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.

The 500 - #93 - Sign O' The Times - Prince

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: #93

Album Title: Sign O' The Times

Artist: Prince

Genre: Funk, Soul, R&B, Rock, Avant-Pop

Recorded: Multiple Studios

Released: March, 1987

My age at release: 21

How familiar was I with it before this week: Several songs

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #45 - rising 48 spots

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Sign O' The Times

As an educator, I am always chasing the perfect school year. I suspect most teachers do the same. Perfection in the classroom, however, is not necessarily defined by the highest grades or the fewest challenges.

It is the year when everything seems to click. The curriculum feels alive, students are excited and engaged, relationships are strong and the classroom becomes imbued with creativity, laughter, curiosity and growth through learning.

In this ideal environment, students all get along, avoiding the social drama that often befalls adolescents; they collaborate respectfully and productively. The teacher leaves work exhausted, but it is the satisfying kind of exhaustion that comes from knowing he or she is doing exactly what they were meant to do.

Of course, teaching rarely unfolds according to plan. External factors can quickly alter the trajectory of a promising year. Contract disputes, difficult parent interactions, administrative changes, staffing reorganizations, or even a global pandemic can derail momentum.

Sometimes, the obstacles come from within. Lessons that looked brilliant on paper fail to connect. Classroom dynamics never quite develop as hoped. A teacher can spend months refining a series of engaging, creative lessons only to have them met with unimpressed, blank stares. Sometimes it takes months to connect with a group of students, and a few "Negative Nancys" can steer others away from success, torpedoing lessons and activities with their resistance, cynicism and disengagement.

Even so, most teachers can identify a few years that stand above the rest. For me, one of those years was 2004-05 with a Grade 8 class at Lorne Avenue Public School in London, Ontario. Another was 2016-17 at Eagle Heights Public School. That year actually began with considerable uncertainty. I started with a Grade 5/6 split class before a school reorganization in October forced everyone to start over.
In many ways, it felt like building a classroom community twice within the span of a few months. Yet the class that emerged from that upheaval was exceptional. The students were funny, adventurous, creative and eager to learn. Looking back, it remains one of the most enjoyable years of my career.

The challenge with a year like that is not surviving it but surmounting the obstacles. Once you have experienced a truly satisfactory year, it becomes the measuring stick for every year that follows. Whether admitting it or not, with the onset of the following school year, teachers hope lightning strikes twice. We are encouraged by memories of spontaneous moments of humour, class discussions that took on a life of their own, and the projects that exceeded every expectation. We become convinced that if we work hard enough, plan carefully enough, and bring enough energy to the classroom, we can recreate the experience. However, the bar is set quite high -- perhaps unfairly for the new group.

The reality, however, is that every class has its own personality. The conditions that made one year magical can never be perfectly duplicated. Different students bring different strengths, interests, and challenges. What worked beautifully with one group may leave another group completely unmoved. Teachers know this intellectually, but emotionally we often find ourselves comparing new experiences against our personal high-water marks.

I imagine entertainment legend Prince faced a similar challenge after 1984.

With the release of his sixth studio record, Purple Rain (#76 on The 500), Prince became one of the biggest stars on the planet. The album generated massive hits including When Doves Cry, Let's Go Crazy, and the explosive title track. The accompanying narrative concert film of the same name was a commercial success, and Prince found himself occupying a rare position in popular culture: He was not simply successful; he was defining the musical landscape of the mid-1980s. For many artists, a project of that magnitude would have represented the unquestioned peak of their careers.

His next two albums, Around the World in a Day and Parade, were also hits by any reasonable standard. They contained memorable songs, showcased Prince's expanding musical interests, and sold well. However, they existed in the enormous shadow cast by Purple Rain. Critics and fans inevitably compared them to the album that had turned Prince into a cultural phenomenon. Fairly or unfairly, there was a growing sense that Prince's greatest work might already be behind him.

Then came Sign O' the Times. Rather than attempting to recreate Purple Rain, Prince took a different approach. He broadened his creative scope, embraced experimentation, and produced an album that showcased every facet of his artistry. Across its 16 tracks, he moved effortlessly between funk, rock, soul, pop, psychedelia and gospel influences, infusing the whole with social commentary. The title track examined AIDS, gang violence, poverty, drug addiction and the threat of nuclear annihilation with a seriousness rarely found in mainstream pop music. Elsewhere, songs such as If I Was Your Girlfriend, U Got the Look, The Ballad of Dorothy Parker and I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man, demonstrated an artist operating at the height of his creativity and confidence.

Many Prince fans and music critics now consider Sign O' the Times to be his masterpiece. It lacks the commercial footprint of Purple Rain, but it offers a more complete portrait of the artist. It captures Prince at his most adventurous, ambitious and fearless. Instead of trying to repeat a previous triumph, he pushed himself into new territory and created something even more enduring.

There is probably a lesson there for teachers. The goal is not to recreate our perfect year. The conditions that produced it no longer exist, and the students who made it special have moved on. Our task is to bring the lessons we learned from those experiences into the present and remain open to fresh possibilities. If we spend all our energy chasing the past, we risk missing the unique opportunities sitting right in front of us. I thought about that a lot over the summer shutdown as I began preparing for the new Grade 7 students I will work with in the 2026/27 school year.

Sometimes, the years we remember most are our Purple Rain years. Sometimes, however, our greatest work arrives only after we stop trying to repeat old successes and face the challenge of creating something new. Sign O' the Times is the sound of Prince doing exactly that.

The 500 - #105 - Modern Sounds In Country And Western Music, Volumes 1 & 2 - Ray Charles

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: #105

Album Title: Modern Sounds In Country and Western Music, Volumes 1 &2

Artist: Ray Charles

Genre: Country reimagined as soul, gospel, R&B, Countrypolitan

Recorded: Capital Studios, New York City, and United Western, Hollywood U.S.A.

Released: March, 1962

My age at release: I was not born

How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all, although I did know many songs as country standards.

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #127, dropping 22 spots

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: You Are My Sunshine

This week’s post may be shorter than most, though not for lack of material. If anything, it’s the opposite. June has arrived in that familiar blur that every teacher recognizes, bringing with it the convergence of deadlines, celebrations, and the steady hum of unfinished work. It is an annual rite as the school year ends with a torrent of urgency and anxiety that need to be dealt with. Report cards are being finalized, major projects are arriving in quick succession, and my desk has become an archaeological site of rubrics, feedback sheets, and half-drunk coffees.

My workspace - captured Saturday, June 6 at 1:40 pm.

In Science, my Grade 7s have been building cardboard arcade games as part of our Form and Function unit. The Makerspace is filled with ramps, levers, targets, and the constant classroom  negotiation over design ambition and structural reality.

One of the cardboard arcade games.

Upstairs, my Grade 6s have been writing standardized tests set by the provincial government of Ontario. When students get downtime from these mandatory assessments, I keep them busy with a unit based on Star Wars. It connects to their Science unit on the principles of flight. All of this in preparation for our year-end trip to see The Mandalorian and Grogu.

Poster for The Mandalorian and Grogu.

At the same time, the class has zig-zagged across the globe through Season 35 of The Amazing Race, using each leg of the reality show race as a springboard into geography and social studies. The Grade 6's, in particular, have been digging into Canada’s trading partners, trying to make sense of how goods  and resources move across borders, building international relationships. Balancing two curriculums simultaneously is always a challenge at this time of year. It feels like trying to keep multiple spinning plates on sticks while someone adds more.

Promotional poster for The Amazing Race.

In the middle of all this, life beyond school continues. This weekend,  my dad and his wife visited  to attend my nephew’s wedding. The pace was different, with the usual domestic routines subjugated to conversation, shared meals, car juggling and the small rituals that come with having family nearby. In that environment, It’s in that space, somewhere between a cluttered table of school reports, assignment marking,  blog writing, and formal wear preparation, that this week’s album found its place to shine.

Album cover for Modern Sounds - Volume 1.

Ray Charles’ Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music played in the background throughout the weekend, fitting this moment in a way that last week’s record could not. As much as I appreciated Rocket to Russia, it’s not exactly built for easy conversation over dinner. Ray Charles, on the other hand, perfectly suited the mood. It’s the kind of music that doesn’t demand your full attention, but satisfies it when you give it. More importantly, it’s the kind of record my dad and his wife genuinely seemed to enjoy.

Album cover for Modern Sounds - Volume 2.

Released six months apart, but now available as a single album set, Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music, falls into a category that was new to me: "Countrypolitan". It’s a style that sits at the intersection of country and pop.

Poster for a Countrypolitan Radio Station
Orlando, Florida, 1965.

A helpful overview on Wikipedia traces this shift back to the early 1960s, when the polished Nashville sound began to face serious competition from two very different directions. On the country side, the raw, stripped-down Bakersfield sound pushed back against established country music's slickness, while on the pop front, the British Invasion reshaped music tastes entirely. These developments were deeply affected by the tragic deaths of two of Nashville’s leading voices -- Patsy Cline and Jim Reeves, both lost in separate plane crashes.

Record cover for Nashville Sound, featuring Cline and Reeves.

In response, Nashville doubled down on refinement. This new sound evolved into countrypolitan, a smoother, more commercially minded style characterized by lush string arrangements, full orchestras, and frequent adornment of  rich background vocals often provided by choirs. The goal was clearly to appeal to mainstream audiences.

A Countrypolitan Record from 1966.

Enter Ray Charles, who prized these Country and Western music standards for their melody and directness of their lyrics. However, it is important to note that Charles was not asked to create a Countrypolitan sound. He chose to reimagine these songs by replacing "fiddle and steel" arrangements by adding strings, horns and backing vocals. He also infused elements of gospel, R&B and soul into these orchestrations. It was textbook Countrypolitan, but Charles got there independently.

Ray Charles performing live with an orchestra.

Listening to Charles' Modern Country now, in the middle of a chaotic June weekend, it’s striking how effortless it feels. One wouldn't think this was a record that was challenging expectations. It sounds natural and comfortable; as if it has always belonged.  It is another reminder that makes working through The 500 so compelling. I came into this project thinking I’d be revisiting familier and discovering new artists. What I didn’t expect was how often I’d be reframing what I thought I already knew. An album I had never listened to before this week turns out to be a bridge, between country and soul, between markets, between generations, and, in a small way, between my classroom chaos and a weekend spent with family.

I guess the post wasn't that short after all. Regardless, it is back to report cards and family visits.

The 500 - #107 - Portrait of a Legend - Sam Cooke

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: #107
Album Title: Portrait of a Legend (1951-1964)
Artist: Sam Cooke
Genre: Soul, R&B, Gospel
Recorded: Multiple Studios

Released: June, 2004
My age at release: 39, but songs were recorded before I was born
How familiar was I with it before this week: Fairly
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #307, dropping 200 spots

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: A Change Is Gonna Come

There are songs we attach to artists. These are the signature pieces that feel inseparable from the person who recorded them. You hear the opening notes and you don’t just think of the song, you think of them. A few that immediately come to mind for me...(and are also, unsurprisingly, on The 500 list) include:

• Born To Run - Bruce Springsteen
• Purple Rain - Prince
• Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen
• Stairway To Heaven - Led Zeppelin
• (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction - Rolling Stones

And then there are few, legendary songs that don't quite stay put. They still belong to an artist, but they outgrow him or her. They become something else...something that doesn’t feel locked to a single moment or a single voice.

It is often said that "history repeats itself". I’ve never been sure that’s true and  believe it is more accurate to say that "history echoes". The same shapes return, the same tensions surface, but never in exactly the same way. Some songs work like that, too. They don’t just mark a moment, they wait for the next one. Such is the case I will make for A Change Is Gonna Come, the 29th track on the 30 song anthology from Sam Cooke, Portrait of a Legend (1951-1964).

Label to the 45 RPM single for A Change Is Gonna Come.

The story of this song began on October 8, 1963. Sam Cooke and his entourage of musicians and family members arrived in Shreveport, Louisiana for a pre-booked reservation at the local Holiday Inn. They had just finished performing as the headliners at the Municipal Auditorium on a bill that included many other African American artists.

A battered poster from the October 8th show.

When they reached the front desk, they were told there were no vacancies. The explanation rang hollow and Cooke immediately recognized what was happening. He refused to accept the situation quietly and demanded to see the manager, standing his ground even as those around him, including his wife, urged caution. Eventually, the group left, but frustration spilled out as horns blared and words were shouted into the night. By the time they reached another motel downtown, the police were already waiting. Cooke and others were arrested for disturbing the peace.

Postcard for the Holiday Inn at 1906 North Market St. in Shreveport, Louisiana.

The next day, a New York Times headline reduced the incident to something easily dismissed...and woefully myopic: “Negro Band Leader Held in Shreveport.”

However, within Black communities, the reaction was anything but placid. There was outrage born from the understanding that this wasn’t an isolated incident, but part of a larger, familiar pattern in the Jim Crow South.

Jim Crow laws were a system of state and local laws
in the American South that enforced racial segregation
and denied Black Americans basic rights.

After his release, Cooke reflected on the protest song Blowing In The Wind, which had been released by Bob Dylan that autumn of 1963. Cooke was moved by Dylan's lyrics, but also wondered how such a poignant anthem for civil rights had been penned by a white musician. He would later say he was ashamed that he had not written something so important himself.

Lyrics to Blowing In The Wind - Bob Dylan.

Cooke was further influenced by the message in the now-famous I Have A Dream speech that had been delivered earlier that summer in Washington by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.  As winter approached, Cooke sat down to write A Change Is Gonna Come, reportedly completing it in less than an hour on his guitar. Not content with his initial, stripped down version, Cooke wanted it to be recorded with a full orchestra with each verse presented as a different movement. The string section would carry the first, the horns the second and the timpani delivering the bridge. In the final movement, it all comes together However, instead of swelling to a big crescendo, it remains restrained. It is the sound of waiting...waiting for the change that is "gonna come".

Lyrics to A Change Is Gonna Come.

A Change Is Gonna Come delivered the cultural gut-punch Cooke intended and it was embraced by the Civil Rights Movement and audiences in general, placing well on contemporary music charts. However, it is a song that was not tied down by that generation. It has continued to resonate for more than 50 years.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivers his I Have A Dream speech.

Wisely, Cooke speaks in general truths and not specifics. He does not name a place, a law, an event or a protest. He has penned a song that seems to hold hope, anger, defiance and uncertainty in equal measures. Consequently, the line "it's been a long time coming" can fit any generation. In 1964, it sounded like a promise and in each subsequent decade it echoed like a necessary reflection.

Sam Cooke recording in a smoky studio, 1960s.

In the 1970s, the song settled into an era still grappling with the promises of the ’60s. By the 1980s, when I first heard it, it was appearing in documentaries and biopics, becoming a kind of shorthand for unfinished business. In the 1990s, as contemporary black artists recorded their own versions, the recording took on an educational role, offering moral clarity as the century closed. In the 2000s, it surfaced again, aligning with the optimism of the Obama era. And in 2020, it returned once more, sounding as relevant as ever during a summer marked by the deaths of young black men at the hands of police.

More than half a century later, Shreveport finally atoned for the blatant racism with an apology delivered from a festival stage, offered to Cooke’s daughter, Mary. The world was very different from the one her father had stood on that fateful night in 1963.  And though the events could not be undone, the city’s acknowledgement of a big social wrong was a sure sign that change had indeed come.  Hopefully, similar gestures will continue in order to craft a better world.

Mary Cooke accepting the key to the city and an apology
on stage in Shreveport, June 22, 2019.