511. The Miracles: “Come On Do The Jerk”
A waste of the talents of everyone involved, wafer-thin and surprisingly ill-suited to its lead singer; even Smokey isn’t taking this seriously, so there’s really no reason we should bother. (3)
A waste of the talents of everyone involved, wafer-thin and surprisingly ill-suited to its lead singer; even Smokey isn’t taking this seriously, so there’s really no reason we should bother. (3)
Completely out of character for the group – if you were asked to identify these guys on sound alone, “the Contours” would be the absolute last answer you’d give – but no worse for it. Nice surprises are the best kind of surprises, after all. (7)
It’s hardly Carolyn’s fault that Robinson opted to give the song another go after two more years of polishing, with two more years of experience, and that the singer he chose went on to become one of the label’s most beloved and skilful interpreters. It’s just bad luck, I suppose. (4)
It’s still a good song, and it still makes for a good record – but the existence of a better previous version means this is reduced to being a bit of a pointless do-over. (5)
Fine work, and as second chances go, at least this time Mickey couldn’t complain that he wasn’t given a great song. (7)
One of Motown’s biggest personalities and one of Motown’s biggest voices, and they’re utterly wasted on this thin little sketch, a failed proof of concept intended for two entirely different people; it’s like giving Cézanne a paint by numbers and some chunky crayons. (3)
There isn’t any more after this, I’m afraid, and so it’s up to us to squeeze as much entertainment as possible from these last dregs. Which, it turns out, is actually quite a bit of entertainment, all things considered. (4)
Too slow and gentle, and (more importantly) too meandering, for commercial success, and lacking the killer hook to take it to the very top level – but it’s beautiful and it’s honest, and if a record has those things going for it, you can’t really say too much against it. (7)
This is a water-treading, wheel-spinning entry in the Miracles catalogue, pleasant enough but lacking everything that made me love I Like It Like That, and if anyone were to tell me this was their favourite Miracles record, I’d be deeply suspicious. (5)
The whole thing is just a chore to listen to, a massive comedown after the rush of the A-side. (2)
It’s memorable and striking, but also jarringly misaligned; if it’s less of a mess, in its own way, than the half-hearted A-side, it’s still not as good as it should be, sounding unfinished and underproduced, even shambolic in places. (4)