Brenda Holloway: The Motown Anthology

BRENDA HOLLOWAY: THE MOTOWN ANTHOLOGY (1963-1968/2005)

CD II: 1) Think It Over (Before You Break My Heart); 2) I'll Always Love You; 3) Operator; 4) I'll Be Available; 5) Together 'Til The End Of Time; 6) Where Were You; 7) I've Got To Find It; 8) How Many Times Did You Mean It; 9) You've Changed Me; 10) All I Do Is Think About You; 11) Who Could Ever Doubt My Love; 12) Come Into My Palace; 13) He's My Kind Of Fellow; 14) You Need Me; 15) Love Woke Me Up This Morning; 16) I Prayed For A Boy; 17) Don't Judge Me; 18) I'll Always Meet You Half Way; 19) You Are Very Much A Part Of Me; 20) I'm On The Right Track; 21) How Can You Call It Love When The Feeling's Gone; 22) I See A Rainbow; 23) Play It Cool, Stay In School; 24) Summertime.

In the end, there's probably got to be a special mention of this package, even if it's cropped up several times already — because, as of now, the first CD of this edition is where you get your most natural, most properly remastered, and, for that matter, your only official access to Brenda's first two LPs: the filler-stuffed Every Little Bit Hurts and the prematurely shelved Hurtin' And Cryin'. This is just the first disc, though. The second one, once you get past the first bunch of tracks that duplicate some of the songs on The Artistry Of Brenda Holloway, is stoked with even more oldies that were written, arranged, recorded, and mixed by Motown — then, once again, left unreleased, with the invisible hand of Ms. Holloway's mortal enemy always blocking their public availability at the last moment. Imagine that — dozens and dozens of well-polished, completely marketable songs left to rot. What a waste, eh? And, most likely, all because of some silly intrigues and under-the-carpet competition.

Anyway, it is true that there are no genuinely outstanding nuggets here: most of these previously unavailable tunes are relatively standard Motown fare (not that «relatively standard Motown fare» songs have never been hits — from a commercial standpoint, quite a few of these could be winners circa 1965-67). Interestingly, most of them are also upbeat, overturning Holloway's «hurtin' and cryin'» image: for instance, ʽCome Into My Palaceʼ, a duet with sister Patrice, sounds like a merry Shirelles serenade from the beginning of the decade, and the Ed Cobb-written ʽYou Are Very Much A Part Of Meʼ, set to the ʽYou Can't Hurry Loveʼ rhythm, is an upwinding, ecstatic celebration of joy that shows all those little bits can heal pretty quickly, depending on what it is that you go into the studio with.

And on ʽI'm On The Right Trackʼ and ʽI See A Rain­bowʼ, the drummer pounds so hard and the back vocalists sing so tightly — you'd think the lady could have won over the audience with sheer collective energy alone, like The Four Tops won over the audiences not necessarily with melody, but with their sheer capacity to transmit that «jubilation vibe». As in, you have no idea why they're being that joyous about something, but they sure as hell are infectious. Admittedly, though, as I already said, Brenda's voice is not that well suited to transmit joy as it is to transmit sorrow — Diana Ross had her beat for a reason.

The last two tracks are worth noting for special reasons. ʽPlay It Cool, Stay In Schoolʼ is a pro­paganda ditty that Brenda recorded for a socially oriented purpose — each time I hear a song like this, I tell myself that I wouldn't mind paying to learn, out of sheer sociological interest, whether any single person in America ever changed his/her mind about dropping out based on any such musical «stimulation»? It's hilarious how they try to mold all these clichés like "when you learn more, you're bound to earn more" into catchy hooks — yes, some poor kid will definitely fall for that, humming these lines each day on the way to school. But then again, is there any psycholo­gical difference between a message-carrying pop-radio-jingle and a straightforward commercial advertising? Maybe it worked after all.

Then, at the very end, there is a rather beautiful live version of ʽSummertimeʼ, recorded some­where in a club setting and, for the first and last time, giving us a glimpse of what could have been if Brenda had settled for a career in vocal jazz instead. She's no Billie or Ella, of course, and her ʽSummertimeʼ may be a bit too slowed down, but she sings strongly, fluently, and passionate­ly, and could probably have assured herself a good position in the «B league» of jazz divas. But that, of course, could never have happened under contract with Motown, and by the time the contract was terminated, it was already too late. All in all, the more you listen to these songs, the more you tend to start thinking not about these songs, and not even about Brenda Holloway in particular, but about the good old «slings and arrows».

Anyway, get The Motown Anthology. All of us music lovers owe the unfortunate lady at least this one — ensure that her legacy lives on way beyond that of Taylor Swift, if possible.

Brenda Holloway: The Early Years

BRENDA HOLLOWAY: THE EARLY YEARS (1962-1964/2009)

1) Constant Love; 2) Suddenly; 3) The Game Of Love; 4) Hey Fool; 5) I Never Knew You Looked So Good Until I Quit You; 6) I Want A Boyfriend (Girlfriend); 7) I'll Give My Life; 8) I Ain't Gonna Take You Back; 9) Gonna Make You Mine; 10) Unless I Have You; 11) Candy; 12) Echo; 13) I Get A Feeling; 14) It's You; 15) He's Gone; 16) The Nursery; 17) Will You Be My Love; 18) I Told You Baby; 19) I'll Find Myself A Guy; 20) Do The Del Viking, Pt. 1; 21) You're My Only Love; 22) Every Little Bit Hurts (demo).

Few people know that Brenda Holloway actually had a recording career prior to her Motown engagement — and probably even fewer give a damn about that. Big frickin' mistake, as it turns out, now that we have this wonderful, carefully assembled collection of the various tracks that she recorded either as a solo artist, or as part of a duo or a vocal band from 1962 to early 1964. This compilation, as inauspicious as it is on the surface, is actually a fun-filled, representative slice of, let's say so, «Afro-American bubble-gum pop» in the pre-British Invasion era, and is not to be missed by any nostalgic fan of those young and innocent days.

First of all, it is interesting that very little here, if anything at all, actually sounds like ʽEvery Little Bit Hurtsʼ (for some strange reason, her original recording of it from 1962 is omitted here in favor of a new demo version from 1964, for Motown already — with strings instead of key­boards). Instead of being slow, regal, and tragic, she comes across as upbeat, energetic, loud, sometimes even abrasive — and occasionally screeching her head off with even more reckless­ness than Aretha in those same years. Of course, this is all basically «teen pop» without much pretense at depth of any sort, but it does raise the issue of pigeonholing: here, she is all over the place, and then, in one year's time, she'd become a prisoner of her biggest hit. Was that voluntary, or the result of Motown's forceful image-making? Just three or four of these songs, had they been included on her first LP, would have made it far less formulaic and far more exciting.

For instance, here is her first single, ʽHey Foolʼ, credited to Jesse James and released on the small Donna label — a gritty blues-rocker with a scorching electric guitar solo played by God knows who, but with a fierce, piercing tone that reminds one of Freddie King (and, subsequently, early Yardbirds-era Clapton). The rhythm section is a bit wobbly, but guitar and vocals are impeccable. And the B-side is ʽEchoʼ, co-credited to Brenda and her sister Patrice — a slow, waltzing ballad this time, but with an imaginative gimmick as Brenda and Patrice bounce their "there's an echo... echo... echo..." off each other in a unique combination (they have slightly different ranges whose interference produces an almost psychedelic effect). Both these songs are better than just about anything on her Motown debut, bar the big hit single, of course.

Several of the songs are exciting and hilarious duets with male singers: on ʽI Never Knew You Looked So Good Until I Quit Youʼ and ʽGonna Make You Mineʼ, she is downright nasty and raunchy, roughing up her vocal cords while Jess Harris is playing the part of the dumb, but weirdly seductive, baritone — and on ʽI Want A Boyfriendʼ, recorded with Robert Jackson, they put a sharp echo effect on her already hysterical "I want a, I want a, I want a boyfriend!" intro that is guaranteed to glue your attention: there was not a single song in her Motown catalog where she would sound that fiery and insistent. And in each and every one of these vocal battles, she always makes it clear who's on top and who's really in the background.

One has to be careful, though, because not every one of these tracks has Brenda as lead vocalist: for instance, the one single included here under the name of ʽThe Four J'sʼ (appropriately recor­ded for the 4J label) features two other ladies, while Holloway is dismissed to the position of background singer; and the joke number ʽDo The Del Viking, Pt. 1ʼ was released under the name of Patricia Holloway, so I suppose that once again, Brenda is just singing backup here. But that's not a big problem, because, like I said, the collection works as a «wholistic» package — sort of «the early life and times of Brenda Holloway», a little bit of a working Odyssey as she goes through label after label, team after team, style after style, carefully building up an original pedi­gree that would eventually assure her a place in the big leagues (and not a very respectable place at that — this compilation definitely shows that she deserved a lot better).

Discussing the other songs would not be very helpful, because composition and arrangements are predictably not the strongest elements here: most of the chord sequences, lyrics, and sentiments are totally in line with the formulae of the day. And this is the mistake which most people who have reviewed this package seem to have made — for some reason, they tended to focus on the songs, when in reality you have to focus on the delivery of the songs, on the character behind the songs, and on the difference between this character and Brenda's subsequent Motown image. Just put on ʽI Never Knew You Looked So Goodʼ and then go listen to some of her Motown dirges, and it's like two different singers, and it's, like, a transition that took place in between when she was fifteen years of age and seventeen years of age. Reason enough to be at least slightly amazed, not to mention seriously amused, and to issue a surefire thumbs up and a strong recommendation, provided the package is still circulating somewhere out there.

Brenda Holloway: The Artistry Of Brenda Holloway

BRENDA HOLLOWAY: THE ARTISTRY OF BRENDA HOLLOWAY (1968)

1) Together 'Til The End Of Time; 2) Every Little Bit Hurts; 3) Where Were You; 4) I've Got To Find It; 5) Un­chained Melody; 6) Hurt A Little Every Day; 7) I'll Be Available; 8) You've Made Me So Very Happy; 9) I've Been Good To You; 10) Too Proud To Cry; 11) I'll Always Love You; 12) Operator; 13) When I'm Gone; 14) You Can Cry On My Shoulder; 15) Just Look What You've Done; 16) Starting The Hurt All Over Again; 17*) Mr Lifeguard (Come And Rescue Me); 18*) My Smile Is Just A Frown Turned Upside Down; 19*) After All That You've Done; 20*) The Love Line; 21*) Can't We Be Strangers Again; 22*) Just Another Lonely Night; 23*) Where There's A Will There's A Way; 24*) It's Love I Need.

As I said, Brenda Holloway's discography is so messy and confused that you will find quite a few sources repeating that The Artistry Of Brenda Holloway was her second and last «regular» LP on the Motown label. That is, however, only true to a certain degree. First, it seems to have had a very limited release — restricted to the UK, for some reason (apparently, somebody calculated that Brenda Holloway was more popular among the British; might that have anything to do with young Stevie Winwood covering ʽEvery Little Bit Hurtsʼ?). Second, in reality it was a compila­tion — singles, B-sides, album tracks, some stuff from the shelved Hurtin' And Cryin', and just three or four songs from the vaults. Not much to write home about.

Now, fourty-five years later, the album unexpectedly gets remembered and re-released by Ace Records — with a whoppin' eight bonus tracks, also culled from the vaults and unavailable else­where, not even on the comprehensive 2-CD Motown Anthology from 2005. Any reason to be interested? Yes. For serious lovers of Motown, these extra tracks, combined with whatever news might be culled from the original album, will be a bit of a blessing. Why the label never cared about releasing or promoting this music in the Sixties is a big question mark — many of these songs are just as good as any brand of lush pop that they were peddling back then. Just one more of these silly «personal conflict issues», I guess, as history tells us.

Anyway, here are some highlights. First, the original album. In addition to the good stuff that was already mentioned in the previous two reviews, we have ʽWhere Were Youʼ, an upbeat, Supre­mes-style single with ecstatic strings, triumphant brass, handclaps, angelic backing vocals, and a party atmosphere that contrasts nicely with the usual lost-love lyrics. Even more fun are the two extra Smokey Robinson tracks — ʽOperatorʼ, where Brenda once again beats Mary Wells in terms of depth and subtlety; and ʽI'll Be Availableʼ, which is just super-catchy-friendly — you know, one of those tunes that should have been covered by the Beatles on the BBC sessions. "When the U.S. mail is no longer mailable, I'll be available" gets me every time.

Two more dang fine Smokey compositions are among the bonuses — ʽMy Smile Is Just A Frown Turned Upside Downʼ, known as a hit for Carolyn Crawford, is also done much more expressive­ly by Brenda, in fact, Smokey's «weeping» ballads are the perfect vehicle for Ms. «Hurtin'-and-Cryin'» to ride altogether; and ʽAfter All That You've Doneʼ, once again more upbeat and playful, castigates the lady's unfaithful friend in a bittersweet manner — finger-poppin', funky bassline, sly vocal hooks ("you had a girl over here, a girl over there"), the works. She also does a good job with Billy Eckstine's ʽLove Lineʼ, and fires all her cannons on ʽIt's Love I Needʼ, although, to be frank, «hystrionic» vocal delivery is not her strongest area — she could compete with Mary Wells in expressiveness, or she could offer an «aristocratic» alternative to the rowdiness of Martha Reeves and the seductive squeakiness of Diana Ross, but when it comes to wailing and howling and bellowing, she was no Aretha.

Anyway, while once again this is an odd, ragged release that should probably best be left without any «rating» as such, it is definitely a good thing that the vaults are being cleaned up this way — it does baffle the mind, though, just how many perfectly commercial and perfectly artistically attractive little nuggets Motown had Brenda record for them in the Sixties, only to let them gather shelf dust for decades. My only complaint is that there's way too much overlap with Motown Anthology — most people will probably go for just one or the other. Then again, these days it is becoming obsolete to think even in terms of «compilations», much less cohesive LPs, and the way they treated Brenda, she'd be like the perfect number one candidate to promote futuristic services like Spotify. Just hunt down the songs anyway.

Brenda Holloway: Hurtin' And Cryin'

BRENDA HOLLOWAY: HURTIN' AND CRYIN' (1967?)

1) When I'm Gone; 2) Just Look What You've Done; 3) You've Made Me So Very Happy; 4) I Don't Want Nobody's Gonna Make Me Cry; 5) Till Johnny Comes; 6) Hurt A Little Everyday; 7) Starting The Hurt All Over; 8) You Can Cry On My Shoulder; 9) A World Without You; 10) I'll Be Alright; 11) Everybody Knows; 12) Make Him Come To You.

Frankly speaking, Brenda Holloway's discography becomes a nightmare immediately after her first album. She was found to be less cooperative at Motown than her chief female competitors, beginning with Mary Wells and ending with the Supremes, and largely spent the next three or four years in their shadow, occasionally releasing singles, sometimes even minor hit ones, but as far as I can understand, not a single «original» LP by Brenda Holloway ever appeared on the la­bel. You will occasionally find two additional entries in the discographies, but both are deceptive: Hurtin' And Cryin' was (or, rather, «may have been», as I have learned not to trust anything in this business) an LP that was recorded, assembled, and then indefinitely shelved by the label, and The Artistry Of Brenda Holloway, released in 1968, was actually a UK-only compilation that included a bit of everything, from old singles to some newer, then-unreleased material.

Turning first to Hurtin' And Cryin', we find that the album was supposedly released — even­tually — as part of the sprawling, well put together Motown Anthology, a 2-CD collection from 2005 that seems to claim to contain everything that Brenda recorded for the label. That does not quite solve the enigma, though, because sources vary tremendously on when the album was origi­nally scheduled for release. I have found conflicting reports that said «rejected in 1964» (too early, it seems), «rejected in 1968» (too late, I'd say) and «rejected in 1967», which sounds just about right, but then the track list also includes ʽYou've Made Me So Very Happyʼ, a single which, to the best of my knowledge, did not come out until 1968. Clearly, a little confusion is in order here. This is what happens to underdogs, you know.

Anyway, regardless of technicalities, had it been given proper birth, Hurtin' And Cryin' would have been a large improvement over Brenda's debut. This time, the tracks are grouped around not just one hit single, but three hit singles — and none of them sound like each other, or like one more bunch of inferior rewrites of ʽEvery Little Bit Hurtsʼ! ʽWhen I'm Goneʼ, a song that Mo­town reassigned to Brenda from Mary Wells just as the latter made her exit from the label, shows that the lady can do sexy irony and sarcasm just as fine as she does loss and tragedy; besides, Brenda's version is far more loud, bombastic, and all-over-the-place than Mary's original, belying her «subtly sensitive» image and showing how thunderstormy she can be when put to the task. Then there's ʽJust Look What You've Doneʼ, where the rhythm and brass section put the melody into gallop mode — a far cry from the snail paces of 1964 — and although Holloway certainly pales in this respect compared to either Diana Ross' squeaky sexiness or Martha Reeves' street brawniness, she does not let the song down.

As to ʽYou've Made Me So Very Happyʼ, this song was actually written by Brenda herself, in collaboration with her sister Patrice and songwriter Frank Wilson — then, at the last moment, Berry Gordy Jr. himself, understanding they had a hit on their hands, «changed a few notes» as they say and became co-author of the tune. Later on, it made them all a ton of dough when the song became a major hit for Blood, Sweat & Tears — but I actually like the original better, or, at least, I do not think that BS&T, aside from smothering it in horns, managed to uncover some sort of hidden meaning that was not already revealed in Brenda's own performance. And who do you really think makes the tune more justice, David Clayton-Thomas or one of Motown's most legen­dary (if underrated) vocalists? It's actually quite joyful to hear Brenda take her mind off negative emotions for a while and sing a happy song for a change, and she does it with style; gotta love her «cloudy vibrato» in the chorus.

The other nine songs are mostly filler, sure enough, but since she was actually trying to expand in several subdirections of R&B, it is nowhere near as monotonous as on the 1964 album. There are a few more slow tempo «hurting songs» (ʽHurt A Little Everydayʼ, ʽEverybody Knowsʼ), but there's also a pretty effective «consolation song» (ʽYou Can Cry On My Shoulderʼ, with a heart-tugging couple of Roy Orbison-worthy chord changes in the chorus) and a few more of these rousing gallops, sometimes titled quite deceptively — ʽStarting The Hurt All Over Againʼ is far more playful and aggressive than I'd dare to derive from that name. At the very least, the way these tracks are sequenced never conveys the impression that we are only watching a mediocre artist and a bunch of obliging record executives fill up empty vinyl space.

On the whole, I'd like to give the record a thumbs up, but I am not even sure if it really ever existed the way it is presented here — and you'll never find it anyway except as an integral part of Motown Anthology. But it is logistically useful to keep it as a separate building block in Bren­da's discography, if only to stress that there was life after ʽEvery Little Bit Hurtsʼ, and not even just life, but actual evolution and development. At the very least, let this review be my little contri­bution towards the «International Movement To Declare Brenda Holloway Not A One-Hit Wonder, But A Two-Hit Wonder» and the «International Movement To Demote Blood, Sweat & Tears And Promote Brenda Holloway In The Name Of Justice, Equality, And Awesome Critical Ratings».

Brenda Holloway: Every Little Bit Hurts

BRENDA HOLLOWAY: EVERY LITTLE BIT HURTS (1964)

1) I've Been Good To You; 2) Sad Song; 3) Every Little Bit Hurts; 4) Too Proud To Cry; 5) Who's Loving You; 6) Land Of A Thousand Boys; 7) Suddenly; 8) Embraceable You; 9) Unchained Melody; 10) A Favor For A Girl (With A Love Sick Heart); 11) (You Can) Depend On Me; 12) Can I.

As much as this «torch ballad» style is generally not my cup of musical tea at all, I cannot deny that ʽEvery Little Bit Hurtsʼ is a great song, and that even with all these other versions around, nobody has done it more justice than its original performance. This Motown recording from 1964 was actually her second recorded version — the original was produced two years earlier for Del-Fi Records — but apparently the people at Motown, having just signed their first West Coast artist, knew what they were doing, and made Brenda re-do the tune with higher production values and, naturally, with a stronger promotion agenda.

Her own gift is in understanding that the song works primarily as an «aria», and depends crucially on mood interchange — the way it bounces back and forth from tragic weeping to determined screaming, breaking down, picking up, breaking down again, with unbelievably authentic dyna­mic tension: the bridge section, with its punchy, almost threatening "come back to me, darling you'll see..." beginning and then smoothly, fluently morphing into pleading — "I can give you all the things that you wanted before" still starting out determined and proud, but descending into submission and pleading tenderness by the time it's over. No wonder that Steve Winwood and a host of other performers were so enthralled: this is one hell of a vocal delivery, a three-minute spectacle of emotional bliss the likes of which are pretty dang hard to find in the rest of Motown's catalog — certainly not off the top of my head.

The downside of this, however, becomes obvious as we listen to the rest of Brenda's debut LP for the label — and realize that, in a more-than-stupid attempt to capitalize on the brilliance of the title track, Motown made her record eleven more songs that all sound the same. Okay, ten: ʽA Favor For A Girl (With A Love Sick Heart)ʼ is taken at a sprightlier tempo and groomed to sound a little more sly, sexy, and seductive, much in line with the leading brand of Smokey Robinson and The Miracles' style (although, ironically, although Smokey did contribute some songs for this album, ʽA Favor For A Girlʼ is credited to producer Clarence Paul instead).

Everything else, though, shares the same tempo, the same tragic-love mood, and even more or less the same basic chord progression as ʽEvery Little Bit Hurtsʼ. Everything! Ten completely interchangeable songs that all try to be ʽEvery Little Bit Hurtsʼ — and all fail, because none of these writers, intentionally striving to write something exactly like Ed Cobb's masterpiece, arrive at matching the original's perfect flow. The only good thing about them all is that Ms. Holloway honestly tries her best to make them come alive — and she did have one of Motown's best female voices: deeper and more «mature» than the average chirp of their teenage starlets (not that Brenda wasn't in her teens herself, but she sounded far more grown-up than anybody), capable of all sorts of modulation, combining «clean» tenderness with «raspy» excitement or irony within the same verse or chorus like a perfect natural.

The songs, alas, have about as much interesting going on about them here as does your average Celine Dion record — the only difference being that the generic Motown sound is always prefe­rable to the generic Celine Dion Columbia sound — but that is not really Brenda's fault: in 1964, she was nobody's top priority, and Motown's resident songwriters simply fed her with scraps and leftovers (besides, just how many great LPs did Motown artists record anyway in 1964, when the LP was a strictly hardcore-fan-oriented artefact?).

Basically, it all boils down to this: if you really happen to madly fall in love with the voice and the personality behind the voice, do track this album down (as far as I know, it was never issued on CD by itself, but all the songs have been included on the 2-CD Motown Anthology). If you value the song much more than the voice, though, and especially if you think the Spencer Davis Group with Stevie Winwood is better or something like that, you will be perfectly fine just owning the track on any reasonable sampler of Motown's greatness. As the future would show, there would be much more (well, not much, but maybe a little more — as much as the powers-that-be would mercifully allocate) to Brenda Holloway than ʽEvery Little Bit Hurtsʼ, but if you were to judge the artist on the strength of this one album, «fluke» and «one-hit wonder» would be the most appropriate associations.