Diana Ross and The Supremes: "Love Child"

December 2, 1968 (2 weeks)

It's actually a wonder that The Supremes managed to last as long as they did. They took their sweet old time trying to have a hit single only to then start reeling them off one after another, with a success rate second only to The Beatles during the mid-sixties. Yet, by 1968, they appeared to be headed down the dumper. Chart places suffered. Tension within the trio mounted. Amid a dispute over royalties, longtime in-house songwriting team Holland-Dozier-Holland left Motown. Label boss Berry Gordy had been not so subtly grooming Diana Ross for a solo career. The quality of their singles had become inconsistent.

Eventually the decision was made to keep the golden goose going for a while longer. Longtime member Florence Ballard was out, replaced by Cindy Birdsong. A re-brand to 'The Supremes with Diana Ross' was then scrapped in favour of 'Diana Ross and the Supremes'. They had a new group of songwriters/producers working with them known as The Clan. (Seriously, The Clan? Jesus, Motown, read the freaking room!) This would be just what they'd need to carry them forward just as Stevie Wonder had begun maturing as an artist, as Marvin Gaye's work began to get more gritty and as the Four Tops reached their zenith.

While I can certainly understand the appeal, there's something unlikable about "Love Child". It's too busy, too over-stuffed with ambitious ideas that the song and The Supremes themselves seem to get overwhelmed. Tom Breihan perceptively points out in his glowing review that it anticipates disco by a decade but it's a brand of seventies' dance music that hasn't worked itself out yet. "Don't fuck with the formula" is what Beach Boy Mike Love is supposed to have said - and he almost certainly did say so, if not in so many words — and it's a point that is worth considering, especially when there's really no direction to the music that is being made. While The Beach Boys went from strength to strength creatively (even while their commercial prospects dwindled), Motown's stable had more mixed results when it came to moving forward. With the trio of Ross, Mary Wilson and Ballard (and, now, Birdsong) left out of the decision making process for the most part, committees seemed to be calling the shots. Finding a balance between their established perfect soul-pop and some kind of future direction proved to be impossible. While a brave attempt, "Love Child" is at best a semi-failure that did manage to really give Ross an increasing amount of the spotlight.

And yet the score I have given it below is right in the middle of the 'not bad' range even though I have almost nothing good to say about it. I can barely get through its three minutes. What can I say, it gets bonus points for its ambition and for it cleverly predicting the future. Mind you, this isn't even strictly down to the record itself. The real future it foretells is that of a pop scene without The Supremes — or, better yet, one in which The Supremes were able to return to being a fine pop group without the pressures of their mid-sixties' imperial period hanging round their collective necks. It also predicts Diana Ross' solo career, which, much like her old group, was a mixed bag itself. Much as singer and group may have once needed each other, they were probably better off apart from this point forward. Thus concludes The Supremes' relevancy in this space — and I can't say I'll be sorry to see them go.

Score: 5

The Supremes: "Love Is Here and Now You're Gone"

March 11, 1967 (1 week)

"Baby Love". "Stop! In the Name of Love". "I Hear a Symphony". "You Can't Hurry Love". "You Keep Me Hangin' On". Five absolutely marvellous songs by The Supremes, all of which made it to number one on Billboard's Hot 100 in the United States. In Canada, however, they all came up short. (The others at least came fairly close but "Baby Love" and "I Hear a Symphony" both came up well short too) Canadians weren't as crazy about the Motown juggernaut as they were down south and even the label's number one cash cow wasn't completely immune, despite having had a handful of chart toppers north of the border.

And yet, "Love Is Here and Now You're Gone" gave the Michigan trio their fourth Canadian number one smash. (I know, I can't remember how it goes either and I'm in the middle of reviewing the bloody thing!) This is the maddening randomness of chart placings in a nutshell: great songs can miss out while inferior numbers take the title, sometimes even when they're by the same artist.

1972 is a key year in the history of the Motown label. Marvin Gaye had already pulled off a declaration of creative independence with his seminal album What's Going On a year earlier and now Stevie Wonder was about to do likewise with a pair of groundbreaking releases Music of My Mind and Talking Book. The control that boss Berry Gordy had exerted on his signings was beginning to loosen but perhaps he had other matters to attend to, namely the decision to uproot his company from his hometown of Detroit to Los Angeles. Having goals of getting into filmmaking no doubt played a significant role and he had his biggest star to be thinking about. (These two being very much related)

But rewinding back to '67 and it seems like the seeds were already been sown for a move out west — and, indeed, a shift from very high quality work to much more of a mystery box filled with good and bad. Diana Ross was already being groomed for a solo career (their next — and final — RPM number one would be credited to 'Diana Ross and the Supremes', as sure a sign as any that things were changing and not for the better) and so she was given a trio of "dramatic" spoken bits in the middle of "Love Is Here and Now You're Gone". If they weren't necessarily going to do much for her singing career, at least you can practically hear her auditioning for future movie roles as Billie Holiday and Dorothy.

I have nothing against spoken word, toasting or rapping but speaking in the middle of a song is one of my many musical pet peeves. That said, I sort of want to defend its use in this instance because they had to do something to spice up what is truthfully a very ordinary Supremes song. Ross being all full of very unconvincing attitude is the only remotely memorable part. Much of it was recorded in LA as they attempted to utilize lush strings and a baroque pop harpsichord just to give it some life. They failed to do so but good on them for giving it a go, I suppose.

Motown's vocal groups were one of its many strengths but by putting the spotlight on Ross while pushing Florence Ballard and Mary Wilson increasingly to the background, they were slowly losing the plot on what had made The Supremes special in the first place. She may have always been the focal point but that didn't mean they were her backing singers. Yet, a far more grievous act was being committed towards a genuine Motown classic. Just wait til you hear one white guy ruin The Four Tops.

Score: 4

The Supremes: "Back in My Arms Again"

June 14, 1965 (1 week)

Formed in Detroit in 1959 as The Primettes, the trio of Diana Ross, Florence Ballard and Mary Wilson struggled for the better part of half a decade. While other acts in the Motown stable seemed to catch on fairly quickly, they seemed snake bit, their early singles barely able to get as high as number seventy-five on Billboard's Hot 100. At long last, "Where Did Our Love Go?" gave them a global smash and, suddenly, they could do no wrong. The Supremes would go on to have a streak of five straight chart toppers in the United States, all but one of which is remembered fondly to this day.

Somehow or other, the reliably brilliant singles "Baby Love" and "Stop! In the Name of Love" failed to reach the top Canadian charts. The former didn't even come all that close, only just making the Top 10 at the end of 1964. As I have previously discussed, Motown acts had trouble reaching the summit up north. (It may seem like even The Supremes were unlucky up in Canada but they fared better than anyone else on their label) Still, a pair of chart toppers is impressive enough and the momentum was such that they managed a third just as the summer was upon us. Plus, this was The Supremes who were clearly given favourable treatment at Motown and, as such, had an inexhaustible supply of first rate material to choose from. 

Wait, "Back in My Arms Again"? There's a good chance the average person has never heard it. Those that have could have easily forgotten all about it. I am in one of those camps: it feels like I really ought to have heard it over the years but I have no recollection of doing so. "Where Did Our Love Go?", "Baby Love", "Come See About Me" and "Stop! In the Name of Love" all have unforgettable choruses that can be imprinted on listeners after just one listen. The famed Holland/Dozier/Holland writing team had been working on a formula but it's hard to argue with success. This, their fifth hit on the bounce, went to number one on both the Hot 100 and Canada' RPM charts but something wasn't quite right. Someone seemed to be messing with said formula.

While there are many of the usual Surpreme trademarks — those recognizable Motown hooks, a chorus that's been telegraphed a mile away, Diana Ross' nasally tone — something's missing. The fact that it isn't about heartbreak but rather a reconciliation is the first giveaway that things are different this time round. More significantly, everything beyond the vocals feel phoned in. Holland/Dozier/Holland weren't immune to being formulaic with other artists — The Four Tops' followed their US number one smash "I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch)" with "It's the Same Old Song" with a title acknowledging how much they'd been slacking (and I say this as someone who absolutely adores it) — but this feel like the first instance in which they just stopped caring.

Easily the most fascinating aspect of "Back in My Arms Again" is the sheer cattiness of the lyrics near the end of the song. "How can Mary tell me what to do", coos Ross, "when she lost her love so true". Uh, maybe because Mary Wilson was your friend and bandmate and she gave a shit about you, Di. "And Flo, she don't know," she continues, "'Cause the boy she loves is a Romeo". Well, frankly, Florence Ballard was the really pretty one in The Supremes so what the hell did you expect? They gave you bad advice, huh? Somehow I doubt it. This cad you're with is going to reveal himself before long: will you be crawling back to the friends you've spurned at that point?

It isn't so much that the three members of The Supremes operated behind the scenes in this fashion but the fact that the Motown brass would've allowed such a thing to get out. (Not to mention Holland-Dozier-Holland composing such lines to begin with) They must really have thought highly of Diana Ross at even this early stage that they could already be fomenting dissent within her group. Pop music svengalis are supposed to mold their charges into appearing like close friends, not bitter rivals sniping at one another in plain sight. And yet, worst of all, they couldn't even make a convincingly excellent single out of all this (real or staged) in-fighting. Somehow they were being too formulaic and not formulaic enough all at once.

Score: 5

The Supremes: "Come See About Me"

January 11, 1965 (1 week)

"That's the first record to start with a fade in, before The Beatles, before Talking Heads, before any fucker..."

— Diana Ross (possibly)

We tend to assume that the innovations made in music are the product of creative types unconcerned about commercial pressures. Well, I tend to make this assumption at any rate. By the end of 1964, The Beatles were already making the most of having virtually unlimited time for recording at Abbey Road Studios. While they had many ideas they wished to explore, they were also fortunate enough to utilize accidents that befell them. The feedback on "I Feel Fine" came from leaving a guitar propped up against Paul McCartney's bass amp just as he was playing it. The result was a sound they'd never heard before which was reason enough to include it.

And yet, "Come See About Me" starts with a fade in, which the Fab Four wouldn't attempt for another few months, on a single by The Supremes. Played by famed Motown house band The Funk Brothers. Recorded at Hitsville, USA. Not quite where we'd imagine the studio boffins to be at work on some zany sonic experiments. (That said, Motown's original recording facility in Detroit had more in common with Abbey Road than the state-of-the-art setups in LA and New York. These two, along with smaller, often makeshift studios in Memphis, Tennessee or Bearsville, New York or Kingston, Jamaica tended to be more the home for innovation than the glossy and slick mainstream locales)

Not unlike "I Feel Fine", "Come See About Me" has its startling opening before settling into the comfiness of pop music warmth. If anything, The Supremes do so far more effectively than The Beatles in this instance. For while their fifth Canadian number one represents the Fabs settling into a more-of-the-same routine (something they would promptly abandon), this key track from Diana Ross, Florence Ballard and Mary Wilson shows them just getting the swing of this pop lark.

"Where Did Our Love Go?" and "Baby Love" are both outstanding but in a bubble they're just a pair of singles that, frankly, just about anyone could've had a hit with. "Come See About Me" is the first one that could have only been done by The Supremes, as if the writing team of Holland/Dozier/Holland had begun tailoring their material around them. It is, therefore, rather jarring to hear Nella Dodds' version from right around the same time. (Her rendition predated The Supremes on the charts only for it to be usurped) With all due respect to her languid delivery, it just sounds wrong. Dodds steers into its melancholy while Ross acts above it. The Funk Brothers give a relaxed performance, almost as if they were just working it out in the studio, which doesn't quite measure up to the swinging cool they give off when backing The Supremes.

The one real knock against it is that this turning point for the group also became the very thing that would conspire to hold them back. Yes, The Supremes released numerous sublime singles over the remainder of the sixties (not to mention a few pretty good ones in the seventies) but they never kept moving forward. Motown's window was only open to innovation for a brief period. Much as I love a lot of their stuff, they couldn't quite get into that upper tier where The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Aretha Franklin and Otis Redding all resided. Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder had to instigate power plays on Motown in order to wrest control and rise to that vaunted place; Ross had to be on an entirely different label for her to get there. As great as "Come See About Me" is, I just wish it had been the start of creative explosion, not a place for them to just happily do more of the same.

Score: 9

~~~~~

Can Con

Coming in as an EXTRA — caps not mine — on RPM's Top 40 & 5 (I think that's called a Top 45) is the Vancouver-born Ray Griff, a country/rockabilly singer, who, not unlike recent Can Con alum Joe Popiel, lived much of his life in my hometown of Calgary. Apparently he was once even a regular at the semi-legendary country roadhouse pub Ranchman's. (I've never been there but I've heard some stories) "That Weepin' Willow Tree" is brisk and has some old fashioned country-gospel underpinning its rock 'n' roll swagger. Griff doesn't hold back which is a perfectly fine choice though I have to wonder if too much of him could leave audiences wanting a lot less. It is, however, a welcome reminder of just how fantastic Elvis used to be. Not exactly my sort of thing but good for what it is.

The Supremes: "Where Did Our Love Go"

September 1, 1964 (1 week)

The metro areas of Seattle and Vancouver practically spill into one another while Buffalo, New York might as well be the US extension of Ontario's Golden Horseshoe but the major American city that is closest to Canada is Detroit. All one has to do is to cross the Ambassador Bridge and they'll be in mid-sized Canadian city of Windsor. 

(Madcap British singer-songwriter-historian Julian Cope believed that John Lennon and Yoko Ono initially wanted to have their famous bed-in for peace at a hotel in the Michigan city but when they couldn't get a visa, they went across the river to Toronto. Now where to begin with this claim? First, far be it from being just over the river, it takes around four hours to drive from Detroit to Toronto. Next, the Bed-In as well as the recording of the seminal "Give Peace a Chance" took place at a hotel in Montreal. Oh, and there's nothing in the way of evidence that this was even contemplated in the first place. But, otherwise, good job there Jules!)

The proximity to Canada hasn't done much for Motor City artists. There had already been three number one hits by Motown acts on the Hot 100 but they all came up short on the CHUM charts. (The Marvelettes' "Please Mister Postman" doesn't seem to have charted at all which must be down to either neglect on the part of Motown or disinterest on the part of Canadians — or both) Though The Supremes ended up having their share of chart toppers on the RPM listings — even if a total of five is still rather low - this trend seems to have continued with both The Four Tops and The Temptations being without a single Canadian number one between them. No "Baby I Need Your Loving"? "My Girl"? "Reach Out (I'll Be There)"? "Just My Imagination (Running Away with Me)"? Nah, screw that shit, Canadians had Herman's Hermits singles to buy. (Spoiler alert: Herman's Hermits will be coming up a lot in this space. I predict at some point you'll read a review of one of their RPM number ones and you'll think, "well, that's got to be the last one from them, right?" and you will be dead wrong)

I love The Four Tops and I dig The Temptations nearly as much but neither of them were close to The Supremes. With all due respect to Florence Ballard and Mary Wilson, much of this was down to Diana Ross. While seemingly everyone else in the Motown stable possessed a stronger voice — and that even includes her own bandmates — there wasn't anyone who sounded remotely like her. It's scarcely singing at all, more a lilting whisper with the volume cranked up. Surely no one else in the history of pop has made the word 'yearning' sound so, well, yearning. The girl groups effortlessly pulled off sass but they couldn't do innocence and vulnerability like she could. Whatsmore, Ross also gave off the distinct impression that she wasn't someone to mess with.

While some of those wonderful Holland-Dozier-Holland compositions would soon begin to dazzle listeners with instantly lovable choruses and tight grooves, "Where Did Our Love Go" is remarkably low-key. Ian MacDonald described it as having a "frugal starkness" not unlike The Beatles' "Love Me Do" and it's hard to disagree. You don't even get one of those trademark drum rolls that kick start virtually every other Motown single of the era. (On the other hand, Mike Terry's rough, almost barroom baritone sax solo is as good as the one he played a year earlier on Martha Reeves and the Vandellas' "Heat Wave") I don't know if this was his intention but introducing the public to The Supremes with something very intimate was a masterful stroke on the part of label kingpin Berry Gordy. This was not your typical girl group. They were taking you into their private lives, into diary entries that were otherwise locked tight and into notes passed around the classroom.

The Supremes aside, there won't be any further Motown singles covered in this space until we get to the seventies — and even then there won't be all that many. As we're already starting to see, Canadians were simply too caught up in the British Invasion to be all that concerned about all the outstanding music being made just on the other side of the Detroit River. The craze for British pop, however, was only just getting started.

Score: 9