1) You; 2) Tear
It On Down; 3) Chained; 4) I Heard It Through The Grapevine; 5) At Last; 6) Some
Kind Of Wonderful; 7) Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever; 8) Change What You Can;
9) It's Love I Need; 10) Every Now And Then; 11) You're What's Happening (In
The World Today); 12) There Goes My Baby.
General verdict: Three cool singles against a bunch of
filler. But the cool singles have the upper hand.
To be perfectly honest, this record is really
all about the three hit singles — but the three hit singles are way more than
just three more hit singles this time around. In The Groove, later re-released as I Heard It Through The Grapevine (for fairly obvious reasons), was
released at the dawn of a new era for R&B — one that took it to more somber
depths and added all sorts of heavy, acid, and psychological elements to the
mix, spurred on by the Jimi Hendrix revolution and numerous other factors. And
while the LP as such is clearly transitional — the second side in particular
contains plenty of soft covers that already seem antiquated next to the biggies
— it is still a watermark, allowing us to observe Marvin Gaye's evolution from
artistic adolescence to musical maturity. A big part of this is personal: Tammi
Terrell's onstage collapse in October '67 left Marvin a deeply changed man, and
I could swear I actually hear some of that pain on many of the songs here. But
there is also no getting away from the fact that the changes coincided with a
lot of general changes in the overall Motown / Atlantic / black R&B sound
around 1968-69 — a magnificent epoch for that label, before the soft-rock
turnaround came along and ate it all away.
The change should have been announced with ʽI
Heard It Through The Grapevineʼ, of course, but that song has a very strange
history — it was recorded first by The Miracles, as early as August '66, but
vetoed by Berry Gordy and shelved until late 1968. Then it was recorded by Marvin, in April '67, but again vetoed by Berry Gordy and also
shelved until the release of the album in late 1968. Then it was recorded by Gladys Knight & The Pips, but in an
entirely different arrangement that lacked the distinctive organ riff and
generally sounded happier and livelier — the first version to actually get an
official release. Then it was finally
approved by Gordy for Marvin, and became one of his biggest selling records of
all time. And, of course, to complete the saga, then it was appropriated by Creedence Clearwater Revival in 1970
and became the basis for their most fabulous jam session of all time. One hell
of a journey.
Anyway, Fogerty and company chose to model
their sound after Marvin's rather than Gladys', and for a good reason. The
organ riff, played by Earl Van Dyke of The Funk Brothers, is one of the
grumbliest, most subtly menacing organ riffs of all time — it gives the song a
sharp, scary angle that seriously hints that the protagonist got madness in his
soul and murder on his mind (whereas Gladys Knight only had agitated
indignation). This is also the first time that Marvin sang in a much higher
vocal register than usual, occasionally rising to falsetto, spurred on by the
song's author Norman Whitfield, and the effect is radical — it's as if he'd
finally agreed to open up the cage where all those proverbial «inner demons»
had been tranquilised up till now. Throw in the marvelous orchestrating job
(Gordon Staples directing the Detroit Symphony Orchestra and telling Tchaikovsky
the news), and you get a completely new set of feels here — not just for
Marvin, whose heartbreakers had been relatively inoffensive before (even ʽBaby
Don't You Do Itʼ was a whine, not a menace), but for Motown in general. Me being such a sucker for juicy
electric guitar and powerful drumming, I'll generally stick with the CCR
version anyway, but for the shorter, vocally-dominated approach, Marvin's take
here has no equal.
As it happened, though, ʽGrapevineʼ was denied
the chance to become the first single; that honor went to ʽYouʼ, written by Ivy
Jo Hunter and a couple other guys. While that song does not have such a
distinctive hook as ʽGrapevineʼ, it is subject to the same shift in mood anyway
— the frantically pumping bass, the tense strings, the harpsichords,
glockenspiels, and recorders creating an agitated symphonic effect, and, on top
of that, another high-pitched, falsetto-happy performance that may well have
been influenced by Marvin's feelings about Tammi ("you, you I see in my
mirror in the mornin' / Instead of seein' me / I see you, I see your face / And
inside me is a growing need for your embrace" — even if they never really
had a romantic involvement, it is hard to picture him singing that into the
microphone and not thinking back on his own situation). The other single,
ʽChainedʼ, largely repeats the same approach, although here the big badass
brass arrangement takes precedence over «baroque» elements, and the bass groove
has much more freedom to roam, taking your attention away from the vocals and
directing it more towards the instrumental track.
As I already said, though, the LP itself is
clearly transitional. Some of the non-single tracks are in the same vein (ʽIt's
Love I Needʼ also establishes a ʽChainedʼ-like heavy groove), but others are
happy-dippy soulful pop concoctions without a single trouble in the world — Goffin
& King's ʽSome Kind Of Wonderfulʼ, the Four Tops' ʽLoving You Is Sweeter
Than Everʼ, the Drifters' ʽThere Goes My Babyʼ, all these nice songs just sound
fluffy in the company of ʽI Heard It Through The Grapevineʼ, and there is
hardly any reason to treasure Marvin's take on them when you have the superior
originals available.
Therefore, as an album, In The Groove still suffers from the same old inconsistency, and it
would still take a bit of time before Marvin Gaye learned — and/or was allowed
to — profit from the LP form for bona fide artistic purposes. But at least
there are no obvious gaffes: the filler might seem uncomfortable next to the
kick-ass singles, sure, yet they kept him away from bland Boradway schlock, and
there is nothing morally wrong to hear ʽThere Goes My Babyʼ one more time, if
only just to remind you how good that song is. So, perhaps there are no good
reasons to keep the album in your collection if you have all the good stuff on
an anthology, but I'd rate it pretty high anyway — the high points are awesome,
and the low points do not succeed in making the high ones seem any slighter.
After all, we get to hear a new, improved Marvin Gaye here, so what's the
problem if the old one has not quite finished moving out yet?..
AfaIc Marvin Gaye's Live at Montreux version annihilates every other recording, especially including CCR's overrated ones.
ReplyDeleteTypo in the last paragraph: "Boradway".
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