Not just a Bugsy Malone Ray Charles
The upsurge in technology is a good thing and a bad thing. It’s good because we have cookers and sodastreams and I like my food hot and my drinks fizzy like my women, we’ve got the internet which is fun, and because of Twitter I now have literally hundreds of friends most of whom I’m pretty sure would do anything for me. BUT UNFORTUNATELY there is also a downside. Robots. They seem nice now, but one day they will kill us. iPhones mean that we all ignore each other. Plus, music has been sort of ruined, in that it’s all about singles and ringtones, and I honestly wouldn’t be able to name a decent album from the last few years. Albums don’t seem important like they once were, because back when it was all vinyl records and tape cassettes it was a gargantuan nightmare to skip past tracks – you’d have to stand up and walk over to things and that was a fucking hassle – so artists would craft deliberate tracks to go in a deliberate order and that’s how you should listen to their work. Not like now. Anyway, Stevie Wonder’s run of albums in the 1970s is literally better than anyone’s ever and that includes The Beatles and Blur and The Stones and even Adele and Justin Beiber/Timberlake. So here are his ten best records in order of best to tenth best….
Music of My Mind
Like when a dork in glasses lets her hair down and suddenly has great tits, Stevie Wonder became superhot with this, by far his greatest record.
In 1987 I pilfered this from my Uncle Keith because I liked the cover, and with that it immediately became the first soul album I owned/stole. I was probably wearing snow-wash jeans at the time like a mega-dood.
Songs in the Key of Life
Widely seen as his masterpiece this is actually Stevie’s third greatest album and he’d probably admit that himself if you asked him after a few drinks. It’s like three albums in one.
Fulfillingness’ First Finale
Most wouldn’t put this ahead of Innervisions, but I will because of stellar backing vocalists like Minnie Riperton and Deniece Williams, then the small matter of the Jackson Five which contained a certain Ms Michael Jackson.
Here’s a fun fact: every single element of Living for The City, from vocals, to backing vocals, to crotch squeaks, woo hoos, wild saxophone solos, flute stabs, it’s all Stevie Wonder. Alone in a studio with a shitload of instruments.
Where I’m Coming From
Having spent the 1960s churning out hits on the Motown Production Line, Stevie tore open his shirt to reveal the hairier stuff. It marked the start of his magical run.
Signed, Sealed and Delivered
Just for We Can Work it Out. And Signed Sealed and Delivered, and a few others. Not to mention the hilarious cover which suggests that someone bundled a blind man into a box and posted him somewhere.
The Secret Life of Plants
This is generally seen as the end of Stevie’s stratospheric period, but, as the sounds of a man trying to find a groove while staring at soil go, it’s actually pretty amazing.
Hotter Than July
All I Do, the iconic Bo Derek from 10 haircut, THIS HAD IT ALL! Apart from the superior songs of the above records. Realistically this was when Stevie Wonder bowed out.
The album where he went from being Little Stevie Wonder to become more than just a Bugsy Malone Ray Charles.