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Tamla T 54095 (A), May 1964
b/w If My Heart Could Sing
(Written by Berry Gordy)
Stateside SS 326 (A), August 1964
b/w If My Heart Could Sing
(Released in the UK under license through Stateside Records)
Well. Absolutely fascinating, perhaps the most fascinating record we’ve yet covered on Motown Junkies – but most of that fascination is extra-textual. In terms of what’s actually on the record, it’s rather easy to let this one drift by without paying much attention at all – the first time that’s been true of any Marvin Gaye single so far. It makes very little impact, nicely put together though it is; you’d never get a sense of the record’s significance just by listening to it. Of which more later.
Try It Baby was written and produced by Motown boss Berry Gordy, by now Marvin’s brother-in-law. By 1964, Berry’s trips to the studio were becoming increasingly rare. To me, this is one of the great unexplored Motown stories; Berry had built Motown up from nothing into a respectable commercial force in just six years. Much of that growth was powered by Gordy’s business nous, but – and this should never be overlooked – a lot of it, especially in the early years, driven by the boss’ songwriting prowess. The big – the only? – difference in 1959 between Motown and fifty other tiny black-owned indie labels with no distribution and no advertising budget was Gordy’s creative reputation, acquired with Jackie Wilson and then kept up with hits for Marv Johnson, Barrett Strong et al.
Up until early 1963, if you were a Motown artist, it was a boon to have Berry Gordy write or produce your single – not just because he was the boss and therefore you’d get some prestige and brownie points (and because it showed he was interested in how you were getting along!), but because the chances were that as one of the best writers and producers in the business he’d bring you something good to sing, or get a great sound belting right out of the speakers.
But times changed. As Motown grew, increasingly Berry Gordy was needed as a businessman and an administrator, an arbiter with sole power of veto at Quality Control meetings, unspoken but universally acknowledged emperor of A&R, the big scary boss figure. All of which obviously took up a lot of his time, and kept him away from the studio in a practical, physical sense. And that’s fair enough, and that’s the story that’s always put forward.
There’s more to it than that, though. By 1964, Berry Gordy wasn’t just finding it increasingly difficult to find time to actually get into the studio, but the work he produced when he got there wasn’t cutting-edge stuff any more: he’d been left behind. If he’d have declared himself retired from hands-on writing and production, concentrating solely on the business side of things for the next five years, precisely nothing would have changed; Motown’s mid-Sixties Golden Age would have happened exactly the same without him doing any studio work at all. And here’s the kicker: Berry knew it.
In a TV interview with Tavis Smiley a few years ago, Gordy laughingly admitted that he thought he’d set the bar pretty high, only for other writers – hired hands – to sail over it, and then turn around and set that bar even higher, higher than Berry himself could go. He says it in a jokey, offhand way, but watch the clip and decide whether he was really that happy about it. Still, as Tavis says, no-one can take Lonely Teardrops away from him.
It’s tempting to engage in a bit of amateur psychoanalysis here, so I’ll preface this by saying I obviously don’t know what he thought about being knocked off his perch – but to me, it must have been somewhat galling on a number of levels. Knowing people he himself had discovered, hired, trained and nurtured had now outpaced him; knowing he still had the power (if he so chose) to declare himself overlord of the studio and produce and write every session; and knowing – with his keen businessman’s mind – that from a business perspective, the smart call was to ignore that impulse, take a back seat.
Oh, Berry could still write a fine song, there’s no doubting that – but why bother, when he had a whole stable of guys at his fingertips who could be paid to write an even better one? Try It Baby is one of the last hit Motown records to bear Berry Gordy’s name on the label; the end of an era, just as surely as Where Did Our Love Go was about to herald the beginning of a new one.
Perhaps all of that explains why this record ended up sounding so out of place, or at least out of sequence, for Marvin Gaye. This is a half-speed throwback to Pride And Joy, mixed with some fine – but dated – group harmonies courtesy of the Temptations. (Indeed, this could have come from some weird alternate 1962 where Berry Gordy followed up Dream Come True by hiring Marvin, not David Ruffin, to join the group.)
Almost every Marvin Gaye single going back to 1961 had built upon the one before, but this one is a big step backwards from the likes of Can I Get A Witness or You’re A Wonderful One. Typical of what had happened to Berry Gordy, and illustrative of his tacitly self-accknowledged musical stagnation compared to his Motown peers – his idea for Marvin’s next move was something that had not only already been done (and better to boot), but something Marvin had already left behind.
Well, something that Marvin’s commercial mind had left behind, anyway. There were already two Marvin Gayes at Motown, one a hip-shaking pop star and the other an eyes-closed MOR crooner; the public were only interested in the former, Marvin himself wished with all his heart to be the latter. Motown had thrown him a bone on that front, greenlighting two LPs of bland whitebread standards, pseudo-standards and soft jazz, the price with which they’d bought a string of early Gaye hits. The bluesy strut of Try It Baby is a softer, more palatable kind of music than usual, closer to Marvin’s light entertainment preferences than the likes of Stubborn Kind Of Fellow or Hitch Hike, albeit still unmistakeably more R&B-pop than a Broadway standard or Nat King Cole classic. To me, at least, it never really feels like a Marvin Gaye single, especially not given the run of barnstorming uptempo hits he’d recently notched up. It feels out of place; well made and everything, but… we’ve done this already, haven’t we?
So, anyway, stepping back from the record for a moment, there’s plenty of interesting material for considering the decline of Berry Gordy the songwriter, always to be looked at in tandem with the rise of Berry Gordy the music industry magnate. But that’s not the most fascinating story happening here; for that, we need to look at the lyrics.
On the face of it, the lyrics are another weak point here; every Marvin Gaye single so far had cast Marvin in a relatively sympathetic role, playing up his dashing good looks by having him promise his undying love, say, or vowing not to rest until he’s won your heart, that sort of thing. Try It Baby, taken at face value, comes across as a nasty, spiteful little song, a story of a successful and popular woman as told – in the second person, directly addressed to her – by her bitter, jealous boyfriend as he warns her not to get too full of herself. If she thinks she can make it without him, she’s got another thing coming (hence the title, which doubles as the chorus – so, you think you can make it on your own, do you? Try it, baby!)
It’s implied that Marvin’s narrator had a hand in her rise to fame (shades of the Human League’s Don’t You Want Me, or – a little closer to home – Holland-Dozier’s baffling What Goes Up Must Come Down), but it’s not spelled out so clearly, and the sheer disdain he shows is particularly unpleasant and manipulative – take away your good looks and your fancy clothes, and you’ll see / That nobody loves you but me…
Gaye’s narrator chastises the woman (the role in which we, the listener, have been cast) for being too busy for him, spending too much time with (it’s implied) other men. Perhaps it’s meant to be a gentle cautionary tale about not getting swept up by newfound fame, surrounded by false friends and phony showbiz hangers-on, making sure you don’t forget the people who really care about you – but it never really feels that way, making one wonder just waht Berry Gordy was trying to get Marvin to convey here. Except we don’t have to wnder, because Gordy made direct reference to this song in his 1994 autobiography To Be Loved (as quoted in the liner notes to The Complete Motown Singles: Volume 4 – I don’t actually have a copy of To Be Loved, it’s long since gone out of print amid a hail of lukewarm reviews, which says a lot about its place in the pantheon of classic showbiz memoirs). And here’s where I had to pause and re-read to make sure I had it right.
Gordy admits he had Diana Ross in mind when he wrote it. “I imagined a girl like her with a guy like me who was building and guiding her career. I envisioned this guy investing all of his time and effort in this girl, while at the same time falling in love with her. What if she got so big, so popular, so caught up in fame and fortune that she no longer had time for him?”
There are entire books to be written on the basis of just that one quote. Whether Berry was really obsessed by Diana Ross at this early stage (when the Supremes were very far from a first-rank act at Motown), or whether he was just getting his chronology muddled up years after the fact, is an interesting but subsidiary question here. But what sort of an insight does that quote provide into the workings of the man’s mind? Expressing a perfectly natural fear of rejection, of no longer being needed, by way of a defensive kiss-off, an act of self-protection, that makes Marvin’s narrator – who we can now safely call a proxy for at least some of Berry’s neuroses, expressing something Berry himself had considered if not experienced – seem like a man crippled by self-doubt and depression… that’s enough of an eye-opener before we even consider that he deliberately appended Diana Ross’ name to all this analysis, as if their relationship hadn’t already been subjected to some of the most intense scrutiny in showbiz history. Goodness me, Mr Gordy.
With all of that bubbling away under the surface, it’s a real disappointment that Try It Baby ends up sounding so conservative, so comfortable, far from the confessional and confrontational elements in (and behind) the lyrics. It sounds good, though – Marvin’s delivery may not pick out much of the angst and anxiety Gordy had put in, but he gives a smooth, confident performance, his voice dovetailing pleasingly with the Temptations’ smoothly interlocking backing vocals. There’s some good band work, too, including a great trumpet break that suggests the Funk Brothers were still continuing to move forward during the crucial winter of ’63/’64 regardless of what was put on the charts in front of them. The musicians turn in a strong performance despite the boss plainly now being behind the curve, the 4/4 tambourine/drum attack in the chorus especially arresting. But it all continually feels just a few bars away from collapsing into a late-night soft jazz club workout, noodling and vocalising without purpose, and the very blandness of the tune just drags everything down a notch, such that the impression this leaves on me, every time, is that it’s well put-together but slightly thin, even verging on boring – and if there’s one thing that a Marvin Gaye single should never, ever become, it’s boring.
So, one of the most interesting and intriguing back-stories of any Motown record ends up with a solid, stolid, forgettable little footnote in Marvin Gaye’s career. The crowds lapped it up anyway, giving this some respectable chart positions (helped, no doubt, by Marvin looking as handsome as ever on the picture sleeve), but this feels like less than the sum of its parts, and certainly less than should have resulted from its tortured inspiration.
VERDICT
* * * * * * * * * *
4 / 10
(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 Marvin Gaye? Click for more.)
Bobby Breen “Here Comes That Heartache” |
Marvin Gaye “If My Heart Could Sing” |
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Matt W. said:
Hmmm… I must say I’m surprised. I’m actually a huge fan of this one… a 7 or 8 for me, for sure. Am I alone? I love the bluesy vibe and the musicians’ performance and I think Marvin gives a tremendous vocal performance. I don’t mind when the protagonist of the lyrics isn’t likeable… for example, Don’t Answer the Door is one of my favorite B.B. King songs.
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mndean said:
This does seem a bit dated musically, but spiteful lyrics have been around for far too long for me to hold that against the song. The musicianship has been getting better and better, too, so it’s hard for me to give this even as low as a 5 because it’s not an anomalously bad song by a good writer (Hi, Smokey, you’ve got a couple of those upcoming), but an alright song by a writer who’s just not keeping up with the current trends, and Marvin sings it well. I give it 6 just for being dated otherwise I’d rate it higher.
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Dave L said:
( NOTE: I wrote these feelings before your review went up, so yes, I’m shocked, but it’s okay to disagree now and then 🙂 Wow! )
If a Motown 45 could have arrived in stores with a pair of testicles attached, this would have been the one to do it.
With nary an Andante, Vandella or Supreme anywhere near it, “Try It Baby” is one of the most thoroughly masculine records Motown every put out. Written and produced by a former boxer whom I’ll bet can still flex those fists at 81 today, lead sung by a masterful vocalist whose sex-symbol status is growing with each release. In turn, he’s backed up by a quintet of rising stars who never left any stage but drenched in testosterone-laden sweat.
This is a far trickier vocal to nail so perfectly than the relaxed end result reveals. If the protagonist is at all hesitant or unsure, he’ll sound like a wimp and we’ll be glad the girl’s well rid of him; too much confidence could foster an alienating arrogance, and we wouldn’t her with him either. But Marvin knows what he’s doing, and when he sings, I really want to hold you, baby, in my arms again, I believe him, and I want the girl to meet his “I dare you” challenge.
Then and now this is a terrific record, a solid ‘9’ from me. I love it.
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John Plant said:
A beautiful response, Dave L. Part of me is crying out ‘Where were you when ‘What’s the Matter With You, Baby’ was crying out for your defense??’ – Anyway, I really enjoyed (and heartily agreed with) your comments on this one. (Please insert smile emoticon here). Nixon, your analysis is stimulating as always… I begin to suspect that you’re hardest on the singers you really admire – if Bobby Breen had come out with a performance like this, I think your astonishment would have produced at least a 6. (My other suspicion is that you weigh the quality of the songwriting more heavily in the balance than most of us would – but even so, I think you’ve undervalued that aspect here. – The song is certainly redolent of many MOR classics, but it’s well crafted, and a perfect vehicle for MB.)
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John Plant said:
Oops, I mean MG!!!
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Dave L said:
P.S.
I don’t, either, believe this retroactive fitting of the song as any delineation of the Berry-Diana relationship. In the same book, To Be Loved, which I have read, Berry states that his relationship with Diana doesn’t go intimate until The Supremes successful visit to Paris in the spring of 1965.
In May of 1964, when “Try It Baby” came out, Diana Ross, as well as Mary Wilson and Florence Ballard, were nobodies.
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The Nixon Administration said:
Well, yes, and most of “To Be Loved” has been dismissed as unreliable (biased, bowdlerised or fictitious are words that seem to crop up quite frequently), and that’s why I treat that as a supplemental, superfluous question; it’s more what it shows about where Berry’s head was at the time of writing the book, if not necessarily the song. Like I said, entire books could be written about it.
While I’m here, I should clarify I’ve no problem at all with unsympathetic narrators, a rich tradition that’s led to several of my favourite pop records – I just think it was a miscalculation to give one of them to Marvin Gaye at this particular point in his career, and that he doesn’t act the part especially well (though I concede it’s sung beautifully.)
Yet again, I’m surprised by the high regard for this one – another eye opener, I suppose! Eagle eyed readers with long memories will recall I previously named Marvin as my favourite Motown artist, and it’s surely no secret he has some 10s coming (including a couple of picks I’m hoping come as a surprise!), but there is no universe in which this would come close for me. I forgot it even existed until it came up for review…!
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Dave L said:
My copy of the picture sleeve has the oldies drill hole right through Marvin’s forehead. Marvin Sr., of course, aimed at his son’s chest that awful day, but it’s still creepy. I have Wonder’s sleeve too for “Harmonica,” but many Tamla pictures from that summer got away from me (still): “Baby Don’t You Do It,” “I Like It Like That,” and the one makes me drool every time I encounter it on eBay, the gorgeous sleeve for “You’re My Remedy.” Damn, those women were looking fine that summer! 🙂 So eager for when you get to it.
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Ed Pauli said:
COME ON LET”S GET TO MOTOWN 1060 ALREADY HAHAHAHA!!!!!!!
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144man said:
The Motown 1060 backlash begins here!
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Anton Williams said:
Backlash on 1060, the record that put Motown on the world map?
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144man said:
Probably a backlash of one! See my comment to “You’re My Remedy”.
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144man said:
Well, it might sound dated now, but it certainly didn’t when it was first released. To be honest, it’s not sung in a style that I’d normally like, but somehow it just comes off. It’s the perfect synthesis between a show tune and a pop song, and I even enjoy singing along to it. One of my all-time favourite Marvin Gaye tracks [of which there are many]. I’ll give it 9.
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Dave L said:
Speaking of the Gordy memoir, I understand authors and publishers were after him for many years before To Be Loved finally appeared, and at least partially, it only happened because he was so displeased with what Raynoma Gordy Singleton had to say in Berry, Me & Motown (1991), that he wanted to ‘correct’ some of its impressions.
While I’ve never read the Singleton work, I too, found To Be Loved short on real depth. But it’s not the worst. That crown -so far- belongs to Ross’s 1993 “Secrets of a Sparrow.” If you haven’t wasted your money, don’t, unless you find it in a cut-out bin for less than five bucks, at the most. People Magazine promptly named it the worst non-fiction book of the year. It’s got a few worthwhile pictures but … that’s it.
On a last note about “Try It Baby,” if it had come out even six weeks later, maybe it could be taken as a hurried and harsh goodbye to Mary Wells, but with a release date of May 21, 1964, only eight days after Wells’ 21st birthday, I doubt it. And it’s much too early to be any kind of signal to Ross.
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ExGuyParis said:
Wow! I’m in the “at least an 8” club. I’ve always loved this song… elements of jazz, pop, Vegas, blues, funk, and even a bit of a country feel. It’s mellow cool, Rat Pack style. The piano is superb, and there is some fine guitar work. And who could imagine a better back-up group?
And then later the pumped-up version by the Supremes & Temptations… sweet! It’s cool when the backups step up front.
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Matt W. said:
Does it really matter whether it sounded “dated”? Let’s be honest here. Every single we’ve reviewed thus far sounds dated in 2011. Does it make sense to adjust the degree to which we value a song because it came out in 1964 but sounded like it came from 1962 or 1963? In 2011, what difference does it make? Either you enjoy listening to the song or you don’t.
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The Nixon Administration said:
It’s an interesting question, and one where I’ve scratched the surface on previous entries (e.g. Two Lovers, Quicksand).
I’m a great believer in the theory that popular music has been democratised by the digital marketplace, erasing distinctions between what was a single and what wasn’t, what was a hit and what wasn’t and so on – it’s all the same to a 12-year-old kid loading up iTunes today.
So, by all reasonable standards, the answer should be “no, of course it doesn’t make any difference” – and yet it very definitely does, to me at least, for no good reason I can put my finger on.
I think perhaps it’s exaggerated in my case because I’m listening to these records in the context of what other Motown releases were around at the time, and so water-treading or artistic steps backward are more noticeable, maybe? I don’t know. But it bears further thought in a future entry (and I think I know just which one, too.)
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Jason said:
I first heard Try It Baby in ’77. I was 5 years old at the time. I had no idea who wrote it, but I loved that song. The harmony, horns, & Marvin Gaye.
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Ed Pauli said:
Right Matt—I’ll take even this drivel over Lady Antegaga or Justin “Beaver” or whatever scantily clad bimbo with an abusive druggie boyfriend is on top of the charts this week–IMHO the worst Motown record is still Biggest Parakeets in Town by Jud Strunk [Melodyland 1975]
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The Nixon Administration said:
As I said the last time you raised this particular horror (when discussing The Interview, my own personal pick for ‘worst Motown record of all time’:
“Oh, that’s pretty darned bad, don’t get me wrong (it’s essentially Jud stretching an incredibly weak double entendre* for what feels like eight mirthless minutes, whilst doing a feeble George Formby impersonation)… but it is at least a song, albeit a terrible one. This, on the other hand, is just horrific.
* (The amusing thing, of course, is that he could almost be talking about her breasts.)“
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Anton Williams said:
Disappointed that you gave it a low grade…for me this was the first Marvin Gaye record that turned me on to him, probably because of the sexy innuendos plus the jazzy backdrop…and I still have the single. I guess I’m also one of the few who love his attempts to break into the MOR field. Love his “Live at the Copa”.
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The Nixon Administration said:
Thanks Anton. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m obviously in a minority – which is kind of the point of having these comment sections completely open. Mine is just one opinion, no more valid than anyone else’s; in this case, apparently somewhat out of step with almost everyone else’s!
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ned lauderdale said:
try it baby is one of the greatest song of all time. voice,music and lyric just fanstatic!
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ThinPaperWings said:
Never heard this before. I’d give it a 5. I think Marvin’s performance is good and the band plays well, but the chorus melody/chord arrangement just doesn’t hook me at all.
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The Nixon Administration said:
Listen to ThinPaperWings, everyone! 🙂
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Casey said:
The standard for a black male singer at that time had been set by Nat King Cole, and to a lesser extent by Johnny Mathis. As mentioned above, it’s well known that Marvin disliked “Hitchhike” and several other of his earlier hits. This was likely just a way for Berry to satisfy his brother-in-law’s desire for more adult material.
Also, at this time for Motown the holy grail was not to play to black audiences at the Graystone Ballroom or the Regal Theater in Chicago, but rather to play for white people at The Copa in NYC or the Fontainbleu in Miami. A hit record like this would have certainly helped.
But having said that, I actually think the version by DR & Supremes and The Tempts is far superior, and was a Top 40 hit in the States.
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Landini said:
Yeah buddy! The Supremes/Tempts version is pretty cool. Love the exchange between Mel Franklin & Diana Ross. On the subject of Motown reaching white audiences/Copa etc… I understand wanting to expand Motown’s audience, but I also didn’t care for the majority of recordings that were a result of this…. I mean “The Supremes sing & perform Funny Girl?” Gimmie a break. I saw a few Motown acts in concert in the late 60s/early 70s (Temptations, Miracles, D Ross/Supremes) I was a pre-teen at the time & expected their concerts would be full of their hits but they were instead full of show tunes/standards with most of the hits relegated to medleys. I do remember Smokey doing “Theme from Love Story” & a girl in my row shrieking. Pretty funny. I actually really like the Temptations early 90’s album “For Lovers Only” which was mostly standards – but they were done in a very appealing Quiet Storm style which fit the current group’s lineup. That was the last album Mel Franklin did with them before he died.
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Hans Pfaall said:
I’d give this a slightly above-average rating. If 5 is average, I’d give it a 6. This is a decent number, but ultimately not one of Gaye’s best. Gaye was a great singer, and most responsible for my above average rating. Despite his vocal’s tasteful fluctuating dynamics, the tune itself is a bit bland, sounding like a more generic slowed-down variation on the “Pride and Joy” melody. The backing track has some nice bluesy guitar fills not usually heard on a Motown single, however.
The protagonist in this song is not too likable (as others have noted), but this is not always a bad thing by any means. The subject of this song certainly could lend itself to a fine story line, but the lyrics (while not bad) could have been better.
Speaking of protagonists that are not too nice, I can’t wait until we get to “First I Look At The Purse” by the Contours. Awesome lyrics on that one!
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The Nixon Administration said:
(“The Nixon Administration liked this”)
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Byron said:
Ok, I read all the comments and ratings for this song. WOW I am so glad you have never met my Mother or Mother – IN Law , they both loved this song, would listen to it constantly and could dance or sway to it all day if you let them. I must have been 14 or 15 at that time , it was not played a lot at our house parties but listened to , enjoyed, and sung a lot in the privacy of our homes. All of my friends loved this song . I personally loved it. None of us knew at the time that this song was a warning to a future superstar but in the book “Dreamgirls” by Mary Wilson she gives a direct reference to Diana’s unrelenting interest in Berry Gordy. Mary stated that while she was so taken back by Tom Jones she could never understand Diana’s attraction and interest in Berry, this short nothing man as she stated. But later she realized the interest, and it had nothing to do with his height, looks or former boxing ability.. It was his Power !. Berry was the boss, Diana wanted stardom, she knew he could get that for her. Berry moved Diana to the front stating that her voice and singing style was far more commercial and appealing to ” Young America”. A move I think was brilliant. Berry could make you or your group Superstars or back up singers for life. He had the power and Diana knew it. Though the Supremes were still nobodies at the time, Berry had a vision and a goal that included Diana, he knew how to make stars, he knew the Supremes potential with Diana at the forefront. “Try it Baby” in my opinion was a early warning to a soon to be star, one that we all know paid no attention to the warning.
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Gordon Frewin said:
Thank you Byron. Your comment should be required reading for all those who’ve put up a comment previously, on this thread.
Speculation over the years has invariably put the lead singer of The Supremes into the frame, as the intended recipient of the “advice” in the song, we all know that, and whether that’s right or wrong has never really been questioned.
My personal belief is that the timeframe does not fit the accepted explanation – simply The Supremes were not on the radar yet, as rising stars, let alone risen superstars.
So what else MIGHT fit???
Motown, precisely at this time, were pre-occupied with keeping Mary Wells problem-free and in the recording studio and, above all else, signed to the company, and it would be entirely appropriate for duet-partner Marvin, whether knowingly or not, to somehow be involved in this particular task. But really, that’s just more speculation.
I take a broader view of what this song is all about. I prefer to lay it at the door of no particular artist, and see “Try It Baby” as advice (or even a warning, call it what you want) for all those artists who are having the incredible experience of seeing themselves at the top end of the record charts (and all that comes with it), TO KEEP YOUR FEET ON THE GROUND GUYS (or GIRLS).
On a more personal level, I’ve always loved Marvin’s original of “Try It Baby” – it’s a 9 in my book – not a 4 – Mr. Nixon it’s clearly gone over your head to give it a score so low. Actually I’m quite shocked, but I say that with a smile on my face and hope that you come to appreciate it more over the years. I loved it then, I love it even more now.
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The Nixon Administration said:
“Clearly gone over my head”…? What has gone over my head, in your opinion?
It’s a genuine question. I considered all of the various points you raise when writing my review, and I’ve listened to the record plenty since this avalanche of disagreement, but I still stand steadfastly by everything I wrote up there – it is fascinating, sure, but for me the fascination is nearly all extra-textual, and even then the question of who (if anyone) it’s specifically about is very much a secondary one – the real stories here are things like Berry Gordy losing his place as a key songwriter but still writing a song about not forgetting who put you where you are, Berry Gordy (much) later appending Diana Ross’ name to the thing and what that tells us about both Gordy and Motown in the Sixties, and so forth – rather than what’s actually on the disc.
When it comes to what’s actually on the disc, I agree with Hans – it’s Pride and Joy taken at half speed, the tune doesn’t do anything, Marvin’s not a good casting choice to portray this unsympathetic character, the musicians are the ones who come away with most credit. Some records I listen to after I’ve reviewed them and think “ooh, I was a bit (soft/hard – delete as appropriate) on this, if I was writing about it today it would be a seven” or something. With Try It Baby, every time I listen to it, four seems exactly right for me.
I’m fine with all this dissent, it being encouraged and all, so I don’t want this comment to be taken as me spluttering with indignation that someone has disagreed – I’m just curious about your final paragraph, where you seem to suggest there’s something I’ve either failed to noticed or failed to properly grasp. Would you mind clarifying what you think that is?
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The Nixon Administration said:
(Cuh, that sounds really confrontational – it’s not meant to. Short version: “What have I missed?”)
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Gordon Frewin said:
Clearly, your forensic analysis of the song elements, have I think, spoilt your enjoyment of the whole, and especially of Marvin’s contribution.
Back in the day, most of us bought records we’d heard (on the radio, TV),
not bought them through reading about them, in the music press. It was, and still is, for many, the audio / aural experience, that is more important than anything else.
it is for me. I am not alone – others think this way too.
Hope this helps, I’ve tried to explain it in the simplest possible terms, but of course we may agree to differ… it’s no big deal.
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The Nixon Administration said:
Of course we can agree to disagree! That’s what this blog is for (in the sense of both raison d’être and support) – I always say dissent is encouraged, and I mean it. I love reading people’s opinions, whether or not they align with my own. There’ll never be any hard feelings on my part if I give something 10 and someone else thinks it’s a 1, or vice versa.
But I still don’t really understand what you’re driving at – you seem to think I’ve come to this all hyped up from reading around it, and then been disappointed when finally listening to it (and certainly I can see how the structure of the review and some of my phrasing could lead to that conclusion!), whereas “back in the day” people didn’t have instant access to a potentially smothering amount of information, and only had the music to go on. If this is right, it makes me smile, because nothing could be further from the truth.
Maybe if I explain how I do these reviews – not just for you, for anyone who’s interested! – it might avert some potential misunderstandings in the future.
The reviews are written in the order they go up. Unless it’s something really well-known and I can see it approaching from miles away – meaning I get a chance to think about a record ahead of time – most of my “reviewing” is done away from the computer. It normally consists of me listening to my TCMS playlist on my iPod while walking to and from work, meetings, appointments, trips to the shops, whatever. There’s no context at all; I can tell you what order, say, Where Did Our Love Go, Baby Love and I Hear A Symphony should go in, but I don’t know whether Baby Don’t You Do It predates What Good Am I Without You, I don’t know off the top of my head (until I come to write about it) who sang Feel Alright Tonight, I don’t know who wrote Guarantee For A Lifetime, and maybe most importantly, I don’t usually know what was a hit and what wasn’t, what’s well-regarded and what isn’t. I’ll listen to a song when it comes up, form an initial opinion just as if I heard it on the radio, I’ll listen to it again a few more times – a lot more times, usually – and gradually I’ll come up with some observations, make some notes in my little notebook, listen again, repeat, rinse, and eventually settle on a rough mark. Then, and only then, do I start reading around the subject – start with the TCMS liner notes, look at my painstakingly-compiled database for writer credits, chart information etc., search the Internet and go through some of my books for both facts/trivia (always useful) and opinions (always fascinating, but not always available). And then, finally, I sit down with my little notebook of observations, facts/trivia and opinions, and I start writing the review. The whole process is both very long and very short – I rarely spend more than an hour physically sat down writing these things, but I’ll usually have spent a long time over the preceding few days living with the record, seeing if it grabs me on play 1, seeing if it still works on play 20, on play 50, seeing if I wake up one day with a new or different thought, or a new angle from which to approach the review.
The point is, it’s very rare that my initial perception of a record is knowingly coloured by the surrounding ephemera. Often, as with this one, I’m completely unaware that a record is apparently held in high regard, or total contempt; the marks are all me, and they can change quite unexpectedly on the day I sit down to write. This one didn’t; not only did I forget it existed until it hoved into view, but every time I listened to it, whether on iPod or home stereo, I thought of it as exceedingly average, either a step backward or a spinning-the-wheels affair – a “forgettable little footnote”, as I called it, and how wrong I apparently was! It was only on reading up on it that all the fascinating background issues started to emerge, which made it a surprise this wasn’t more, well, interesting to listen to.
You say “It was, and still is, for many, the audio / aural experience, that is more important than anything else” – it is for me, that’s the only reason I do this. I share how a record moves me (or not!), and then sit back and see what other people think of it. If I come across as someone who’s been unduly influenced by things that aren’t actually there to be heard on the record, I’ve obviously written a bad review, because that’s literally the exact opposite of what I was trying to say with this one.
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The Nixon Administration said:
Oh for goodness’ sake, WordPress, stop squashing the text into a tiny unreadable column…!
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Gordon Frewin said:
Fascinating stuff, how reviews can be put together. That’s down to whatever works best, for the reviewer. There is no right way, there is no wrong way. It’s whatever works.
And as I said earlier, I really hope you come to appreciate “Try It Baby” better over time. Some people like it… a lot. You like… not a lot.
That’s really all there is to it.
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The Nixon Administration said:
Well, I listened to it again this morning (via shuffle!), after a gap of a few months, and I did actually like it a bit better. I still wouldn’t rate it highly, but I do feel I was being a little bit stingy now.
Will be interested to know what people make of Marvin’s next single when we get there shortly – I’ve certainly formed an opinion…!
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Byron said:
I think we are forgetting the timeline … in 1964 the Supremes were finally charting with “Where did Our Love Go” and “Baby Love” back to back number 1’s. Diana was leading and the group was definately on their way to Stardom. No longer called that NO Hit Supremes with 2 number 1’s. I can almost bet by this time Diana’s affection for Berry had cooled and she was enjoying her status as lead singer of the now known… ” Foot Stomping Hit Making Supremes”. Come See About Me” was their third number one hit in a row , I can bet that Diana was now getting very cocky and hard to handle. Thus … ” Try iIt Baby” was born ! Just a speculation on my part of course. Try it baby is certainly a 9 with me , 4 does not do the song justice.
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The Nixon Administration said:
You are indeed forgetting the timeline; Where Did Our Love Go wasn’t released until Try It Baby had been in the shops for a month (having been sat in the can since January); Baby Love was released in September, Come See About Me in October. The various relationships between Berry Gordy, Motown, the Supremes and Diana Ross can all be debated ad infinitum, but it’s impossible for this to have been written as a reaction to something that hadn’t happened yet.
As for the marks, to each their own as far as I’m concerned – as I said elsewhere, if you all love this, more power to you, and I’m jealous I’m apparently not hearing the same things you all are! 🙂
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Byron said:
Ok, it seems like we can argue timelines, who the song was meant for and the rating forever. I ‘ll just say its good that we can agree to disagree, to me thats the best part of this site.
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treborij said:
I brought up the idea of Berry’s productions not quite measuring up to Smokey, HDH and others back with Liz Lands’ Midnight Johnny. It was a derivative record and it seemed almost out of time. I never heard it before I bought the TCMS 64 set and I really love the record. But it clearly sounds retro in the context of its contemporary surroundings.
When Try It Baby came out, I think I was about 12. I’d already bought Witness and Wonderful One. I was looking forward to the next Marvin Gaye record and was really disappointed when I heard Try It Baby. I thought it sounded like old people’s music. Almost sounded like jazz (ugh). (Keep in mind it’s a 12 year old’s taste.) I never bought it. I grew to like it when I got the first Marvin Gaye GH. But listening to it with mature ears and realilzing it’s a Berry Gordy production it really does sound dated compared to the two previous singles. I think a 6 is about right on this one.
And to move the story along, I did wind up buying the next Marvin record (Baby Don’t You Do It). It took me where Try It Baby couldn’t. As did most of the rest of his singles.
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W.B. said:
I did notice that the arrangement and structure of the first two (?) lines of each verse, up to the point where The Temptations chimed in on “pretty baby,” seemed to have been the template for the “I wanna stop / And thank you baby” part of Marvin’s later hit “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You).”
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bogart4017 said:
A strong 8. I have to agree its slightly out of step with whats going on around it but thats retrospective thinking. At the time i heard it at a party and really liked it so i went out and purchased it. It works a little differently than your critical thinking which i love so much that i now can’t hear Motown without taking it apart. I’ve contracted the disease!!!! Save Me!
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benjaminblue said:
Maybe the woman in question was Berry’s sister, Marvin’s wife, who may have become quite full of herself in that she had won herself a trophy husband and was suddenly feeling quite powerful, controlling not only Marvin’s life but dictating when he was or wasn’t going to be available to Motown, perhaps deciding which writers/producers he would work with and so on. Maybe Berry saw his sister usurping some or all of his company, complicating the depression he felt also in seeing others surpass him as the best in-house songwriters and producers. Maybe Berry saw his dreams collapsing all around him because of a dominant woman who seemed to be threatening to wrest his livelihood away from him before he really made his mark.
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Kevin Moore said:
If I’d read your fascinating analysis of the lyrics before looking at the composer credit, I would have guessed Herman Griffin!
You analysis of the decline of Berry Gordy the songwriter is even more fascinating. I think his biggest limitation as a writer was his lack of harmonic skill, leaving him unable to keep up as pop made such a quantum leap in that area. Smokey only had a little more harmonic skill than Gordy but was such a genius with melody and lyrics that it didn’t much matter and he was able to get more sophisticated as the competition did (e.g., My Guy). But HDH, or HD I guess, or maybe just D, not only kept up, they even helped push the envelope (e.g., Reach Out has a harmonic trick that even Wilson, McCartney, and Bacharach hadn’t come up with). HDH of course reused that particular trick, as was Motown’s modus operandi, but it was good for a hell of a lot of mileage because it was so amazingly fresh.
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Robb Klein said:
I’ve never been a big fan of this song, and rate it as a run-of-the-mill Marvin Gaye cut. But that puts it at about a 6.7 t0 7.2 rating, as opposed to a measly “4”. You’ve give 5 and, I believe, even a 6 to Bobby Breen, so I’ve got to question your rating methods. But we’ve been over that argument several times already, so we can just leave it that we agree to disagree on our differing taste. But, man, I’ve got a lot of people on this thread agreeing with me.
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Abbott Cooper said:
As I have mentioned in a few previous comments, I haven’t read the books and therefore know not of the existence of printed evidence of whether Marvin ever stated his feelings regarding how much he did or didn’t enjoy recording this song. In Nixon”s own words, in his review above, Nixon indicates that this song was “softer, more palatable” and “closer to Marvin’s light entertainment preferences.” Also it was “so conservative, so comfortable.” And yet IT WAS A HIT! A BIG HIT!! Number 6 R&B; Number 15 Pop! OK, it wasn’t a standard, but I suggest, not having any evidence, as noted above, to the contrary, that Marvin was extremely happy with this production. Given the failures of his past MOR efforts, I think that Mr. Gaye could look upon this side as a sign of redemption for his cause and the kinds of recordings with which he wished to attach his name. It doesn’t matter whether we wish to award it a “4” or a “9” or anything in between or outside this range. This is a song where Marvin could say to Berry, “You see? This stuff CAN sell.”
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(solo)diana-ross-don't-groove said:
I always liked the crooning and jazzy feel of this song, with Marvin Gaye’s smooth singing and the trumpet solo at the half of the song. For me, 4/10 is definitely cruel !
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Tony Moore said:
Am I really the only one who noticed that the first lines are nearly identical to the theme song from The Jeffersons?
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