The Time Is Right...
…FOR MICKEY (‘DANCING IN THE STREET’) STEVENSON TO BE HONOURED
This June, William “Mickey” Stevenson will be inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in New York. He was among the nominees in a previous year, but evidently didn’t accrue the number of votes required for induction.
Perhaps that’s no surprise. Stevenson was one of Motown’s centres of gravity during the first half of the ’60s, but has rarely received the recognition bestowed on others. He’s nowhere to be found in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, for example. And even when this colourful character was lauded by the California African American Museum ten years ago, the honour was billed as the “Unsung Hero Award.”
If Stevenson has stayed in the shadows of Berry Gordy and Smokey Robinson, to name but two, his work has irrefutably not been unsung. “Dancing In The Street,” which he authored with Ivy Jo Hunter and Marvin Gaye, is one of Motown’s most-played copyrights. His credits also appear on many other Jobete jewels, including “Stubborn Kind Of Fellow,” “Needle In A Haystack,” “I’ll Keep Holding On,” “Devil With The Blue Dress,” “Ask The Lonely,” “It Takes Two” and “Once Upon A Time.” The last of these was rendered in a new version by the Mavericks just a few months ago, and you can bet that Detroit’s Mitch Ryder will be singing “Devil With The Blue Dress” tonight (28) in Dortmund, as on other dates of his current European tour. Thus, the performance royalty cheques should continue to fill Mickey’s mailbox.
‘Il Duce’ at the ‘Hitsville’ movie premiere (photo: Getty Images)
While serving as Motown’s head of artists & repertoire from 1961-66, Stevenson earned royalties on every released record, too. But if “Il Duce” (to use one of his nicknames) is unsung, he isn’t a mystery man. His appearance in last year’s Hitsville: The Making of Motown was one of the documentary’s highlights, and his pithy quotes were memorable.
Stevenson also asserted his truth in The A&R Man, an autobiography published in 2015. It’s far from the best-written of the dozens of Motown books, but it’s as entertaining as the man himself. And to his credit, the 83-year-old has not evidently worn a chip on his shoulder about being less-garlanded than others at Hitsville.
These days, he does display a sense of the improbability about all that he’s achieved – or, more accurately, a sense that a higher force has been at work. “[With] all the things that I found that I did – or those things I did when I had no idea what I was doing – it dawned on me later on that this was God’s plan, not mine,” Stevenson told me not long ago. “Some of the words that came out of my mouth to people – musicians, artists, producers, writers – I have no idea where those words came from. Sometimes I would walk around and think, ‘How did I know to say that?’
THAT MEETING AT THE BARBER SHOP
“We all have gifts. God gives us all gifts, some of us, more than one. Talent, call it what you like. And how we develop that, and who around us encourages us to make that work, is a whole ’nother world.” Stevenson paused, then apologised. “Sorry, my brother, but I get a little emotional.”
The A&R Man is long on first-hand recollections about the people he worked with at Motown, but short on dates. The best evidence suggests Stevenson joined the firm in early 1961. Which is not to say he wasn’t already acquainted with Gordy and his music circle, including Raynoma Liles; in Berry, Me and Motown, “Miss Ray” lays claim to introducing Mickey to her future husband. (Stevenson reiterated to me that he first met Gordy at Benny Mullins’ barber shop in Detroit.)
Otis, Smokey, Melvin, Eddie, BG and Mickey
In 1960, Stevenson was occupied with his own minor label, Stepp Records, and with membership of a vocal group, the Mello-Dees. He also gigged under his own name: shortly before joining Motown, he and Clarence Paul appeared on a bill at Spatz’s Show Bar in Hamilton, Ohio, north of Cincinnati. Performing with them were “exotic” dancers Vivian Lane and Monique.
Just a few months later, Stevenson’s credentials began showing up on Motown releases: as co-writer, for example, of “I Don’t Want To Take A Chance” for Mary Wells, “The Stretch” for the Contours, and “Rosa Lee (Stay Off The Bell)” for Andre Williams (“a wild and crazy guy, and a close friend”). Williams and he also produced – under the tag Dre-Mic – the very first Temptations’ single for Motown: “Oh, Mother Of Mine,” released in July 1961.
“The Tempts lived with me in my house in Detroit,” recalled Stevenson. “I would rehearse them in my basement: dance routines, their songs – we had a love going there. To me, the Temptations were our demo cutters, our background cutters. Whatever I wanted to do with a song, or had an idea, I’d call the Tempts. Maybe [the song] wasn’t for them, but they didn’t care. Every time they touched something, it would have colour to it, and because of the way they went at it. They ended up being on a lot of songs.”
Yet Stevenson’s single most valuable role at Motown may have been recruiting and managing the musicians – a task for which he had gained experience as one of the Hamptones, Lionel Hampton’s vocal group, in the late 1950s. Specifically, he watched the bandleader’s wife, Gladys, run and rule the business. “That was information acquired by not looking for it, just by being there,” explained Stevenson. “I was amazed how his wife could move things around, and was controlling the musicians – not controlling, but they were given a certain amount of respect at the same time. One day, she said, ‘Are you studying me?’ I said, ‘No, I just can’t understand how you do it.’ She would say, ‘Watch closely.’ She actually taught me without teaching me.”
‘WE’LL WORK IT OUT’
It was that respect for the players which helped Stevenson to bring aboard – and keep – those who would come to shape and define the Motown sound. “They were the first ones – more than the artists – who I gave my pledge to. Because they were the last to get paid. They couldn’t be artists. They could make the records, but they wouldn’t get the royalties. So what made them feel good from my point of view was [telling them] this: ‘Any problems you got, man, don’t be running around acting crazy, getting drunk and high and all that shit. Just tell me about it and we’ll work it out.’ So there was a loyalty there with me.”
Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson (aka Kim Weston) with Jack Ashford and, in back, James Jamerson
“Before that, I was handling musicians in the city, making sure they got paid their money from the club owners and such – that’s a whole ’nother world. So when they came and joined me at Motown, they knew that the same promise was there. So they stayed, and that’s when we started growing and the money started coming in.”
In The A&R Man, Stevenson sketched the personalities of various players, including drummer Benny Benjamin (“a human metronome”), bassist James Jamerson, percussionist Eddie “Bongo” Brown (“this brother always had some of the best marijuana”) and keyboardist Earl Van Dyke. The guaranteed $150 weekly paycheck which Stevenson offered to the last of these in 1962 proved to be an especially shrewd investment: Van Dyke became an anchor of the sound, leader of the band, captain of the Snakepit.
Stevenson had his favourites among the artists, too. Shorty Long was one. “He and I wrote some pretty good tunes together,” he said. “He was always in the studio on the piano at some stupid hour, like one o’clock in the morning. I was just as crazy as Shorty. I would walk in around one or two o’clock and get the vibe of the room, and maybe something would come to me. We’d be there ’til five, ’til we finished. Sat there all night, with him playing the piano. Guys like that, they’d walk past money, they’d walk past anything [but music]. He lived in a storybook world, always made things rhyme. On the piano bench, his feet could hardly touch the ground, but there was always a wonderful look on his face. Little bitty fingers and a great smile.”
FEEDING THAT RELEASE SCHEDULE
Another significant relationship for Stevenson was with Barney Ales, Motown’s head of sales and promotion, who depended on the A&R department for a reliable schedule of new releases to pitch to radio and retail. In the quality control meetings, Ales would be consistently pressing for an uninterrupted flow, according to Stevenson. “I’d say, ‘Which one do you want first, and how fast do you want it?’ He’d say, ‘How about yesterday?’ Now when it gets too close to that date and he don’t have that product, all of a sudden the nice Barney turns into a bear.” Even so, the two men forged a strong friendship, to the company’s benefit.
Doo-wop days: Mickey at second right
Stevenson began running out of road at Motown during the spring of 1966, when Gordy moved him out of A&R and gave that responsibility to Eddie Holland. Of the circumstances, there are conflicting accounts. Gordy has contended that it was Stevenson’s decision to leave, to accept “a major offer” from MGM Records to establish and operate a new label in California. By Stevenson’s account, the changes began with Holland giving Gordy an ultimatum that unless he was promoted to head of A&R, Holland/Dozier/Holland would quit. And Eddie Holland’s claim is that Gordy told him he had let Stevenson go – usually a euphemism for dismissal. One further factor: Stevenson’s request to be given company stock, something which Gordy was apparently unwilling to consider.
Perhaps there are unimpeachable documents in the Motown Museum bearing – or baring – the truth, which one distant day might be released. Until then, there are only the differing recollections of the principals, and this internal Motown memo sent to department heads. “Effective May 16, 1966, Mr. William Stevenson, Jr. has been promoted to the position of Special Assistant to the President. In this connection, he will assume the responsibility for special projects, as well as certain overall organizational responsibilities as they are from time to time determined by the Office of the President.” The last paragraph noted the appointment of “Mr. Edward Holland” as A&R Director, Motown Record Corporation, also effective May 16.
Not that such corporate obfuscation matters much, a half-century later. Stevenson’s accomplishments are sealed into Motown history, his songs still calling out around the world. “He was,” Gordy declared, “one of the greatest creative forces during our formative years.” That the Songwriters Hall of Fame, for one, has finally acknowledged this truth is only fitting.
Enjoy the celebration, Mickey, and feel the love.
Music notes: While “Dancing In The Street” is by far and away the most popular song co-written by Mickey Stevenson, his catalogue of copyrights runs deep – and is stuffed full of hits, as this playlist makes clear. He worked with most of Motown’s writers during his six years there, from Barrett Strong (“Jamie”) to Sylvia Moy (“It Takes Two”), while Ivy Jo Hunter merits special mention as another of his collaborators. Stevenson had a hand in producing most of the tracks featured here, too, including a pair not of his writing, “Uptight (Everything’s Alright)” and “What Becomes Of The Brokenhearted.” Meanwhile, in the physical realm, there’s a brand new compilation showcasing the above-mentioned Mitch Ryder (and his Detroit Wheels) from RPM Records/Cherry Red. Sockin’ It To You is a 3CD set which includes the band’s versions of “Devil With The Blue Dress” and “Stubborn Kind Of Fellow.” More $$ for Mickey, then.