Am I making up the fact that a digital recording from an analog LP sounds better than some crap from a CD? I have to be making that up, right? But listen to the drums, the cymbals. They sound like cymbals. Not to mention the bass line which digs in under the whole thing. Granted, that has something to do with the bass player, which was likely to have been Stevie himself. He had a band like I have an entourage, which is to say that I am my own entourage just as Stevie is his own band.
But more than that, it’s Stevie’s singing that cometh through with a passion that does not translate as well on Compact Disc, or a Motion Pictures Audio Group audio layer III for that matter. He’s clearly worried. The problem is not that we can’t love, it’s that we have stopped. The heart is a muscle after all. It can be strengthened by use or become flacid with neglect. It’s up to us. Collectively helps, but we can go it alone if we have to. Because the thing is that, unlike water in the Colorado or wheat in the Nile delta, we are not going to run out of love. Can’t be done. So go nuts.
Speaking of which, did you know that this song almost did not get recorded? Stevie Wonder really wanted to quit music and serve orphans in Africa. Stevie Wonder. Serve orphans in Africa. At a time when he had all the popular success of Jay-Z and all the critical acclaim of, well, Stevie Wonder. When Paul Simon won the Grammy for Best Album in 1976, he thanked Stevie Wonder for not making an album that year. When Stevie won in ’77, he was in Africa during the awards. Learning. Loving. Today.