Under the Motown covers

Was there ever a record company better at getting mileage out of its songs as Motown?

One artist would cut a song. Then it would be covered by another, and perhaps another, and perhaps still another. The hit version might not necessarily be the first version. That was Motown’s genius.

Hear, then, three examples of familiar Motown songs covered by other Motown artists. All three were written by the great Barrett Strong and the legendary producer Norman Whitfield.

“War,” the Temptations, from “Psychedelic Shack,” 1970. The LP is out of print but is available digitally.

This is the original version recorded in 1969, but Motown sat on it, preferring to not piss off the Temptations’ fans with such a political song. It was a No. 1 hit for Edwin Starr in 1970.

“I Heard It Through The Grapevine,” The Undisputed Truth,” from “The Undisputed Truth,” 1971. The LP is out of print. The song is apparently not available digitally. Too bad. This version cooks.

Smokey Robinson and the Miracles recorded the original version in 1966, but Motown owner Berry Gordy didn’t like it. It was a No. 2 hit for Gladys Knight and the Pips in 1967. Marvin Gaye also recorded it that year, but Motown didn’t release it as a single until 1968, when DJs started playing it off the “In The Groove” LP. It was a No. 1 hit.

“Smiling Faces Sometimes,” Rare Earth, from “Ma,” 1973.

The Temptations did the original version in 1971. The Undisputed Truth had a No. 3 hit with it later that year.

Rare Earth’s “Ma” also is featured over on our other blog, The Midnight Tracker, which delivers vintage vinyl one side at a time. Check it out.

Unearthed from deep in the office

You’d think winter in Wisconsin would be a good time to hole up in the office and rip vinyl like mad. But no. In the last five months, I’ve ripped exactly five LPs. Not exactly a breathtaking pace.

One of those records was one I’ve loved since getting it almost 40 years ago. Needing an album side for my other blog, The Midnight Tracker, I ripped Deep Purple’s “Who Do We Think We Are” a few weeks ago.

It was released in January 1973, during my sophomore year in high school. At that time, I didn’t have a lot of records, so I played it a lot. Though I hadn’t listened to it in years, I still knew almost every note and line when I ripped it.

In the latter part of 1972, a worn-out Deep Purple was hurled into studios in Rome and Frankfurt after a year and a half of touring. They slammed out this record, which has only seven cuts and wasn’t well regarded by the critics. “Woman From Tokyo” was the single, but this might be the best cut.

“Rat Bat Blue,” Deep Purple, from “Who Do We Think We Are,” 1973. (The buy link is to a remastered 2002 CD release with extra tracks. Two more versions of “Rat Bat Blue,” one from the writing sessions and a 1999 remix, are on that CD. It also is available digitally.)

Ritchie Blackmore’s chugging guitar licks drive this one, as you’d expect. That is, until the late, great Jon Lord wrests control halfway through with a gleefully mad prog organ solo. Then you have Ian Gillan’s classic rock-star vocals, sometimes snarled, sometimes screamed.

It all makes for a wonderful trip back in time.

Please visit our other blog, The Midnight Tracker, for more vintage vinyl, one side at a time.

My soul went through the ceiling

Well, somebody’s gotta put it out here in the blogosphere, even though no less than the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times have referenced it today.

“Dear Abby,” John Prine, from “Sweet Revenge,” 1973. Out of print but available digitally. Recorded live at the State University of New York in New Paltz, New York.

It’s a great song from a fine record, one I’ve had forever. This is as good a time as any to pull it out and listen to it again.

“Sweet Revenge” is one of those records from a time when I didn’t have many. I played each one over and over. All I need do is look at that blue-framed jacket and all those songs come rushing back.

So let’s enjoy one more from John Prine, the great Chicago folk singer.

“Please Don’t Bury Me,” also from “Sweet Revenge,” 1973. Also available digitally.

This is one of the songs I’d like played at my funeral, although I sure would like to see everyone’s reaction to that. (That’s the late, great Steve Goodman on acoustic guitar. He was Prine’s best friend, and he plays electric or acoustic guitar on most of the cuts on this record.)

My friend Pat Houlihan introduced me to John Prine in the mid-’70s. Pat was a good-natured hippie folk singer with long, curly hair. He played solo gigs on the tiny stage at The Office, an old neighborhood bar next to the downtown fire station in my hometown of Wausau, Wisconsin.

Now living in New Mexico and still performing, Pat recalls those nights at The Office as “some of my seminal solo gigs.” Those nights also were my first forays into live music in a club. Our tiny table full of beer glasses, we eagerly waited for the John Prine songs to turn up in Pat’s sets.

These John Prine songs.

Please visit our other blog, The Midnight Tracker, for more vintage vinyl, one side at a time.

Meanwhile, in an alternate universe

After Stevie Wonder hit it big with “Superstition” in 1972, it’s no wonder Jeff Beck was perhaps the first to cover it.

While working together in the studio for Wonder’s “Talking Book” album, on which Beck played guitar, Beck concocted the drum beat around which Wonder built the rest of “Superstition.” So Wonder offered the song to Beck.

However, Motown studio chief Berry Gordy thought Wonder ought to keep it for himself. So “Superstition,” by Stevie Wonder, was released by Motown in October 1972.

By that December, Beck was cutting that song in the studio with his new power trio, Beck, Bogert & Appice.

“Superstition,” Beck, Bogert & Appice, from “Beck, Bogert & Appice,” 1973. It’s out of print but is available digitally. When this LP came out, the “Superstition” cover was about the only thing many critics liked about it.

Dig this, too. Now that, friends, is a ’70s power trio.

Beck has played “Superstition” at his shows for years.

Here, he accompanies Wonder. This is from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 25th anniversary show at Madison Square Garden in New York in October 2009.

We now direct you to our other blog, The Midnight Tracker, for more early ’70s supergroupery from Beck, Bogert & Appice.

Bob Welch: Still got me hypnotized

It’s the same kind of story that seems to come down from long ago

The news of former Fleetwood Mac guitarist Bob Welch’s passing came on a gorgeously sunny day in our corner of Wisconsin. It’s not at all the kind of moment I associate with the song that introduced me to Bob Welch.

Because there’s no explaining

No, when I think of “Hypnotized,” I think of late nights, which is when I most often heard it in the early ’70s. Or I think of winter’s fog, a suitably eerie time for an ethereal and vaguely mysterious song.

What your imagination

The enduring power of “Hypnotized” was such that when I started buying vinyl LPs again a few years ago, a rough copy of “Mystery To Me” was one of the first records  I grabbed out of a dollar bin.

Can make you see and feel

I’m not sure I’ve ever figured out what the song was all about. Here’s one interpretation, suggested in the comments when we wrote about “Hypnotized” on that foggy winter’s night in March 2009. Something about Carlos Castaneda, peyote and dreams.

Seems like a dream

I hear Bob Welch’s song and I am taken right back to the deep quiet of those long-ago late nights, listening to the free-form FM radio, sorting through my teenage life and wondering what the future held.

Got me hypnotized

“Hypnotized,” Fleetwood Mac, from “Mystery To Me,” 1973.

Please visit our other blog, The Midnight Tracker, for more from Bob Welch and this album.