'What's Going On' & 'Let's Get It On' & 'Here My Dear'

No one could do what Marvin Gaye could do. Now or then.

I beg you to do a Google search for his isolated vocal track for "I Heard It Through The Grapevine." Effortless and perfect.

I think he's probably the best soul vocalist in the genre's short history and I can't really imagine anyone being as good as Gaye was. It makes even more tragic that Gaye wound up with a heavy cocaine problem, money issues and his inexplicable death at the hands of his father.

I think What's Going On and Let's Get It On are the superior albums, but all three characterize Gaye in a lot of ways. After an extremely successful debut in the Motown world including a bevy of duet hits, he recorded the socially conscious What's Going On inspired by Obie Benson (of the Four Tops) witnessing police violence during a war protest in Berkeley.

Berry Gordy refused to release it. Gaye went on strike until it was. And it was in 1971 and went No. 1.

Two years later Gaye recorded and released Let's Get It On (I've always wondered if he intended these albums to be companion pieces because of the use of "on" as a sort of "make love not war" thing). In a lot of ways it's the complete opposite of What's Going On because it's just full of sexual, carnal energy.

Here My Dear is my least favorite of these three 1970s albums from Gaye. It's dour and sad. It is inspired by his divorce from his wife.  In seven years, Gaye managed to run the gamut of emotions from the heartbreak to sheer elation.

'3+3'

The truest definition of The Isley Brothers. This was the first album that included the original three -- Rudolph, Ronald and O'Kelly -- in addition to the youngest two -- Marvin and Ernie.

It also featured Isley brother-in-law Chris Jasper, a keyboardist who also played the Arp synthesizer, most notably used with a lot of success in the 1970s by Stevie Wonder. He was recording his magnum opus, Innervisions, at the very same time. In fact, the Isleys walked in on Lil' Stevie laying down "Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing."

3+3 is a fantastic album and certainly a must-have for anyone who loves R&B and soul in addition to anything from the 1970s. It's fresh and yet alarmingly classic. It features covers of "Summer Breeze" (better than Seals and Croft) and the Doobies' "Listen to the Music."

Not to be outdone, they covered themselves re-recording "Who's that Lady" as "That Lady Pt. 1 & 2." Nevertheless, can't encourage you enough to go get this album. Top to bottom, it's gold.

‘1999’ & ‘Purple Rain’ & ‘Sign "O" The Times’

Prince is guy whose aura overshadows the reason he’s famous in the first place. The dancing, costumes, androgynous appearance, the seclusion, being a Jehovah’s Witness, being a punchline for Dave Chappelle, a Minnesota Vikings fan, being from Minnesota and still living in Minnesota.

My favorite tidbit is that, despite all the names, his real name is Prince.

Despite all that, he’s one of the biggest superstar recording artists of all time releasing probably three of the most famous albums of the 1980s despite not being penned in by any genre (soul? Funk? New wave? R&B? rock? ) or by any one audience (white or back), which is probably why he’s sold as many albums as he has despite being kind of a weirdo.

It’s a weird career that no one can put a label on and I would only assume that Prince himself would not want it any other way.

My first exposure to Prince came during the first Tim Burton-directed Batman movie, which was probably my first foray into absurdist art. First, there’s Burton writing this very disjointedly awesome movie, with so many one liners that I still don’t understand. Then, there’s Prince. Thinking back, his songs from the soundtrack are written into the movie: When The Joker invades the museum, the parade scene et al. And these are oddly melodic songs about nothing. Or about sex. Sorta depends on what you read into the lyrics. I wouldn’t say I came out of that experience a fan, but Prince definitely had my attention.

Fast forward the next decade and Prince became more of a reclusive oddity that … oddly enough still recorded albums and toured a lot. A guy that doesn’t have to do either because he’s insanely rich (and he lives in Minnesota). I would not shock anyone to see such a private dude just to slink back to his house and disappear for 20 years.

 

He doesn’t. He has zero problems recording albums, touring and even getting the Super Bowl halftime gig where he simulated masturbation with his guitar.

If you cut all this bullshit out, you have some really great songs. I listened to these three albums and kept finding a new song that I remember and really love. I wish I had a simple relationship with Prince. That’s not what Prince wants.

'The World Is A Ghetto'

The band, War, conceived albums that correctly mirrored the times and pop culture of their era, particularly the 1970s. 

Not being born until 1980, I can only judge this time period based on the pop culture of the time. Although writers had been chronicling the plight of the poor (and that of the African American) for decades, it wasn’t until the 1970s that music, TV and film followed – all a decade after the Civil Rights movement, Great Society legislation and the ebb of the folkie/hippie protest movement. 

There seemed to be a settling here, and I’m talking out of my butt here. Things were “better” because the Vietnam War would start to wind down, legislation for rights fought for in the 1960s were taking root. On paper, things were “getting better.” 

However, it also appears that this time period is when the poor started associating themselves – with an overwhelming amount of pride – with their neighborhoods, or ghettos. It’s seen first hand during the busing riots in Boston. Granted, it had a lot to do about race. It also had a lot to do with how we identify ourselves with where we live, the people that live around us and how poor (or rich) we are. 

I find it interesting that a lot of sitcoms from this era (and even the 1980s) would show the front of the house during the opening credits. Many show a car ride’s view of the surrounding area. This is notable in All in the Family. Overhead view of the Good Times neighborhood is prevalent. 

The World is a Ghetto is a dark soundtrack to these streets and alleys. There isn’t the canned laughter of sitcoms. There aren’t the heroes of the films. It’s a group of guys telling an honest story of people that are stuck with almost no hope. 

War actually started in Los Angeles, unique for being multi-cultural in the line-up. They first backed up Los Angeles Rams defensive lineman Deacon Jones. Then they were discovered by former Animal Eric Burdon, who recorded two albums and toured with War. He left the band mid-tour in Europe and a year later they released their own record. A year after that, they gave us The World is a Ghetto. 

'Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite'

The number films, books or records that almost never make it out into production is pretty vast. Maybe the suits in the offices that make decisions about release are just too shortsighted or dumb.

Maybe the book, record or film are just not very good and are successful in spite of themselves. It's impossible to understand if something is going to make money even if everything inside of you tells it it won't.

Maxwell was in his early 20s when Columbia Records gave him complete creative control of his debut album and even allowed him to produce it. This is a kid with no history or actual fanbase needed for a Columbia release and they're giving him the keys to daddy's car.

He recorded the album and it sat on the shelf for a year for any number of reasons, which include Columbia not thinking it was going to be very successful financially.

Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite started slow on the charts although it was a critical hit. With enough singles and exposure in films and whatnot, it was certified gold a year after release and has sold two million overall.

Maybe more significantly, and I realize that the heads of Columbia can't pay their stockholders with this, is that it became a large part of the neo-soul scene that included D'Angelo and Erykah Badu. To be honest, I don't know what this really means outside of it being new, young artists doing pretty standard soul music. Listen to it and it's not unlike what others did before or after. Maybe it's all marketing.

'Mama's Gun'

Took me forever to find this album. Strange because I live in Erykah Badu's hometown, so you'd think there'd be plenty of copies hanging about.

Badu's been a person I've wanted to get into for a long time. Mostly because she has style. I often comment on the cover art on a book and what a difference my perception of that book compared to how I would actually enjoy that book.

Same with musicians. I'm addicted to the style and mystique as much as anyone. Badu has it. She's cooler than the other side of the pillow and the scary thing is, she knows it. It's not beauty that scares men shitless. It's confidence. Only someone as brash as Andre 3000 could make Badu swoon.

Anyway, it's a really good album and it whets the appetite to go out and find more. She's a beautiful, talented woman and if she needs someone to dissatisfy her physically and emotionally, I'm free.

Call me.

'Let's Stay Together'

Al Green was a spry 26 years old when his magnum opus, Let's Stay Together, in 1972. He looks 16.

Ironically, it was at age 16 when Green was kicked out of his gospel singing group in Grand Rapids. By his father. For listening to Jackie Wilson. Needless to say, Green would rebound.

He's one of the few singers that is signature and distinguished. I'd put James Brown, Otis Redding, Sam Cookie and Wilson Pickett in the same boat. That's some heady company.

In 1974, Green's girlfriend (a married woman) was apparently very upset about Green's hesistation in marrying her. So, she goes over, dumps a pan of boiling grits on him while in the shower and then kills herself.

It was a "come to Jesus" moment for Green. He'd then embrace the Lord and become an ordained priest.

Maybe his dad had a point. Jackie Wilson is bad business.

'Rock 'N Soul'

My favorite effect of this 1,001 project is the amount of soul that I've subjected myself to the last several years. They've by far been the most anticipated and loved albums that I've discovered.

Therefore, I've been dying to listen to Solomon Burke's magnum opus Rock 'N Soul. Burke was known as the "King of Rock 'N Soul" which was derived from a quote from Burke, who stated "without soul, there'd be no rock, and without rock, there'd be no soul."

This of course opens the door for a discussion about the etymology of music and how all of this crap is related and often a mere instrument or genre-changing studio trick away from being something else. For example, how is "Honky Tonk Woman" not a country single? If Toby Keith reocrded it exactly as the Rolling Stones did, it would be.

Add a fiddle or steel guitar to a song, it's country. Add synthesized keyboard or process drums and its pop. Add an overly distorted guitar and its rock.

The bottom line is that all modern music outside of world and classical is connected and only seemingly separated by our own imaginations.

This was especially true in 1965 when Burke released Rock 'N Soul, just several years after The Beatles were covering Little Richard and Elvis Presley was making black music incredible popular.

Rock 'N Soul did not disappoint personally. It's a beautiful album with a ton of rock characteristics and is surprisingly un-soullike. It's not the same as Sam Cooke or Otis Redding, yet it highlights Burke's beautiful vocal styling. Often, it seems more like Nat King Cole than modern (at the time) soul singers. Fantastic album.

'Live At The Apollo'

Behind the ridiculous hair and the flashy outfits. Forget all of the children. Nevermind the showmanship.

James Brown was a fantastic singer, beautiful bandleader and keeper of the soul.

In more than 50 years, he went from being a kid with no home staying in his aunt's whorehouse and spending time in prison for armed robbery to being the foremost soul singer to being a joke, a punchline.

He was an eccentric man with the without-a-doubt ability to absolutely turn any song into a gut-wrenching, hip-swiveling sex groove, and that will be forgotten because the guy was a bit kooky and loved getting women pregnant. Kind of tragic.

Brown was also a man of certain civil values. His role in the civil rights movement and black pride is astounding. He seemed extremely grounded for a man with a trillion illegitimate children. He addressed issues like dropping out and if his messages were any indication, he was quite the patriot as a proud American who realized without his birthright in the United States, he wouldn't have the opportunities given to him.

Live at the Apollo is Brown's only album on the 1,001 list. It contains no viable hits and only one marginal one ("Please, Please, Please"). If you're looking for radio fodder, get his greatest hits. If you want a peak into the sweat-drenched pleading and soul, get this album.

'Hot Buttered Soul'

When Isaac Hayes died in 2008, I read countless stories and obits about the man and instantly wanted to listen to his magnum opus, Hot Buttered Soul.

For one, the title is freaking awesome and the album art is pretty kickass.

Two, Hayes is the type that I've always admired in the art world. A guy that was good enough to pretty much do what he wanted. He wasn't splashy; he just played really good music.

And it is good music. Soulful and real. He's not layering fake horns with synthesizers or this overly processed bass guitar. You can hear the buzz and scratch of all the instruments despite it being incredibly smooth.

Hayes took his job seriously and I can't say the same for most people. Like me.

Also, it's worth noting that this album came out in 1969. The same year as Abbey Road, The Band, Led Zeppelin II, The Velvet Underground and Tommy were released. Way before his time.

'Live At The Harlem Square Club'

Oh, I like this song.

During "For Sentimental Reasons," Sam Cooke is through a couple of lines through the song when he says "Oh, I like this song."

It couldn't be more sincere. More revealing. "For Sentimental Reasons" was recorded and released relatively early in his mainstream career, having gone to the public in 1957 and peaking at No. 17 in the charts and No. 5 on the R&B charts.

It wasn't a current song nor was it necessarily a big hit. But I can picture Cooke on the stage at the Harlem Square Club with his eyes closed and grinning saying, "Oh, I like this song."

He didn't like it because it made him a lot of money or really because it was insanely popular. It was just a good song. A song that you could've taken the lyrics and scribbled them on a note and given it to a loved one.

It's a sweet, romantic song. Sam Cooke liked that song just like any regular human being might like any song.

In the next line, Cooke proceeds to lead the audience in a sing-along. Cooke would recite the proceeding line of the song and then an explosion of unmiked voices from the crowd just scream out the lyrics. The next line. Again, the cacophony of voices erupts from the speakers.

There's something special about Sam Cooke. I'm not saying anything that hadn't been said the previous 50 years. Cooke started extremely early when he bridged the gap between gospel, pop and then soul. For my money, he's better than Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Al Green or anyone else as a singer.

The live album is much more raw and finds Cooke in his natural habitat performing for others, leading them in the appreciation of great songs and letting him present another version of his songs -- some hits, some new songs.

More importantly, it puts Cooke's sensationally unique voice in the limelight. Why is Cooke better than those other names? Cooke sang with such ease. He put as little effort and received the most back. He sang as easily as most of us talk.

'Brown Sugar'

The only reason I gave D'Angelo's "Brown Sugar" a lick of attention is due to a story I recently read in SPIN magazine about the former R&B superstar, who basically fell off the face of the music world.

I'm always eerily fascinated by the story of the person who is not mentally capable of doing what he or she does best. Whether it's a baseball player, singer, actor or whatever.

It's more interesting when there doesn't seem to be any drugs involved. Or when drugs really aren't the story, but are in the scene. Read Johnny Cash's autobiography or whatever. Yes, he was popping pills, but there were a ton more problems with the guy other than a hectic schedule, the high or stress.

D'Angelo may never record or release another song or album ever. Or he may release 10. Who knows? What I do know is that in the late-1990s, he was the end-all, be-all of R&B music and he released a spectacular album, which probably defines him more than any breakdown or magazine story.

'Lady Soul'

It's solid, but not nearly has good as her earlier albums.

I tend to question the inclusion of "Groovin'." But whatever.

I also tend to think her vocals aren't has exemplary as they are on other albums. "

However, between "Chain of Fools," "People Get Ready," "A Natural Woman," "Since You've Been Gone" and others, it's really hard to split hairs over good and really good.

'From Elvis in Memphis'

I always wonder if Elvis Presley was doing what he wanted, music-wise.

Personally, to go from gospel, to rock, to soul, to blues and back again between albums sounds fantastic and if I had to place money on the question, I would assume that the King had a blast making albums like this.

Basically rolling into one of the greatest music cities in the world, taking your pick from the best players in the world and making whatever album you wanted to make. Want to do gospel? OK, you're the King. Do gospel. Soul? Sure, let's the Memphis Horns in here to lay down some tracks.

I'm sure Elvis had problems, but I hope that he realized that he was doing something really cool and unique.

'Dusty in Memphis'

Dusty Springfield, without looking at her, oozes sex.

This album, for example, is essentially about lovemaking. Whether behind a church or in the morning.

She just has the sultriness in her voice mixed with the lyrics and pretty soon you're rubbing up against desks and walls.

I should listen to less Dusty Springfield.

Or listen while looking at her picture. Yikes.

'I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You'

You will never, ever, ever go wrong with any soul from the 1960s. It's impossible. Just name a name, name and album and it will be as fresh, poignant, emotional and good as it was 40 years ago.

The same can not be said of rock, rap, country or a billion other genres. Soul is timeless and it was done so well in the 1960s that it can never go wrong.

Not that the Queen of Soul would ever put out a stinker in her heyday. But there's a reason she's on the throne.

This era of music is much, much better than we probably all think. In fact, it's probably the best era and genre of music of all time.

'Otis Blue: Otis Redding Sings Soul'

When Otis Redding prays “It’s been a long, a long time coming/But I know a change gonna come” from a cover of Sam Cooke’s “A Change is Gonna Come” it makes you hollow. Or at least feel hollow.

You realize it’s a broken man seeking salvation. He sings with such conviction and soul. Never has a man had the blues so bad.