Choices. Intimacy. Respect

FREDA PAYNE’S LIFE STORY TOLD IN ‘GOLD’

“You can’t treat me like I just got off the bus.”

      The words are those of Freda Payne, as once directed at Eddie Holland, with whom she was emotionally and romantically involved. It was when the singer was Invictus Records’ most popular solo star, whose “Band Of Gold” had been a major hit on both sides of the Atlantic, and beyond.

      But Payne wasn’t getting paid what she felt she deserved. In fact, it seems as if she wasn’t getting paid at all. “I had never received an advance for my signing with Invictus,” she writes in Band of Gold, her new memoir with Mark Bego, published next Tuesday (2). “Nor was I seeing any royalty money from Invictus, even after ‘Band Of Gold’ became an international hit and was certified Gold.”

      It was the summer of 1971, and Payne’s “Bring The Boys Home” single was proving to be almost as successful as “Band Of Gold.” But by her book’s account, the absence of financial rewards for any of her hits sparked a “bitter feud” with the company created by Eddie Holland, his brother Brian and Lamont Dozier. (The ironies abound, given that a similar lack of sufficient reward and respect was at the root of the H/D/H split with Motown Records just a few years before.)

      “On the business side, I don’t think I was wrong,” Payne told me recently. “On the personal side, I don’t think I was getting my props either. I was in love with Eddie, I really was. [But] I probably shouldn’t have entertained the idea of having a relationship with him.”

      Such private and professional travails are but one flavour of this particular autobiography. What makes it intriguing is the wide range of music business titans who occupy its pages – from Duke Ellington to Berry Gordy, from Quincy Jones to Clarence Avant – and the absence of bitterness on Payne’s part about roads not taken, or about rewards not distributed.

      “That kind of resilience, or adaptability, is something that has served Freda well,” says co-author Bego, who spent most of the past 18 months working with her on the book (and was grateful for a project which could be done under pandemic-induced lockdown). “I think that’s why she is such a happy, positive person, and why people are so delighted to still see her.”

      For her part, Payne still sees Eddie Holland. He came to her October appearance at the Catalina Bar & Grill in Los Angeles, and they were both at one of this year’s saddest farewells, the funeral of Mary Wilson eight months ago. “I watched their interaction,” says Bego, who was also present, “and I realised that there’s a lot of deep feeling still between them as friends.”

‘WATCH THOSE WHITE LEATHER SEATS, BERRY’

      Given that Payne was Detroit-born, it’s no surprise that Motown’s cast of characters shows up in Band of Gold, quite frequently. Her account of Gordy’s interest in signing her, before Motown itself existed, was the subject of this earlier WGB edition. Now, the book recalls that recording session when she cut four songs at United Sound, and mentions musician Beans Bowles and engineer Robert Bateman. “I used to wonder, when Motown became so big, what happened to Berry’s friendship with Robert Bateman?” (There’s more about Bateman in WGB here.)

      Payne also remembers the road trip to New York with Gordy and business associate George Kelley to interest record labels in releasing her material. With the teenager was her mother and sister Scherrie. “George Kelley kept complaining to Berry, ‘Don’t you go get that hair grease on my white leather seats.’ During the trip he made Berry wear a black cloth on his head so that he didn’t mess up the seats. They called them ‘do-rags,’ which were scarves meant to protect your hair.”

Freda’s first album for Invictus returns on vinyl

      That Payne never actually signed with Gordy because her mother objected to the contractual terms is well-known. Less familiar is the coincidence of March of 1965 when the singer was performing at a private club in Manchester, and he was in the city with that year’s Tamla Motown tour of Britain. Gordy apparently invited himself to Payne’s hotel. “At first,” she reveals in Band of Gold, “Berry was really cordial and nice with me. Berry sat on the bed and I sat on a big easy chair across from him. Then his tone became more flirtatious.” She adds, “I was trying not to go from being business friends, and being intimate.” In that respect, she failed – and the occasion concluded as you might expect.

      Later that same year, Gordy – at Smokey Robinson’s suggestion – offered Payne a recording contract at Motown, but then refused to consider modest amendments proposed by her lawyer. The deal was never done, and the singer subsequently signed with MGM Records.

      The architect of the latter link-up was Clarence Avant, then fast becoming an influential figure in the record industry (he also facilitated Mickey Stevenson’s defection from Motown to MGM). “He was a fun guy,” Payne recalled for me, “and a cursin’ guy. He also dated my roommate at the time, Carol Preston.” But Avant disapproved of one of Payne’s own romantic partners, Robert Potter, because of his dubious business dealings – a difference of opinion which ultimately led “the fun guy” to stop managing her. “I’m not gonna break off with him because Clarence doesn’t approve,” Payne remembers thinking at the time. “He’s not my father.”

      Had that split not occurred, it’s entirely possible that Payne would later have joined the roster of Avant’s Sussex Records. In the event, she signed with Invictus, and began that intimate relationship with Eddie Holland. “At the time I thought that I could be like Berry Gordy and Diana Ross,” she asserts in Band of Gold. “Sometimes you cannot help what choices you make.”

‘TRY THAT SUPREMES HIT, FREDA’

      Quincy Jones was another choice, whereby their love affair also led to valuable professional connections, including playing a prestigious show at New York’s Apollo Theater, headlined by Billy Eckstine. But Payne was rather surprised when Jones suggested her jazzy set should include a Supremes chart-topper. “It felt so strange for me to sing a pop song like ‘Where Did Our Love Go.’ Although I was apprehensive, he was insistent that I do it. So I did. Quincy was right, the audience immediately recognised the song and they loved the way I sang it,” she admits in the memoir.

Freda in 1964 (photo: James Kriegsmann)

      “I still have the arrangement by Billy Byers,” Payne added during our conversation, “but I never did it after that. It would be a kick to pull it out and do it today, especially with a few horns. I wonder what the reaction would be?”

      That Payne cited Byers is indicative of another of her book’s merits: she graciously name-checks scores, if not hundreds, of those she has worked with over the past seven decades, who have helped her to sustain a remarkable, versatile career on record, on stage, in film and television. “Freda wanted to be respectful of everybody she talked about,” explains Bego. “She said, ‘Nobody’s going to know who some of these people are, and I want to give them their spotlight.’ ”

      Mary Wilson endorsed that. “Honey, you took score, and you named names,” she declared in her Band of Gold introduction – a contribution made all the sadder by Wilson’s sudden death. “We are both stylish girls,” the former Supreme wrote, “and we love dressing up and being out on the town. We share that same kind of upbeat energy to this day.” She concluded, “What an incredible journey you have had! This book is as much fun as you are.”

      Perhaps the only moment to give Payne pause on that journey has been the fate of her hometown. “Detroit is still in my heart,” she confided, “but I’m disheartened and sad when I see the ’hoods that I grew up in, and the block where my grandmother lived. The last time I was there, I saw one house in the whole block. Some people can go back to their hometown and the house they grew up in is still there. Walk inside and the memories come rushing back. I can’t do that in Detroit.”

      So this seems like a good moment to recall the title of one of Freda Payne’s other Invictus anthems: cherish what is dear to you.

Music notes: this earlier WGB playlist serves as a quick snapshot of Freda Payne’s recording career, including as it does the later, Motown versions of two of the four songs she cut for Berry Gordy. (The originals are presumably in a vault somewhere, perhaps that held by the Chairman, or else with Universal Music.) That’s Florence Ballard taking the lead on the Supremes’ “Save Me A Star,” and Claudette Robinson singing solo on “Father Dear.” Payne’s latest material can be located at fredapayne.com, of course.

Book notes: Mark Bego has authored an astonishing 60-plus books, mostly about stars of music, including Aretha Franklin, Michael Jackson, Billy Joel, Elton John and, of course, Martha Reeves and Mary Wilson. His 2017 title, Eat Like A Rock Star, included a gumbo recipe from Freda Payne, which bonded the two and led to the Band of Gold collaboration. “Let’s see what kind of story you’ve got here – I know about X, Y and Z,” Bego recalled saying to Payne at the project’s start. “And then she proceeded to tell me about A, B, C, D, E, F and G!”