The Supremes: A Saga of Motown Dreams, Success, and Betrayal

by Mark Ribowsky
Da Capo Press, 480 pp., $26

Shakespearian tragedy that conversely produced everlasting joy (and mind-blowing basslines), Motown’s musical legacy bears careful archaeology amongst casual enthusiasts lest their collateral heartbreak add to the mountain produced by Detroit’s hardscrabble hothouse of dreamers, hustlers, and divas. By the “Where Did Our Love Go?” epilogue of Mark Ribowsky’s sleek The Supremes: A Saga of Motown Dreams, Success, and Betrayal, you’ll never hear one of the vocal trio’s 12 No. 1 smashes the same again. Dreamgirls this isn’t (mostly), as the author establishes in the introduction on his way to casting Motown despot Berry Gordy and lead Supreme Diana Ross as Mr. and Miss Macbeth putting the knives to the group’s pre-high school founder/namer Florence Ballard. That Ballard, who was forced out of the former Primettes in 1967, died an alcoholic in relative squalor a decade later at the age of 32 makes this grim fairy tale of three girls from the projects wear as though the mink and chinchilla around their shoulders came with a matching hatbox of skinned furries. Not only does Gordy’s single-minded thrust of the Supremes to Beatles-esque heights come at the expense of the label’s meteoric well-being, Ross’ equally megalomaniacal ambition leaves behind a vicious trail of “bitch.” Second Supreme Mary Wilson, meanwhile, “a collector of the male gender,” traipses around spineless with the likes of Steve McQueen and Tom Jones. Ribowsky suffers from a precisely paced case of fancy-word syndrome (excursus, adumbrating, theurgist), and he’s the first to admit that credible documentation changes with the Motowner offering it, yet his 20-deep bibliography of label documentation attests to his thoroughness. “Nothing but Heartaches.” –

This article appears in July 17 • 2009.

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San Francisco native Raoul Hernandez crossed the border into Texas on July 2, 1992, and began writing about music for the Chronicle that fall, debuting with an album review of Keith Richards’ Main Offender. By virtue of local show previews – first “Recommendeds,” now calendar picks – his writing’s appeared in almost every issue since 1993.