Showing posts with label Progressive Soul. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Progressive Soul. Show all posts

Sunday, 20 September 2026

The 500 - #90 - Talking Book - Stevie Wonder

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.



Album: #90

Album Title: Talking Book

Artist: Stevie Wonder

Genre: Progressive Soul, Funk, Soul, Jazz

Recorded: 4 Studios - New York, Hollywood, Los Angeles, London

Released: October, 1972

My age at release: 7

How familiar was I with it before this week: Fairly

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #112 - dropping 21 spots

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Superstition

There are times when sticking to your principles can be a real pain. Case in point, Stevie Wonder recently announced that he and his band are going on tour, and not just any Stevie Wonder tour. He is celebrating the 50th anniversary of Songs in the Key of Life, with dates in New York, Chicago, and Detroit, a city a mere 200 km from my home. As of now, though, there is no Toronto date. No Montreal date. In fact, no Canadian date at all.
Detroit is tantalizingly close and, under normal circumstances, my friend Terry and I would be checking the calendar and figuring out dinner options in Motown. But these are not normal circumstances.

I've decided that until relations between Canada and the United States improve I'm going to avoid travelling to the U.S. and spending my money there. I don't pretend that missing a Stevie Wonder concert will register as the faintest blip on the American economy. My principled boycott won’t make anybody in Washington lose sleep. It's simply something I feel I need to do.
Let me be really clear: This isn't about Americans generally but their current federal government. Over the decades, I have met many wonderful Americans, some of whom I’m honoured to call friends. Additionally, I love visiting the United States where my godmother has lived for many years. I've crossed the border hundreds of times, attending concerts and sporting events, or just sightseeing and shopping. The accumulated memories of these visits have found their way into more than a few of these blog posts. Heck, my wife and I got married in New York City in 2006 and more than 40 members of our family and friends joined us, some extending their visit for a whole week.
Me and my lovely bride - August 18, 2006 in Battery Park, NYC.
My frustration is with the current American administration and, in particular, the way it has insulted and inflicted economic damage on my country, let alone the harm it has wreaked upon its own population.

Donald Trump has repeatedly floated the idea of Canada becoming the 51st state and mockingly referred to our former prime minister, Justin Trudeau, as a "governor." He has also transferred the slight to our current prime minister, Mark Carney.
More recently, he signed an executive order instructing the American government to refer to Lake Ontario as "Lake America." That one strikes particularly close to home. Ontario isn't merely the name of the province where I live. The name has Indigenous roots and was being used centuries before either Canada or the United States existed.
Lake Ontario Map from 1774, two years before U.S independence.
Then there's the ongoing argument over trade. Trump decided not to renew the USMCA in its current form and has criticized what it sees as shortcomings in the treaty.. How ironic considering the USMCA was negotiated during Trump's first administration and he hailed it as "the best agreement we've ever made."
Trump, flanked by Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto
and Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, signing
the USMCA agreement in 2018.
Our current prime minister, Mark Carney, recently summed up the problem rather neatly when he said: "We've recognized from the start that America has changed. We recognized that sometimes its signature was written in pencil." When a deal negotiated and celebrated by the same president can suddenly become a deal his administration no longer wants to stand behind, Carney's pencil metaphor seems particularly apt.
So, for now, I'm staying on my side of Lake Ontario and remain hopeful about two things. The first is that relations between our countries thaw, that the anger and insults stop, and that good neighbourly relations are restored to the way they have been for centuries.
At the moment, I'm not terribly optimistic. Yet I wonder whether Stevie’s touring team may look at his schedule and think: “You know what? we haven't scheduled Toronto, Ottawa or Montreal.” Odds are Terry and his wife, Heather, would happily join Angela and me on a road trip if seeing Stevie was in the mix.

And with that, I’ll climb off my political soapbox to reflect on Stevie Wonder’s second record of 1972, Talking Book. The first was Music Of My Mind, which was released earlier that same year.
A second hit record in one calendar year sounds impressive enough. Then I realized that these were his 14th and 15th releases by an artist who was just 22 years old.

Twenty-Two!

When I was 22, I was still living in my parent’s basement. Sure, I was going to University and had a couple part-time jobs, but no one is talking about my creative output and groundbreaking innovations 50 years later…and I have the benefit of sight.
Me at 22, lifeguard by day, Pizza delivery driver by night.
We have actually been here before. Back in December, 2022, when I was still pushing my way through #285 on this decade-long journey through the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, I wrote about Music of My Mind. In that post, I spent some time on Stevie’s remarkable childhood and his emergence as the extravagantly talented “Little Stevie Wonder.” More importantly for what was coming next, I wrote about his discovery of the enormous TONTO synthesizer, created by Malcolm Cecil and Robert Margouleff. Stevie had become fascinated by synthesizers, and Cecil and Margouleff would work with him through some of the most creative years of his career.

Side Note: Margouleff is the guest on the accompanying episode of The 500 Podcast and, while promoting his autobiography, shares his experiences working with Stevie as well as a comprehensive look at that revolutionary technology. For music engineering or synthesizer nerds, it is a rewarding deep dive.
Another mind-blowing realization comes when one remembers that Wonder is not just a singer and piano player. On both of these 1972 records, he wrote the songs, produced the albums and played virtually every instrument himself. The music, the lyrics, the arrangements, the keyboards, the drums, the harmonica and ideas to create those strange new synthesizer sounds were pouring out of a kid.
Wonder in studio recording Talking Book.
There is something almost Mozart-like about him. Not because their processes were necessarily the same, but because I find the idea of all that music existing inside one person's head fascinating. Stevie couldn't sit at a piano with a blank piece of manuscript paper in front of him and casually scribble down an idea in the conventional way. He had to hear it, remember it, build it, play it and communicate it. Melody, harmony, rhythm, words and arrangement could all exist in his imagination before the rest of us ever got to hear them. Thus, the album before Talking Book was aptly named Music Of My Mind.

And, incredibly, Stevie was just getting warmed up.

Music of My Mind and Talking Book kicked off what is now widely referred to as Stevie Wonder's classic period, five critically acclaimed albums released in less than five years.
  • Music of My Mind (1972) (#285 on The 500)
  • Talking Book (1972) (#90 on The 500)
  • Innervisions (1973) (#24 on The 500)
  • Fulfillingness' First Finale (1974) (Grammy Award for Album of the year
  • Songs in the Key of Life (1976) (#57 on The 500) and Grammy Award for Album of the year
That's not merely a good stretch. That's an athlete entering the zone and then somehow staying there for five seasons. Imagine a ballplayer hitting .350, winning the batting title, coming back the next year and doing it again, then looking around and deciding he might as well steal some bases, hit a bunch of home runs and win the league MVP a few times while he's at it. Stevie was on one of those runs, like Gretzky, Woods, Jordan, Williams, Ali or Brady, whose greatness literally became the expectation.

Originally, this was going to be my angle for this blog. I was going to investigate other artists who had enjoyed an incredible run of consecutive releases. In fact, I’ve been researching and mulling it over for a few weeks. Then Stevie announced his tour, without a Canadian date, and my frustration sent me in a different direction. Oh well. I’ll save that topic for either Songs In The Key Of Life or Innervisions, in 2027, which should coincide nicely with the start of the next U.S. presidential primary season. By then, perhaps I’ll have two things to look forward to: Another great Stevie Wonder album to write about and the possibility of a rapprochement in Canada-U.S. relations. And renewed trips across the border.

Help me out if you can?

What is your favourite four- or five-album consecutive run by a musician or band?
It doesn’t need to be critically acclaimed, just your own personal list.






Sunday, 25 December 2022

The 500 - #285- Music Of My Mind - Stevie Wonder

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 



Album: #285

Album Title: Music Of My Mind

Artist: Stevie Wonder

Genre: Progressive Soul

Recorded: Three Studios in New York and Los Angeles

Released: March, 1972

My age at release: 6

How familiar was I with it before this week: A little

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at 350, dropping 65 places since 2012

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Evil

Given the unique name Stevland Hardaway Judkins in Saginaw, Michigan, the future music legend who became known to the world as Stevie Wonder arrived six weeks premature on May 13, 1950. The oxygen-rich atmosphere of the incubator saved his life, but also resulted in retinopathy that robbed him of his vision.
The Judkins family moved to Detroit, Michigan, in 1954 and Stevie took an early interest in music, singing at his church and playing piano, harmonica and drums. In 1961, aged 11, Stevie sang his first composition, a song called Lonely Boy, to Ronnie White of the group The Miracles. White was so impressed, he took the young warbler to meet Berry Gordy, the founder of Motown Records. Stevland Hardaway Judkins was re-branded "Little Stevie Wonder" and, before he was a teenager, he released three records, including the hit single Fingertips -- making him the youngest person to have a #1 song on the Billboard charts.
Little Stevie Wonder The 12 year old genius album cover
Music of My Mind was his 14th release, a remarkable achievement because he was only 21. Typically, aspiring musicians of that age are crafting their first record, not their 14th. However, more importantly, the record marked a new phase in the multi-instrumentalist's career. He had recently signed a new contract with Motown Records to give him complete artistic control over his music. Modern music critics consider this the start of  Wonder's classic period, which ran from 1972 until 1979. His output included three other records on The 500 list, all in the top 100 –Talking Book (#90), Songs In The Key Of Life (#57) and Inversions (#24).
Music of My Mind also marked the start of Wonder's foray into the  world of electronic music for which he recruited two pioneers in the genre, Malcom Cecil and Robert Margouleff, to make use of their TONTO synthesizer set-up. TONTO, an acronym for The Original New Timbrel Orchestra was. at the time, the largest and most sophisticated analog synthesizer in the world. Compared with today’s miniaturized technology, the  electronic network was housed in six-metre-long curving wood cabinets nearly two metres high.
The TONTO analog synthesizer system
I've been a fan of Wonder's music since age 11 when I first heard the infectious catchy horn section that opens the song Sir Duke from the aforementioned Song In The Key Of Life. In the ‘80s Wonder seemed omnipresent in the world of popular music, enjoying tremendous commercial success as both a solo artist and collaborator. His music became a little too "adult contemporary" for me in the ‘80s and my interest in him faded somewhat.
However, in 2021 I came across some of his earlier music, triggered by the appearance of Wonder songs on the soundtracks of two television programs.

The first program was an eight-part series titled 1971: The Year That Music Changed Everything. This documentary juxtaposed the music of the period against the cultural and political upheaval of a particularly tumultuous year in contemporary history. It was, after all, the time of Vietnam War protests, the rise of Black Power movement, the rise of Feminism and the release of the Pentagon Papers.
In the fifth episode, Wonder's song, If You Really Loved Me, from the album Where I'm Coming From, galvanized my attention. Immediately, I thought, "I should be listening to more early Stevie Wonder.'' The next day, my headphones and Spotify account got a workout as much as I did physically doing yard chores.
I delved into Wonder’s early classic period. It so happened that a few nights later Wonder's music was on my television again – that of  Atlanta, the brilliant, comedy/drama/social satire series by multi-talented Donald Glover.
Episode six of season two of Atlanta, entitled Teddy Perkins, took another unexpected turn, veering into the world of psychological horror. In the episode, things turn strange as the easy-going Darius attempted to pick up a piano from the home of an eccentric and reclusive man, Teddy Perkins.
The episode is book-ended brilliantly by two tracks from Wonder's Music From My Mind. As the opening credits play, the episode begins with Sweet Little Girl, a harmonica-driven song that seems, at first, like a playful, innocent love song. However, darker and more sinister overtones emerge.

The episode ends with the track Evil, a melancholy number that makes full use of the new keyboard technology Wonder was testing. The song posed a series of questions directed at an unseen, and seemingly uncaring, artifice of evil.
Atlanta's Music supervisor, Jen Malone, told Variety that Stevie Wonder had to be convinced by the show’s creator, Donald Glover, to allow Evil to be included in the episode due to the troubling nature of the content.
"Donald had to get on the phone with Stevie and we were all very intrigued about what went on on that phone call. But we ended up getting the song and it was just such a perfect musical moment."
If you haven't had the chance to explore Atlanta or Stevie Wonder's earlier catalogue, I recommend it highly.  In the words of Teddy Perkins, they are both "Flames".