Brenda Holloway, "You've Made Me So Very Happy" c/w "I've Got To Find It," Tamla T-54155 (rel. 8/1967)
Brenda Holloway is a favorite of Motown fanatics. That admiration didn't translate to hits on the order of label-mates The Surpremes, Martha & The Vandellas or The Temptations. Two of Brenda's Tamla singles got into the Top 30; the rest foundered in the bottom half of the national Hot 100 (or bubbled under).
The gifted vocalist, who's still with us, began her musical career on the West Coast. Her family lived in LA's Watts neighborhood, then a stronghold of the city's Black community. Brenda showed an affinity with music in her youth; she played several instruments, studied classical music and sang in her church's choir.
Her interests branched out into popular music. With her sister Patrice, she first recorded demos for songwriters and publishers in LA's music scene. Producers took note of this impressive voice and Del-Fi Records offered her a recording contract. Her first single, "Hey Fool," appeared in 1962. Around this time, she met songwriter-producer Ed Cobb, who supplied her with "Every Little Bit Hurts," a memorable waltz-time soul ballad. It wasn't originally released by Del-Fi and first saw the light of day on a 2009 compilation of the singer's pre-Motown work.
Holloway was introduced to Berry Gordy in a ceremony worthy of some Medieval king's court; she lip-synced to a Mary Well record and presented herself as a ravishing presence worthy to touch the hem of Motown's garment. Gordy was in LA to help establish a West Coast wing of Motown Records; he was aware of the strong Black music scene there and didn't want to miss out on new talent that might never make it to Detroit.
With producers Hal David and Marc Gordon, the 17-year-old Holloway had a difficult session on the remake of this song. She had a bad feeling about the session and went through many takes before a master recording was achieved. Coupled with one of Motown's most intriguing B-sides, the languid "Land of 1,000 Boys," it was a double-waltz single--a daring move.
Released on Tamla Records, the single got to #13 on the national pop charts and a new Motown star was born. Holloway preferred to remain in LA, and Gordy honored her request. A few months shy of 18, Holloway hit the road as part of the label's Motortown Review. She helped the still-struggling Supremes to get national recognition on another tour and watched as their new single, "Where Did Our Love Go," zoomed up the charts to the top spot.
At this time, Mary Wells, fed up with Gordy's business practices, walked out on her Motown contract. Gordy saw Brenda as the perfect replacement. Songs meant for Wells were shifted to her, and Holloway at last traveled to Detroit to record on the label's in-house studio.
"When I'm Gone," a Smokey Robinson song intended for Wells, became Brenda's next hit--at a decent #25 showing--in 1965. After that, despite a consistent high quality, her singles failed to surface beyond #69. She refused to subject herself to Motown's grooming process for female performers and was considered trouble by many staffers. Thus, less promotional oomph went behind her new releases. She released an excellent album named after her first hit. A second LP was recorded then scrapped; she was considered too rebellious for the reward of another album.
This leads us to today's single--the end of the road for Holloway at Motown. Typical of Motown product in 1967, it couples two songs produced by different creative teams. The unifying presence is Frank Wilson, best-known for his mega-rare, cancelled 1965 single "Do I Love You ('Deed I Do)." Gordy ordered all copies of this 45 destroyed. A couple survived and it's considered one of the rarest records of the era. A copy changed hands for £25,000 in 2009.
The topside was a song that would make a major impact on the pop mainstream via a 1969 cover version by the white blues-rock group Blood, Sweat and Tears. "You've Made Me So Very Happy" was co-written by Gordy, Wilson, Brenda and Patrice Holloway. Gordy produced this side, which edges towards the forthcoming sounds of funk and disco as it traverses the pop-soul sound Motown had created. Shimmering strings and Motown's rock-solid rhythm section frame Holloway's voice as she assays this tender-yet-tough ode to a partner who's made an enormous positive change in her existence.
The song is a clever dance around existing Motown clichés and doesn't sound like many other records from the label and its many subsidiaries. It did okay--#39 on the pop charts--but fell short of its potential. Al Kooper liked the song and his band's version just missed the top of the pop charts in 1969. Had Holloway's original achieved that #2 spot in 1967, she might have remained on Motown's roster, her "difficult" label peeled off and her status in the shaky world of Gordy's fiefdom boosted.
The gifted vocalist, who's still with us, began her musical career on the West Coast. Her family lived in LA's Watts neighborhood, then a stronghold of the city's Black community. Brenda showed an affinity with music in her youth; she played several instruments, studied classical music and sang in her church's choir.
Her interests branched out into popular music. With her sister Patrice, she first recorded demos for songwriters and publishers in LA's music scene. Producers took note of this impressive voice and Del-Fi Records offered her a recording contract. Her first single, "Hey Fool," appeared in 1962. Around this time, she met songwriter-producer Ed Cobb, who supplied her with "Every Little Bit Hurts," a memorable waltz-time soul ballad. It wasn't originally released by Del-Fi and first saw the light of day on a 2009 compilation of the singer's pre-Motown work.
Holloway was introduced to Berry Gordy in a ceremony worthy of some Medieval king's court; she lip-synced to a Mary Well record and presented herself as a ravishing presence worthy to touch the hem of Motown's garment. Gordy was in LA to help establish a West Coast wing of Motown Records; he was aware of the strong Black music scene there and didn't want to miss out on new talent that might never make it to Detroit.
With producers Hal David and Marc Gordon, the 17-year-old Holloway had a difficult session on the remake of this song. She had a bad feeling about the session and went through many takes before a master recording was achieved. Coupled with one of Motown's most intriguing B-sides, the languid "Land of 1,000 Boys," it was a double-waltz single--a daring move.
Released on Tamla Records, the single got to #13 on the national pop charts and a new Motown star was born. Holloway preferred to remain in LA, and Gordy honored her request. A few months shy of 18, Holloway hit the road as part of the label's Motortown Review. She helped the still-struggling Supremes to get national recognition on another tour and watched as their new single, "Where Did Our Love Go," zoomed up the charts to the top spot.
At this time, Mary Wells, fed up with Gordy's business practices, walked out on her Motown contract. Gordy saw Brenda as the perfect replacement. Songs meant for Wells were shifted to her, and Holloway at last traveled to Detroit to record on the label's in-house studio.
"When I'm Gone," a Smokey Robinson song intended for Wells, became Brenda's next hit--at a decent #25 showing--in 1965. After that, despite a consistent high quality, her singles failed to surface beyond #69. She refused to subject herself to Motown's grooming process for female performers and was considered trouble by many staffers. Thus, less promotional oomph went behind her new releases. She released an excellent album named after her first hit. A second LP was recorded then scrapped; she was considered too rebellious for the reward of another album.
This leads us to today's single--the end of the road for Holloway at Motown. Typical of Motown product in 1967, it couples two songs produced by different creative teams. The unifying presence is Frank Wilson, best-known for his mega-rare, cancelled 1965 single "Do I Love You ('Deed I Do)." Gordy ordered all copies of this 45 destroyed. A couple survived and it's considered one of the rarest records of the era. A copy changed hands for £25,000 in 2009.
The topside was a song that would make a major impact on the pop mainstream via a 1969 cover version by the white blues-rock group Blood, Sweat and Tears. "You've Made Me So Very Happy" was co-written by Gordy, Wilson, Brenda and Patrice Holloway. Gordy produced this side, which edges towards the forthcoming sounds of funk and disco as it traverses the pop-soul sound Motown had created. Shimmering strings and Motown's rock-solid rhythm section frame Holloway's voice as she assays this tender-yet-tough ode to a partner who's made an enormous positive change in her existence.
The song is a clever dance around existing Motown clichés and doesn't sound like many other records from the label and its many subsidiaries. It did okay--#39 on the pop charts--but fell short of its potential. Al Kooper liked the song and his band's version just missed the top of the pop charts in 1969. Had Holloway's original achieved that #2 spot in 1967, she might have remained on Motown's roster, her "difficult" label peeled off and her status in the shaky world of Gordy's fiefdom boosted.
Cash Box became more tight-lipped in its 1967 reviews. I miss the word-mangling enthusiasm of their 1950s and earlier '60s write-ups. Still, it's a big thumbs-up.
"I've Got To Find It" is Frank Wilson's show as composer and producer and, not for the first time at Motown, the B-side stands up to the A. A simpler and crisper sound prevails on this compact beat-ballad, which Holloway sings with resilience and quiet drama. It lasts just the right time, as with a stray thought that registers, is savored and then passes on.
With a bigger arrangement, this had hit potential. But it was just a B-side; tucked away on various Motown product are albums' worth of worthy flipsides where producers, arrangers and songwriters got to experiment on the clock and created memorable music unknown to the masses.
With a bigger arrangement, this had hit potential. But it was just a B-side; tucked away on various Motown product are albums' worth of worthy flipsides where producers, arrangers and songwriters got to experiment on the clock and created memorable music unknown to the masses.
Holloway co-wrote a song for The Supremes, "Bah Bah Bah," which was on the group's Reflections LP. Gordy allowed the singer a belated second LP, The Artistry of Brenda Holloway, in 1968. But she wasn't happy with Motown anymore. She walked out on a recording session with Smokey Robinson and returned to Los Angeles. Motown's cover story had her finding religion; the truth was hurtful to Gordy's empire. She was sick of currying favor, playing handmaiden in a male-dominated peer group and being pushed aside, time and again, while other artists received royal treatment.
In 1969, Holloway sued Motown; she felt they withheld songwriter royalties from Blood, Sweat and Tears' version of "You've Made Me..." She won her case but was persona non grata with Gordy.
She did continue to record with Motown's Holland-Dozier-Holland combine for their Invictus label in the 1970s, alongside sister Patrice. She's continued to have a good life after Motown, recording when she feels like it and enjoying the adoration of European soul fans who rate her with the warmth other Motown stars received at the height of their 1960s fame. There are happy ending in music; they're rare but welcome. This final Tamla single was Brenda Holloway's grand last act at a Black-owned label that revolutionized mainstream music in the turbulent 1960s.
In 1969, Holloway sued Motown; she felt they withheld songwriter royalties from Blood, Sweat and Tears' version of "You've Made Me..." She won her case but was persona non grata with Gordy.
She did continue to record with Motown's Holland-Dozier-Holland combine for their Invictus label in the 1970s, alongside sister Patrice. She's continued to have a good life after Motown, recording when she feels like it and enjoying the adoration of European soul fans who rate her with the warmth other Motown stars received at the height of their 1960s fame. There are happy ending in music; they're rare but welcome. This final Tamla single was Brenda Holloway's grand last act at a Black-owned label that revolutionized mainstream music in the turbulent 1960s.
Tomorrow: Jesse (Belvin) and Marvin (Phillips) with a 1953 r&b hit that delights with its simplicity and informality. This late 1952 Specialty Records single is the earliest first pressing I own on this first-rate LA-based label.
Whoa! I didn't know Holloway had a co-write on "You've Made Me So Very Happy" and never heard her recording before--thanks, Frank! I saw Blood Sweat and Tears do it live in at the Franklin and Marshall College gym in 1969, though. hahaha. These two Holloway tracks really forecast where Motown and others were stylistically headed in the 70s to my ear.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely agree. These sound like early '70s soul tracks to my ears. Motown was an innovator, even though they locked into formulas at times.
DeleteTwo lovely and excellent songs—recorded and sung just right. Cool to hear this version of "You Made Me..." compared to the Blood, Sweat and Tears song I heard a million times on the radio. Amazing how two different arrangements and singers can change a song.
ReplyDelete