TOP 40 DEBUT: November 17, 1979
PEAK POSITION: #4 (February 2, 1980)
There is no Motown without Smokey Robinson. There’s still a Berry Gordy, which means there’s still a company he starts in 1959, and there’s still (probably) a Hitsville U.S.A. building in downtown Detroit and a roster of raw, up-and-coming talent. But take away the contributions of William Robinson Jr., and there’s no Miracles. No “Shop Around” and “The Tears Of A Clown” and “I Second That Emotion.” No “My Girl” and “The Way You Do The Things You Do” and “My Guy.” Without his presence, there’s every chance Motown simply dies on the vine. Smokey was Motown’s first signed act, its first head songwriter, its first million-selling artist. No one save Gordy himself was more integral to the company’s success in those initial heady, tumultuous years.
But when the landscape of soul music shifted, Robinson receded into the background. By 1972, Gordy had moved Motown to the West Coast. Shortly thereafter, Smokey left the Miracles to focus on his role as vice-president of the label, watching from the sidelines as former peers and protégés—Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Diana Ross—cultivated hugely profitable and culturally important solo careers. He even had to suffer through the indignity of watching his former group hit #1 without him. ("Love Machine (Part 1)" topped the Hot 100 on March 6, 1976, and became the biggest-selling single the Miracles ever had. It's an 8, but there's still something really wrong about that.)
Smokey's "retirement" lasted all of eleven months. By 1973, he started releasing his own solo albums. But they didn’t really sell. So Robinson retreated back to the Motown offices, focused on the business, and slipped further out of mainstream consciousness. Before 1979, he'd released eight studio albums and twenty singles... and missed the Top 20 with all of them. That’s what made the success of “Cruisin’” so special. Smokey Robinson scored his first-ever solo Top 10 at a time when a large swath of the public—and even his own label—had written him off completely.
“Cruisin’” was just the latest fruit of a decades-long partnership between Robinson and Marv Taplin, original guitarist for the Primettes (later to be renamed the Supremes). Robinson helped the fledgling girl group score an audition with Gordy, then promptly stole their guitar player for his own band. Taplin’s distinctive style powered multiple Miracles hits, while his songwriting skills made him a perfect foil for Robinson. Together, the pair composed numerous classics, among them Marvin Gaye’s “Ain’t That Peculiar” (peaked at #8, a 7) and the Miracles’ “The Tracks Of My Tears” (peaked at #16, a 10).
After Smokey split from the Miracles, Marv soon followed, and the two continued to collaborate over the next decade. According to Robinson, Taplin gave him a cassette tape containing the music for “Cruisin’” sometime in the mid-70’s. It would take five years before he found lyrics to match.
In 1979, both Robinson and Taplin were on the cusp of forty. They had wives, kids, grown-up responsibilities. Their songs no longer catered to teenagers; they catered to teenagers’ parents. And it’s that spirit that seeps into every single nook and cranny of “Cruisin’,” an incredibly sensual song made by adults for other adults. The groove takes its time to unwind. The arrangement is uncluttered, with bass gurgles and sighing strings and Taplin’s guitar fluttering around the edges like a brilliant butterfly. Even before the vocal enters, “Cruisin’” is already a masterclass in how to set—and sustain—a mood.
But dear Lord, that vocal. Smokey Robinson’s tenor was always a thing of beauty, aching and alive and almost androgynous in its impossible high notes. That tenor is still present on “Cruisin’,” but now it’s only grown richer and smoother, a Cabernet mellowing with age. Smokey quivers and glides, unhurried yet always in control. His is the easy confidence of a man secure in his own skin, a lover with all the time in the world. Amid a pop landscape littered with adolescent hormones, he makes maturity sound sexy.
It will come as no surprise that Robinson finally landed on the lyrics to “Cruisin’” while literally cruising down Sunset Boulevard. More surprising is the song he heard on the radio for inspiration: “Groovin’” by the Young Rascals. A #1 hit in the summer of 1967 (it’s a 7), “Groovin’” was an outlier for the Rascals, Italian-American kids from Jersey better known for their up-tempo pop numbers. But in that one single, they tapped into the same lazy, effortless cool that Robinson would harness a decade later. If “Groovin’” was all platonic innocence, “Cruisin’” is Smokey revving the engine, putting the top down, and extending the Rascals’ afternoon vibe into the early hours of the morning.
After a four-year absence from the Top 40, the #4 showing of “Cruisin’” reignited Robinson’s career in a big way, and he would record multiple Top 10 entries on both the pop and R&B charts throughout the decade. Statistically, “Cruisin” isn’t Smokey’s biggest solo record, but its slow-burn sexuality makes it his most enduring, serving as a template for both his future hits and a whole new generation of throwback “neo-soul” musicians like D’Angelo. (See below for his cover version.) And in a neat twist, the song itself found new life as a cornerstone track of “quiet storm,” the radio format that not only shifted the sound of R&B in the ‘80s, but also took its name from a 1975 single by… Smokey Robinson.
GRADE: 8/10
BONUS BITS: D’Angelo’s landmark debut, Brown Sugar, felt like an oasis in a desert of shiny, artificial soul when it dropped in the summer of 1995. His take on “Cruisin’” was the album’s second single and peaked at #10 R&B. Also, it could be the best cover of a Smokey Robinson song ever. Here’s the video.
BONUS BONUS BITS: Based on chart numbers alone, the most successful rendition of “Cruisin’” is actually a duet between Huey Lewis (who'll be showing up on this site eventually) and Gwenyth Paltrow. Performed for the now-forgotten 2000 film Duets, their version hit #1 on the Adult Contemporary charts, as well as #1 in Australia and New Zealand (where the Smokey original also peaked two decades earlier). The twin takeaways? Gwenyth can actually sing, and Kiwis really like “Cruisin.”