DID WE UNDERSTAND MARVIN GAYE? by William Fredrick Cooper
(Written: June 10th, 2008)
He did the best he could, but did we understand him? Taking us by the hand into a world of spectacular turbulence, an illustration of beautiful turmoil, we were given front row seats to a once-in-a -lifetime engagement. Placed in a theatre of twists and turns to experience this conflicting, contradicting one-man show of high spirituality and hot sex, to say it was dramatic devalues the performance of the master. Flying the friendly skies while mired in confusion, the splendid songs emanating from a divided soul touched and teased the very core of us. In life and death he remains a puzzle to us all, yet we’re all in accord when agreeing that Marvin Gaye was truly unforgettable.
Torn between political consciousness and erotic excitement, this enormously gifted man was a mystery wrapped in a riddle. Buried inside an enthralling enigma? You could say that as well. Like Billie Holliday, Charlie Parker and Phyllis Hyman, in the struggle with his demons lay the deep intelligence of his works, for he was a genius misunderstood.
From those early Motown days, to his duets with another talented yet tragic voice (Tammi Terrell), I appreciated his sound. His music filled with mirth and merriment, how did we know that was only surface material? What we heard from the grapevine gave us no indication. How did we know that his father never loved him, and he adored his mother so much that no future woman measured up? How did we know a boy labeled as effeminate in his adolescence (Boy, don't I know that feeling all too well...sigh.) would demand sexual freedom to the ninth power years later? No one could ever tell us that his vocal muscle sounded, in his own words, inadequate.
Thus, we find a major piece of the puzzle: insecurity.
An insecurity that produced magic, for he was never satisfied with conformity. For those of us who lived through his music, perhaps in that place only reserved for his gift we can imagine this happening on June 1, 1970:
(Written: June 10th, 2008)
He did the best he could, but did we understand him? Taking us by the hand into a world of spectacular turbulence, an illustration of beautiful turmoil, we were given front row seats to a once-in-a -lifetime engagement. Placed in a theatre of twists and turns to experience this conflicting, contradicting one-man show of high spirituality and hot sex, to say it was dramatic devalues the performance of the master. Flying the friendly skies while mired in confusion, the splendid songs emanating from a divided soul touched and teased the very core of us. In life and death he remains a puzzle to us all, yet we’re all in accord when agreeing that Marvin Gaye was truly unforgettable.
Torn between political consciousness and erotic excitement, this enormously gifted man was a mystery wrapped in a riddle. Buried inside an enthralling enigma? You could say that as well. Like Billie Holliday, Charlie Parker and Phyllis Hyman, in the struggle with his demons lay the deep intelligence of his works, for he was a genius misunderstood.
From those early Motown days, to his duets with another talented yet tragic voice (Tammi Terrell), I appreciated his sound. His music filled with mirth and merriment, how did we know that was only surface material? What we heard from the grapevine gave us no indication. How did we know that his father never loved him, and he adored his mother so much that no future woman measured up? How did we know a boy labeled as effeminate in his adolescence (Boy, don't I know that feeling all too well...sigh.) would demand sexual freedom to the ninth power years later? No one could ever tell us that his vocal muscle sounded, in his own words, inadequate.
Thus, we find a major piece of the puzzle: insecurity.
An insecurity that produced magic, for he was never satisfied with conformity. For those of us who lived through his music, perhaps in that place only reserved for his gift we can imagine this happening on June 1, 1970:
"Marvin Gaye, still mourning the death of Tammi Terrell, entering the Motown recording studio, giving everybody five on the black hand side while saying "What's going On." Turning his mourning into a powerful message, he turned a simple salutation into a whale of a song."
Then, at the demand of a studio that rejected his song, for ten intense days in 1971, he completed what was, in the opinion of many, the greatest R&B album ever recorded. That he failed to win a Grammy for this landmark project is the single biggest travesty in the history of popular music. The social ills existing today were forecast then by a prophet. Overseas in Iraq and Afghanistan, there’s still far too many of us dying. With fluctuating prices for food and gas screaming ‘fat chance’ to the increase of personal finance, the bad breaks and setbacks of an fractured economy have us throwing up our hands, hollering for help from Obama.
Did we understand the words then? Do we now? If we did, then all we’d do is give each other love during these trying times.
(Who knows, maybe Barack and Michelle will play this album on January 20th, 2009 and help us find solutions to all the madness. I sure hope so.)
WE SURE UNDERSTOOD HIS SEX THROUGH SONG, DIDN'T WE? Through Marvin’s seductively sexual sonnets, many of us found our hunger for the clown of love. Those exciting, elliptical, emotional ejaculations tearing our souls ever so delicately between romance and sex, the soaring sexual sentiments coming from his fantastic falsetto, had men craving the majestic, moist motion of a woman’s sweetness, and sisters legs shaking in anticipation of a hardness only reserved for her.
Any woman in her right mind sure loved to ball when he said "Let's Get It On." Mmm, the thought of making love to a queen with Marvin’s magnificent melody as a backdrop makes me explore my Eros while I type this. For me, he’ll say to her 'I Want You, the right way...'; and she wouldn’t dare say no. Delightfully dancing in something drenched, deep and delicious, how many times have brothers asked their ladies "Damn, baby, where did you get such sweet sugar?" when she took control of the dick with her special spot? Mixing and moaning to the music long after the dance, we varied strong strokes within her, in and out, up and down, all night long, fucking....having sex... and making love. Our need for sexual healing satisfied by her gripping it with pleasurable pussy muscles while seductively purring in our ear, by daylight we finally understood that she had two lovers during the moment of lust, and never complained.
Many babies were made to the music of Mr. Gaye.
Therein lies the paradox: His musical sophistication was forged from the love of Jesus and wanting to help find a cure to what's incurable (today's world), yet his aura was constructed in sex. Heaven and what's right battling Hell in a hand basket in a thing of artistic beauty. Suffering while successful, the end came before we made sense of it all.
April Fool on us.
My mother didn't fall for the joke. Remembering my brother and I bringing her the news on that tragic Sunday Afternoon in 1984, she cried all night, then went out the next morning wearing her mission face and purchased all his records.
“He’s gone,” she must have thought, “but his voice remains near.”
Through his music, Marvin Gaye still lives, for us to understand his uniqueness individually, in our own special way. Thank God for his greatness.
No comments:
Post a Comment