Some Motown Memories….

Recently my wife and I took in the touring Broadway musical production of “Ain’t Too Proud” – an excellent musical history of one of Motown’s most successful rhythm and blues groups, The Temptations. (I say, one of the most successful, because I was not a great fan of the Temptations, except for the song “My Girl” which is on my all-time favourites list. In those days I loved “The Four Tops”, “Junior Walker and the Allstars”, “Gladys Knight and the Pips”, “Martha and the Vandellas”, and from time to time, even The Supremes”). Fond memories of many of those Motown groups from the late 1960s were triggered by the excellent vocals from the Broadway cast and, of course, the trademark Motown synchronized dance numbers. What I saw and heard at that show was a thumbs way-up production from an extremely talented cast.

As to those memories the show brought out, it took me back to my late teens and early twenties when I was fortunate enough to manage local rock bands. No, there were no budding Temptations in my stable, but at one time, my co-manager buddy and I looked after as many as five bands. There was a constant demand for our groups to play as opening acts for class A or sometimes upwardly trending class B bands, at hotels or arenas (wrestling or roller skating), or sometimes – these were the best, at fraternity or sorority houses. I loved all the music our folks played, and I got to go to these events, complete with a date, for free. I saw some great headliner bands too. And often booze was free. And for this we took 20%. What a great business. Cash. And participation in great entertainment activities while still going to school.

Where I lived in those days was in Motown territory. Motown was Detroit, but I lived 120 miles away in London, Canada. Canadians were a little hesitant to go to Detroit, but many Motown bands worked their way to our town. Part of the reason was that almost every teenager in London listened to the AM radio station in Windsor – CKLW. And so did many teenagers in Detroit, Cleveland and locations hundreds of miles away. This station lived and breathed Motown in the early to mid-sixties, and often had the first release songs that went on to bigger things sometime later. 

In the mid 1960’s some of our bands played at Wonderland Gardens in London. Originally home to many famous big bands in the 1920’s and 1950’s, it was a beautiful Spanish style open-roomed building right on the Thames River. By the sixties, it was showing its age but was great fun to play music at. Often there would be “battles of the bands” in which many groups, playing in their respective areas, vied for the crowd’s votes. This location is where I often came across Motown bands, and that experience was great. They always had tight harmonies but what set them apart was the choreography and sharp matching outfits. We never won band battles at Wonderland, but we all loved to hear and see some of these great acts perform.

Never representing any big-name bands, we, as managers, answered the calls of virtually any promoter or “agent” looking for opening warm up bands. These agents arranged for booking of top named groups, booked the playing facility, and paid both the top name and supplementary bands. Usually not very pleasant people, there were the powerhouses in our music business, and we generally jumped to their needs and accepted whatever deal they offered.

One of the most memorable agents we came across was a fellow named Brucie Sullivan (not the real name). Brucie was a sizeable man in girth, but less so in height. He had a penchant for fried chicken and would always meet us at a local “Chicken Delight” store. Usually eating while we met, he handed us a four-page contract and told us to sign. He said if we ever took time to read it, he would get some other band. His meetings were short. “Sign”, or “Get out”. “Be set up by next Saturday at 6:45”. Mouth full of chicken, he would then point us to the door and end our business dealings.

We actually did some gigs with Brucie and always got paid. (Interestingly, band members took their money and always bought new equipment: new amps, new guitars, a new “Leslie” speaker, new mikes, etc. Managers just banked their money). 

On one occasion, we showed up at the appointed time for the gig and began to set up. A tall, gangly fellow with long braided, dirty blonde hair came up and announced he was the manager for the headline group – SRC – from Detroit, and he wanted his advance money -$1000. Now, that was way more than Brucie was giving us in total, and that was only his band’s advance. 

We explained we were the opening act and that he should see Brucie. He made all the payments. Belligerent to the extreme in his actions, I became quite concerned when he stated that if Brucie wasn’t there, then we’d have to come up with his money. Desperately, we started looking everywhere for Brucie, but he was nowhere to be found. We saw a security guard by the entry door and asked him whether he had seen Brucie. Until we described him to the guard, he had no idea who Brucie was, but then he said, “That’s the guy the police took out of here in cuffs a while ago”. 

Managing bands in this type of situation was not a comfortable experience. Fortunately, someone from the city who worked with music agents had come out for this concert and was standing near us when we spoke with the security guard. He introduced himself and asked if we were with SRC? He was a big fan he said. We took him to the band’s dressing room, and he was happy to speak with the band members, but for us we were particularly pleased when he also spoke for some time with the blonde-braided manager. 

Apparently, this discussion smoothed things out. Our manager friend did not return and we opened the show. Then SRC followed. I’ve seen many bands, but there is no doubt that SRC was the loudest band I’d ever heard. I guess they were paid by someone, but we weren’t. Our guys seemed happy enough though. They got to sit with the headliners and talk about whatever they talk about. The managers were happy to leave safely.

So, what about Brucie? Well, it turns out he had several business interests. One was in colour TVs. At that time, colour sets were very new to the market and very expensive. One of my friends whose mother worked at the local TV station had acquired a beautiful new TV in a wood console for a paltry $200 through a deal with the TV station. Apparently, everyone there had taken advantage of the same deal, including the station owners. Brucie had brokered the entire arrangement. He sold the TV sets to everyone at the station, in cash, of course. 

And where did he source these beautiful TVs? Why, Granada TV Rentals, of course. He legitimately rented them, then promptly sold them, expecting to leave the country before having to continue paying for the sets. Unfortunately for him, the police found out about his scam and arrested him, that night just before our gig with SRC.

There was some consolation to this unprofitable music management experience. We weren’t the only ones out money from Brucie’s ventures. It turns out that everyone at the TV station, including my friend’s mom and some other influential people in the community, had to return their sets to Granada and were out the money they had paid to Brucie. “You should have told me Brucie was selling these sets”, I told my friend later, “I would never buy a TV from him”!