Post by Jonel on Jan 7, 2003 22:53:23 GMT -5
Witness the explosion of boy-band acts out of Orlando ("O-Town") or the emergence of extensively choreographed starlets such as Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera --- all emulating the assembly-line efficiency of Motown's heyday, all suburban white kids striving to be as black as possible, and all now experiencing the predictable identity crises that beset the likes of Michael Jackson (though hopefully they'll keep the plastic surgery to a minimum).
Gerald Posner's careful, attentive and remarkably pithy history of Motown's rise and fall makes far less of the social and critical issues his book inevitably raises than music-savvy readers might want. A writer who turns most often to heftier topics such as the Third Reich or the assassinations of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and JFK, Posner is the antithesis of the cerebral, ax-grinding rock critic. He is given neither to theoretical ramblings nor post-adolescent hyperbole. He reports.
But he reports so thoroughly, even as he admits that his firsthand access to many subjects was frustratingly limited, that the sheer facts themselves become as fascinating as any deeper themes Posner might have extrapolated from his research.
Much is made of Gordy's megalomania, his romantic obsession with Diana Ross, his gambling addiction and his draconian business practices, which put even his greatest artists in a state of indentured servitude (though, in some cases, servitude in the most gilded of cages). Drug casualties and professional jealousies are meticulously charted, illicit affairs and shameful backstabbings equally so.
The heartrending stuff is often contrasted with funny, dishy anecdotes, such as Gaye's refusal to quit smoking pot in the studio with "Call Me Miss" Ross, then pregnant with a child that would turn out to be Gordy's. Or the reason the inaugural sweep of Great Britain was dubbed "the Ghost Tour" (poor lighting rendered their newspaper photos washed-out, but Motowners back home thought it was because the English photographers had too little experience photographing black people).
Equally funny is Beatle George Harrison's assessment of the Supremes: "We couldn't believe that three black girls from Detroit could be so square!"
There's a good deal more than that to cull from "Motown," which may finally be of more interest to those keen on untangling the dark secrets of the music business than deciphering the artistic forces that it steers (and sometimes thwarts). Posner's focus on Gordy, around whom the book's narrative rotates, is logical, but might have been better balanced by elevating a few other players to greater prominence.
He might also have invested more enthusiasm in actively describing what ended up on those classic singles, whose chart-topping status earned Motown's offices the name of Hitsville U.S.A.
As with so many American enterprises, possessed of smarts and verve, soul gives way to the ringing of the cash register. The only authenticity left is what's on wax, which, as we all know, is far too perishable.
Steve Dollar, a former music critic for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, lives in Brooklyn. N.Y. He's writing "Jazz Guide: New York City" for the Little Bookroom Press.
ON THE WEB: To read the first chapter, go to ajc.com/living/books. TEXT
© 2003 The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Gerald Posner's careful, attentive and remarkably pithy history of Motown's rise and fall makes far less of the social and critical issues his book inevitably raises than music-savvy readers might want. A writer who turns most often to heftier topics such as the Third Reich or the assassinations of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and JFK, Posner is the antithesis of the cerebral, ax-grinding rock critic. He is given neither to theoretical ramblings nor post-adolescent hyperbole. He reports.
But he reports so thoroughly, even as he admits that his firsthand access to many subjects was frustratingly limited, that the sheer facts themselves become as fascinating as any deeper themes Posner might have extrapolated from his research.
Much is made of Gordy's megalomania, his romantic obsession with Diana Ross, his gambling addiction and his draconian business practices, which put even his greatest artists in a state of indentured servitude (though, in some cases, servitude in the most gilded of cages). Drug casualties and professional jealousies are meticulously charted, illicit affairs and shameful backstabbings equally so.
The heartrending stuff is often contrasted with funny, dishy anecdotes, such as Gaye's refusal to quit smoking pot in the studio with "Call Me Miss" Ross, then pregnant with a child that would turn out to be Gordy's. Or the reason the inaugural sweep of Great Britain was dubbed "the Ghost Tour" (poor lighting rendered their newspaper photos washed-out, but Motowners back home thought it was because the English photographers had too little experience photographing black people).
Equally funny is Beatle George Harrison's assessment of the Supremes: "We couldn't believe that three black girls from Detroit could be so square!"
There's a good deal more than that to cull from "Motown," which may finally be of more interest to those keen on untangling the dark secrets of the music business than deciphering the artistic forces that it steers (and sometimes thwarts). Posner's focus on Gordy, around whom the book's narrative rotates, is logical, but might have been better balanced by elevating a few other players to greater prominence.
He might also have invested more enthusiasm in actively describing what ended up on those classic singles, whose chart-topping status earned Motown's offices the name of Hitsville U.S.A.
As with so many American enterprises, possessed of smarts and verve, soul gives way to the ringing of the cash register. The only authenticity left is what's on wax, which, as we all know, is far too perishable.
Steve Dollar, a former music critic for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, lives in Brooklyn. N.Y. He's writing "Jazz Guide: New York City" for the Little Bookroom Press.
ON THE WEB: To read the first chapter, go to ajc.com/living/books. TEXT
© 2003 The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
rather busy the last few days working on another project and haven't given it my full attention, though I love to read and will be doing so shortly.
