Stevie Wonder
Billboard's 2004 Century Award Honoree
By Gail Mitchell, Los Angeles
I hear Stevie Wonder before I meet him.
As I sit in his studio reception area, the sound of Wonder's harmonica wafts into the room. He's playing a soulful version of what he later calls a favorite, Herman's Hermits' 1967 hit, "There's a Kind of Hush."
And in that moment the wailing police sirens outside the nondescript building in Koreatown here abruptly fade, as does the start of rush-hour traffic playing across three security monitors. The outside world has given way to Wonderland.
Nearly 45 years after his "Fingertips, Pt. 2" helped him simultaneously conquer three Billboard charts, Wonder's musical charm still enthralls. From preteen wunderkind to adult visionary, his musical evolution embodies a "What's next?" curiosity that still burns brightly as fans anticipate his first new Motown album in 10 years.
"Hopefully, that little boy will always stay in me," Wonder says. "The part of me that's still eager to discover; who welcomes new, unbroken ground. When that ground is being broken, there's a place that says to me, 'Take the you in there who is aware, but let the youth in you that remains curious lead the way.' "
That dictate has served him well in an illustrious career that includes 22 Grammy Awards, an Academy Award for best original song for "I Just Called to Say I Love You" (from 1984 film "The Woman in Red"), the Recording Academy's lifetime achievement award in 1996, induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989 and the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2004.
Add the Billboard Century Award to Wonder's list of accolades. The honor salutes the creative achievement of an artist's still-developing body of work. Jeweler/sculptor Tina Marie Zippo-Evans will once again design the Century Award trophy. Now in its 13th year, the Century Award was introduced in 1992 in anticipation of the Billboard centennial. Late editor in chief Timothy White created the award in tandem with then-publisher Howard Lander.
Wonder will receive the Century Award Dec. 8 at the Billboard Music Awards in Las Vegas, which will be telecast live on Fox.
Since he first began making music, Wonder's life has taken on almost mythic proportions. He was born Steveland Morris May 13, 1950, in Saginaw, Mich., though his biological father was named Calvin Judkins.
Six weeks premature, Wonder, by most accounts, was blinded when he was administered an excess of oxygen during the 52 days he spent in an incubator. Though his mom, Lula Hardaway, sang in the church choir, Wonder calls his talent "truly God's gift" since none of his other siblings-Milton, Calvin, Larry, Timothy and Renee-were musically inclined. That gift manifested itself in Wonder learning the harmonica, piano and drums by the age of 9.
The family's hardscrabble life improved somewhat when his mother moved the family to Detroit in 1954 and she began working in the fish markets there. In 1961, fate stepped in when the Miracles' Ronnie White finally agreed to his brother Gerald's entreaties to listen to one of his friends. White then introduced Wonder to songwriter Brian Holland of Holland-Dozier-Holland fame. From there it was an audition for Motown founder Berry Gordy, who Wonder recalls was more impressed "by my harmonica playing than by my squeaky voice."
Some remember Gordy rechristening the preteen as "Little Stevie Wonder." Others say it was Gordy's sister Esther. Whatever the scenario, the moniker and the music grabbed people's attention in 1963 when "Fingertips, Pt. 2" hit No. 1 on The Billboard Hot 100 and the R&B singles chart.
Concurrently, "Little Stevie Wonder/The 12 Year Old Genius," the album that spawned the hit, also went to No. 1.
Working with producer/mentor Clarence Paul and with songwriter/producers Henry Cosby and Sylvia Moy soon made Wonder one of Motown's most reliable hitmakers. Among the achievements are two classic R&B/pop crossover beacons, "Uptight (Everything's Alright)" and "I Was Made to Love Her."
Sandwiched between those was a hint of Wonder's future course, a cover of Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind." His later teaming with singer/songwriter and future wife Syreeta Wright yielded such Wonder hits as 1970's "Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours" and fueled his desire for more hands-on control.
Wonder, then 21, formally acted on that desire in 1971 when he renegotiated his Motown contract to accommodate the then-rare inclusion of his own production and publishing companies (Black Bull Music) plus a higher royalty rate. With that came full artistic control of his recordings-and a quintet of albums that forever sealed his creative legacy: "Music of My Mind" (1972), "Talking Book" (1972), "Innervisions" (1973), "Fulfillingness' First Finale" (1974) and double-album "Songs in the Key of Life" (1976).
Wonder's vision shattered the hit-single mold of his earlier albums. Having taken music theory classes at the University of Southern California and having built his own studio, the reinvigorated artist began writing, arranging, producing and playing nearly all the instruments on albums that became cohesive, complex rhythmic treatises on love, life and racial and social issues.
Experimenting with the Moog synthesizer, Wonder also stretched beyond his smooth, gospel-infused R&B/pop confines, morphing into funk, rock, reggae, jazz, African and other world rhythms. And riding those rhythms was a voice that evolved from "squeaky" to versatile.
The experimental and issues-conscious personas reflected in the mid-'70s manifested themselves on such subsequent albums as "Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants" (1979), the Martin Luther King holiday-driven "Hotter Than July" (1980) and "In Square Circle" (1985), which addresses apartheid. Further examples include his work on the charity singles "We Are the World" and "That's What Friends Are For." Along the way, he has crossed paths with the Miracles, Aretha Franklin, the Spinners, Rufus, Paul McCartney, Michael Jackson, Spike Lee, Minnie Riperton, Whitney Houston, Babyface ... the list goes on.
There have been a few bumps along the way. A near-fatal 1973 car accident that left him in a coma; a plagiarism suit filed over "I Just Called to Say I Love You"; the commercial disappointment of his last studio set, the 1995 release "Conversation Peace"; and Wright's death in July 2004 of cancer.
But it's an easygoing, soft-spoken Wonder -- sans dark shades, with his trademark braids pulled back by a black scarf -- who alone greets and then spirits me under an archway emblazoned "Wonderland." We spend the next four hours in the Wonderbox, the nickname for the small, enclosed room that houses his recording equipment.
Whether passionately assessing the presidential election (he campaigned for Sen. John Kerry), recalling old memories or talking about his new album, Wonder frequently punctuates his conversation with the words "God," "love" and "fun." Or he lapses into mimicking someone's voice or the particular sound an instrument makes as he describes various songs.
Listening -- and watching him listen -- as he plays several tunes from the upcoming project, one indeed witnesses the boy Wonder. He's still discovering, still seeking that higher ground to universal love.
You're coming up on 45 years in music. Did you ever think you would come this far?
I've never thought about it. I just let life do what it did. And it did. I'm thankful, because there was a time when my future was in question after I had the car accident in 1973.
Last year was 30 years since the accident, and we were celebrating my son Kwame's 15th birthday. He was born on the very day I'd had my accident, Aug. 6. That's a pretty amazing thing.
Did you remember anything about the accident after the coma?
Some things. We had just finished "Innervisions." The question has always been, "Did you write 'Higher Ground' [from that album] because you thought something was going to happen?" I think the accident happened on a Monday. We had done a show that Sunday and stopped at this Radio Shack to get a cord to plug my tape recorder into the car, a reel-to-reel that I carried around with me, and I had two-track mixes of "Innervisions." I had my headphones on. We were on our way to North Carolina to do a performance to raise money for a black radio station when the accident happened.
I remember we left, and you're never supposed to leave the scene of an accident. What happened was my brother picked me up, put me in a car and drove the back roads to the highway to get to the hospital. At the hospital, the doctors said that if they hadn't moved me, I would have died, because help was taking too long to get there.
Were there any residual effects?
I lost my sense of smell a little bit; my sense of taste for a minute. But I'm pretty straight. I suffered a brain contusion and some lacerations on my right side of my forehead.
I thought about doing the plastic surgery thing, so I went to this doctor. He was looking at this side of my head, then he went to the other side. And I said, "What are you looking at the other side for?" And he said, "Well, I thought we could do some work here." I said, "Oh no. Forget it. Leave it alone." I just let it be one of the scars of life I went through. I came out at the end of it with the blessing of life.
Talking about the accident made me think just now about Syreeta [Wright, his late ex-wife]. You met Takiyah, her daughter, earlier. She has sort of adopted me as a father figure. It's amazing to think that with Syreeta I wrote "Never Dreamed You'd Leave in Summer" [from "Where I'm Coming From"], and she died in the summer. It's just real deep to think about things that have happened in life.
Despite your divorce, you and Syreeta remained close.
We remained lifelong friends. Syreeta and I wrote great songs together. There is heartbreak, but on the other side of it, God didn't have to bless me by knowing her and sharing life and love. I do cherish that, and I cherish the fact that I was able to be there. You cannot change things or tell God what to do. The reality is there's nothing you can do. You have to make the best of it.
So now for a question that's on everyone's lips: When is the new album going to be released?
I'm hoping it comes out in April. I wanted it to come out earlier. As an artist, you get anxious and excited, you want to show what you can do. But for me, I had to make a real decision not to rush. I wasn't feeling that the timing is right. A lot of what I do when I do an album is based on whether the timing is right.
Did you think 10 years would elapse between your last album, "Conversation Peace," and your new project?
I really wasn't thinking about it either way. I didn't mean for that to happen. On the other hand, it wasn't a panic-mode situation, either, where we've got to do this or we're going to have a problem up in here.
The album was first slated for release last March. The next date was July. Then before that, Motown president Kedar Massenburg resigned.
Obviously, there are different changes happening. From Kedar resigning to me coming to know Sylvia [Rhone, president of Motown/executive VP of Universal Records] and building a relationship; connecting and getting a feel for each other. There's a legacy of Sylvia Rhone and a legacy of Steveland Morris/Stevie Wonder, and we have to tear down the "I heards" to get to the "what ises." And that's a process within itself.
But we've already talked about some interesting things between myself and Motown/Universal; things I've wanted to do for years, but having them done the right way. And those things will make a difference.
Like what?
Well, we've talked about me having a serious label. I'm not talking about creating a label just because [I am] an artist. I'm talking about a serious label. The way in which I will do this won't reinvent the wheel, but it will be a different kind of thing.
