BRANDYWINE STREET STORIES #3
NO FOOLING: THE MOTOWN REVIEW LIVE!
As we quickly walked to the entrance of Shady Grove amphitheater, you could hear the sound of music. Growing louder and more excited, we almost ran; even Mom, who had a hard time moving very much or fast at all thanks to her illness. We reached the gate and passed through into another world. The backing band was playing an exciting, wordless “Dancing In the Streets,” with horns instead of voices.
The crack of the drums, the blaring, heralding horns jumped out, announcing the event. Chris and me skipped to the beat. As people filed in and found their seats the band played instrumental versions of Motown hits like “Reach Out I’ll Be There,” a number one for the Four Tops and Stevie Wonder’s “Uptight,” with saxophone wailing and sailing inside and over the music.
When they broke into the first licks of “Heat Wave,” I jumped out of my seat. At the end of “Where the Action Is” as the kids danced and waved goodbye Martha and the Vandellas sang the song sitting in a roller coaster. The horns, guitar and organ filled in where the singing would be, making the words echo in my mind.
All week Dad kept telling us we had seats above the orchestra pit with total excitement. I suddenly got it. We overlooked from the balcony the band, right below us. We were high up enough to see everything but low enough to where we could feel the music. The spectacle was awe inspiring: the big, beautiful space, the cool breeze, everyone dressed in their Sunday best or silky dresses I had only seen in movies. People smiled and nodded like we were in on a secret, something special..
“I told you boys we had great seats! We can watch the musicians!”
I thought, wow, these people make the music that is on the records.
The musicians stopped. The lights came down. A booming voice came from out of the darkness. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Shady Grove Music Fair as we present to you the Motown Review. And now I’d like to present the hit makers and proud cornerstones of the Motown family, The Four Tops!”
The singers come out in matching tuxedos to wild applause. They sounded better than the record, and on the chorus the audience sang along but their voices soared over all with the band pushing and flying with the singing, the groups tight dancing.
The music was so uplifting. Some stood and danced, some danced in the aisle.
The lead singer belted out: “Now if you feel that you can’t go on / Because all of your hope is gone / And your life is filled with much confusion /
Until happiness is just an illusion / And your world around is crumblin’ down/
Darling, reach out, come on girl, reach on out for me / reach out for me.”
All the grownups were laughing, singing along, or eyes closed, moving to the music. It felt like we were all together.
When the band kicked into their radio hit of the day, “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch),” the crowd screamed and roared. I always loved the sax riffs and the drum beat.
“Sugar Pie Honey Bunch you know that I love you / I can’t help myself / I love you and nobody else . . . when you snap you finger and wink your eye I come running to you.” The hits kept coming, like our records at home but more alive. Their dancing, the sweat, how they hit notes in unison, with dynamic, synchronized actions, in lock step with the band, took me to another world, a world of magic unlike any other.
The announcer spoke like a testifying preacher as the group, sweaty and smiling, took a bow. “Let’s hear it for the Four Tops, everybody, the Four Tops!” They bowed again and left the stage to an instrumental fanfare of their chart topping song “Bernadette.”
Mom tapped me on the arm and handed me a cup of juice and one for Chris. We needed it. They were all smiles. So were we.
The lights faded down. A light shined on a man holding a microphone, dressed in a white tuxedo. He sported a big swath of freshly conked hair that stood frozen like dark, soft ice cream. For a minute I really wanted ice cream. Since I had severe allergies to milk products, I didn’t usually think about ice cream.
“Ladies and gentlemen” the announcer said, his deep, resonant voice filling the dark all around us. “Are you ready for some more music.?” Applause and cheers. “The show must go on and we’ll keep the show a go going.”
