Rosalie's Tower of Power
CHOOSING THE HITS, CROSSING THE BORDER
In the history of Motown Records, there are more than a few connections to Canada – and that’s leaving aside the fact that it’s just across the Detroit River.
Singer/songwriter R. Dean Taylor was born in Toronto, singer/actor Bobby Breen in Montreal. Members of Bobby Taylor’s Vancouvers (there’s a giveaway) came from Edmonton, including Tommy Chong. Writer/producer Tom Baird was from Vancouver. Then there’s the time that Rick James spent in Toronto, AWOL from U.S. military service and hanging out with local musicians who later comprised the Mynah Birds. Later still, Canadian-born Vanity, Remy Shand and Corneille recorded for Motown. For a while, the company even ran its own subsidiary there, opened in 1974 in Toronto and managed by Ron Newman, dubbed “Captain Fun” by colleagues, and known for an ability to consume liquor while standing on his head.
Still, the single most important Canadian for Motown was a woman not in its employ, but whose position and influence were responsible for the sales of millions of its records – on both sides of the border – during the late 1960s and through the ’70s. Rosalie Trombley was her name.
The centre of gravity for this tale is radio station CKLW, an American-owned outlet (800 on the AM dial) located in Windsor, Ontario, within sight and sound of Detroit, armed with a 50,000-watt transmitter which beamed far, far beyond the Motor City. It evolved from playing pre-rock & roll music during the 1950s into a typical Top 40 broadcaster during the early ’60s. The station also had influence in country & western music, because of disc jockey Bob Staton’s popular, five-hour-nightly show playing exactly that.
The Big 8, spinning The Big 30
The Detroit radio landscape changed significantly in late 1963, when middle-of-the-road pop outlet WKMH adopted a faster-paced, teen-oriented music format with a fresh set of call letters: WKNR (a/k/a “Keener 13”). In this mode, the station ruled the ratings for the best part of four years, playing a vital role in Motown’s explosive growth from 1964 onwards, programming much of the firm’s output and powering its record sales in one of America’s largest music markets. Keener’s most renowned DJ was Scott Regan, while its best-known broadcasts among Motown fans worldwide was the 1966 series of “Motown Monday” concerts at the Roostertail nightclub.
Motor City music radio was galvanised again in the spring of 1967, when CKLW brought in Paul Drew as programme director, determined to dethrone market-leader WKNR with an electrifying, disciplined, tightened Top 40 format. Under Drew, CKLW operated with 40-45 titles, with particular focus on “The Big 30,” and fewer commercials per hour than Keener. He trimmed the DJ chat, and kept his airmen on a short leash with the help of an earpiece tuned into the station which seemed permanently attached to his head. By the end of 1967, “The Big 8” (as CKLW had newly branded itself) was top of the ratings, firmly positioned there as a Detroit station, despite its Canadian roots. This outcome was not only measurable in audience numbers, but also in record sales, with surveyed music retailers, distributors and wholesalers voting it the area’s most influential broadcaster. In less than 12 months, Keener had lost its crown to the competition across the water.
FROM LIBRARIAN TO DIRECTOR
Rosalie Trombley joined CKLW as a part-time switchboard operator over the Labor Day weekend of 1963. This native of Leamington, Ontario, was in her early twenties, and over the next several years, Trombley’s evident music acuity earned her a post as the station’s music librarian. When Ted Atkins succeeded Paul Drew as programme director in April ’68, she was promoted to music director, and her influence accelerated.
“Rosalie had a great ear, and she was the most knowledgeable music person in Detroit,” the late Barney Ales, Motown’s sales and marketing sultan, told me. “Their head office was in the city, so you could drop the records off there, and their people would usually take them over [to Windsor]. But you couldn’t take the chance that they might not, so you’d also drive across the river with copies hidden under the seat of your car. CK wasn’t too far from the bridge, but if the customs people on the Canadian side found them, they would charge you. One of our guys was caught one time, and fined.”
Rosalie Trombley, girl with the golden ear
The station’s appetite for Hitsville U.S.A. extended to on-air contests: “Listen carefully for the Motown Sound,” declared one. “When you hear it with a special introduction by the CKLW singers, call the Hit Line. If you’re first, you win an album of 16 big Motown hits and you will be eligible to win two grand from The Big 8.” Disc jockey Tom Shannon was one of those who handed out a $2,000 cheque. “We were getting more phone calls than ever before,” he told Canadian journalist David Hayes, “and the record company promoters were suddenly very interested in us. We’d get onto a record that nobody else was playing, and there would be incredible sales peaks.”
It was on Thursday afternoons that Trombley would take her weekly meetings with record companies’ promotion reps, whose jobs – and bonuses – were dependent on her decisions. “So it wasn’t unusual, every Thursday, to see the Four Tops, the Temptations, Gladys Knight [or] Stevie Wonder,” recalled disc jockey Johnny Williams for Michael McNamara’s insightful film documentary, Radio Revolution: The Rise and Fall of The Big 8. “If they wanted the record really bad, [label reps] would bring the act with them.” In mid-1967, Diana Ross was among those who crossed the Detroit River to personally make the draw in a promotion for which the prizes were ringside seats at a Roostertail show by various Motown acts and another of those $2,000 payouts.
Getting on the station’s playlist – Trombley usually added only five or six new records each week – meant more than sales in Michigan: CKLW’s powerful, clear-channel signal could be heard in Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania and – particularly at night – far beyond, as well as in Canada. Moreover, stations in those and other markets would keep a close watch on its music choices, scouting for breakout hits.
SWEARING ‘LIKE A STEVEDORE’
As noted, Trombley augmented her intuitive ear with retail reports. “That was one of the things she would do, before she even became music director,” said Barney Ales. “She used to contact all the stores in town, to find out what was – and wasn’t – happening.” The playlist’s inclination towards R&B led to one description as “the blackest white radio station on earth.” Susan Whitall, author of Women of Motown and the Little Willie John biography, Fever, added, “She kept an eye on the pop stations, too, but she was hyper-focused on the black stations and stores, because they were playing things before the Detroit pop stations, and she wanted to be ‘first’ as a pop station. That was part of her secret sauce.”
Diana Ross with CKLW disk jockey Mike Rivers
What also helped Trombley’s popularity in record industry circles, according to Ales, was that she was “a very attractive girl” in a predominantly male business. “She even had some problems at CK with the guys there,” he said. Still, this Canadian could stand her ground, and make plain her unvarnished opinion. “She swore like a stevedore,” noted Larry LeBlanc, former Canadian bureau chief for Record World and Billboard. “Nothing gross, but pretty strong. But she was incredibly shy. She didn’t look to meet artists, she just wanted to do her job.”
The late Joe Summers, onetime Rare Earth label manager at Motown, remembered a particular incident. “She used to come to Motown, we’d go to lunch, we’d go back to the building and listen to music. One day, Norman Whitfield brought in a band, the Undisputed Truth, and played a tape for Rosalie. She said, ‘That’s a piece of shit.’ Norman, of course, wasn’t used to that kind of reaction, and I kind of cringed and said to Norman, ‘I’ve got to take Rosalie back to the station – we gotta go.’ ”
By the end of 1970, The Big 8 was among America’s top three most-listened-to radio outlets, right up there with WLS Chicago and WABC New York. But by that September, owner RKO General had been forced by the Canadian government to divest 80 percent of its CKLW stake to Canadian interests. To boot, the station – in the company of all others north of the border – was legally required to programme 30 percent Canadian-made content (“CanCon”). Its U.S. competitors were gleeful, recognising the restrictions put upon Trombley’s programming options – and in time, CKLW lost stature, influence and ratings in the dog-eat-dog world of music radio.
Trombley stayed with the station throughout the ’70s, and her celebrity endured. Detroit rocker Bob Seger cited her in song (“Rosalie”), and Elton John personally consulted her when CKLW added “Bennie And The Jets” to its playlist (Trombley told the British star that if he wanted to reached the R&B market, “Bennie” should be released as a single; it was, and made the Top 20 of the soul charts.) Yet by the 1980s, the programmer seemed downbeat. “We don’t have the clout we had ten years ago,” she told Billboard. “Record buyers don’t have the loyalty they used to have.”
Eventually, this queen of Canadian radio quit the broadcasting game in the ’90s, reconnecting with her past – in a manner of speaking – by taking a job with Barney Ales’ Detroit-based AEM Record Group, where she worked for its music publishing unit. Later, a severe car accident forced her to retire.
In the 21st century, Rosalie has been honoured: by the Motor City Music Awards for one, by the Canadian Academy of Recording Arts & Sciences for another. At an earlier award ceremony, former CKLW programmer Alden Diehl and DJ Pat Holiday paid tribute, too. And there’s an ongoing campaign on Facebook to have Trombley recognised by the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, given how many American music stars were boosted by her golden ears and CK’s record-breaking signal – best summarised by Bob Seger’s 1972 memorable couplet: “She’s got the power/She’s got the tower.”
CK notes: The Big 8 legacy lives on, and can be found online at big8radio.com and Motor City Radio Flashbacks, and also on Facebook. Plus, Scott Regan’s time at the station – yes, he was there from 1968-71 – can be recalled via The Big 8’s Facebook feed.
TV notes: the other key aspect of CKLW’s Motown years was its television station, particularly its weekly Saturday show, Teen Town, which debuted in 1964. There’s more to read here on that and on its host Robin Seymour, who also fronted CKLW-TV’s Swingin’ Summertime and Swingin’ Time, both invaluable platforms for the stars of Hitsville U.S.A.