The Second Czar
MOTOWN IN THE HANDS OF AN ‘OLD-SCHOOL’ PRESIDENT
There have been, by my count, at least ten presidents of Motown Records over the past 60 years. Six have served since Berry Gordy sold the company in 1988, and several of those lasted no more than two years in the job.
Others have run Motown Records without officially being president, but that’s another story. Here and now, the focus is on the fourth to bear the title and the responsibility.
It was in November 1980 that Jay Lasker was appointed by Gordy. The business was losing substantial sums of money, and almost two years had passed since the departure of its previous president, Barney Ales. Evidently, the Motown founder saw similarities between the two men. “I wanted a czarlike character – a screaming, scheming, get-things-done, calculating, demanding kind – to run the company,” he wrote about Ales on his 1975 return to the firm in Los Angeles. Of Lasker, Gordy declared, “I had been looking for a czar to run Motown and Jay was just that – a strong, cigar-smoking powerhouse.”
Trade advertising for midline Motown, 1981
When at Billboard and Radio & Records, I interviewed Brooklyn-bred Lasker several times. It’s true that he was “a dogmatic, hard-hitting personality,” as Gordy described him, but that bluntness could be entertaining, and his business analysis was direct and devoid of bullshit. He got into the music industry immediately after military service in World War II, sharing characteristics with many of the pugnacious independent record distributors who did the same. Look, Lasker once ran Decca Records’ sales branch in Detroit and later worked for Frank Sinatra, so he had to be tough.
His presidency at Motown from 1980-87 was notable for the adroit handling of its existing talent base, notably Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, Lionel Richie and Rick James, and for aggressively promoting its back catalogue. He had told Gordy during their first meeting, over lunch at the mogul’s Malibu beach house, that his forte was marketing and motivating, rather than sourcing new talent.
Lasker added that he looked to others to find and develop stars – and, true enough, Motown did not excel in that arena during the ’80s. The most successful “artist” recruited on his watch was actor Bruce Willis, whose album The Return Of Bruno went gold. The company’s other major hit of the period – established talent aside – was The Big Chill, the oldies-packed movie soundtrack album which sold more than two million copies.
Among further activity during Lasker’s time was the launch of Morocco, an entirely unsuccessful rock label, and Motown’s switch from independent distribution – the bedrock of its growth in the ’60s and ’70s – to the machinery of a major, MCA Records. Also, he was involved with the almost-sale of Motown to MCA in late 1986, before being fired by Gordy the following year, perhaps in part for his lack of enthusiasm for one of the founder’s new-artist hopefuls, Carrie McDowell.
SETTING THE STANDARDS
Lasker’s marketing savvy was apparent soon after his arrival, with the reallocation of some 60 catalogue albums into a “midline” range (that is, $5.98, when front-line albums were selling for $8.98). The revenue was a boost to the financially-strapped firm, even as Motown’s trade-press promotion was interesting. “The artwork may be hokey,” read the advertising copy (the reissued LP sleeves retained their original artwork), “but the music is unmistakably the MOTOWN SOUND, setting the standards for the ’60s, the ’70s, and now the ’80s.” The midlines also received a lift from 1983’s Motown 25 TV special, while other greatest-hits compilations were promoted as “Great Songs & Performances That Inspired The Motown 25th Anniversary TV Show.” Clearly, no sales opportunity was to be missed.
Then in 1986, as the compact disc format was gaining in popularity, Lasker directed the reissue of more than 80 Motown catalogue titles as “two-for-ones” – that is, two complete albums on one compact disc. At the time, individual CDs were list-priced at $15.98, and often discounted to $12.98. For that price, two albums on one CD was a highly attractive proposition. The Four Tops’ Reach Out was coupled with Still Waters, for instance, and Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On was hooked up with Let’s Get It On.
Jay Lasker with BG at Stevie’s 1982 re-signing
That was timely, smart marketing, but not Lasker’s only skill. Almost immediately on joining Motown, he had to navigate the choppy waters around Gaye, after the singer called him from Belgium to say, quietly, that he wanted to leave the company. The new president secured Gordy’s approval to cut a deal, then told Gaye that his freedom depended on Motown receiving a $2 million fee from whoever was his next label. The star was surprised and grateful, according to Lasker, and in due course, Columbia Records paid up. In addition, if Gaye’s albums sold more than a certain amount, Motown earned a royalty.
Similarly, Lasker encountered a “humble” Rick James in 1980, anxious to know whether the company would be picking up his contract option. Come Get It, the musician’s Motown debut, had moved 1.1 million copies, but subsequent albums had fallen short: Bustin’ Out Of 7 Seven (around 700,000), Fire It Up (400,000) and Garden Of Love (180,000). Nonetheless, Lasker heeded his gut instinct, re-signed James and steered his next album, Street Songs, to U.S. sales of more than two million, adding around $10 million to Motown’s gross that year. Moreover, there were two gold-plated Street Songs singles: “Super Freak” (sales of 900,000-plus) and “Give It To Me Baby” (600,000).
James had other memories, of course, as recounted in his autobiography, Glow. Calling Lasker an “old-school president and one of Berry’s many minions,” he explained how he stymied Lasker’s plan to release a greatest-hits package with no new music, and therefore no advance against royalties. James’ response? “Do that and I’ll never record another motherfuckin’ thing for Motown again,” he said. When the album, Reflections, came out, three new songs were included; its sales were 400,000.
UNIMPRESSED WITH THAT ‘WOMAN’
In 1984, Lasker’s bluntness served him well when Stevie Wonder proposed that his next release would be the music from Orion Pictures’ The Woman In Red. It seems that Motown was not contractually obliged to take a soundtrack album from its biggest star, and Lasker was unimpressed with excerpts played to him. “Stevie, this is shit,” the executive is believed to have said, with characteristic candour, to the surprise and dismay of those around him.
Get that Motown catalog(ue) to market
The next day, Wonder returned and played Lasker a new song: “I Just Called To Say I Love You.” Whether through luck or chutzpah, the Motown president had secured what he needed, and when released as the first single from The Woman In Red, the track sold more than four million copies worldwide. Even the album, which the Motown president still regarded as below par, was boosted to 1.5 million unit sales.
Lionel Richie was a champion hitmaker in the ’80s – and sometimes a challenge. He asked Lasker to release “Say You, Say Me” from the movie White Knights as a single in October 1985 – even though there was no album benefit for Motown (the soundtrack rights were held by Atlantic) – in order for the song to qualify for an Oscar nomination. Lasker was reluctant because a single on its own would make no money, but agreed when Richie promised to deliver his new LP in time for Christmas, when the track could be added for extra sales appeal. Instead, the album arrived nine months later. Four million people bought Dancing On The Ceiling, but not as many as the 10 million drawn to its predecessor, Can’t Slow Down.
Such were the trials and tribulations of a Motown Records president. Lasker had good reason to be proud of his tenure, especially given the firm’s financial condition when he signed on. Yet his self-admitted shortcomings in developing new talent – or even in breaking some of the would-be stars already on the roster – meant that his seven-year legacy is largely that of a custodian.
Even so, the ability to work comfortably with superstars such as Stevie and Lionel – or brilliant provocateurs like Rick James – can’t be second-guessed or gainsaid. Plus, Berry Gordy would have been a demanding master in Motown’s third decade. And the rapid turnover of presidents in the years after 1988 suggests that running the world’s most renowned record company is not, as Lasker himself might have said, a walk in the park.
Footnotes: Two years after he left Motown, Jay Lasker died of cancer in Los Angeles, at age 65. Subsequently, he hasn’t appeared in as many music industry books as others with less talent, but Jimmy Webb – himself once signed to Jobete Music – offered an affectionate view in his 2017 autobiography, The Cake and The Rain. The two became acquainted in the late ’60s, when Lasker was running Dunhill Records and released the debut album (produced by Webb) of future Motown star Thelma Houston. “When in his best form,” wrote the songwriter, “Jay could talk on three telephones at the same time and smoke a cigar while playing a remixed demo for a reluctant jock in Duluth.” (As for his less-than-best form, the late Raynoma Singleton, Berry Gordy’s second wife, had a few words to say about that in her autobiography, relating to her second tour of duty at Motown in the ‘80s.)
Music notes: this week’s playlist offers a cross-section of Motown’s chartmakers during Jay Lasker’s time there. He may not have signed most of the artists, but knew how to turn strong prospects into smash hits, in Duluth and elsewhere. Missing, though, is Carrie McDowell’s “Uh Uh, No No Casual Sex.” Even today, that record doesn’t seem to be a must-have on streaming services.