Bring tha FUNK

Stevie Wonder
Album: Talking Book
Superstition

When I first contemplated writing this blog, my intention was to discuss largely unknown or under-appreciated bands and artists.  But even after the first week I feel a need to share more than obscure -- albeit worthy -- music, and when it was mentioned that we needed a pick-me-up for a late Friday afternoon, the great Stevie Wonder sprang to mind.

I became musically aware in the mid 70s, but it wasn't until the late 70s to early 80s that I began to take an active interest in popular music (as opposed to punk, garage rock, and the like).  And so, unfortunately, my first exposure to Little Stevie was his 1982 duet with Sir Paul McCartney, Ebony and Ivory, a well meaning song but utterly execrable from a musical standpoint.  Couple this with the equally revolting I Just Called To Say I Love You  and I was turned off for good.  Given Wonder's remarkable keyboard skills, the sheer awfulness of this last song is doubly ironic in that its cliched synth accompaniment sounds like a bad preset on one of those huge wooden organs that your grandma keeps in her basement because it's too heavy to move.  It's truly painful to listen to.

So, long story short, I dismissed Stevie Wonder from my mind as a complete hack devoid of intrinsic musical merit.  And that's the way he remained fixed in my imagination for almost a decade until, as is wont to happen, a girl mentioned that she liked him, and I liked the girl, so I made it understood that I liked him, and she asked me what songs I liked in particular, and I said Ebony and Ivory cos it seemed like the safe choice, and she looked at me with her pretty hazel eyes...and laughed.  Not a melodious, "aren't you cute" laugh, mind.  No, more of an "are you serious?!" snort.  And those pretty eyes rolled.

I learned my lesson.  I bought a used copy of Songs in the Key of Life the next day and promptly wore out the grooves.  Couldn't get enough of it.  Went into the back catalog and a few weeks later purchased my all-time favorite Stevie Wonder album, Talking Book.  This wasn't the music of a cheesy populist; this was the music of an artist with great depth, and soul, and a capacity for funk like few before him and fewer after.

The performance to which I've linked, above, is from an extended Sesame Street jam.  Yes, that Sesame Street.  It features one of the crunchiest, tastiest grooves in existence, and the joy in creating such remarkable funk is evident in the way in which the musicians throw themselves into the performance.  I played in a symphony orchestra for over a decade, and since then I've missed the feeling of being one voice amongst many in creating a "joyful noise" -- Stevie Wonder and his band playing "Superstition" embody that feeling.