It wasn’t anybody's fault. It was nature. Berry Gordy, the founder of Motown Records, felt that he had little choice. It wasn’t anything personal, it was a business decision. He was going to drop Stevie Wonder.
The kid had been releasing records for the Motown imprint Impala Records since he was 11. Some were hits, others weren't. Those records came out under the name Little Stevie Wonder to emphasize his status as a prodigy. His third album was a live record titled Recorded Live: The 12 Year Old Genius. That one was a big hit. The next one wasn’t. And neither was the one after that.
They had already dropped the “Little” from his name, but that didn’t stop him from growing up. He was fifteen and no one could stop his voice from changing. His childlike soprano had morphed into a young man’s timbre. It was nature. Gordy thought the kid had lost it, not just his voice, but his marketability. The way Gordy saw things, it was time for Wonder and the label to part ways.
Sylvia Moy stepped up and said, not so fast.
Moy had recently joined the Motown family. Marvin Gaye had discovered her singing in a club. She was signed to Motown both as a recording artist and as a producer/writer. She soon found out the label was much more interested in the latter than the former. Motown pushed her to prioritize writing songs. The label had the talent, but not enough material for the talent to record. Moy had the skills. She had studied jazz and classical music.
When Moy found out Gordy was planning on dropping Little Stevie, errr sorry, Stevie Wonder, she made an offer. If she could write Wonder a hit song, would Gordy reconsider? It was a deal.
Moy and Hank Cosby sat Wonder down at a piano and asked him to play them any ideas he had. Wonder performed several finished pieces and Cosby and Moy didn’t hear anything that could be a hit. She asked, ‘'Are you sure you don't have anything else?'’ Wonder had just come off of a series of dates with the Rolling Stones and loved the driving beat of the big hit "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction''. It inspired him to write a small fragment of a song. He banged out a simple tune and sang ‘'Everything is alright, uptight.'’ That was it. That’s all he had. But that’s all she needed. She said, “That’s it. Let's work with that.” She wrote lyrics from the point of view of a man's appreciation that a rich girl can look past his poverty and see his true worth.
When it came time to record Moy was rushed and couldn’t get the lyrics translated into braille in time for Wonder to learn. She sang the lyrics into his headphones as he recorded his vocals. She’d sing a line, he would repeat it. He never stumbled, never missed a beat.
“Uptight (Everything's Alright)” was a massive hit commercially and critically. Wonder would go on to have a prolific, lauded, and commercially successful career as a performer and songwriter. He was a pioneer of using electronic instruments, crafting cohesive albums, and expanding the possibilities of R&B.
I’m not saying that you should always do this, but the next time you hear “Uptight (Everything's Alright)”, just imagine Sylvia Moy, sitting in the control booth, leaning into a microphone and singing the lyrics. When I do she always has a little smile on her face. I don’t think she can foresee the cultural icon Wonder will become, but I think she can tell she’s saving his career. If nothing else, she is seeing a boy becoming a man, and the recording of a banger of a song.
Hey -- thanks for the postcard. Look forward to your posts and the new edition of ClockTowerNine. Hope all is well.