200 baris pertama.
Hi, Mr McLean.
Uh, you're not joining the meeting, are you?
Uh... that's what I came here for.
The door is locked at a certain time and, you know, no-one comes in.
I didn't know that. I heard a rumor about...
something about locking people out, but I never...
Yeah, well, you know, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm late.
No, but so am I, but you're gonna be able to stay.
I'd just like to urge you that this is serious business,
because from these meetings come the records
that Motown releases to the street.
We've got to maintain our high standards,
cos if the records are not created properly,
then we have a bad image out there.
Luckily for us we, have one record in the top ten this week
which is always good, which is the Marvin and Tammi record.
The artists that are wide open for releases are Diana Ross and the Supremes,
which we're working on heavily.
We have what I consider a smash on the Four Tops.
Stevie Wonder has a couple of things, but he is still open.
The Temptations are still open.
They have a few things that I have heard that were cut
that I think will be extremely good.
Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, Gladys Knight and The Pips.
Edwin Starr, we're gonna release his thing.
Martha was just sort of cleared up here, we're gonna release her thing.
Jr. Walker has a couple of things...
And then we have this thing on the Isley Brothers.
We will not compromise on quality.
I hear many producers talking about, you know, well,
they don't get releases and this and that.
A person can stay here ten years
and if they don't have the proper quality on a major artist,
they will never get a release on a major artist.
But the opportunity, as I said before, is here.
OK, ladies and gentlemen, if there are no further comments,
then the meeting is adjourned till next week.
In my mind,
the Motown story begins long before we thought it began.
I was always the hustler,
trying to make money, trying to better myself.
Somehow, I was fascinated by everybody being the same, you know?
White and black, they stubbed their toe, they hurt.
There's something funny, they laugh.
I mean, it was, like, to me, just almost a no-brainer.
As a kid, I would sell the Michigan Chronicle, which was a black newspaper.
I said I could make a lot more money if I sell it to white people, too.
One day, I decided to go downtown,
take my little black papers in the white neighborhood
and I sold more papers than I'd ever sold before.
And I took my brother down the next week.
I said, "We're gonna get rich, baby."
We went down to the white neighborhood and we sold nothing.
You know, it was my first lesson.
One black kid is cute, two were a threat to the neighborhood.
You are about to witness
the very exciting story of a city and its people.
Detroit today stands at the threshold of a bright new future.
One rich with the promise of fulfillment.
In this bustling city on the straits,
there is a resurgence of civic pride and unfettered imagination.
The City On The Straits welcomes you
to share that vision as it continues to plan,
to build, and, yes, to dream.
My starting in the music business was an evolution.
Of course, this was over a period of years.
I was the shoeshine boy, a boxer, I was writing songs.
But if I had just right away made money,
I don't know what might have happened to me, but I kept getting knocked down.
I knew I wanted to be in music, so I had this record store.
I didn't realize the customer was always right.
They'd come in and say,
"You got something by Muddy Waters or BB King?"
And I was trying to sell them jazz.
I would say, "Look, if you want Muddy Waters, go down to Hay Street."
"They sell Muddy Waters. I ain't got it and I ain't gonna have it."
It's only 12 bars, 12 bar blues, they all say the same thing.
"I love my baby, but my baby don't love me."
I mean, how many times can you say that in how many different ways?
But the people in Detroit who worked at the factories,
they wanted the blues, and so I realized it was that simplicity in the music
that people understood and people felt good about.
So, I did get the blues,
but it was too late for the change on business because I was bankrupt.
So I had to get a real job,
and that's why I went to the Ford Motor Company, Lincoln Mercury Plant
and when I was on the assembly line,
I started perfecting my skills of writing songs.
The factory had this assembly line...
And I would see the cars start out a bare metal frame and go around in a circle
and different stations would put things on there
and they would go out another door a brand new car.
I said, "My goodness, I can do that through people."
Of course, everybody laughed at me and said, "No, that's ridiculous."
"You can't take human beings and treat 'em like cars."
I said "No, I'm not gonna do that."
Everybody's gonna have their own personality, but I got this idea.
One station here, producers over here,
arrangers over here, dance instructors over here.
"They go from room to room and come off a brand new star."
And eventually, when I felt that it was right
and my sisters promised me they could get my songs to Jackie Wilson,
I quit my job and I was ready.
The factory played such an important part
because I saw the machine and how it could work with the assembly line process
that I based my company on.
There are so many unsung heroes
and people that were just part of the team, part of the effort
but there was no bond greater than Smokey
who is still my best friend today.
If I were doing this, I'd call this...
just forget everything else and say Berry and Smoke.
You know, just Berry and Smoke.
I always loved singing
and singing seemed like my impossible dream,
because of where I was growing up. I didn't think that would be available to me.
Coming back to Detroit, you know,
getting these thoughts and memories and reflections
is just incredible, you know?
And you know something else I think about, man?
I used to be riding with you when they first got the record players in the car.
Yeah, yeah.
And you'd be driving and you'd be ducking your head under it.
"Where's that new Supremes record, man?"
"Wait a minute. I will find the record, man. You just drive!"
Smokey Robinson was a member of a group
that was auditioning for Jackie Wilson's manager.
So, we sang for them and they rejected us.
And I walked out in the hallway with them and I said,
"Oh, you guys were really good."
I said "Oh, thank you very much, man," you know?
And he said, "Yeah," he said, "I'm Berry Gordy."
What?
"The Berry Gordy who wrote Reet Petite?"
"You're Berry Gordy?"
I said, "Yeah. The only one I know," you know?
And then he made a mistake, because he said,
"You got any more songs, man?"
And I had a loose-leaf notebook with about 100 songs in it.
And he said, "A song has got to be like a short story"
"with the beginning and the middle and the ending tying together."
He said, "You rhyme stuff really well,"
he said, "but your songs are just rambling, you know?"
Which they were. And so he started to mentor me.
The first record that we ever recorded was a song called "Got A Job"
and Berry, he would produce records on us and put 'em with other record companies
cos Berry hadn't started Motown yet.
"Got A Job" was in the top five of the R&B charts
so we know that he sold some records.
this guy sent Berry a check for $3.19 cents.
Back in those days, man, they paid you if they wanted to.
If they didn't, they didn't pay you. Especially if you were black.
So, Smoky said, "If this is the kind of money you're gonna get",
"you might as well be in business for yourself."
So, shortly after that, he started Motown, and, um...
the rest is history, man.
Every family needs a home,
and it was my then assistant and future wife Raynoma
who found the two-storey house at 2648 West Grand Boulevard.
And the fact that it was in the neighborhood,
it was on West Grand Boulevard at 12th Street.
You don't get more hood than that.
At Hitsville, everything was in-house.
The offices, the studio, the sales department.
I even lived upstairs.
And it goes back to my great grandparents,
Berry Gordy Sr and Bertha Ida Gordy.
They raised their children in an entrepreneurial environment.
Well, the family grocery store
was named after Booker T. Washington, who was a big advocate of self-sufficiency.
Growing up, I knew that was a very important principle for our family.
My grandmother put together this family savings club called The Burberry Co-op
and, essentially, it's their own loaning institution within the family.
- She was tough with money. - Yes.
I mean, I begged for $1,000.
She only OK'd $800. How tough is that?
That was the beginning of what we know as Motown today.
That was his first investment.
Yeah, this was the magic room.
We started off with one track.
Everything was on one track, then we got two tracks
we thought we were the most innovative people in the world.
We could put our lead singer in there, have them separate.
Always looking for magic, always looking for that magical sound, you know?
Or to be with him doing the mix. You know, he'd mix it.
He'd do, like, 327 mixes on one tune...
and use number two.
He was notorious for that.
"Oh, Berry's gonna mix it." "No, no, please!"
"Please, don't let Berry mix the tune."
Sometimes you have it perfect and you want to just get it better.
You want to get it better.
They said we want the Motown.
No-one can duplicate our sound, because even though I didn't think it was that good
you know, he thought it was great.
There was arguments about that, man.
Like, man, are you kidding? New York is trying to get our sound.
They're sending people here to record in Detroit
thinking they're gonna get our sound.
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