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Miracle M6 (A), October 1961
b/w Take A Chance
(Written by Robert Bateman, Brian Holland, The Valadiers and Ronald Dunbar)
The one and only hit record that the neglected, soon-to-be-shuttered Miracle Records label would ever register, this fine bit of comedy doo-wop scaled the dizzy heights of Number 89 on the pop charts.
I say it’s “fine”, but it’s not, not really. No. Allow me to explain. This is an excellent song, by turns sweetly amusing and genuinely touching, which sadly ends up being totally ruined here by what sound like some truly shocking performances.
At which point you may well be asking: “Sound like” some truly shocking performances? What in blazes are you talking about? I say “sound like” because this is one of those singles for which the compilers of The Complete Motown Singles: Volume 1 couldn’t locate a master tape, having to make do instead with dubbing a copy from a 7″ vinyl record, and I believe it’s the worst affected of all such singles in the box. By some considerable distance, too. Either the singers and the band were completely incapable of keeping tune, drifting woozily off-key throughout the record, or the vinyl copy sourced for the box set was unsalvageably warped. It’s been brilliantly mastered, but the source sounds terribly wonky.
The Valadiers were Motown’s first white vocal group (I think this is the last of these “Motown’s first…” milestones out of the way now, actually. Champagne all around!) On this evidence, they were also pretty ordinary singers compared to some of their Motown labelmates, even if they were above average by the not-terribly-high standards of white Sixties doo-wop groups.
It might not always have been so. The liner notes to The Complete Motown Singles: Volume 1 have them changing their line-up at the behest of Berry Gordy before being signed to the label, ditching their black members. The story doesn’t make complete sense – something about the Del-Vikings having recently split up, meaning there was no market for mixed-race (or “integrated”) groups, or some such tripe – but if it’s true that the Valadiers had to replace a couple of singers at short notice, it might go some way to explaining the sub-par vocals on this record. Surely they must have sounded better than this at their audition.
I’d never heard this record before, only being familiar with the song from the Monitors’ hit cover version in 1966 (by which time the song – the story of an unwilling draftee into the army, firstly being exhorted by an anthropomorphised Uncle Sam to drop everything in his life, then bemoaning his lot and begging his girlfriend to stay faithful while he’s gone, and finally being barked at by a psychotic Full Metal Jacket-style drill sergeant – had acquired very real, very serious edge thanks to the escalating events in Vietnam). The Monitors’ version is exceptional, possibly the last good doo-wop record ever made, while the song features songwriting contributions from luminaries such as Brian Holland and Robert Bateman (as well as the mysterious Ronald Dunbar, a studio worker who would end up being credited with writing a number of Holland-Dozier-Holland’s post-Motown productions at their Hot Wax and Invictus labels). As such, I was really quite excited to hear what the original version sounded like.
And it sounds… dispiriting is the word I’m after, I think. It’s hard to look past the faulty recording, which makes the record rather difficult to listen to, but I don’t know if a pristine master tape would have remedied this. From what I can tell (and from the evidence of the B-side Take A Chance and the Valadiers’ other Motown singles, which didn’t have these lost master tape troubles), their harmonies were satisfactory rather than spellbinding, and that seems to be the case here too. Lead singer Stuart Avig gamely goes for a few high notes, but comes up flat every time, while there’s just no chemistry of any kind between him and the other Valadiers doing backup. The “drill sergeant” bit in particular, a bit which is both menacing and hilariously hammy in the Monitors’ version, is done dourly and without enthusiasm here from both ‘actors’; the effect is more Sgt Bilko than Full Metal Jacket.
Sad to report (and perhaps harsh to judge it against a later record), but it seems safe to say this isn’t a patch on the Monitors’ version, duff recording notwithstanding.
A shame, because the song really is excellent. The Valadiers would have two more singles released through Motown, but no more hits; while they wouldn’t pick up any further Motown writing credits as a group, backing singer and arranger Marty Coleman would end up as a useful producer/songwriter with the label in the late Sixties and early Seventies.
MOTOWN JUNKIES VERDICT
(I’ve had MY say, now it’s your turn. Agree? Disagree? Leave a comment, or click the thumbs at the bottom there. Dissent is encouraged!)
You’re reading Motown Junkies, an attempt to review every Motown A- and B-side ever released. Click on the “previous” and “next” buttons below to go back and forth through the catalogue, or visit the Master Index for a full list of reviews so far.
(Or maybe you’re only interested in The Valadiers? Click for more.)
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| Eddie Holland “Take A Chance On Me” |
The Valadiers “Take A Chance” |
Motown Junkies 
Somehow this single never grabbed me, neither by the Valadiers or the Monitors. The rhythm is clunky and in light of the Vietnam tragedy it always just seemed inappropriate
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I like the Monitors’ version, which – precisely because of the seriousness of the situation – becomes a kind of black comedy, laughing in the face of death, rather than the wacky Bilko-esque capers of the original.
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I, too, like The Monitors’ version better. But NOT because it was more appropriately timed, but because it sounds better, and has more emotion in it. It DOES also sound like they did the second version “tongue-in-cheek”.
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For some reason, the 45rpm copy of “Greetings…” used here was pressed off-center, and whoever mastered the set didn’t correct for it…that PARTLY explains the off-tuneness. However, the background singers are noticably flat as well, even on a properly pressed copy.
This record appears in “A Collection of 16 Original Big Hits, Vol. 2.” The mono master of that LP has GOT to be in the Universal vaults. Or at least they could have used, with explanation, the stereo (!) version (heard on the CD version of “Collection…Vol.2”).
Properly mastered or not, it’s still a really bad record.
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When this came out it seemed everybody was being drafted for either Germany or S Korea. It struck a nerve. Besides its comedic side, it had a sad side… a young man being torn away from his girl and transported to some strange, far off land.
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Yes, Steve, the song resonated for a lot fo people at the time. Isn’t that what music is supposed to do? For that reason alone it deserves a high rating. Although the Monitors’ version did better chartwise, I like lead singer Stuart Avig’s vocal on this.
My rating: 7/10
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I agree completely with the verdict, The Monitors version is basically kicks this versions behind. With all the static going on because the original master but Stewart high notes are almost intolerable especially at 1:40 gee wiz!! The meaning of the song is great which is why I give this 2/10
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Just found this absolutely outstanding essay by Mark Clague on Motown, politics and the anti-Vietnam movement (and which namechecks this record!) – well worth a read:
http://hdl.handle.net/2027/spo.act2080.0049.406
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Only 2/10, I’m amazed you gave this gem such a low mark. True, the arrangement is a bit basic and the lead vocal a bit weak, but this is a very clever song, tackling the feelings of someone who has been conscripted and doesn’t want to go. Fortunately for me, I was too young (only just ) to be conscripted in Britain, but I know I would have felt exactly as the lyrics of this song were written. I remember reading MIke Raven’s liner notes to the Motown Memories volume 2 which contained the Monitors version of this song, and rather oddly he recommended listeners concentrate on the music and ignore the lyrics. Maybe he was some kind of armed forces lover, but for me the lyrics are really relevant as I hate anything to do with the armed forces. Additionally, I find the orders (eg “get in step”, “march”, etc) given out as the record fades far more unnerving on this version than those on the Monitors version. The guy giving the orders on this version sounds a really nasty piece of work! A unique and brilliant record in my opinion.
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I, too, think the rating “2” should be reserved for recordings of really poor quality, but with one redeeming feature (while “1” should have NO redeeming features). This is a halfway decent song, with a so-so instrumental. A decently-written song. I’d give it a “4”, and The Monitors’ version, a “7” (but, that’s no surprise, as Richard Street is one of my very favourite singers, and The Monitors are one of my favourite groups).
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