by Berry Gordy
To Be Loved
The Music, the Magic, the Memories of Motown
Berry Gordy
Copyright
To Be Loved
Copyright © 1994, 2013 by Berry Gordy
Cover art, special contents, and Electronic Edition © 2013 by RosettaBooks LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover jacket design by Alexia Garaventa
ISBN e-Pub edition: 9780795333705
to my sisters Gwen and Anna,
who think they own me—
and they do
Contents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
AUTHOR’S NOTE
PREFACE
PART ONE—YOU ARE YOU
1. SUCCESS IS A MF
2. WHERE I CAME FROM
3. MUSIC VERSUS BOXING
4. FACING THE REAL WORLD
PART TWO—I’LL TRY SOMETHING NEW
5. THE SONGWRITING YEARS
6. MOTOWN
7. SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
PART THREE—I HEAR A SYMPHONY
8. THE SUPREMES
9. THE EXPLOSION
10. CHANGES IN THE GROOVES
11. NEW HORIZONS
PART FOUR—ALL IN LOVE IS FAIR
12. TROUBLES AND TRIBUTES
13. MOTOWN FOREVER
14. FULL CIRCLE
FURTHER ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
RELEASED COMPOSITIONS BY BERRY GORDY
COPYRIGHT ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
PHOTO CREDITS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
When I started writing this book I thought it was no different from any other creative project that I attacked: a song, a screenplay, a stage play, a TV special or a live show. I figured that as long as I was honest and put everything down as it happened in a creative way that was all there was to it. Not so. I ended up having to put a team together just as I did to run my company.
Over the years, whether it was making records or movies or developing business policies, I’ve worked with some of the best. This has never been more true than of those who supported me in writing this book.
Like me, many of the people working on the book had never been involved with writing one before. Lucky for me the first person I want to thank was one who had. Thank you, Mim Eichler, for teaching me so much about structure, design and generally just putting a book together. Also for your dedication, attitude, and oh yes, your resilience.
I want to thank three longtime Motown employees for their continued loyal dedication: Brenda M. Boyce—among other things for doing a superhuman job of research, interviews, fact finding and document checking. Rebecca Jiles-Davidson—for transcribing and organizing hours and hours of audio- and videotapes to near perfection and without complaint. Fay Janet Hale—for transcribing twenty- to thirty-year-old meeting tapes and for helping to select and document photographs taken throughout the years. Brenda, Rebecca, and Fay, not only was your loyalty the lifeblood of Motown, but for the book as well.
Martina Gruber, for helping to organize my ideas, focusing on concepts that were turning points in my life, and for challenging me to answer tough questions.
Marianne Partridge, journalistic veteran, for overseeing the organization and selection of photographs, and for bringing your great editorial sensibilities and literary experience to the project.
To my friend and adviser Ewart Abner, thank you for your passionate storytelling about the past that inspired me so much.
To Linda Palmer, busy professional writer and longtime friend, who came in as an editorial assistant for the last six months of the project and worked practically around the clock proofreading and copyediting my constantly changing manuscript. You were that breath of fresh air we needed at such a critical time.
And Christie Burton. When I first met you I was amazed at how much you knew about Motown music. You’ve continued to amaze me as you’ve risen to every challenge I’ve thrown your way. During the years of this book’s development I discovered you are a natural-born writer and editor. You took on the job of book manager, handling everybody’s problems, keeping the team together and keeping me together. And being my biggest critic, you made sure my writing stayed true to me. I would have to write another chapter to list all the ways you’ve contributed to this project. I love you. I am so fortunate to have you in my life.
SPECIAL THANKS TO:
Edna Anderson, for lending your keen insights, keeping the rest of the business running smoothly at the same time, and for conducting some of the first interviews.
Suzanne de Passe, who encouraged me to write this book in the first place. Your ideas and thoughts were so invaluable, it’s hard to imagine what the book would’ve been without you. You never let me take the easy way out of telling the real story.
Mario Escobar, for doing a brilliant job behind the camera and in the darkroom and, as part of my permanent staff, for so many other things important to the book. Video librarian Donna Merchant, for pinch-hitting on transcription and research. To Randy Robbins for overseeing the numerous video interviews shot at my home, for your technological expertise in every aspect of this book, including interfacing a computer system with this project in ways everyone else had told me couldn’t be done.
To the current staffs at Jobete Music and the Gordy Company, for your prompt attention to our research questions.
My niece Iris Gordy for sharing documents, memories and helping in so many ways. And Susan Hendler for jumping into the project wherever you were needed. David Ritz whose original outline gave me a place to start and made the blank page less ominous. Billie Jean Brown for helping to prod my memory with your recollections.
To Ron Fauntleroy for doing such a great job handling so many corporate and family matters for me during the writing of the book.
I am most grateful to Nanscy Neiman, Warner Books Vice President, publisher and the editor who guided this project from beginning to end, and for going along with my “crazy” ideas that made this project seem like a bottomless pit. And to the phenomenal team at Warner Books who took this project very seriously in every detail.
MORE SPECIAL THANKS:
To those who gave interviews, whether on the phone, on camera, or in person, you not only enriched the book but touched me deeply in recalling so many of the wonderful experiences we shared: Al Abrams, Barney Ales, Gil Askey, Danny Bakewell, Robert Bateman, Shelly Berger, Paul Bloch, Angelo Bond, Thomas “Beans” Bowles, Janie Bradford-Hobbs, Elaine Brown, Chris Clark, Dick Clark, Rob Cohen, Guy Costa, Hal Davis, Roquel Billy Davis, Ann Dozier, Harvey Fuqua, Sidney Furie, Junius Griffin, Calvin Harris, Frances Heard-Maclin, Brian Holland, Janet Hubbard-Luck, Willie Hutch, Jermaine Jackson, Jesse Jackson, Marv Johnson, Bob Jones, Phil Jones, Maurice King, Gladys Knight, Nancy Leiviska, Miller London, Magnificent Montague, Jerry Moss, Tom Noonan, Harold Noveck, Sidney Noveck, Martha Reeves, Deke Richards, Paul Riser, Smokey Robinson, Michael Roshkind, Diana Ross, George Schiffer, George Schlatter, Dick Scott, Ralph Seltzer, Raynoma Singleton, Daniel Skouras, Gary Smith, Armin Steiner, William “Mickey” Stevenson, Barrett Strong, Russ Terrana, Jean Terrell, Marjorie Wallace, Georgia Ward, Mira Waters, Norman Whitfield, Billy Dee Williams, Stevie Wonder. And to Harry Balk who did a wonderful job running A&R in Detroit when I left for California and, among other things, developed the group Rare Earth.
And thanks to all the people who supported Motown in the early years, including: George Albert and the folks at Cash Box magazine; John H. Johnson and Bob Johnson of Jet and Ebony magazines; the DJs, the retailers, the rackjobbers and the independent distrib
utors who made it possible for us to get our records out to the public in the first place.
THANKS TO ANOTHER GREAT TEAM:
Roger Campbell, when I met you at the Century Plaza Hotel almost thirty years ago you were a limo driver. What I saw in you never changed—your goodness, your qualities of character, your dedication. Now my longtime chief of staff and close friend, I thank you for your loyalty throughout the years. To Les Peterson for working so hard with me and making it all look easy, for your dedication and calm, even in the eyes of so many storms. To Andrew Davis, protective, smart, funny and the most clever Dirty Hearts player I’ve ever seen, for serving me and Motown well for many years. And Tony Greene, who is so special, one of a kind, always worried about things being just right.
A very special thank-you to Angelo Fernando, my wonderful chef, for keeping not only me but the entire book staff healthy and strong during our dramatic ordeal.
THANKS TO FAMILY AND FRIENDS:
Robert Gordy for always caring so much about me. George Gordy, my older brother, whom I always admired and looked up to. Even today you are one of the few people who can soothe me when I’m troubled. Esther Gordy Edwards for your memory, your great record-keeping and your attention to detail. My cousins, Gwen Joyce Fuller, who’s always been a sister to me, and my dear, dear Evelyn Turk-Johnson.
And to my beloved kids—Hazel, Berry IV, Terry, Kerry, Sherry, Kennedy, Rhonda and Stefan—our relationships are more precious to me than any words I could say here. And to my grandchildren. I love you all.
Loving gratitude goes to my ex-wife Grace Gordy. Though our paths have taken different turns, thank you for being there during some of the difficult times I’ve written about and for urging me to stay with the writing.
To Sy Weintraub, Gary Judis, Sidney Poitier, Hugh Hefner—just thanks.
To Suzee Ikeda—when you started as a singer I never expected that you’d turn into the great protégé and assistant to me that you became. Your integrity and constant support are qualities I have always appreciated. And to Melvin Franklin, a loyal and rare man whose loving ways have never changed.
To the very, very special Ron Garnett. I shall never forget you.
Also in memory of my oldest brother, Fuller, for being the first in so many ways—the firstborn, the first boxer, the first songwriter and the first clown, entertaining us with all your different characters, including “Mr. Koochenheimer,” that hunched-over little man with the German accent who always made us laugh. Mr. Koochenheimer, we miss you.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Even with extensive research, interviews, audio- and videotapes, meeting notes, memos and all the other sources of information to jog my memory, there are still some important unsung heroes I am bound to not mention. I apologize. I never intended to write a documentary. I wrote everything from memory, pulling from all this documented material, aiming for truth and accuracy in depicting the spirit and intent of what was said and done at the time.
PREFACE
I am not your average writer. I’ve never written a book before. In fact, I haven’t even read that many. I never had time.
I had learned a long time ago it was much more comfortable staying out of the public eye. But after thirty years the misconceptions about me and Motown became so great I finally had to deal with them.
Those closest to me had been after me for years to set the record straight, but the time was never right—now it is. I thought about so many people I’ve admired who had not had (or taken) the time to tell their own stories in their own words. I could see that history was judging them not by their truth but by what was being written in books by others. It was then I realized how fortunate I was to be able to put down on paper my own life story—not only for me and my family, but for those many unsung heroes without whom there would not have been a Motown.
When I started this book I had no idea what I was in for. My wonderful agent, Norman Brokaw, of the William Morris Agency, put me together with Larry Kirshbaum and Nanscy Neiman of Warner Books. I liked them. Nanscy, becoming my editor, told me I could do the book in “about a year.” What a liar! But she paid for it by chasing after me for the manuscript over the next five. And she gave me such brilliant input along the way I had no choice but to forgive her.
I knew I had to devote a lot of time to reliving history. When I began to look back and unravel the past thirty years of Motown I realized I first had to unravel me, Berry Gordy—who I was, how I did what I did, and who I became.
Many people believe that dreams like Motown just don’t come true. Well, To Be Loved is the story of one that did.
PART ONE
YOU ARE YOU
YOU ARE YOU
You are you—
That’s all that matters to me.
You are you—
And only you can be the one I love and yearn for,
the one that my heart burns for.
Yes, you are you—
And that makes you best of all.
Never wished that you were more beautiful
More lovely or a star
For God made all your features
I love you as you are
Yes, you are you—
And that makes you best of all.
© 1950 Jobete Music Co., Inc.
BERRY GORDY, JR.
1
SUCCESS IS A MF
MAY 23, 1988—10:30 A.M., MOTOWN INDUSTRIES, LOS ANGELES
That period of time before the selling of my company was probably the most confusing of my life.
It was about a month before I would surrender my title as chairman of the board of Motown Records. As I made my way through the heavy wooden doors of our eighteenth-floor corporate offices I could feel the panic. It was everywhere—a quiet panic. Negotiations with MCA were supposed to be secret, but the daily leaks to the press were so accurate they seemed phony.
Fay Hale, a black woman in her fifties, one of the many unsung heroes of Motown, greeted me in the lobby with a cheerful “Good Morning,” and her everyday beaming smile. But her eyes gave her away. She was petrified. For almost thirty years she, like so many others, had been loyal to me. For almost thirty years she had fought every president of the record company, including me, to keep us from overshipping and overpaying. I knew she loved me and she knew I loved her. I also knew she knew she was about to lose her job—her life. Yet, she and I chatted as if nothing was happening.
The impending doom was felt by everyone. Especially by my son, Berry IV, who had hoped someday to run the company. But he had been through this before.
A year and a half earlier I had come close to selling. But the day before I was to sign the papers, I changed my mind. I couldn’t go through with it. MCA had offered me more money than I could spend in a lifetime, but I just didn’t want to give it up at that time. All those restrictions they put in the contract didn’t help either: “Refrain from the record business for five years,” “refrain from using your name,” “refrain,” “forbid,” “shall not engage.” Yeah? Well, shall not sign. How’s that?
MCA was shocked and so was I. But it seems the fighter inside me had taken over. That night, December 30, 1986, I passed on the deal even though my company was losing millions.
When the news broke that I had refused to sell, people were overjoyed. Calls and letters came from all over the world telling me how much Motown was loved, respected, and how our music had touched their lives. This outpouring of love and admiration was overwhelming. It made me feel like a hero or something just because I didn’t sell.
I got psyched. I would answer the bell one more time and come out fighting, creating new hits just like the old days.
Get everybody together! Get inspired, perspired, fired up, go for the throat! We need hits. No. Smashes! That’s the only way—smash product.
There had always been a standing debate in our company as to which was more important—Creative or Marketing. Creative had always won. Our slogan, “It’s what’s in the grooves that counts,” w
as proven right over and over again. Great records had always solved any and all problems for me. But gung ho as I was—marshaling forces, reshuffling and bringing in manpower, digging in at the studio—that had not been enough. Times had changed.
Now, some seventeen months later, as I gazed from my office window across the forest of corporate buildings to the Capitol Records tower, I realized many of them, too, were in the process of being taken over. Everybody was either buying or selling.
Technology was moving faster than the speed of light. Global communications, cable, satellite dishes, computerization and digitalization were the new order of the day. A video of a song could now be played once for 200 million people and if 1 percent bought the record you had a two million seller, a super hit by any standard.
Conglomerates were taking over. These multicorporate entities, with their dominating distribution capabilities and their powerful foothold in a radically changing world economy, had the edge. A big edge.
For years we had shown the world what we could do with talent and ingenuity as our base. And now these new corporate entities were showing me what they could do with money and power as theirs. I, who had prided myself on always being ahead of the game, had fallen behind. My company was in no position to take advantage of these new developments. We had too much overhead and had to gross $40 million a year just to break even.
Selling wasn’t just the right thing to do, it was the only thing to do.
I shifted my eyes from the window to the gleaming baby grand in my office. It seemed to be saying “Come let me soothe you.” I went over, sat down and started running over some chord changes that had formed the foundation of many songs I had written. As I pounded away at those simple chords, humming and singing anything that came to mind, I was back to basics—and comfortable.