High octane, turbo,
high performance, super charged…MITCH RYDER & The Detroit
Wheels didn’t need to hail from the Motor City for those
adjectives to be tossed their way, but it was certainly
appropriate that they called Motown home. It was Mitch and The
Wheels who served as the musical bridge between the Motown soul
factory and the high energy, take-no-prisoners rock’n’roll
that would roar out of Detroit via Iggy & The Stooges, MC5,
Ted Nugent and Bob Seger. With Ryder, it wasn’t attitude or
public outrage or politics that generated the charge… you could
simply hear it in the music. Ryder hit during the mid-‘60s when AM
radio was going through a golden era courtesy of Motown, Stax, the
British Invasion, Aretha, JB, and any number of garage band one-hit
wonders. But no one on the radio then could match Mitch and company
for pure visceral excitement, no one else could make the hair stand up
on the back of your neck and a wild-eyed gleam creep into your eyes
because you just know that SOMETHING WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.
The explosive quality was there from
the very start. Listen to the way the chords introducing “Jenny Take
A Ride” are chomping at the bit to swoop down into the double-time
mid-section, or how John Badanjek’s thundering bass drum trigger’s
the ecstactic roll that kicks off “Devil With A Blue Dress On”.
And the Wheels must have known what they had… witness the
confidence-even cockiness-of telegraphing their punch forever on
“Little Latin Lupe Lu”, building expectations to fever pitch
before hammering down the riff with Jim McCarty’s lead lick trailing
behind. And nailing it big time. One punch, KO, Mike Tyson-style.
The records worked because they
perfectly captured the kinetic frenzy of the live performances that
had been the group’s stock in trade since they first joined forces
in Detroit early in 1964. Born William Levise, Jr., Ryder was
performing as Billy Lee in a high school band called Tempest before
turning heads in a black Detroit soul club called the Village. At 17,
he was skilled enough to record an R&B single (“That’s The Way
It’s Going To Be/Fool For You”) for the Detroit gospel label
Carrie in 1962 and to start making gigs fronting The Peps, a black
vocal trio.
Levise was appearing with The Peps at
the Village early in 1964 when he ran across a group that included
McCarty, bassist Earl Elliot, and Badanjek. Together with rhythm
guitarist Joe Kubert, they joined forces as Billy Lee & The
Rivieras and by mid-summer had attracted a fanatical local following
that caught the ear of Motor City DJ Bob Prince. Prince began
booking Lee & The Rivieras as an opening act at a club/casino
north of Detroit, but their live performances were so potent that the
unrecorded group was soon headlining over major Motown artists. Prince
then arranged for The Rivieras to record a tape in Badanjek’s
basement, and that demo brought 4 Seasons producer Bob Crewe to a
Detroit performance where The Rivieras opened for The Dave Clark Five.
They torched the hometown audience for 90 minutes, Crewe was hooked,
and in February, 1965, the five Detroit teenagers relocated to New
York City and bided their time for a few months playing Greenwich
Village clubs for survival money.
The name was the first to go (a
conflict with The Rivieras who recorded “California Sun”), hence
the legendary story of Lee/Levise flipping through the Manhattan phone
directory and coming across the name Mitch Ryder. The Rivieras became
The Detroit Wheels and album cover photos of the band on top of oil
cans or surrounded by discarded tires punched the automotive image
home.
What followed was a wild two-year
ride trough the starmaking machinery of the record industry that
brought them fame but no fortune and tore the group apart in the
process.
Not that the first Mitch Ryder &
The Detroit Wheels single, “I Need Help”, exactly set the charts
afire. That waited until late 1965 when “Jenny Take A Ride!”
climbed to #10 as The Wheels welded Chuck Willis’ “C.C. Rider”
to Little Richard’s “Jenny, Jenny”, and cannily tossed in an
advertisement for their live show along the way (check how the backing
vocals change to “See Mitch Ryder” during the second verse).
“Little Latin Lupe Lu” cemented their commercial appeal when it
reached #17 and set the general outline of the band’s most popular
sound- an R&B standard or two revved up, Wheels-style, with
Mitch’s peerless soul shouting ripping away over the top.
That approach bordered on becoming a
formula, particularly after “Break Out”, the first attempt at a
bigger, brassier sound, only made it to #62 and the ballad “Takin’
All I Can Get” barely cracked the Top 100. Late in 1966, the
“Devil With A Blue Dress On” & “Good Golly Miss Molly”
medleys exploded over the airwaves and indelibly stamped the high
energy Mitch Ryder & The Detroit Wheels sound on anyone within an
earshot as they hit #4 on the charts.
Which was a shame, really, because
the albums kept showing other dimensions of Ryder’s skills as an
interpretive singer. Certainly, tracks like “Shakin With Linda”,
“Shake A Tail Feather”, “Just A Little Bit”, and “Sticks And
Stones”, fits The Wheels mold to a tee. But, “I Like It Like
That” spotlighted Ryder’s ability to tone down for the kind of
slow-drag, New Orleans R&B that emphasized his smooth delivery and
immaculate phrasing. And he showed real signs as a midnight rambler
songwriter on “I Had It Made” (musically, a thinly veiled re-write
of James Brown’s “Out Of Sight”) and the intriguing “Baby
Jane”, which sounds like a bizarre but happening cross of Sir
Douglas Quintet and Velvet Underground.
Early in 1967, prototypical, riff-rockin
“Sock It To Me-Baby!” became Ryder’s final Top 10 single,
despite being banned on several stations for being too sexually
suggestive. The brassy “Too Many Fish In The Sea” & “Three
Little Fishes” reverted to the medley formula, but it was the final
chart entry (at #24) for Mitch Ryder & The Detroit Wheels because
Crewe’s long running Svengali notions of (ahem) putting The Wheels
in motion back to Detroit and working with Ryder as a solo artist were
finally bearing fruit. After a final single (the first credited to
Mitch alone), pairing the syncopated “Joy” with the hard-riffing
“I’d Rather Go To Jail”, Crewe packed Ryder off to Las Vegas
with a big band in tow.
Crewe had big plans- wretchedly
excessive plans since the What Now My Love album released in mid-1967
may be the most godawful piece of overblown dreck ever associated with
a major artist. Divorced from the powerdrive of The Wheels, swamped by
saccharine strings and pompous pretense (poetry by Rod McKuen and
music by Jaques Brel on a Mitch Ryder album, fer Chrissakes), the fact
that Ryder somehow got the title track up to #30 might rank as the
most amazing feat of his singing career. It was the final straw- Ryder
bailed out of his contract with Crewe, who promptly milked the last
bit of mileage he could by slapping horn tracks over the R&B tunes
The Wheels had covered and putting out the Mitch Ryder Sings The Hits
album.
Instead of immediately returning to
Detroit, Ryder took a down-home detour to Memphis to record The
Detroit-Memphis Experiment album with Stax luminaries Booker T. &
The MGs and The Memphis Horns for Dot.Liner notes containing phrases
like “After being raped by the music machine that represents that
heaven-on-earth , New York b/w Los Angeles” and “Mitch Ryder is
the sole creation of William Levise, Jr.”, left little doubt about
his feelings over the Crewe experience.
It was the only time Ryder recorded
with a bona-fide soul band, “Liberty” shows it was a two way
exchange- Ryder’s Detroit bred rock’n’roll energy goosed the
musicians just as their innate funkiness moved Ryder’s singing in
new directions. But fine, fine music didn’t spell commercial
success, and Ryder returned home to a reunion with The Wheels drummer
John Badanjek in the short-lived supergroup Detroit, which lasted just
long enough to record one monster of a heavy-duty rock’n’roll
album in 1971. “Long Neck Goose” updated the classic Wheels sound
as Ryder digs into the tune with a ferocious glee (listen to the
screams he hurls off as the song fades) but the climatic moment was
“Rock’N Roll” (here in its rarely heard 45 mix), kicked off by a
mountainous guitar riff while Badanjek bounced a cow-bell off your
skull at regular intervals. It was so powerful a performance that Lou
Reed was quoted as saying that was how the song was supposed to sound,
and proved it by recruiting guitarist Steve Hunter for his Rock N Roll
Animal phase after Detroit disintegrated.
An embittered Ryder left the active
performing scene then, heading to Denver and working a day job for 5
years and honing his songwriting skills at night. After returning to
Detroit, he formed a band and released the confessional,
autobiographical How I Spent My Vacation and then Naked But Not Dead
on his own Seeds and Stems label. That helped trigger a resurgence of
European interest in Ryder and he released several additional albums-
Live Talkies, Got Change For A Million, and Smart Ass -in the early
‘80s on the German Line label.
He came back to a major American
label for the John Cougar Mellencamp- produced Never Kick A sleeping
Dog in 1983, highlighted by a world-weary , gritty version of
Prince’s “When You Were Mine” that cut the original and all
others to shreds. Single tracks- “Bow Wow Wow Wow” for Was Not Was
and a satirical take on Oliver North called “Good Golly Ask Ollie”
- are his only other domestic releases since then.
It would be a mistake to consign
Mitch Ryder solely to the past- he’s shown too much resilience to be
counted out. He is currently enjoying another surge in European
popularity and has released two more LPs for Line, Red Blood, White
Mink and In The China Shop. There’s certainly nothing
nostalgic about the charged music here- no one, but no one, ever
kicked out the rockin’ R&B jams better than Mitch Ryder &
The Detroit Wheels. The tragedy is that mismanagement, and show biz
machinations sidetracked a great band and- the financial inequity
aside- quite possibly prevented Mitch Ryder from tapping his full
potential as a singer. But all these problems can’t erase the
indelible rush of The Detroit Wheels shifting into over-drive with
that imitatable, fiery voice flying over the top.
Don Snowden, from "Rev Up"
--
"The Best Of Mitch Ryder & The Detroit Wheels"
Rhino Records, Inc., ©1989 |