2648 West Grand Blvd. or “Hitsville, U.S.A.,” was a star-studded studio house that concocted smash hit records at an unprecedented pace beginning in 1959. The Detroit headquarters birthed Motown’s distinctive sound.
Berry Gordy, the founder of the Motown record label, unequivocally refused to compromise on his love child — the well-oiled, highly profitable machine of Motown Records. He meticulously handpicked the in-house cast of songwriters, backing musicians and producers as well as perfected the detailed equation of a charting-topping song.
Gordy’s acclaimed assembly line method integrated Black artists’ work into the mainstream radio stations that had historically snubbed Black art. Yet, despite being a pioneer integrationist, the man was adamant about excluding political protests from the music’s cultural messaging. Gordy had virtually no tolerance for creative liberty and artistic deviations in the name of social consciousness. If the music piece was not a commercial, replicated hit, Gordy trashed it.
When songwriting team Holland-Dozier-Hollands (HDH) left the Motown record label in 1967, it signaled and offset a lingering distrust in the internal monarchs of the Motown Empire — the first being with Gordy. HDH was accustomed to creative autonomy, so when Gordy began to push for quicker production schedules and decisive control, they up and left. The story of Motown’s eventual fragmentation can be accredited to the nationalization of a once local, intimate record label and the battle between art for political efficacy versus art for commercial entertainment.
Motown, in its worst moments, was assimilationist and, at its best, was a revolutionary, cultural headway to racial integration in America.
From 1953 to 1956, Gordy manufactured vehicles part-time at the Lincoln-Mercury assembly line in a Detroit auto plant. Although his short-lived automobile career is seemingly trivial, it inspired the memorable name and methodology of Motown Records.
“Motown” was a portmanteau of Motor Town. “Motor” was indicative of Detroit’s lucrative automobile industry and “Town” captured the familial intimacy of the modest West Ward recording studio.
However, the cobalt blue, calligraphic “Hitsville U.S.A.” on the studio’s banister was a threshold warning. When an artist was privileged enough to walk under those letters and enter West Ward, there was no leeway for undelivered greatness.
Luckily, William “Smokey” Robinson delivered.
When The Miracles signed with Motown Records in 1960, Gordy was positively enamored with the raw musical genius of 17-year-old Robinson. The following year, The Miracles came out with “Shop Around,” the label’s first single to sell a million records, officially putting Motown on the map. In 1962, The Marvelettes came out with “Please Mr. Postman.” Later that year, The Miracles dropped “You Really Got a Hold on Me.”
The pronounced Motown Sound, a blend of soul, pop, R&B and gospel influences, took on a cult following and cultural transcendence of its own. The mechanical consistency of Motown’s hit songs made for a predictable harmonic modulation three-fourths in, a punchy backbeat, the occasional hand clap, a solid professional orchestra and no real improvisation of the vocalists. The lyrics were upright, boy-girl romance ballads with synchronized precision and nationally accepted.
Gordy effectively integrated the Motown image into white acceptance. He hired Maxine Powell, an etiquette coach, who stopped Marvin Gaye from closing his eyes when he sang and made Diana Ross hold the microphone farther away from her mouth. Soon, The Supremes appeared on “Ed Sullivan” and headlined New York’s ritzy Copacabana. Powell credits herself for “bringing class to Motown.” Gordy saw assimilation as the only plausible vehicle for integration in the 1960s. However, the idea that poise and respectability come from mirroring perceived whiteness is racist. Scat singing and melisma, or extended vocal runs, were not befitting for the polished Motown presentation. The artists were global ambassadors for an integrated audience.
Soon, The Jackson 5 had their own television program and Diana Ross was Oscar-nominated in Gordy’s feature film. Detroit was no match for the golden prospect of Hollywood, and Gordy began to abandon the music’s soul ties to Detroit for a Los Angeles studio. Meanwhile, 1960s Detroit was overrun with de facto segregation, police brutality, destructive riots, redlining, tenement housing, restrictive covenants and the white flight.
Marvin Gaye’s brother, Frankie, was stationed in Vietnam around this time. Personally disturbed by the daily news, especially when the Ohio National Guard openly fired on a group of unarmed Kent State University students protesting the Vietnam War, Gaye penned the famous“What’s Going On” alongside the Four Tops’ Member Obie Benson. The song was a political protest to the nation’s police brutality, the ongoing war, oil spills, redlined neighborhoods and de facto segregation.
Disregarding Gordy’s obstinate veto to the song, Gaye sent out the single to the radio stations on January 17, 1971. A mere four days later, every single copy had sold out. To this day, “What’s Going On” is considered one of the most articulate and deeply felt anti-war songs of all time.
And with that, the glory days of perfected poise were gone.
Isabella Ehring is an Opinion Intern for the fall 2024 quarter. She can be reached at iehring@uci.edu.
Edited by Lillian Dunn and Annabelle Aguirre.
