Talk:Here, My Dear

The New York Times review
Transcription using Google News Advanced News Archive Search. The New York Times (Palmer, Robert. D20. March 25, 1979) review of Here, My Dear:

"In the hierarchy of emotional states the condition known as sour grapes occupies a lowly place, somewhere below regret and just above outright vindictiveness. Yet this niggardly emotion, which lacks any [...] Several of Elvis Costello's love songs come to mind, and much of the Rolling Stones' album "Some Girls," and most recently an extraordinary two-record set from Marvin Gaye, '`Here, My Dear." Mr. Gaye's album, a long rumination on the end of his marriage, goes further than its predecessors. It complains bitterly about the terms of the divorce settlement, it addresses the departed spouse by name, and it flaunts the macho self-absorption that must have had something to do with the marriage s faltering in the first place.

The title is to be taken literally; Mr. Gaye is presenting the album to his ex- wife, since he has filed for bankruptcy and she will presumably be collecting royalties from it before he does. (Though curiously enough, no publisher is listed for any of the original songs on the album.) Mr. Gaye's recent troubles have been widely publicized, and an album as apparently self-serving as "Here, My Dear" would seem to play right into the hands of his critics, who have always suspected him of being a goodtime Charlie with pretensions. Even among his staunchest fans his reputation has suffered from uneven work and long periods of sa ence; clearly this is the album that make or break him, in more ways than one. And in spite of the tone of self-justification that runs through the album, Mr. Gaye has produced something extraordinary. True, "Here, My Dear" may not become a commercial bla:, but only because it is too rich, too demanding. At its best it is something much more valuable than potential platinum. It is an inventory of the whole expressive range of black popular music at the end of the 70's, a testing of limits, and an affirmation of musical values. It is Mr. Gaye's personal statement, for he composed, arranged, and produced it, of his own musical possibilities. It is flawed, but much of it is simply brilliant.

Some listeners and critics may have trouble equating self-indulgence with innovation and excellence. It is useful to remember that much of the greatest black popular music has been a triumph of what critics call manner over what they call matter. Some of the finest blues recordings--the most rhythmically incisive, the most movingly sung, the most resonant in cultural meanings--used shopworn texts and double-entendre3 and celebrated the singer s sexual prowess in the most vainglorious terms. Billie Holiday frequently worked her vocal magic on Tin Pan Alley confections that were almost entirely devoid of redeeming value on their own. Mr. Gaye's " Here, My Dear" has something to do with both these situations. When the lyrics are trite, one tends to forgive it because the music and singing are superb. And even though self-serving recrimination seems to be a shallow value, it does have the virtue of honesty. How many people have felt the way Mr. Gaye seems to have felt after being spurned by a lover? And how many have been able to turn those feelings into two records full of striking music?

"Here, My Dear" is a unified piece of work, a concept album, and it succeeds on several levels. The grouping of the songs has a loose narrative direction; played through from beginning to end the album purports to tell the story of Mr. Gaye's marriage and divorce. But most of the songs describe feelings or fantasies rather than specific events or situations. The album needs more than Mr. Gaye's often sketchy lyrics to work as a narrative; it works because the music has narrative qualities, too. I Met a Little Girl," the first real so^g en the record, is pure, sweet 1950's spree:. corner music, vocal harmonies lass pattern and all. The next tune, "t then Did You Stop Loving Me, When I Stop Loving You," which r; s in various guises throughout the alt.~an, is a soul samba, more than faintly emir of the idiom of some :~` !~Ir. Gaye's mid-60's Motown hits. . :~ng "Sparrow ," on side 3, is loose-I.;inted jazz, and "Anna's Sung," which f _~ ':lows it, has the kind of 6/8 rhythmic ix:~.iing pioneered by John Coltrane and i Jones. On side 4, "A Funky Space Reincarnation" is disco, and "You Can Leave, But It's Going to Cost You" is a kind of trance music, with insistent rhythms and an intricate vocal or rangement that recalls Central Africa;. choral singing. Mr. Gaye's use of arid vocal layering to achieve specific --claustrophobia in " Whey. Did You Stop Loving Me," warmth and intimacy in "Everybody Needs Love" -- is an idea he explored on his landmark concept album "What's Going Or." in the early 70's, an idea he never really followed through on until now.

The very free use of saxophone obligatos recalls that earlier album, too, but there are significant new developments. Gaye begins with a little electric piano bird song motif, and for the first halt of the tune the saxophone obligato is liquid and mellow. But then the thrust of the lyrics changes, the emotional climate heats up, and after a break consisting of some block chords scored for brass, the saxophone and Mr. Gaye's voice reappear in a more intense frame of mind. The saxophone screams, Mr. Gaye affects a hoarse, broken vocal timbre, their two lines intersect, break apart, and approach once again in a fascinating, suspenseful dance. These are some of the album s unqualified successes. There are instances of musical self-indulgence, too, like the second repeat of " When Did You Stop Loving Me," with sounds suspiciously like filler. But imperfect as it is, "Here, My Dear" is the most intriguing piece of black popular music on record in some time. It boasts no immediately catchy tunes, no snappy, mindless boogies. Instead, it has something of the rhythmic and harmonic variety of good jazz, consistently creative arrangements, the appeal of an open, emotional declaration, and one committed, wonderfully musical vocal performance after another. If it does not extricate Mr. Gaye from his present difficulties, it is at least a noble attempt, for no matter how sour these grapes may seem, the juice is sweet."

- Robert Palmer

Dan56 (talk) 03:41, 6 May 2010 (UTC)

Assessment comment
Substituted at 17:49, 29 April 2016 (UTC)

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Attribution
Text and references copied from "Anger" to ''Here My Dear, See former article's history for a list of contributors. 7&amp;6=thirteen (☎) 23:06, 23 January 2021 (UTC)