Innervisions (1973) - Stevie Wonder

Stevie Wonder’s run of five albums from 1972 through 1976, culminating in the greatest double album of all time, the masterful Songs in the Key of Life, is widely considered to be one of the greatest stretches of continued musical genius ever documented on record, only paralleled by The Beatles in the 1960s and Prince in the 1980s. While no one disputes that each record in that streak is an unmitigated triumph, the discussion mainly revolves around the question of which record can be held up as the best, the ultimate testament to the unique genius of Stevie Wonder. Many point to the sprawling double album opus Songs in the Key of Life (1976) as the final expansive expression of his talents, not holding anything back, while others point to the funky Talking Book (1972) as his best, fusing rock, funk, soul and pop into a cocktail of brilliant music, but to me, his best work will always be the boldly revolutionary soul statement record, Innervisions (1973). Wonder had solidified his unique fusion minded style of R&B on his previous two records, but with this album he was able to expand his sonic revolution into a entirely new approach to songwriting. Here he restructures pop songs into opuses, showing off his newfound skills in writing, producing and performing tracks completely solo, with three of these nine tracks being performed in totality by Wonder alone, with most others only featuring one or two other backing musicians. Most importantly is his change in lyric writing which refocuses from the romantic concerns of most other Motown pop. Much like Marvin Gaye two years before him, Wonder shifts from writing about the individual to the collective, taking on political and spiritual concerns with the maturity and insight of a much older and wiser man. Keep in mind that Wonder recorded this album at only 23 years old. This record truly shows a young genius peaking.

This radical shift in Wonder’s own writing style is evident from the opening track, the gurgling electric piano driven funk of “Too High” a song which directly challenges the prevalence of illicit drug use. He expertly uses psychedelic, LSD-tinged imagery that was so en vogue in the late 60s and twists it effortlessly in order to paint a harrowing tale of addiction with a protagonist so strung out on hallucinogens that she can no longer tell reality from her visions. The lyrics alone would make this piece a triumph, but Wonder’s musical talents, particularly in arrangement, come to the fore as well with his unique use of backing vocals to create an eerily unsettling effect with their jazzy scat harmonies. Wonder’s use of atmosphere on the song is used brilliantly to make the listener uncomfortable with its slightly ersatz melody that never quite lands where you want it to, in order to make it sound as if something is wrong. Wonder’s knack for a delicious groove still prevails, providing an absolutely monstrous Moog synth bass line over which he lays down some stuttering percussive fills and piano work. The track feels startlingly full for one performed completely by himself outside of the background vocals. The song is a statement of purpose for the entire record that follows. Each track has its own unique identity that makes it feel truly distinct from everything else, while also feeling like part of a whole, both in its societal focused lyrical concerns and musicality. He consistently paints a unique picture from similar instrumental palettes, making this wide ranging, diverse record feel of a piece. This is arguably Wonder’s most sonically cohesive record, as shown by the way that each song seems to effortlessly flow into the next with little differentiation between each one, making it impossible to listen to just one song as opposed to the entire record.

Wonder shows off the record’s diversity by segueing the eerie funk of “Too High” directly into the record’s most elegant, heartwarmingly hopeful ballad, the half-titular “Visions''. The song expounds on Wonder’s hopes and dreams for a future that can be achieved through love and togetherness, but he expertly grounds these concerns in his own doubts and insecurities. Each verse expresses Wonder’s desires for love to conquer hate, a theme throughout his discography but he closes each with the second-guessing lyric “Or is this a vision in my mind?”, questioning if his desires are even possible at all. The song feels like the realist’s vision for the future, fitting right in on this album which is one that tells of reality but hopes for a future where these issues no longer persist, which makes the fact that so many of the lyrics still resonate fifty years later, a tragedy. Wonder gives one of his most tender and emotional vocal performances over the track’s warm mix of acoustic guitar, piano and jazz bass. The instrumental provides a dreamlike plush padding over which Wonder delivers a nuanced performance that makes this song truly soar. The song is the best representative of the album as a whole and Wonder’s unique type of social commentary, never needlessly depressing, but never hopeful without real reason to be.

The album’s centerpiece comes in the form of the eight minute funk masterpiece “Living for the City”, perhaps both the best and the most important song in Wonder’s immense catalog. The song sees him expounding on the issues of Black life through the story of a young man moving from Mississippi to New York City during the Great Migration, but he paints with such strokes that it feels like it could be grounded in any time period, with the same issues sadly persisting to this day. Wonder paints a devastating portrait of a family in extreme poverty dealing with pay inequality, the difficulties of finding a job, drug abuse and most crushingly police brutality and the cruelty of the justice system in the verses. The most chilling moment comes in the song’s climactic, heartbreaking spoken word bridge which features Wonder’s knack for voice acting, playing the part of a naive Black man who comes to the city, is framed for possession of drugs, abused by police and unjustly arrested. Wonder does this all in a remarkably concise manner, letting the music itself provide some respite from the heart wrenching lyrics in its instrumental passages. While the most impactful moment of the song is the bridge, the song proper is a musical masterpiece as well as a lyrical one. The song is anchored by a simple, but undeniable thumping bass line, stomping martial drums and layers of dreamy electric keys. However, this is yet again another song that puts the focus primarily on Wonder’s outstanding vocal work, singing the wildly catchy chorus hook with aplomb. The emotion truly drips from his voice at every turn, singing every lyric with a pleading delivery, pushing himself to sing each word with the reverence and pain it deserves, howling like an old school soul shouter in places, but making sure to enunciate every word to get his nuanced points across in the form of a brilliant funk pop song. The synth work in the wordless vocal bridges between verses are a touch that elevates the piece from a song to a true multipart opus, giving it a sense of flow and beauty to offset the grit and pain of the verses. It is arguably the most sticky piece on the album from a hook perspective, which is smart because it is also the most powerful. If one song on here sticks with you, it should be this one. Truly one of the most important songs in Wonder’s oeuvre and in politically minded music in general. Wonder does it all himself on this song and in eight minutes makes a clear assertion of his genius. Nobody was functioning on his level in 1973 and this song proves that easily.

Wonder closes the side with one of the album’s most pretty pieces, the soaring soul pop of “Golden Lady”. It is the record’s first light number, a love song to a particularly wonderful woman that wouldn’t feel out of place on his previous, more romantically focused record Talking Book. It provides a warm, lovely respite from the heaviness of the first three tracks. The song is another vocal showcase for Wonder, who delivers the soaring ascending melodies on the chorus hook with a pure joy in his voice that is infectious. The arrangement is based around some bouncy piano work with a quick, wildly catchy organ riff, a spry bass line and a Latin tinged groove that would inspire more Latin-leaning melodies in Wonder’s future. The song makes for a joyous and wonderful close to the dynamite A-side. A perfect side of vinyl.

The album’s second side hits its peak early on with the absolute funk bomb that is the deathless clavinet-driven groove of “Higher Ground”. It is the most explicitly chart minded song here with its raucous, driving funk feeling like a more spiritually minded update of the previous album’s highlight “Superstition”, but while that song luxuriated in a heavily percussive and bass driven funk, this song is lighter and more bouncy, focusing the groove around Stevie’s clavinet and piano work. The song almost has a gospel edge, both musically with its get-up-and-dance rhythms and hand claps but even more explicitly in the lyrics, which features Wonder impelling the world to continue feeling joy and extolling the virtues of reincarnation. This introduction of Eastern religious concepts enriches the record in a way that was radical for the time and what makes the album lyrically so diverse. The song is infectiously joyful and is truly impossible not to dance to. It might be the simplest number on here but it is one of the best, particularly because of Wonder’s singing, delivering each word with gusto and a sense of fun that lightens the album and gives it some thematic diversity, making it a delight to return to time and time again. The best standalone song from the album.

The funk continues with the album’s least traditional track, the jumbled, accusatory “Jesus Children of America”, the spiritual flipside to the joyous “Higher Ground”. Here, Wonder vents his frustrations at the institutions that drive Christinaity. The song is full of mixed messages, both praising the religion and those who follow its tenets with love while also critiquing so-called holy rollers for abusing the messages of God. Lyrically the song’s cut and paste approach can be disconcerting, but it parallels Wonder’s own mixed feelings in a compelling way, and he delivers them with such passion in his voice that it’s hard not to be drawn in. The funk is much darker and harsher than the rave-up that came before, focusing on a slithering, nocturnal Moog bass line and aggressive electric piano work which parallel the darkness of Wonder’s own bass-y vocal performance. When a track this enthralling is an album low point, you know you’re listening to a masterpiece.

The album takes a turn for the romantic once more with the devastating piano ballad “All in Love Is Fair”. The song is a spotlight for Wonder’s brilliant piano playing, stripping the instrumental down to a solo piano ballad with Wonder’s glorious melodic flourishes giving the track a sense of emotional gravitas. While the piano is brilliant on its own, the track is best known for Wonder’s stirring vocal performance, where he belts out each note with passion and heartache that is truly palpable. Wonder turns in his best performance as a jazz vocalist here, with the song feeling like a classic heartache ballad that could be performed by Nat King Cole or Dionne Warwick, but Wonder’s soulful vocals make it very much his own, vibrato shaping every high note and his use of melisma absolutely shattering the hearts of any listener. The lyrics are slightly abstract, grounding his own heartache in the trials of a writer, where he shows that no matter how many times a heart is broken we try love again and again, assuring ourselves that “all in love is fair” once more. The song portrays the cycle of endless heartache in a soul-baring way, but Wonder expertly doesn’t let the listener luxuriate in sorrow for too long.

He smartly pivots to the album’s most joyous moment, the jazzy Latin pop number “Don’t You Worry Bout a Thing” which sports the album’s catchiest vocal melody and arguably Wonder’s most relaxed and delightfully fun performance, belting the ebullient chorus hook like his life depends on it. Wonder sticks to his underutilized lower register for much of this record, but he lets loose here over top of the breezy pianos and upbeat percussion to craft one of the most life affirming, joyful moments in his entire catalog. The song is a jolt of happiness the record desperately needs in order to off set so much of the hurt and pain Wonder puts on display. The record truly is a showcase of life in so many ways, with Wonder expertly portraying both the joy and the pain in almost equal measure, showing that both exist and that they can exist in collaboration with one another. That is the genius of Wonder’s work.

Wonder ends the record with the mid-tempo piano pop of “He’s Misstra Know It All”, a sharp, witty takedown of then President Richard Nixon with each lyric painting a devastatingly harsh but accurate portrait of the President as a con man and a hack. It was the first in a series of takedowns of this particular figure, but while others were more popular, Wonder never cut straight to his core the way he does on this effort. The song also benefited from the harmony drenched chorus which mainly consists of the title lyric sung in call and response by Wonder and a multi tracked chorus of himself. The song becomes yet another gospel tinged rave up by the end, with heavy hand clapped percussion and Wonder riffing, coming up with new lyrics and witticisms seemingly on the spot, showing off his upper register with vocal runs that elevate the track from a seemingly polite takedown to him taking complete joy in ripping Nixon a new one. The song hasn’t really dated in the slightest because of the lack of specific details in the lyrics just likening the former President to a back alley con man so it can apply to any terrible corrupt authority figure, making this commentary timeless and able to be listened to again and again.

Over the course of 44 minutes and nine songs Wonder has made a case for his genius as being timeless and diverse, and while he made many other brilliant records, some more sprawling and diverse than this, he has never made a more concise statement of purpose than this one. Political, spiritual, romantic and personal Wonder paints a portrait of himself and the world around him that is startling in its accuracy and its love for everything he discusses. No matter how hopeless he seems, there is always a hint of joy, love and hope that lifts this up to being a masterpiece of emotion. The record could be draining in someone else’s hands, but Wonder performs with such conviction and hope that it is instead endlessly listenable. The moment it ends, you want to embark on the journey again and again, and that is the mark of something truly brilliant. Stevie Wonder was truly a generational talent, and nowhere is that more evident than this record. The self portrait of an artist at his peak.