They were never going to be the Supremes, but instead, here they take possession of something new, something more dangerous and exciting and grown-up: from here on in, this is the Vandellas’ home turf, and they occupy it with panache. And with a super-catchy chorus to boot. (8)
It’s hard to argue that it doesn’t sound nice, but given the pedigree of everyone involved – given this is Motown we’re talking about here, and in the summer of 1965 to boot – well, I’m just looking for more than pleasant and meaningless wallpaper. (4)
It’s the sort of thing where you could imagine Mary Wells having an absolute field day, but Brenda treats it as nothing more than a vocal showcase and, I have to say, I don’t really like it all that much. (4)
Strangely, considering this isn’t brilliant – and that it could easily have been recorded a year before by someone else without anyone batting an eyelid – Your Cheating Ways perhaps offered unwitting fans more of a clue to the Marvelettes’ future sound than first realised. (6)
I can’t necessarily imagine anyone picking it out as one of their all-time favourites (though no doubt there’ll be some in the comments section!), but there’s really very little wrong with it; for me it just doesn’t go quite far enough, doesn’t scrape the sky in the way it keeps threatening. Still, on a good day, there’s little to touch it. (7)
A genuinely thrilling album track, and that’s where it should have stayed. (6)
A brief oasis of calm and contemplation amid a sustained barrage of banging high-gloss pop tunes. Really rather lovely, and not at all unwelcome. (7)
The magic of Motown runs in the veins of Mother Dear, and it’s only a pity it didn’t seduce the decision-makers deeply enough; while it might not have topped the charts, it would have made a fine, fine single. (9)
Messy but still full-on excellent, shambling towards greatness; it’s a rush, a buzz, a gas, utterly irresistible in its demented glee. (8)
Based solely on its reputation, this seemed like it might be a chance to ease up on the flow of constant praise we’ve had recently – but no, this one’s absolutely fine by me. (8)
Don’t get me wrong, this one’s still undeniably cool – I almost feel a compelling need to listen to it while wearing shades and cracking open a cold beer – but if you put a gun to my head and said I had to choose one Cleo, and only one, it wouldn’t be this one. Luckily, nobody’s ever going to force you to make that choice. (7)
Very much the All Stars’ Wild One compared to Shotgun‘s Dancing In The Street, for good and ill. I like it a lot, but I like their previous two singles even more. (7)
Kind of fun, in a pleasant enough polite early-Sixties jazz rock-out sort of way – but it’s preposterously short, and (maybe as a result) it feels almost completely ephemeral, a highly unusual choice for a first UK-only Motown single. (4)
Sumptuous in its beauty, quietly devastating in its lyrics… I don’t know how he’s doing this. (8)
For the second time in a row, the Miracles are shafted out of a (10) simply because I’ve only got fifty to award, and I’d run out of them. But, again, if you were to say this one was your favourite Miracles single, favourite Motown single, even… I’d get it. (9)
Not bad or offensive, it’s just sort of there. A fun but forgettable bit of filler. (4)
Unexpectedly, it turns out Smokey, and Motown, needed the Contours to exist: not as a link to the past, but as an outlet for silly ideas, as an expression of physical energy, as a pressure valve. And this, daft as it is, is just buckets of fun. (7)
The overall effect is to remind me of the Supremes’ similarly beautiful, similarly half-realised Standing At The Crossroads Of Love: when it’s lovely, it’s lovely enough to matter. (6)
While this isn’t Marvin’s best Motown side so far – it’s bizarre, and it’s miserable, it’s probably my favourite. It’s raw, it’s honest, it’s painful, it’s beautiful, it’s everything I want when I go to Marvin’s later albums. Quite some going. (9)
Undeniably well-made as a genre piece, and it holds its own well enough against some of Motown’s other MOR-style crooner cuts from more established names; but it’s not to my taste, and as we won’t be hearing from Dorsey again here on Motown Junkies until we get to 1975, it’s a bit of a strange note upon which to be parting. (4)
Starts out great, but I like it less and less the more it goes on; it’s a measure of the excellent first minute or so of this single that it still ends up being far and away Dorsey Burnette’s best Motown cut. (6)
The biggest plus has to be that at no stage does Danny’s vocal provoke unintentional giggles by desperately lunging for notes he hasn’t a hope of reaching. Not fantastic or anything, but not an embarrassment either, this is a definite improvement. (4)
I’m loath to give it the lowest possible mark, just because I really like the (beautiful) song, and I really like Hal Davis when he’s not singing. But this is just some guy doing piss-poor karaoke; it’s a genuinely godawful record and there’s no excuse for it at all. (2)
Dated (which isn’t necessarily a problem), rough (again, not always a problem), and boring (definitely a problem), this is an inexplicable return to a time already vanished, and the trip does the Spinners no credit at all. (3)
It’s the very definition of a Golden Age, when even the supposed second-string acts can turn in a record as amazing as this at any time, without warning. Motown must have wondered where all these guys were coming from. (9)
Absolutely fine as far as pleasingly diverting B-sides go. It’s just the widespread admiration that baffles me. Would I jump up to turn it off? Of course not. Would I pick it out as some sort of highlight? Not in a million years. (5)
The Temptations cover themselves in glory here. This is the sound of a group absolutely on top of their game; the true follow-up to My Girl, and – unexpectedly – very nearly as good. (9)
An interview. With the Supremes.
I like it more than I probably should. I like it more than Back In My Arms Again, anyway; it’s this one I’ve come away whistling. (8)
I don’t know if this is Marv Johnson’s best Motown single side – there are a few more to come yet, not to mention a highly unlikely late-career revival, which are ripe for rediscovery – but I do know I really, really like it. Good show. (8)
Intriguing to have him back, and there are certainly better records to come from Marv’s Motown return, but this one is a chaotic, messy shambles which really isn’t Johnson’s song. (3)
The whole thing suffers from an almost total lack of abandon, joyful or otherwise, which makes its supposed jollity come across as forced: rather than bouncy and breezy, it’s grating and flat. Other than that sax break, it’s just boring. (2)
This is very, very silly, and it has nothing at all to do with anything else Motown was up to in the summer of 1965 – but it’s catchy, and it knows how strange it is and carries on anyway, and I can’t bring myself to get too angry with it. (4)
The germ of a good song that needed some more polish, and a group who needed another couple of takes to get everything just right. (5)
It’s still both stupid and annoying, and without the Supremes connection, I’m not sure anyone would pay this any attention at all. (3)
Once more, this is nowhere near as horrific as it might have been, Mr. B bringing a level of class to proceedings which makes it all go down smooth. Truth be told, I’ve ended up becoming rather fond of it. (6)
This may be many things, but it’s certainly not another half-assed attempt at a late-career revival for a washed-up has-been; Mr B. can still bring it. (4)
I still wouldn’t go so far as to say I really liked it, but this is another definite improvement on the original, and if these Mary Wells covers were proving to be chart poison for Brenda, well, on this evidence she was at least getting rather better at doing them. (5)
If nobody will be confusing this for a masterpiece any time soon, nonetheless I much prefer this version to the original; finally the song makes sense. Not as a choice of single, mind you. (6)
Although it sounds a bit rusty compared to the older and wiser ’65-model Stevie we’ve started to get used to, this turns out to be a more mature and considered piece than Wonder’s actual new records have been of late. (4)
Almost endearingly crazy, and it ends up being entirely likeable. Splendid stuff. (8)
