When “I Heard It Through The Grapevine” gave Marvin Gaye his first and only UK number one in February 1969, he planned to tour the country to cash in on the success.  For some reason, the tour failed to materialise, leaving Motown/EMI grappling to keep the momentum of his chart topper.  Shortly after the single’s unexpected success – no-one was more surprised than Berry Gordy – Marvin’s devoted singing partner, Tammi Terrell was hospitalised for the first of several major operations. This led to Marvin walking away from the excitement generated by his single as he became consumed by concern over the ailing Tammi.  So, thinking on their feet, Motown’s UK office quickly re-named and re-promoted the album holding the number one to “In The Groove”/”I Heard It Through The Grapevine”.

Let’s take a step back to re-visit the story and shenanigans going on behind the scene to actually secure the release of “Grapevine”. It’s probably well-known but to remind us and perhaps enlighten newer readers, here’s a potted version.  The multi-visioned Norman Whitfield co-wrote, produced, recorded and canned the song with Marvin some time prior to it being released, and was the brainchild of its co-writer Barrett Strong. “I came up with a little idea on the piano, the bass-line figure.  We thought it was great, and I had thought of this title ‘I Heard It Through the Grapevine’ because I’d heard people saying it so much, but nobody had ever written a song about it.  We just went from there.”

Apparently, when Norman Whitfield played the song to Berry, he was shocked when the Motown boss turned it down, with him saying ‘it sucked’ and ‘wasn’t a hit’. Norman refused to take this sitting down, and recorded another, and totally different, version with Gladys Knight and the Pips:  their version was verging on frantic, while Marvin’s was haunting and hypnotic. With Marvin’s original now exiled to collect dust, Gladys’ version, released in September 1967, went on to sell over two million copies, hitting the top in America’s mainstream chart.  “I love Gladys very much, she’s great, but she always seemed to have that little number about this song,” Marvin said one time. “It’s something that just ticks her off about the whole ‘Grapevine’ situation…But the reality of the situation is that Norman cut the song on me first and Berry canned it because he didn’t have a lot of faith in it.  Or maybe I was acting ridiculous at the time….Norman knew he had a good song, so he cut it on Gladys and came out with her version first.  When Motown released my version, it seemed to Gladys to be a bit unethical because you don’t want somebody from your own company covering your own record. But it was through no fault of my own.”  On the other hand, The Pips’ Merald Knight commented, “We took (the song) home, worked hard to give it a new treatment and Norman hardly had to do anything.  That one wasn’t nothing until we took it.”  Gladys, meanwhile, was more gracious when she said,  “I really believe that that was the key to our whole future…and I believe this was the magic record that started our career moving.”

With this success, Norman Whitfield pushed harder to get Marvin’s version, which – let’s not forget – was totally and utterly different, released. But still Berry gave the thumbs down.  However, he did agree it could be included on “In The Groove”. The song was resurrected by Billie Jean Brown, head of Quality Control, who was searching for material for the pending album.  She played it to a Chicago DJ, who went on to influence Motown to release it as a single.  Then Phil Jones, Motown’s promotion director, received a call from WVON’s Rodney Jones saying he had played “Grapevine” and the ‘phones had lit up’. As further radio play took hold, Berry had no choice but to relent, whereupon it outsold Gladys’  version to become Motown’s biggest selling single (at that time) to date!

With the Andantes, The Originals, Gladys Knight and the Pips among the backing vocalists, “In The Groove”/”I Heard It Through The Grapevine” included classic tracks like “You”, “Chained”, “Tear It On Down” and “Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever”.  To all intents and purposes, it was a well-balanced project with seriously strong single contenders. However, no awards would have been given out for the actual record sleeve with its green and blue stripes, with a singing Marvin slapped on  one side of the picture.  And I’m writing about an album that’s celebrating its fifty-fifth birthday this month!

Released alongside “In The Groove” in January 1970 and also celebrating the same birthday, was “Yesterday’s Dreams” by the Four Tops, a group that I unashamedly admit to loving since I first heard their “4 Tops On Broadway” (M 657) with all that wonderful vocal interplay on tracks like “Hello Broadway”, Climb Ev’ry Mountain”, “The Sound Of Music” and “My Way”.  It was produced by Frank Wilson, with vocal arrangements credited to group member, Larry Payton.  When their music evolved into the ground-breaking ‘Sound of young America’, they took me with them, which resulted in my running their fan club from my home in East Sussex.

By all accounts, the album was Berry’s idea as he wanted his artists to appeal to a wider audience.  Some reviewers believed it “an innovative release” while others thought it “a failed experiment”.  I care not; I have treated my well-thumbed album with huge respect over the years and wrapped it in a plastic cover to preserve it.  I wasn’t intending to write about “On Broadway”, but these things have a way of taking over, don’t they?

So, back to the plot. Recorded as Holland, Dozier, Holland were waving farewell to Motown, “Yesterday’s Dreams” contained a solitary track from them – the mighty “I’m In A Different World”.  It was custom-made for the group, but marked the end of an era; the dream team had been split in two.  Now was the time for the Four Tops to move on, and although their sound changed, it was successful.   So, it’s fair to say, the “Yesterday’s Dreams” track marked the start of this new era with Vernon Bullock, Jack Alan Goga, Ivy Jo Hunter and Pam Sawyer stepping in with this lamenting ballad, which Levi instantly made his own. Billboard magazine described it as one of their “most potent performances”, yet American audiences dumped it, while the British supported it into the top thirty.  Having said that, the Four Tops have always enjoyed a loyal and supportive fan base over here;  sadly, their home country thought otherwise, a situation shared by other Motown acts like Jimmy Ruffin and Edwin Starr, for starters.

“Yesterday’s Dreams”, the album, was bulked out with re-makes of mainstream songs like “Daydream Believer”, “A Place In The Sun”, “Sunny” and “By The Time I Get To Phoenix”.  Not unpleasant by any means, but not the Four Tops we’ve been accustomed to, yet “Can’t Seem To Get You Out Of My Mind” and “Remember When” went a long way to make up for it.  While their future musical direction caused a little concern among us fans, we did feel confident that they would quickly find their feet again, although the next album “Four Tops Now” wasn’t what we expected, as once again it was heavyweight with cover-versions. However, while I stood by the lead track “The Key” (which is a favourite on my Radio Illumini  play list) , “What Is A Man” and “Do What You Gotta Do” were top twenty UK hits.

From the Four Tops, to another fifty-fifth birthday album, “Love Child” released by Diana Ross and the Supremes – another A-list group to suffer from the departure of Holland, Dozier, Holland, giving Berry Gordy one helluva headache.  Not only that, the ladies had been struggling for record sales for some time, so it was imperative for Berry to retrieve their selling power, particularly as Diana’s solo career had been pencilled in on the Gordy calendar.  By now, he had relocated to Los Angeles, with Diana Ross following, to take up residence nearby to his mansion, so the first steps towards a solo career had been made.

Taking a giant leap with Ashford & Simpson’s “Some Things You Never Get Used To” as the first single – which had hit ingrained in every note – it struggled into the US top thirty and top forty in the UK.  This certainly wasn’t expected, so the album that was to follow bearing its title, was hastily cancelled.  “Heaven Must Have Sent You”, “Can I Get A Witness”, “My Guy”, “It’s Not Unusual” and “What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted” were among the canned tracks.

A re-think was needed, so Berry sought out Motown staffers, Pam Sawyer, R Dean Taylor, Frank Wilson, Hank Crosby and Deke Richards, among others, and incarcerated them in Detroit’s Pontchartrain Hotel for a weekend in September 1968 to bring home the hits.  Nicknamed The Clan, this clutch of songwriters returned Diana and the girls back on the right track.  With another track, “Love Child” completed, Diana and the Andantes, in place of Mary Wilson and Cindy Birdsong, headed for Studio A on 17 September, to record a song about a baby born out of wedlock into poverty.  Diana was not happy about recording the song by herself, angry that Mary was in Mexico, while Cindy “was rarely in the studio anyway”.  She further vented, “And we have Berry to thank for this. To work me to death, that’s his goal, isn’t it?”  Irrespective of her feelings, the session was a huge success, and hopes were high for a big seller. Cholly Atkins told author J Randy Taraborrelli that he was asked to choreograph a routine for the ladies. “As we were rehearsing with the record playing in the background, I realised they didn’t know it at all. I said, ‘You girls just recorded this damn record, how come you don’t know it?’ Mary looked at me and said, ‘Because we’re not on it, Cholly.  That’s why.’”

Diana and the Supremes debuted “Love Child” on the Ed Sullivan show.  They replaced their elegant gowns for ragged jeans, t-shirts and jackets, evoking a certain type of street-cred. Diana wore an oversized yellow sweat shirt bearing a “Love Child” emblem across her chest.  Natural Afro hair replaced their usual coiffured styles.  Their transformation may have startled some television viewers, as they watched and listened to an explicit tale of unwanted pregnancies, a prevailing problem among the young during the sixties, the decade of free love.  Everything about the single fell into place – it shot to the top of the US pop chart, and peaked in the UK top twenty.

Now to the album.  It appears the original concept was to devote it to social awareness matters.  However at the last minute, Berry changed his mind to play it safe, with a selection of uptempo music with upbeat lyrics. One track slipped through the net, namely, “Does Your Mama Know About Me”, penned by Tom Baird, and Tommy Chong, which Bobby Taylor & the Vancouvers recorded to enjoy a top thirty US hit.  Its powerful lyrics explored race through love in a world struggling to free itself from racial discrimination and, quite frankly, they are as relevant today as they were then.  How well I remember seeing the “Love Child” album sleeve for the first time, and wondering if the music reflected this new image of them as they hung around in an urban back alley. As previously mentioned, that may have been the intention but not carried through in the end. Why had Motown placed them in this political landscape when previously the intention was for them to appeal to all walks of life? By choosing this new identity, weren’t they confining their appeal to the R&B/Black market? As time passed, it dawned on me – Diana, Mary and Cindy had grown up, they had discovered the real outside world, and this was reflected in the album’s content, their most mature body of work to date.

Ashford & Simpson penned three titles –  “Keep An Eye”, “You Ain’t Livin’ Till You’re Lovin’” and the beforementioned “Some Things You Never Get Used To” – all of which were of the highest standard.  Smokey Robinson wrote the gloriously compulsive “He’s My Sunny Boy”, while Frank Wilson and Pam Sawyer’s “How Long Has That Evening Train Been Gone” was irresistible.  Yes, everything had fallen into place, and even though it wasn’t public knowledge, stalwart fans realised time was quickly running out for Diana to remain in The Supremes.  Did Mary and Cindy wonder what their future held?  I’m sure they did, particularly as their voices weren’t needed on records anymore.  So, when Jean Terrell replaced Diana, and the name of the Supremes was reinstated, they probably sighed deeply, and happily returned to their allotted places in the recording studio.

A promising new journey lay ahead for them, as Diana traded singing lyrics for an actor’s script.

Sharon Davis

(Acknowledgement to “Diana Ross: An Unauthorised Biography” by J Randy Taraborrelli)