Once upon a time, there were three talented, beautiful girls from the Brewster Projects in Detroit, Michigan. They became famous, travelling all over the world and defining 60s pop. They became superstars and icons. By the end of the 1960s, one of these three talented, beautiful girls decided to strike out on her own, leaving the other girls to forge on without her.
The Supremes' story is made for Broadway musicals and movie melodramas. The rags-to-riches story of the Supremes is such classic showbiz lore that it defines the cliché. Of course, the story is more than just the plot of a glossy pop soap opera. The Supremes came of age in the 1960s at some of the most tumultuous times in the United States. The Civil Rights Movement defined the era, and the Supremes became a symbol of a social mobility that could be possible without the scourge of racism and segregation. At once political and apolitical, the Supremes became a beacon of respectability politics, glamour, and beauty.
Like many groups, the Supremes' lineup changed significantly in its history. Originally a quartet named the Primettes, Diana Ross, Florence Ballard, Mary Wilson, and Betty McGlown were the first iteration before McGlown's departure, to be joined by Barbara Martin, who left, and the Supremes remained a trio for the rest of its time. Ross, Ballard, and Wilson comprised the group at its height before Ballard was unceremoniously fired, replaced by former Bluebelle Cindy Birdsong. By the end of the 1960s, Ross' inevitable solo career took off, and the group carried on with several more personnel changes.
Few groups or bands can survive without their figurehead or leader, and the Supremes were no different. Changes in music, a label no longer interested in their fortunes, and increasingly subpar material meant that the Supremes weren't able to regain the glory days of their 1960s era. The Ross-led Supremes became iconic and historical—definitive pop of 20th-century American culture. The steep decline once they were left to their own devices is startling.
At the height of the Supremes' 1960s success, they rivalled the Beatles, but because they were the jewels of the Motown hit machine, it was easy to dismiss their artistic merits and contributions. Because visuals were just as important as their sound, the actual impact of the group has often been trivialized and underappreciated. But beautiful gowns, sky-high wigs, and long lashes aren't the story of the Supremes. When gifted with strong material – especially the fantastic work by Motown bards Hollad-Dozier-Holland – the music was essentially perfect pop. Ross was integral to the group's success. Though not the group's strongest singer, she was the most charismatic and commercial, and her girlish coo was inimitable. After Ross' departure, the group struggled because none of the singers brought on after she matched her unique talents.
The '70s Anthology tries to tell the story of the Supremes after Diana Ross, charting the group's initial success and its evolution and change as the 1970s shifted the group's sound, incorporating influences of soul, psychedelic pop, and disco. The span of the material on this double album goes from 1970 to 1977, as the group eventually quietly disbanded. Because the Ross-less Supremes hit some creative and commercial highs early in their iteration, much of the catchiest and most engaging material on the record is front-loaded on the first disc.
The first track, "Up the Ladder to the Roof," is arguably the most enduring single of the Supremes' 70s-era, capturing the magic of their '60s salad days. The song has a smooth, funky sound, and new member Jean Terrell offers a lovely, sterling lead vocal. The Supremes earned another classic with gorgeous "Stoned Love," which sounds like it was sprinkled with Motown fairy dust.
One of the great things that Berry Gordy masterminded as the head of Motown was joining up his superstar acts to consolidate their superstardom and commercial prospects. In the 1970s, the Supremes recorded tracks with the Four Tops, resulting in three studio albums and a string of singles, some of which make it onto this collection, including the solid reworking of Ike & Tina Turner's "River Deep – Mountain High" and Stephen Stills' "Love the One You're With." As the 1970s progressed, the Supremes seemed free to experiment with their sound, and their producers introduced sounds of light rock and rock and soul when performing with the Four Tops. None of these changes were radical – it was still firmly mainstream soul-pop – but the Supremes were willing to step away from the tried-and-tested formula once their commercial fortunes started to dip.
Some of the deeper tracks on the second disc are worth a listen, even if they lack the spark of "Stoned Love" or "Up the Ladder to the Roof." Singles from the group's final album, Mary, Scherrie & Susaye (named after the final lineup: Mary Wilson, Scherrie Payne, and Susaye Green) reunited the band with Brian and Eddie Holland of the legendary Holland-Dozier-Holland trio. The set is an exciting album of disco tracks that deserved more attention. (Even though the pop charts abandoned the Supremes, they still appeared in the top 10 on the dance charts.) The dance tunes, especially "Let Yourself Go" and their final single, "Love I Never Knew You Could Feel So Good," feel a bit poignant to listen to because the Supremes were doggedly trying to gracefully enter the world of disco with minimal commercial gain, while during this time, their former lead singer remade herself as a Queen of Disco.
Ultimately, Ross' looming shadow is a major issue in The '70s Anthology. No matter how great some of these songs are – and some of the material on this collection is excellent – it still pales when compared to the work the group recorded in the 1960s. As talented and wonderful as the singers are, their beautiful voices lack Ross’ inimitable charisma and the harmonies don’t hit the sonic heights of the classic Ross, Ballard, Wilson lineup. Most of the songs on The ‘70s Anthology is good, well-written soul-pop, but much of it sounds blank and anonymous. It feels as if even the best material on this set should be graded on a curve. It's unfair because the 1970s-era Supremes deserve another look. The best way to judge the work on The '70s Anthology is to imagine that this Supremes is a different group altogether. If they had been able to shake off the baggage of their storied history, the Supremes could have continued as consistent hitmakers.