Spin And Groove

There are albums that defined a moment, and there are albums that outlasted the moment so completely that they’ve become impossible to separate from everything that came after. Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On is the second kind. Released in May 1971, it was radical then. It sounds just as radical now — maybe more so, because now we know how rarely records like this actually get made.

How This Album Almost Didn’t Happen

The story behind What’s Going On is almost as remarkable as the music itself. In 1970, Marvin Gaye was one of Motown’s biggest stars, but he was increasingly frustrated with the label’s formula — the pop gloss, the commercial calculation, the sense that he was a product to be managed rather than an artist to be supported. He’d been profoundly affected by the death of his close friend Tammi Terrell in 1970, and by conversations with his brother Frankie, who’d returned from Vietnam with a firsthand account of what was happening there.

Gaye recorded the title track in June 1970. When he played it for Berry Gordy, Motown’s founder reportedly called it “the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” Gordy didn’t want to release it. Other Motown executives overruled him — they felt Gaye had made something significant — and the single was released in January 1971. It became Motown’s fastest-selling single to that point.

Gordy then gave Gaye the green light for the album. Marvin produced it himself — the first time a Motown artist had produced their own record. And what he created was something that had no real precedent in soul music: a concept album, sonically unified, politically conscious, emotionally devastating, and profoundly beautiful all at once.

The Music

Nine tracks. Around 35 minutes. It flows as a single piece of music — Gaye conceived it that way, with brief instrumental interludes connecting the songs, so that the record has the feel of a journey rather than a collection.

What Makes It Great — and Why Vinyl Is the Right Format

The orchestration on this record is extraordinary. David Van DePitte’s string arrangements are lush without being sentimental, and the way the album breathes — all those overdubbed vocal parts, the party sounds at the opening, the conga patterns that run underneath so many tracks — it’s dense, layered music that rewards close listening.

On vinyl, the warmth of the recording opens up in a way that digital doesn’t fully capture. The low end on “Inner City Blues” is physical. The strings on “Mercy Mercy Me” have a dimension to them. And Gaye’s vocals — recorded as multiple overdubs, interacting with himself — sit in the stereo field with a presence that makes the whole thing feel immediate.

The title track is one of the most perfect opening songs in the history of recorded music. I don’t say that lightly. The way it establishes the album’s tone in the first thirty seconds — the conversational party sounds, then the piano, then Gaye’s voice entering as if he’s just arrived and is asking a question that needs an answer — is masterful. Everything that follows earns that opening.

“Mercy Mercy Me” is the one that gets me every time. The environmental concern it expresses — pollution, radiation, the land being poisoned — was radical in 1971. It isn’t dated. That’s the remarkable thing. A protest song written over fifty years ago that still feels like it was written last week.

“Inner City Blues” closes the album as a slow, churning, almost hypnotic piece about urban poverty, police violence, and systemic failure. It’s as direct as anything on the record. And Gaye delivers it without a trace of self-righteousness — just profound, aching concern.

James Jamerson and That Bassline

I have to talk about James Jamerson. If you’re a bass player, you already know who he is. If you’re not — let me tell you, because understanding what Jamerson did on this record changes how you hear the whole thing.

Jamerson was the house bassist at Motown throughout the 1960s and into the 70s, one of the core group of session musicians known as the Funk Brothers who played on virtually every record the label released. He came from a jazz upright bass background, and when the electric bass arrived he brought that entire vocabulary — chromatic runs, syncopation, inversions, ghost notes, open strings used as rhythmic devices — across to the new instrument. Nobody had done that before. Most electric bassists of the era were playing root notes and keeping time. Jamerson was composing counter-melodies in real time, every take, on every session.

His instrument was a 1962 Fender Precision Bass he called The Funk Machine. And he played it with one finger. His right index finger — nicknamed The Hook — was all he used to pluck the strings, with his third and fourth fingers resting on the pickup cover. That’s it. One finger. The basslines on “Bernadette,” “I Was Made to Love Her,” “Reach Out I’ll Be There” — all of it, one finger. The technique gave him extraordinary control over attack and dynamics in a way that conventional two-finger or pick technique doesn’t easily produce.

Now. About the title track specifically.

Marvin Gaye recorded “What’s Going On” late at night and needed Jamerson in the studio. The problem was that Jamerson wasn’t in any studio — he was at a bar, and then another bar, and by the time someone tracked him down and got him to the recording session, he was, by all accounts from the other Funk Brothers in the 2002 documentary, extremely drunk. Too drunk to sit on his usual high stool. So he played the bassline lying flat on his back on the studio floor.

That bassline — the one you hear from the very first second of the record, that sinuous, melodic, impossibly fluid groove built around an Emaj7 chord — was recorded by a man lying on the floor. One finger. Eyes probably closed. And it is, in my opinion, one of the finest bass performances ever committed to tape.

MusicRadar ranks it among his greatest contributions, alongside “Bernadette” — and the competition for that title is fierce. What makes the “What’s Going On” line special isn’t complexity for its own sake. It’s the way it breathes. The syncopations leave space. The chromatic passing tones happen in exactly the right places. The whole thing sits underneath Gaye’s vocal without ever overshadowing it, but pull it out of the mix and listen to it alone and it’s its own complete piece of music.

What’s Going On was also — and this still feels remarkable — the first Motown album to credit Jamerson by name in the sleeve notes. After years of playing on dozens of number-one hits, anonymous behind the scenes, Gaye acknowledged him as “the incomparable James Jamerson.” He’d played on 23 number-one pop hits and 56 R&B chart-toppers before anyone put his name on a record.

He died on August 2, 1983, from complications of cirrhosis. He was 47. His 1962 Precision Bass — The Funk Machine — was stolen just days before he passed. Allan Slutsky’s 1989 book Standing in the Shadows of Motown, and the 2002 documentary of the same name, finally brought his story to a wider audience. Both are essential if you want to understand what he actually did and why it mattered.

Every time I put on What’s Going On, I turn up the bass a little and just follow what Jamerson is doing. There’s always something new to catch. A ghost note that lands differently from how you remembered. A run that comes in half a beat earlier than expected and somehow makes everything feel more inevitable. That’s the thing about genuinely great playing — it sounds effortless and obvious until you really listen. And then you realise how much is going on.

The Vinyl

Discogs lists dozens of pressings of this album from territories all around the world. The original US Tamla pressing from 1971 is the most sought-after and commands significant prices in good condition. UK and European pressings from the early 70s are more accessible and sound excellent.

The earliest US copies were pressed on dynaflex vinyl, which Motown used extensively in this period. Dynaflex is thinner and more flexible than standard vinyl — opinions on how it sounds vary widely. I prefer the weight and rigidity of the UK pressings, but that’s a personal preference. Motown’s own retrospective on the album has useful context on the recording and release history.

Equipment Used

Technics SL-1200 MK3D, Ortofon DJ Mk1 with Arkiv stylus, Yamaha HA-5 phono equalizer, Roland GO:MIXER PRO-X for USB digital output, iPad Pro 2020 for video capture.

For a record this well-recorded — Gaye and his team used the best studios and engineers Motown could provide — a clean playback chain lets you hear what’s actually on the disc. The Yamaha HA-5 is my reference point for that: neutral, accurate, adds nothing. On a record like What’s Going On, that transparency matters.

Last Word

I’ve listened to this album hundreds of times. That’s not an exaggeration — it’s been in regular rotation since I first heard it, and it has never once felt like I’ve extracted everything from it.

That’s the test, isn’t it? Not whether a record is important or well-reviewed or historically significant — but whether it keeps giving you something new.

This one does. Every single time.