Done: You Haven’t Done Nothin’

Stevie Wonder: You Haven’t Done Nothin’ [purchase] 

I’m still trying to wrap my head around this theme—“Done” would have made sense to me at the end of 2021, although the year-end here at SMM is filled with traditional themes, like our post-Thanksgiving “Leftovers,” some holiday-related theme(s) around Christmas, and the post-Christmas “In Memoriam.” So, if we had kicked off 2022 with “Beginning,” which we did in 2016, or “Fresh Starts” (2012), I’d get it. But maybe I protest too much, since our first theme of 2021 was “Over,” but I think that tied into the end of the Trump Error, and not the end of the also crappy 2020. 

Anyway, even though, so far, there’s no evidence that 2022 is going to improve on 2021 in any way, my choice of song for this theme is unrelated to the definition of “Done” as an adjective meaning “over,” but rather in its role as the past participle of the verb “do.” (Yes, we here at SMM are grammar nerds). And after the somewhat disappointing view totals of my In Memoriam piece about Larry Harlow, not exactly a household name outside of the Harlow household (and, of course, the salsa world, which doesn’t appear to overlap too much with our readership), I’m going to write about a big hit for a massively famous musician, Stevie Wonder’s “You Haven’t Done Nothin’” which was a No. 1 pop and soul hit for Wonder.

I’ve probably mentioned more than a few times here (and maybe at some of my other blogging homes) that one of the joys of writing these pieces is that I often learn things about the song or artist that I didn’t know, and that’s what happened here. “You Haven’t Done Nothin’” was released as a single in 1974, and I probably heard hundreds of times over the years. But what I did not know, until I began researching this piece, was that it was directed at Richard Nixon, who resigned two weeks after the album it was on, Fulfillingness’ First Finale, was released, and one day after the single was released. Thanks for making that happen, Stevie. (I still remember the joy that my 13-year-old self felt when I heard, while working as a junior day camp counselor, that Nixon had decided to step down, which is maybe why this is my second Watergate related post in recent weeks.) 

I also didn’t know that the background vocals on the song were sung by the Jackson 5—despite the fact that Wonder literally sings “Jackson 5 join along with me” during the song. Or that all of the instruments on the song (other than bass) were played by Wonder, including the horn parts on synthesizer. 

Wonder is, of course, amazing, which was brought home to me this summer when, during that brief period when we thought COVID was on the ropes, my wife and I went to an actual movie theater to see the brilliant documentary, Summer of Soul, about the mostly forgotten Harlem Cultural Festival that took place in 1969, featuring an incredible roster of talent. Questlove, the director, made the decision to open the film with 19-year-old Stevie Wonder playing an amazing drum solo (!). You can see a bit of it (and hear a little more of it) in this trailer for the film (it’s on Hulu, and you really should just see the whole film because it is mind-blowing)



I also found this interesting essay from the Arkansas Democrat Gazette that discusses Wonder’s performance, including speculation as to why Wonder chose to include the drum solo in a cover of the Isley Brothers’ “It’s Your Thing,” which was considered to be a “kiss-off” to Motown Records, Wonder’s label, and it’s a worthwhile read.

Fast: Fast Car

Tracy Chapman: Fast Car
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This is my third piece in a row focusing on a Black woman. I’m not sure why, but I realized the other day that my wife and I have, over the past few months, watched five movies/TV shows (it is hard to tell the difference these days) about legendary Black women singers—Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, Aretha, The United States Against Billie Holliday, Tina, and Mahalia. (Plus One Night in Miami, in which one of the main characters is a Black male singer). How much of the fact that so many fine films featuring mostly Black casts is a result of the agitation about the whiteness of the Oscars? And how much did the fallout from the George Floyd killing, and the other killings of Black Americans over the past year, convince studios to release, and people like me to watch, films like this? 

So, once again, I’ve forced potential readers to wade through a paragraph that is, basically, unrelated to the song I’ve chosen to discuss. Maybe that’s why I write these things for fun and not money (not that anyone’s offering), because it allows me to go off on tangents. Like I just did there, again. 

But let’s get to the meat of the topic. Tracy Chapman’s 1988 song “Fast Car,” from her self-titled debut album is an amazing song on so many levels. It is so good, in fact, that one writer declared that it “essentially revived the singer-songwriter movement.” I’m not sure I’d go that far, but it didn’t hurt—and the fact that Chapman was Black, which was unusual in a genre that had become pretty white by that point, was another reason that the song was noticed. 

The song also has a great “discovery” story. Shortly after her debut album was released, Chapman was part of a megastar-studded bill for the Nelson Mandela Birthday Concert in 1988 at Wembley Stadium. She had completed a three-song set and cleverly stuck around. When Stevie Wonder went to perform, he discovered that the hard disk for his Synclavier was missing, and he walked off the stage in tears (he did, eventually, return using borrowed equipment). Chapman was asked to go again, and she agreed, doing two songs, including “Fast Car.” It went over big. 

But the real reason that the song became a hit (No. 6 on the Billboard Hot 100), and got a Grammy for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance (and another for Chapman as Best New Artist and the album for Best Contemporary Folk Album) and MTV Video Music Award nominations, is that it is an incredible piece of songwriting, delivered brilliantly by Chapman in her rich contralto voice. 

“Fast Car” is, however, a pretty depressing song. The first stanza describes the singer’s desperation: 

You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Any place is better
Starting from zero, got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
Me, myself, I got nothing to prove 

We learn why she wants out in the next few stanzas—she’s working at a convenience store, had to drop out of school to care for her alcoholic father after her mother left him. But it’s not only the car—it’s the owner, who when they drove, made her feel like she belonged and could be someone. It’s a dream that dies all too quickly—she works, he stays out late, drinks and ignores their kids—and she sees no future. And in the last stanza, she lays it out: 

You got a fast car
Is it fast enough so you can fly away?
You gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way 

Anybody want to wager on whether or not they left?

Mr/Ms: He's Misstra Know-It-All

 

purchase [ Misstra Know It All ]

Is "misstra" a variation on Mr.? - and thus a viable choice for this theme?

The word <misstra> is pretty much undocumented. The intranet provides clues but no real answer:  It appears that Wonder was referencing Nixon (he could as well have been referencing our ex. )

THE internet also tells us that <Misstrah> is likely not "kind" - possibly a mix of "massah" and mister?

"Playin'  hard, talkin; fast ... He's the coolest one with the biggest mouth...and "if we had less of him, don't you know we'd have a better land .."

I guess I've tipped my hand (who plays hard and fast with a big mouth?)

But ... you are here for the music. And so ... Innervisions.

Innervisons, in that Wonder can only see inside? Innervisions, in that we should all be so gifted to see so much inside. Innervisions, in that something awoke inside Stevie Wonder that moved him for the formulaic Motown that I witnessed on stage in Seattle in 1969 as "Little Stevie Wonder". (Admittedly valuable for its time and space) to the post-Innervisions that produced this and his later work.

There are actually several points in the song where Stevie Wonder progressivly amps it up; you can hear the background vocals doing an increasingly urgent "yeah ..yeah" early on, but at about 2:30 we get a major shift that builds to that  point in the song [3:00]  where Stevie Wonder very meaningfully switches/ramps up the tempo to emphasize his point. The tempo seems to jump - and at least the emotion jumps - as we hear the hand claps and "growls" that signal a message change-

Finally he says: "You talk too much, you worry me to death .." Point well made - please, let's move on.

Chuck Schumer's playlist [100 days of tr**] on Spotify includes this song for some reason  (no the reason is clear, me thinks)

link

and ... James Morrison

Aliens: Saturn/Stevie Wonder

purchase [Songs in the Key of Life]

A last minute entry as we switch themes - on the assumption that any post is better than no post.

Songs in the Key of Life vies with Talking Book as my favorite Stevie Wonder album. Saturn is one of its least known songs.

The 1970s, when the album came out, were full of dreams of the opportunities that space presented us Earthlings: working forward from the 70s, we had Skylab and Mir and then the current ISS. In the 70s, NASA still had a fair amount of PR mojo - hype and hope for humans in space. It was hard not to be influenced by the vast possibilities open to us. Today we have Elon Musk and his cohorts.

The 70s mark a point in Wonder's career where he both changed management and musical style. Gone was the [limiting/limited] image of the somewhat coddled boy-wonder: here was a man in tune. Actually,  a man leading a musical revolution. Talking Book matches chronologically with Exile on Main Street, Thick As A Brick, Close to the Edge, Ziggy Stardust, Eat a Peach, Can't Buy a Thrill - just to give you some perspective.

Listen and ponder.

Football/Soccer: Another Star

Stevie Wonder: Another Star
[purchase]

There are songs specifically written with the World Cup in mind and there are others that get co-opted to the purpose. Ricky Martin's La Copa de la Vida comes to mind as one of the more successful: you didnt have to be a football fan to notice the commercial success of the song.

Curiously, it took the US women's team - and Mia Hamm - back in 1996, to light the fire for soccer in the US. Sure ... there were other sparks: Pele and his backers tried hard. Beckham, too. But even today, soccer/football in the US of A - in terms that really matter (salaries, revenue, viewers...)  falls pitifully below other more American sports.

There are "official" songs for each World Cup, and then there are other songs that are "un-official".. Whereas Pitbull/Jenifer Lopez's "Ole Ola" and Shakira's "La La La" are considered to be official this year, the BBC has chosen this year to go with Stevie Wonder's "Another Star". Why so?

Folks who edit video are well aware of the effect that a sound track has over the video: even a sloppy visual sequence can turn into decent "film" through the judicious use of appropriate audio, and that appears to have been the Beeb's  ... er ... goal. There isn't much in the lyrics to suggest its application to a World Cup theme song (unless you accept the starting "la la la ..." as a tribute to the official Shakira song? Or perhaps the notion that "no other love" is a football fanatic's state of mind? Again, the audio overlaid to the video and the simple fact that this clip provides a history of sorts of the "Cup" are reason enough for me to start us off with this clip on the next 2-week theme in honor of the 2014 World Cup.

Work: We Can Work It Out

Stevie Wonder: We Can Work It Out
[Purchase link]

This selection is a little off the original train of thought for our new theme: work. Still, my choice complies with the theme in that it includes the word <work> in the title.

Whereas I had initially thought this week’s theme would provoke musical ideas about employment, I found myself thinking repeatedly about the Beatles' "We can Work It Out".

By 1965, when Rubber Soul came out, the Beatles:

• Were an established hit band
• Had been to the US on tour
• Appear to have been inclined to alternative sounds (their India contacts start at about this time and I think you can sense it in Rubber Soul)

Two years ago, I was lucky to catch the initial round of “The Beatles Complete on Ukulele”, when Roger Greenawalt and crew were giving away their collection for free (it is still a free listen but no longer a free download). The Beatles' Rubber Soul album is one of my all-time favorite albums. It's an album that contains several personal preferences and seems to me to mark a turning point in pop music (what else was “hot” in ’65?)

There are YouTube versions of the original masters doing their thing: Lennon tickling a (more orless) pre-electric organ in one. But the version that I chose here carries so much more value to me. Without making my voting preferences too blatantly obvious (among the available options, of course), there are several things that caught my attention here:

Mr Obama (and even more so Mrs O) are clearly groovin' on the sounds (with Paul sitting right next to POTUS). More importantly, there is the underlying message that fits with Obama’s message of Hope : We can "work it out.” Throughout this version, I get the feeling that the timing isn’t quite right – but it works out all the same.

All That Jazz: Sir Duke

Stevie Wonder: Sir Duke

[purchase]

Those of us living in and around Washington, D.C., have many reminders that this is Duke Ellington's home town. There's a Duke Ellington Bridge, leading into the hipster Adams Morgan area. The Duke Ellington School for Arts serves as the city's performing arts high school. Until recently, D.C.'s premiere jazz festival bore Ellington's name. Venues like the Lincoln Theater and the Bohemian Caverns boast "Duke Ellington played here" credentials. A larger-than-life mural of Ellington looks out onto the Shaw neighborhood. Ellington even appears on the back of D.C.'s "state" quarter, issued in 2009 (making him the first African-American honored by name on U.S. money).

Yet one of the most enduring tributes to Ellington isn't found in the city in which he was born. It's in the grooves of a hit record by Stevie Wonder, "Sir Duke." Released in 1977, three years after Ellington's death, the song became one of Wonder's biggest chart successes. Besides mentioning Ellington, "Sir Duke" also name checks Count Basie, Louis Armstrong ("Satchmo"), Ella Fitzgerald and Glenn Miller. The sound of "Sir Duke" doesn't necessarily remind you of Ellington; indeed, the horns that dominate the arrangement are reminiscent of Miller's stylings. But, it's clear from the song's title and the lyrics that Wonder considers Ellington to be "the king of all." "I knew the title from the beginning," Wonder said of the song, during a Billboard symposium in 1977. "[I] wanted it to be about musicians who did something for us. So soon they are forgotten." Wonder said he just wanted to show his appreciation -- and, well, you can feel it all over.

Other People's Songs: It's A Shame

The Spinners: It's a Shame

[purchase]


Some week's theme's are pretty binary, and a song pretty clearly falls in or out of the box – songs from 1991, songs beginning with "you", songs with handclaps. This week is a little more challenging and the box has very fuzzy boundaries, so I'm playing it safe. Stevie Wonder, Syreeta Wright and Lee Garrett, all three artists in their own right, co-wrote and produced this song for label-mates the Spinners. After seven years plugging away for Berry Gordy's Motown label, the Spinners finally had their biggest hit to date. Two years later, they switched to Atlantic records, and producer/songwriter Thom Bell (remember him from the Delfonics post?) helped them achieve a string of 70's R&B/soul hits.

You First: You Are The Sunshine Of My Life

Stevie Wonder: You Are The Sunshine Of My Life

[purchase]

There are three compelling reasons to post this song:

1. It was a number 1 hit, on both the Billboard Hot 100 and the adult contemporary charts.

2. It won a Grammy for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance.

3. It comes from one of Stevie Wonder's most productive periods of his career. The song is from 1972's "Talking Book'. By the way, those two vocals in the beginning are by James Gilstrap and Lani Groves, something I just learned today.

Imma shut up and let Stevie do the rest.

Summertime: Woodstock

Summertime is music festival season. It’s one of the first things I think of when I think of summer. So, the week must not go by without this song, Joni Mitchell’s tribute to the greatest music festival of them all. I was much too young to attend, but I could feel Woodstock’s effects in my house. My oldest brother was 14, and he was determined to go. But my parents had their way, and he stayed home. For four years after, he would remind them of this horrible thing they had done to him. Finally, in 1973, they let him go to Watkins Glen as an apology. It wasn’t the same, but it finally ended the subject in my house.

It seems that every few years there is a reassessment of what the Woodstock festival meant. This also happens to the song. As you will hear, the song can be done in a variety of styles, and it works. If you think about the stylistic variety of the artists who played at Woodstock, this makes perfect sense.

Credit Where Due Department: Susan and I often trade e-mails when either of us has an idea for a post involving Joni Mitchell. In this case, I had the original idea, but Susan provided the songs and the (non)- release information for the Stevie Wonder track, so this post is actually a collaborative effort. Thank you, Susan. I put it into its present form, so any mistakes are mine alone.

Star Maker Note: This week sort of accidentally became cover songs week. However, the last day will be devoted to original songs. This post, which has both, is our transition to All Originals Saturday.

Joni Mitchell: Woodstock

[purchase]

Of course, Joni Mitchell wrote Woodstock, and this is her original recording of it. The song is a beautiful ballad, with just Joni singing and playing the electric piano. It sound like nothing else Mitchell had done at the time, and there is no rhythm part. The song just floats, emphasizing its wistful qualities.

Crosby Stills Nash and Young: Woodstock

[purchase]

Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young got hold of the song, and completely transformed it. In their hands, it became a rock anthem, and a huge hit. For the longest time, I thought that they wrote it, and I was shocked at how Joni Mitchell had “ruined” it, when I first heard the version above. Live and learn.

Stevie Wonder: Woodstock

[Never officially released]

Joni Mitchell would record Woodstock again for her live album, Miles of Aisles. This time, she rearranged it for a full band. Stevie Wonder zeroed in on the bass line in that version, and turned the song into a funk workout. This version was supposed to be released on a Joni Mitchell tribute album called A Case of Joni. Eventually, that album became A Tribute to Joni Mitchell. Different songs were added, and a number of songs, including this one, were dropped.

Eva Cassidy: Woodstock

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Eva Cassidy recorded the song for just voice and acoustic guitar, and Woodstock became a folk song. It works beautifully. If you knew a little about Joni Mitchell’s early sound, but had never heard her original, you might think that this is how it originally sounded.

Public Domain: Frankie and Johnny

Stevie Wonder: Frankie and Johnny

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Many public domain songs are thick in the broad waters of popular culture; others tend to one genre or another, depending on their ancestry. But Frankie and Johnny, which seems to have been inspired by any number of real 19th century murders, has murky origins, and its modern usage bears the stamp of the tabloids: pick an American genre - from country to folk, from jazz to swing, from stylized rock & roll to bar band blues - and you'll find a version or two. Mae West did it on broadway; Louis Armstrong and Dave Brubeck took their turn on the tune as a Jazz standard; Sam Cooke, Elvis, Lena Horne, Bob Dylan, and a hundred other names have all lent their credence to the sordid tale.

But though it's a straightforward ballad with fluid lyrics, open to interpretations from loving and wistful to gritty and raw, given its grisly and nuanced tale of love and death, it's much less usual to find it in the hands of babes. Here, on his no-hit 1962 tribute to the songs of Ray Charles, a startlingly young Stevie Wonder turns our expectations on their head, bringing upbeat innocence and funky Motown soul to a tune too often played out as weary and graveled. It almost works.

Retrospective: The Aristocrats

Neil Young: Old King
[purchase]

Taj Mahal and Toumani Diabate: Queen Bee
[purchase]

The Kinks: She's Bought a Hat Like Princess Marina
[purchase]

Stevie Wonder: Sir Duke
[purchase]


I've mentioned numerous times here that I used to have an weekly web radio show, FiL With Sound. I played a mix of old and new music, and was fond of themed sets (and sometimes themed shows.) It ran for two years, and somewhere in the middle of it, I discovered Star Maker Machine.

I occasionally played songs on the show that I found on SMM, and it helped give the appearance that I had a bigger, more diverse music collection than I actually had. At some point, I decided I wanted to join in on the fun, but not being a writer, I started playing my own version of Star Maker Machine on the show. I would make a four- or five-track set out of songs that fit the previous week's SMM theme but had not been posted. I did some digging through my playlists, and discovered that the first time I did this was on November 18, 2008. The previous week's theme had been "The Aristocrats", so that's what my first SMM set was about.

The songs I picked to play that day were perhaps not the most adventurous of choices, but this was an important step in the journey that lead me to become a contributor here. And really, if there's a better song than "Sir Duke" out there, I've yet to hear it.

Baby Mine: Isn't She Lovely

Stevie Wonder: Isn't She Lovely

[purchase]


From 1976's Songs in the Key of Life, Isn't She Lovely was written by Stevie Wonder to celebrate the birth of his daughter, Aisha. In it, Stevie's exuberant joy is enough to bring a twinkle to the eye of the most crustiest of curmudgeons.

Interesting note - life came full circle as Aisha went on to sing a duet with her dad on his song, How Will I Know, from the 2005 release, A Time to Love.

The Sun: Blame It On The Sun

Stevie Wonder: Blame It On The Sun

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Blame It On The Sun comes from 1974's Talking Book album, which won Stevie Wonder three Grammys. Like Marvin Gaye right before him, many of Talking Book's songs contained stark lyrics that explored societal ills. But being Stevie, you know he's not going to give short thrift to his love songs, with tunes such as You Are the Sunshine of My Life, You've Got It Bad Girl, I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever) and today's selection - Blame It On The Sun.

Advice: Don't You Worry About A Thing

Stevie Wonder: Don't You Worry About A Thing

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A friend recommended Innervisions to me in about 1992. I bought it but couldn't get into it. I gave it another try a few years later, but still no luck. A few years after that I gave it another spin. There were a couple of stand out tunes, but still, nothing special. Then, finally three or four years ago, I got it!  It really is a pretty decent album.  I have no idea why it took me so long to warm up to it.

There are two great advice songs on this album. The first is Don't You Worry About A Thing, featured above. The second is:

Higher Ground

People keep on learnin'
Soldiers keep on warrin'
World keep on turnin'
Cause it wont be too long