As an 11 year old soul boy, I remember where I was when I heard that Marvin Gaye had been shot. We were on holiday at the country hotel in Yorkshire where my sisters and I rather unworthily reckoned our baby brother first came into being. Mum, Dad, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. In fact, I’d rather it hadn’t entered my mind.
It was all such a stupid waste. The Marvin Gaye bit, I mean. My little brother’s a capital fellow. Yes, most of his best work was far behind him (Gaye, that is, etc.), but ‘Sexual Healing’ had hinted at life in the old dog yet. In Marvin, I mean, not my Dad.
After the astonishing ‘woe is the world’ seamless hymn of ‘What’s Going On’, the big man (Marvin) turned to matters of the trouser, to magnificent effect. ‘Let’s Get It On’ is one of the all-time greats. Our Junior could wiggle along to the loping groove, oblivious to the lascivious rhythms and moans but in tune with the pop nous that makes the song as good as it is. She was amazed that there’d been a better single that year.
This is, of course, the ultimate lovers’ track, but let’s stop it right there.
