawn. That’s until you reach the outskirts of Detroit. The difference is as immediate as it is shocking. Fortunately I’ve never been in the remains of a war zone but that’s how these deserted streets with empty, vandalised, burnt out buildings appeared.

People are leaving the city in their droves. Twenty-five percent of the population have left over the last decade and almost a million since Gordy began his Motown Empire in 1959. According to The Economist, “Those who are left are likely to be the poorest, least-skilled and so least mobile. Only 11% of Detroiters aged between 25 and 34 has a college degree; in Seattle, the equivalent figure is 63%. Around 50% of the city’s adult black males are unemployed, and 38% of all Detroiters live below the poverty line.” The problems that create are obvious. Our waitress later in the day would, with a detectable hint of pride, claim Detroit was the second most dangerous city in America and not to go anywhere on foot.

If I was prepared for that bleak scenario I wasn’t prepared for Detroit train station. I was thinking it’d be a busy station yet it’s a tiny two platform affair. It could’ve been any stop tucked away at either end of the Central Line. I also thought there would be plenty of taxis not only one, hell bent on scooping up as many passengers as he could. Could he take me and Mrs Monkey to Motown? “Moo-tun?” he says. No, Mo-town. “Mar-tan?” No, Motown Records. The Motown Museum. Hitsville USA. Dancing In The Street. “You have address?” Incredibly, a cabby in Detroit had never heard of it. Even when supplied with the address he looked totally bemused but that didn’t stop him scooping up an Austrian couple and squashing them in with us. They wanted a completely different destination and direction and despite Mr. Cabby’s promise to drive there afterwards they looked terrified by the prospect. It wasn’t like they had much choice.

A few minutes later – out of the blue - we were there. Motown’s headquarters and home to Studio A, the building Gordy named Hitsville USA. It looked wonderfully familiar, the same as in every picture, frozen in time: white structure, blue signage, and small strips of green lawn out front where the Miracles, the Temptations, the Supremes, Marvin Gaye, the Vandellas, the Marvelettes and all the other magnificent lesser known artists would take a breather from recording the Sound of Young America and hang out amongst friends. The building is pretty and picturesque but because of how it looks in photographs I’ve always imagined it on a quiet residential street, maybe it once was, but it’s in fact on a busy unattractive main road and now untypical of its neighbours.

In through the door marked Studio A, past the small gift shop on the left, and down a short narrow corridor leading to the tour kiosk. We missed the start and after getting the lift up one floor the door opened into the main museum area where a dozen people were listening to an excited guide. I’ll call him Eivets Rednow. He explained how Berry Gordy needed a family loan of $800 to start his label and how Marv Johnson’s “Come To Me” was the first release on Tamla, the first of his many labels under the Motown umbrella. We heard how Gordy swiftly worked his way onto his first national hit, courtesy of Barrett Strong. Eivets Rednow breaks into song. “The best things in life are free, you can give them to the birds and bees…” He starts clapping his hands, and saying he can’t hear us. “I want money, that’s, what I want.” This set the tone for the tour: all singing and clapping and audience participation. I could feel myself and Mrs Monkey mentally moonwalking back to the lift.

We worked our way, as a group, around the room filled with records, photographs, tour posters and other promotional material displayed in glass cases whilst Eivets gave a thumbnail account of the Motown Story. With such a wealth of talent, for all the hits and misses, it was interesting to see which artists were afforded more space in the exhibits and the tour narration. The Supremes, for all their stature, scored lower than I predicted; the Four Tops were lucky to have their photo in a shared collage; whilst Marvin Gaye would’ve felt vindicated to get top billing with three complete cabinets to himself and Eivets bursting into Pop Idol versions of “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”, “I Heard It Through The Grapevine” and “Sexual Healing”.

When Berry Gordy bought the premises he had a clear idea how he envisaged his operation to work: he would live upstairs, have his offices downstairs, and would convert the garage into a recording studio. All of which we see. His living area was kitted out with a mix of his own items and period pieces but it’s when the tour moves downstairs that we are spookily transported back to the early 60s. The reception area and desk where Martha Reeves worked as a secretary is there; a leather sofa where artists would wait is positioned just inside the front door reserved for the elite few; Gordy’s office has a memo pinned to the noticeboard from 1965 warning employees that card games are forbidden until after 6pm; a room filled with master tapes overlooks a candy machine stocked with Stevie Wonder’s favourite bar - fifth button from the right - so he always knew where it was; and there’s the control room complete with the original three-track mixing desk. Visitors were forbidden from taking photographs so I can't show you the evidence.

Standing in the doorway of Studio A – the Snakepit as the Funk Brothers named it – and walking down the few steps into it was a once in a lifetime hairs-on-the-back-the-neck moment. Even Eivets shut up as we silently sucked in the moment. It felt like entering a church. It smelt old and musty and damp. It felt cramped squeezed in amongst the instruments and equipment but here it was. Here was the Motown Sound. Here was “This Old Heart of Mine”. Here was open for 24 hours a day between 1959-1972, recording the greatest collection of music ever to come from one studio. Earlier we’d seen the echo chamber where handclaps and backing vocals were recorded (echo chamber is a grand description of a hole and microphone in the ceiling to create a reverb effect) and presently we’d see the room where the horns where recorded, but this was it. Soul Mecca. There were no flat concrete walls; it was all warm timber angles, soaked with sweat and soul. Amazing.

Now, what would have taken this to another level would’ve been to have some big Motown hits pumped through the studio PA. To hear the snap of Benny Benjamin's snare, the rumble of James Jamerson's bass, to hear Levi soar, or Smokey sing. But no. Eivets lined up the girls and made them curtsey and throw some Supremes shapes. I couldn’t look at Mrs Monkey as felt her obvious discomfort and waited instead for the tables to turn. Us boys had to sing “My Girl” and do The Temptation Walk. In the privacy of my flat I happily dance around like David Ruffin – I could’ve been Motown’s great white hope - but this was embarrassing as I performed a half arsed left to right to left shuffle and mumbled something about the month of May. A couple of my fellow Tempts didn’t share my English reserve.

We can now claim to have sung and danced in Studio A. Berry Gordy might not have signed us but what he gave was more than enough. A dream come true.

Next stop: Stax.

SMOKEY ROBINSON at the ROUNDHOUSE

Smokey Robinson’s songs have enriched my life and made the world a better place. I absolutely love him but it hasn’t always been that way.

As a twelve year old wannabe punk in the summer of ‘81 I hated him. “Being With You” was number one and the sight of him of Top Of The Tops mincing around that apartment, pretending to sniff flowers, coked off his noggin, and singing like a big girl was too much to take. And a red pool table. Who ever saw such a thing?

By the time of the Christmas school disco I’d switched allegiances to the Mod/2-Tone brigade and had perfected that hopping and kicking from foot to foot dance that all the in-crowd did to Madness records. We’d only dance to them, The Jam, and “Ghost Town”, which wasn’t an easy record to dance to, and sneer at the Adam and the Ants and Duran Duran nonsense.

There was a girl, Janet, that I fancied. We’d had a bit of history in primary school. I’d call for her in the mornings until her Mum started talking to me in Italian. I was so petrified I didn’t dare call again. We’d snog (that’s me and Janet, not me and her Mum) behind the gate in the playground and in the field opposite her house. She wrote me a letter saying how good I was at football and I bought her a necklace from the newsagent for Valentine’s Day. We split up and I tried to woo her back on the last day of school by going through all my copies of Shoot! to tear out all the Arsenal posters for her. It didn’t work. She looked at me like I was some sort of cretin. I can still picture her putting her chair on the table, walking out, and that was that.

We moved to secondary school and were in separate classes but she was at this school disco, stood over the right hand side of stage, and I’d been keeping my beady eye on her. She always looked different to other girls: petite, short boyish hair, red t-shirt with "Paris" on it and wearing a neckerchief – quite a sophisticated continental look for a twelve year old in 1981. The DJ played some smoochy number and I tried rustling up the courage to ask her to dance. I left it too long and thought if he plays another I’ll go for it. Cue that frigging horrible sax solo at the start of “Being With You”. Typical. Still, get in there my son. I asked her. She looked embarrassed and looked at the floor. Then looked at her mate. Then at me. She didn’t say anything. Time slowed right down. By now that cretinous feeling was creeping up on me again. Come on girl. More silence, more sideways glances. Go on. Smokey was hitting his stride, cooing away. Finally, after an eternity, she begrudgingly agreed. We walked to a spot on the dancefloor and the moment I put my arms around her, “Hey you! Don’t watch that, watch this! This is the heavy heavy monster sound, the nuttiest sound around”, comes booming out, “One step beyond!” and I’m swamped in a sea of manic moonstomping and never got my hands on her again.

Twenty eight years later and Smokey is in front of me singing that same bloody song, but I don’t care. He can sing whatever he wants, however he wants. He can even stick a sickly Spanish rap in the middle if he wants, and he does. He is Smokey Robinson. Nuff said.

NEW UNTOUCHABLES 12th ANNIVERSARY

Twelve years since the Untouchables became the New Untouchables and unlike the Avengers the addition of "New" hasn't spoilt a good thing.

I'll be hauling the record box across town straight from the Smokey Robinson gig on Saturday so expect a few Miracles movers in my sets. That sentence sort of looks like I'm DJing for Smokey. I'll leave it like that.

SEPTEMBER PLAYLIST

Some songs for September.

1. Richard Wylie and His Band – “Money (That’s What I Want)” (1960)
Barrelhouse piano, a crazy mixed up melody, and bendy guitar lick so sneaky it’ll reach deep inside the tightest confines of your pocket and pinch your last dime without you even noticing.

2. Tubby Hayes – “The Late One” (1961)
Tenor virtuosity from the Tubster as he leads his quartet with lightning fingers and a lairy shirt.

3. The Miracles – “I’ll Try Something New” (1962)
Call a doctor, there’s been a severe case of Smokey fever sweeping through Monkey Mansions this month.

4. Dave Berry – “Don’t Gimme Me No Lip Child” (1964)
Berry’s meaty, beaty, big and bouncy bombshell must’ve taken a few teenyboppers by surprise when they flipped over his “Crying Game”.

5. The Byrds – “Why” (1966)
The version on the B side of “Eight Miles High” was recorded a year before the Younger Than Yesterday one, and contains a far groovier wigged out raga bit in the middle.

6. Lou Ragland – “Since You Said You’d Be Mine” (1973)
Paying Our Dues is one of my favourite Kent compilations and as Ady Croasdell perceptively notes on the sleeve the lyric “I’m three times happier than the law allows me to be” is pure class. Remixed by John Cale. That John Cale?

7. Pissed Jeans – “Ashamed Of My Cum” (2005)
Yes, there really is a band called Pissed Jeans, and yes, they really do have a song called “Ashamed Of My Cum”. Not quite X-Factor material unless Simon Cowell sees pound signs in the sound of starving apes trapped in a recording studio taunted by the sight of food waved at the window. Is that a recommendation? Only if you’re thirteen and looking to piss off your parents.

8. The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart – The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart LP (2009)
Once upon a time, back in the late 80’s, indie meant indie. The girls had bobs and cute button noses and the more astute boys yearned to look like Sterling Morrison. Distorted guitars would wash over Spectoresque drums, waves of sound and melodies would dreamily float in and out the fuzz, and earnest young fanzine writers would sit in their bedrooms armed with cheap typewriters, scissors and Pritt-Stick as John Peel played another Mongolian import. Ah, sweet memories.

9. The Cribs – Ignore The Ignorant LP (2009)
Oh dear, what’s happened to The Cribs? They’ve now all the bite of a dog with its teeth removed. And it probably seemed such a great idea getting Johnny Marr to join. He sprinkles his nice fancy Marrisms over the new album, but if you sprinkle sugar over a turd it’ll still taste of shit.

10. The Lemonheads – “Layin’ Up With Linda” (Live at the Forum, Saturday 19th September 2009)
Yep, they’re still going and last Saturday, with the grungeometer turned to ten, they beat the buggery out of their fabulous back catalogue and threw in some new ones like this cover of GG Allin’s chucklesome tale of killing his girlfriend.

SMOKEY ROBINSON COMES TO LONDON

The Godlike Genius that is William “Smokey” Robinson is coming to London to play the Roundhouse as part of the BBC Electric Proms on Saturday 24th October. How bloody exciting is that?

Here's part of the official blurb:

"A true soul legend takes to the Roundhouse stage for a celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the birth of Motown records. Smokey Robinson performs his greatest hits plus songs from his new album Time Flies When You're Having Fun.

Smokey Robinson and his band will be joined by the BBC Concert Orchestra. For the first time, BBC Electric Proms has specially commissioned brand new arrangements of these cherished hits for what promises to be a magical performance".

The "new arrangements" part sounds ominous but I'm prepared to swallow that for a paltry £25. If you hear some cockney bellowing on the telly for “If Your Mother Only Knew”, “Whatever Makes You Happy”, "Choosey Beggar" or “A Fork In The Road”, that’ll be me.