21 | Tend to Your Own Business | Motown Vs. Stax
41:01 Share

Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to Black History for Real early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Okay, Conscious, can I be honest with you for just like one second? Uh,

I'll give you two or three. Okay, thank you. I really try not to root for anyone's downfall, but there is something so satisfying when the people that did you wrong and you knew they did you wrong when all of their shit falls apart. Because I've had some jobs where like...

And like, again, I try so hard, but I worked this job where my boss was so terrible to me and gave me such a hard time. And then a few years later, when the company went out of business, I was like, that's why y'all failed. That's why y'all went out of business. I couldn't be the bigger person. Yeah.

You know what? Sometimes I feel like being a bigger person is propaganda. Thank you for affirming me. Wait, what do you do when you're working on something and it goes south or someone you've worked with, you know, the relationship falls apart? What do you do?

Me personally, see, I'm going to do a cost-benefit analysis, you feel me? And try to assess, is this thing worth salvaging? How much time, effort, energy do I put into this versus what I'm getting out? And like, do I really care about it? How much I value it? And, you know, I might try to fight it out until the end. Yeah. Or I might figure out that it's not worth my time, effort, and energy. And I'm going to take my ball and go home. It really just depends. Yeah. No, that...

I think that that's the smart, mature way to move forward rather than me checking the Google alerts to see if the demise came through on time. But what happens often is that time passes and stories change. And over time, you end up perceiving endings in a different light. Yeah, for real, when you look back at it, you know, hindsight is always 20-20. You can see that end coming. The writing was on the wall.

Maybe you forgive your mistakes. You might learn from the L's. Sometimes the L's not just losses, they're lessons learned. And you try to praise yourself for the good things you did, the good things you learned, and you try to just move forward, you know? That's absolutely one of the benefits of telling your own stories. Ah, most definitely. On my mama name. See, knowing your truth, because you can create a whole institution like Motown and everybody gets to wade on your legacy. Or...

I always begin to destroy for the oil. But when you're doing it for the culture, the culture's got a say in how you're remembered. And if you ain't locked in, you might not know. Let's get into some black history for real. It's May 1968 in Memphis. Jim Stewart sits at his desk in a small office that he shares with Al Bell. Shuffling through the papers, golf in Western Center.

This is his second time reading the terms. He signed away the masters to stack earlier records in the Atlantic deal, including Sitting on the Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding and songs by Carla Thomas and Sam and Dave. Everything, everything, everything. And he don't want to get burned again.

Now, Atlantic's being sold to Warner Brothers. Jim and Al don't want Stacks anywhere near it. They don't trust Atlantic's Jerry Rexler anymore. They need a new corporate partner with big pockets. Gulf and Western Industries recently bought Paramount Pictures. Stacks Records will fit nicely into their portfolio. Jim signs the contract.

Just like that. Stack slips under Paramount's umbrella. You wanted to talk? Something wrong with the deal? Estelle walks in and takes a seat at Al's desk. She cuts her eyes at him. Everything's fine. Jim can't be sure, but she seems disappointed there is no crisis. Gotta be his imagination playing tricks on him.

Estelle may have sabotaged a few contracts and relationships with artists, but that was low-level stuff. Annoying, for sure. She's getting back at him for not treating her son well. Jim still doesn't want his nephew around.

We need to make good on our promise to Al. We told him we'll get part ownership of Stacks if he turned the label around. He did that. Before we sign this deal, I want to give him 20% of the company. The only way we give up 20% of Stacks is a split between Steve and Al, 10 each.

Estelle stands. Her anger boils over. She lists all that Steve has done for the company. Steve was there in the beginning. He wrote some of our biggest hits. He deserves 20. Jim tries to reason with them. Stacks lost their biggest star when Otis died. But, Golf and Western saw their track record. How they made something from nothing. Without Al, G and W might have looked them over. We're great partners.

Estelle frowns. I'm your partner. It isn't the same, Estelle. There wouldn't be a Stax for us to argue over if it wasn't for Al. Disgusted, Estelle storms out. Jim rubs his temples. He's torn, like Solomon's choice, family or business. The agreement he's drafting is going to hurt. It'll be enough to make Estelle want to sell her stake in the business.

Forget one-size-fits-all diets. With Noom, you get a personalized weight loss plan that's tailored to your lifestyle. No food is off-limits. Enjoy your favorites while discovering healthier habits. Noom's users love the flexible approach, blending psychology and biology to help you lose weight in a way that's sustainable for you. Stay focused on what's important to you with Noom's psychology and biology-based approach.

Sign up for your trial today at Noom.com. That's N-O-O-M dot com. And check out Noom's first ever cookbook, The Noom Kitchen, for 100 healthy and delicious recipes to promote better living. Available to buy now wherever books are sold.

Give it a try at mintmobile.com slash switch.

Black is beautiful. Black is beautiful.

From Wondery, this is Black History For Real, where we chronicle the stories of movers and shakers from Black history all over the world. The stories will inspire you, educate you, and more often than not, leave you shaking your damn head.

I'm conscious Lee. Then I'm Francesca Ramsey. This week's episode is the last in our four-part series on Motown versus Stax. We're looking at how new trends in the music business changed both labels and how late-game business decisions shaped their legacies. This is episode four, Tend to Your Own Business. ♪

Golf and Western's $4 million deal looks good for Stacks. That's more than $36 million in today's dollars. They've got a rack of operating capital, the freedom to maintain their operations, and Jim and Al got a yearly salary of $75,000. ♪

Everything ain't pizza cream, though. See, less than 25% of the four mil is cash. Jim and Al have to report to Paramount on top of all that. They don't even get paid if they don't make no money for G and W. They may as well be getting paid in exposure. The company lawyer never saw the agreement before Jim signed. He didn't even know there was a deal until it was done.

He can't believe he let Gulf and Weston buy the company with Stacks' own money. But the worst part? The deal wrecks Jim and Estelle's fragile relationship, and the duo goes to war. Estelle's pissed. She mortgaged her house for the equipment, created the record store so producers got sales data. Those sacrifices and efforts meant nothing.

Jim and Al, they've got salaries now. Estelle's got nothing but memories of her sacrifices and stock options. But the deal is structured in a way that prevents her from selling the Gulf and Western stock outright. She can't pay her bills with possibilities. She told Jim and Al she wants to give Steve Cropper 10% and turned Al against her. Jim and Al need to get Estelle out of the way. They want to settle things and get back to making music.

They're dreaming big on the back of the G&W deal. It's time to upgrade the studios, expand the staff. And she just doesn't fit into the plans. Negotiations drag on until July 1969.

Finally, Gulf and Western intervenes. They want the deal done. They rent a suite at the Holiday Inn Rivermont. Jim's legal team on one side of the suite, Estelle's on the other. Gulf and Western execs in the middle, like Switzerland. In the end, Jim and I offer Estelle a $490,000 buyout. Life-changing money.

Like $4.2 million in 2024 money. She negotiates a $25,000 annual salary for the next five years. But there's a catch. She has to sign a non-compete agreement first. Her heart breaks. Estelle can't imagine life without Craig Music. She's out, though, for good.

Al's promoted to vice president. In the company's magazine, Stax Facts, he hypes the company up. It's sent to DJs, distributors, and other industry insiders. Hit records are the number one thing on our list. Soul music has grown from a particular market to become the new music of the nation. It's a move right out of Motown's playbook.

Al's set to take his seat as one of the kings of Black economic empowerment. The bigger Stax gets, the more money he can pour into the Black economy. After he creates a new Stax catalog, all of the old hits Black America was bopping to now belong to Atlantic and Warner Brothers. Al comes up with the solution. It's called the Soul Explosion. 30 singles and 27 albums in the span of a few months. Stax is back in the running. ♪

It's also expanding. Al's running the studio like a corporation, like his hero, Barry Gordon. The OGs ain't happy, though. This ain't the Stax they knew. There are rules now, processes for creating new songs, like a carbon copy of Motown's factory. Jim keeps it to himself, but he doesn't love the new Stax either.

He's not making music anymore. He might as well be working at the back again. He wonders how long he'll be able to last. It's August 1969. Barry Gordy stands in the wings at the L.A. Forum. The Jackson 5 is set to take the stage. Diana's introducing what he hopes will be his next big act.

It's a stroke of marketing genius on Barry's part. If he does say so himself. There's a rumor on the street that Diana discovered the group. It's not true, but he's going to give the people what they want. The group came to Motown through his creative assistant. She heard them singing at a friend's apartment. It might have been the biggest miss of his career if he didn't sign them.

Kids. I don't want kids. When you're a minor, you have to have special chaperone and court approval of the contract, and it is a problem. It might have been a problem if the group wasn't the Jackson 5. He ate his words after hearing that audition. Ten-year-old Michael Jackson sang the lead on Smokey Robinson's Who's Loving You. Smokey wrote it, an ode to an adult's longing and pain.

Little Michael sang that song like he understood it, felt it, even better than Smokey. Barry signed the boys right then and there. Diana glides onto the stage, and the crowd erupts. She commands the audience, and then they lean in. Awed by her presence, she waves to her fans, smiles at them until they calm down, clean. Beaming with pride, she introduces the Jackson 5.

The boys take the stage, ready for their debut. The crowd goes wild again. In the wings, Barry chuckles. Diana's hardly been in her home this month. She's practically moved into his house in Hollywood. They've been talking about marriage, but he fears they're both too ambitious to make it work. And the thing they both love might one day drive them apart. Barry mouths the words to the Disney song the boys are singing, Zippity-Doo-Dah.

Bouncing along with them, Michael holds the audience in the palm of his hands. The kids are star, the future of Motown. Barry feels more excited than he has in years. Motown releases the first Jackson 5 single in early October 1969, I Want You Back. I Want You Back races up the charts and claims the number one spot in January 1970.

The company's famous songwriting trio, Holland, Dozer and Holland, left in 1967. They wanted Barry to run them some more money and give them more creative freedom. They would have had better luck at bleeding the stone because Barry damn sure wasn't happy. Motown's his factory. I Want You Back is a throwback to Motown's heydays. It's a way of proving he doesn't need H.D.H.,

Holland Dozier Holland starts two labels of their own, Inviticus and Hot Wax. By 1970, they have a hit with Frida Payne's Band of Gold. Looks like they don't need Barry either. Word on the street is Holland Dozier Holland took the Motown magic with them when they left.

Barry's ego won't tolerate the gossip or the band of gold proof. He changes the way Motown's songwriting process works. He assembles a team of writers and producers, including himself. The team is nicknamed the Corporation. Faceless and nameless, he doesn't want members of the Corporation to become famous, like Holland, Dazzy, or Holland. That means Corporation members won't get individually billed on songs. They're all ghostwriters.

The corporation writes, I want you back for the Jackson 5. It's their first number one hit. They follow that success with two more hit singles, each written by members of the corporation. Except the experiment doesn't last long. The corporation disbands in 1972. None of them become individually famous, wealthy or a threat. There is planned work.

Just in time for the bubblegum soul of the Jackson 5's early albums to fall out of favor. The Jackson 5 are printed money personified. Barry's not letting the future of Motown crash and burn so quickly. He finds new songwriters to get the Jackson 5 a new sound.

I feel like this part of the story, though, in my mind is why the business to the masters and the business to like to like music becomes so nitty gritty. And I'm just curious on your thoughts on that, because I know you be dabbling in, you know what I'm saying? And I feel like you've been in the industry for a while. So, you know, go share to the viewers what you think on this.

I mean, it's hard being a writer in any field, unfortunately. And writers are often the unsung heroes of the creative fields because it often feels like when your work is really good, people assume that the words are coming from the actor or the musician who's saying it rather than a team of people creating the music and the words and the characterization, whether it be

in the music space or in the film and TV space. So on the one hand, it's like a credit to the writer that the work is so good that people don't realize that they're behind it, but it's also incredibly frustrating. And it seems that to this day, this is a pervasive issue in the music industry where writers are fighting to get credit and they write something for themselves or for someone else and it moves around a bunch.

And then one person comes in and adds a different word or changes the chorus a little bit. And then suddenly they want more credit. They want more points. And it's just unfortunate that we see that also happen in film and TV. And I've had more experience in that arena than in the music side. But it's really frustrating.

Man, man, man. Thanks for unpackaging that right there. You know, my mind was wondering. You know, see, the word on the streets, though, for old Barry Gordy, it's not just a new sound either that he was trying to create. Motown's time in Motor City was over. Barry decides to shake things up. It's a gamble. But he moves the company to Los Angeles.

The move away from Detroit signals the end of an era. It might also be the beginning of the end. As summer winds down, let your imagination soar by listening on Audible. Whether you listen to stories, motivation, expert advice, any genre you love, you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities, new ways of thinking. With Audible, there's more to imagine when you listen.

And speaking of listening, you can listen to the best-selling science fiction thriller Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir right now on the Audible app and traverse the galaxy in a desperate last-chance mission along with astronaut Ryland Grace, all from the comfort of your living room.

As an Audible member, you choose one title a month to keep from their entire catalog. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. That's audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. Want to teach your kids financial literacy but not sure where to start? Greenlight can help. With

With Greenlight, parents can keep an eye on kids' spending and saving, while kids and teens use a card of their own to build money confidence. As a parent, you can send instant money transfers, set up chores, automate allowance, and more. It's a convenient way to run your household, customized to your family's needs, and the easy way to raise financially smart kids. Get started with Greenlight today and get your first month free at greenlight.com slash wondery. ♪ Black is beautiful ♪

It's late November 1972. Johnny Baylor weaves his way through Memphis International Airport. Stack's private security agent and producers got a flight to catch. He's going to visit his family in Alabama. Sharp as ever in his tailored black suit with ultra black sunglasses perched on his face, carries a briefcase. A boxer in another life, he's a businessman now.

He owns and operates Coco Records, K-O-K-O, a reference or a warning about the knockouts he's delivered in the ring. Johnny notices a lot of cops and armed guards around. He points them out to the friend traveling with him. Yeah, man, it's because of those plane hijackings. President Nixon made them get extra police out here.

Johnny's not worried. If somebody tries to hijack his plane, they're going to regret it. He and his friend arrive at the security line. Mr. Baylor, can you open your briefcase? Johnny looks the security agent up and down, sizing them up. All those years running the streets in the Bronx put him to good purpose. He's good at reading people, or so he thinks.

He leans over and whispers in a security guard's ear. You mind if we take this to the side? Can't have people all my business. Off to the side and out of view, Johnny cracks open the briefcase. The agent crouches down a little to see inside. His eyes widen in partial shock as he stands back up. Stacks of $100 bills are packed into the briefcase. Bands on bands on bands. $130,000 total.

That's a lot of money there, Mr. Baylor. Johnny starts to close the briefcase. Yeah, I'm a businessman. The briefcase closes with a snap and Johnny turns to walk away. Hold on a minute. Stay right here. The security agent stops him and disappears. Johnny's starting to feel uneasy.

He glances at his friend, but his friend's watching the returning security agent. And he's not alone. Two more men flank him on either side. Higher ups. Nothing came up stolen in the crime report, Mr. Baylor. But do you mind if we search you? Johnny minds. He minds very much. But he plays it cool. One of the agents pats Johnny down. He finds a check in Johnny's suit jacket pocket.

$500,000. The agents peer at the check, then back at Johnny. Stacks organization wrote this? That's what it says, Donut. I'm a producer at Stacks Records, head of security too. They ask him about the cash. He explains that it's also from Stacks. He plans to give it to his mother in Alabama as a gift. The agents let him through, but he can feel them staring at him as he walks away.

Johnny and his friends take their seats on the plane. Five security agents board, too. They spread out like a church fan. Two different areas of the plane. Johnny turns to his friend before the plane takes off. Hey, man, you should get off this plane and go home. His friend doesn't question him. He just grabs his bag from the overhead bin and leaves. Johnny watches two of the undercover agents follow quickly after him.

When the plane touches down in Alabama, the FBI is waiting. From jail, Johnny calls one person, Al Bell. Al clears things up with the authorities. He vouches for Johnny. The money he had on him at the airport is legitimately his. But the incident caught the attention of the IRS. They begin investigating Stacks.

Just a few months ago, Al was riding high. The Stax fans packed the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum for the Watt Stax Benefit Concert. They danced and sang along with their faves, the staple singers Rufus and Carla Thomas and Isaac Hayes.

The concert was put on in support of the 7th annual Watts Summer Festival. It commemorated the 7th anniversary of the 1965 uprising in Watts. And it was a huge success. Seats only cost $1.

Building community was important to Al. He wanted to make sure people could afford to show up, show out. Stax recorded the concert for a live album, a double LP. The concert was also filmed as a documentary. Al and Jim brought the company back from Goldfield Western a couple of years ago, and he was having the time of his life, being a mover and a shaker in the record industry. The future of Stax was bright.

But Al doesn't notice Jim's gradual withdrawal from the business. It's barely a blip in his awareness. Jim's not having fun anymore. He's doing paperwork, not making music. They're hiring so many people that he doesn't know anyone anymore. The corporate structure at Stax takes him out of his comfort zone and leaves him creatively empty and adrift. He makes rare appearances in the studio, but the musicians think he's lost his touch.

During one of his last studio appearances, Jim wants part of the song taken out in the edit. The producers aren't having it. They argue with him, warn him that cutting that section might lose the white audience. Jim can't believe it. I don't give a good goddamn if we never sell another record to a white person. If I hear any more, you're fired.

Not long after that, Jim tells Al he wants out. I just want to stay in the creative area and sell the company. But this time, sell it for cash. I don't want any more stock. Al sets out to find a new buyer. He dances with a few companies. Ultimately, Columbia Records wins.

Columbia's president, Clive Davis, makes Al feel comfortable. Clive knows music. He loves it almost as much as breathing, and that's the kind of partner Al needs. Al asks Columbia to buy Jim's half of the company. Columbia makes a counteroffer. They'll lend Stacks $6 million. Al can use that money to buy Jim out. Then, starting in October, Columbia will distribute Stacks releases for at least 10 years.

It all seems good until Columbia wants Jim to stay on as Stacks executive for five years. The agreement is structured so that Jim gets $7.6 million for his half of Stacks, $2.5 million up front. The rest doled out over the next five years.

Stacks' budget is tight. They owe Union Planters National Bank $1.7 million. Stacks can't pay the bank and Columbia loans at the same time. Al asks Union Planters to let Stacks pay Columbia back first. The bank says they believe the Columbia deal will make Stacks into more of a powerhouse. The Union Planters agreement turns out to be a big mistake for Stacks. ♪

February 1975. South side of Chicago. Barry's on the set of Mahogany, starring Diana Ross. He took over directing the film a few months earlier after firing British director Tony Richardson. Diana couldn't stand how Tony treated her. She felt he ignored her complaints. Placing her up against another actor she didn't even think could act. It was embarrassing. She had somebody else in mind. Tony ain't care.

It was a two-bit role for one scene. Barry ran interference. He thought he had talked Tony into going with Diana's choice of actors. But then they showed up on set. Tony gone right back to the original choice. Barry confronted him, but the director wouldn't budge. In front of everyone, Barry fired Tony. Loudly. Tony flashed Barry a chilling smile. "Okay, it's all yours."

Tony walked off the set immediately, leaving Barry holding the director's bag. It's been rough going ever since. Now, Barry's having his own difficulties with Diane. They fight on set constantly, and Barry never saw it coming. They've known each other for so long and spent years in love. It's been over for a while now, but still, he thought they were close to something special.

Diana's doing some pickup shots. Filming's almost over. Thank God. Very years out. Diana, we're going to do another take. No, we're not. I'm going home. The crew gets quiet. Unsure of what to do, he gets out of the director's chair and walks over to her. His voice is gentle but firm. He knows she's been under a lot of stress lately. I want to do another take. It's important for continuity.

Shocked, Barry raises a hand to his stinging cheek, but he recovers quickly. Calls her name as he trails after her. Someone hands him his glasses. They'd flown right off his face. Don't go, Diana. Please. Can't you just stay? We can sort all this out later, but I got too much money tied up into this. I don't care about your money, Barry. That money represents my belief in you.

I've been here since day one because I know how talented you are. Just give me one more day. You've had enough of my days. You can't leave like this. Don't you dare tell me what I can't do, Barry. I'm leaving. If you walk out now, you'll never make another movie with my money. Diana ain't impressed by his words or their veiled threat. She spins on her heel and leaves. The room's silent and heavy without her.

Barry drops into a chair, head in his hands. He can't believe she embarrasses him in front of all those people. He can't wrap his mind around it. She actually left. For the first time in their relationship, he's got no control. The emotional fallout unfolds inside Barry for weeks. He's quiet and keeps to himself, drained of all his inspiration.

His heart isn't in Motown anymore. Mahogany performs fine at the box office. A single from the soundtrack does better. Theme from Mahogany reaches number one on the Billboard Top 100. The song's also nominated for an Academy Award. Barry's exhausted, though. As Motown's records and productions leader, he's pretty hands-off now. Industry insiders are whispering...

Maybe the company needs new leadership, fresh perspective, people with the energy to deal with the growing competition. Not long after leaving Detroit for Los Angeles, he does away with the quality control system. Artists have more creative control, but the quality's suffering. Motown's music isn't living up to the standard people expected. The staff's confused.

Barry's vanishing act leaves a power vacuum and a fuzzy chain of command. Even worse, Barry hasn't had his hand on the pulse of young America for so long, he misses the early days of the disco trend. And the situation's about to go from bad to worse. By 1975, Stax is bankrupt. Johnny Bailey's trip to Alabama took a slow-moving wrecking ball to the company.

The IRS looked into the company and determined Stacks was guilty of 13 counts of tax fraud and expense account violations. Not to mention those massive payments to Johnny Baylor. The cash just under one hundred and thirty thousand dollars in the five hundred thousand dollar check Johnny had at the airport.

Stacks paid him more than $2.7 million, including all that money at the airport over the next nine months.

Ultimately, the IRS failed to bring charges against Al Bell or Stacks Records. But a Memphis federal jury did indict Al on 14 counts of bank fraud. Al was accused of partnering with the union planner's national bank officer, Joseph Harwell. Together, they allegedly took $1.8 million from the bank through fraudulent loans, credit extensions and overdrafts.

On August 2nd, 1976, Al's acquitted of all charges. Harwell's serving a five-year federal prison term for embezzlement when he's found guilty on two counts of fraud. Harwell admitted to forging Al's signature on certain loan documents. Al shares some responsibility, though. He actually did sign fraudulent loans, but only because he trusted Harwell.

Al signed whatever Harwell asked him to, never reading a word. Union planners fight with Columbia Records over Stacks' remains. By November 1977, everything is settled. Columbia Records winds up with $750,000. Union planners end up getting $500,000. The $100,000 remaining is split between former employees and the IRS.

Financially, Jim loses practically everything. He falls into a deep depression when Stax closes. Friends worry about his mental health and visit him every day for weeks. But Al won't give up on music. He moves his family to Washington, D.C., and starts a new record label. He calls it the Independence Corporation of America and operates the label out of a friend's car. The man makes phone calls from a phone booth.

The very first single from the ICA hits the top 10 on Billboard's R&B charts. The label has a few other hits, but his cash flow problems don't stop. Distributors don't pay him on time. He decides his location is the problem. D.C. is too expensive. He packs up his family. They move to Little Rock, Arkansas, where Al grew up. The label keeps trucking into the mid-80s before Al finally slows down.

He can't foot the bill anymore. He's got to get a new job. This season, Instacart has your back-to-school. As in, they've got your back-to-school lunch favorites, like snack packs and fresh fruit. And they've got your back-to-school supplies, like backpacks, binders, and pencils. And they've got your back when your kid casually tells you they have a huge school project due tomorrow.

Let's face it, we were all that kid. So first call your parents to say I'm sorry, and then download the Instacart app to get delivery in as fast as 30 minutes all school year long. Get a $0 delivery fee for your first three orders while supplies last. Minimum $10 per order. Additional terms apply. It's January 1988. A restaurant in Beverly Hills. Al Bell follows the hostess as she escorts him to a patio table.

It's a hell of a view. The city looks almost peaceful. Palm trees kiss the light blue sky. Sunlight bounces from one high rise to another and glitters like Motown's glory days. California was the right move for Al.

He re-established contacts in the music industry and networked relentlessly. Eventually, he landed on artist management. His firm represents artists like Prince and Mavis Staples. Life's good. He misses his family, though. They stayed behind in Little Rock, not willing to be uprooted again for his dreams. A server comes by and asks if he'd like something to drink. But Al says he'll wait. He's early and wants to make a good impression.

Hey there, Al. Sorry I'm late. Al stands and shakes Barry Gordy's hand, a man he's admired for more than half of his life. Barry's 10 minutes early, which to him is late. Al knows this about him. He's done his research. Halfway through lunch, Barry's talking about his troubles at Motown, particularly distribution. We can't promote our artists effectively. Sales are dropping like lead.

We've had the same problem at Stax. That's why I asked you here. How about you come work for Motown? Al takes a sip of his water, tries to give himself time to think. His mind is on fire. The Barry Gordy wants to work with him. I'd be honored to bring Motown back to its glory days.

They hammer out the terms over dessert, but Al's only half listening. This is his second chance in the big leagues. He's practically jumping with excitement and already making plans to revitalize Motown. He imagines himself in the corner office at Motown's Hollywood headquarters, a black company that empowers black people. That's where he belongs. At least that's what he thinks until he sees the company behind the curtain. Motown's in more financial trouble than Al imagined.

Barry already tried to sell the company to MCA, but the deal fell through at the last minute. He felt they were cheating him. Al steps in as president of Motown Records. It's a part of a company-wide restructuring. He promotes from within in the number of high-paid executives of five. Al's top goal is to put Motown back at the forefront of black music.

He gives interviews to black magazines. He says Motown's going back to its real foundation of R&B music, not pop soul music. But behind the scenes, Al encourages Barry to sell the company while Motown is still worth something.

Smokey Robinson encourages him to sell too. He sees the weariness written on Barry's face. Smokey's annoyed at all the Black community leaders and entertainers calling Barry. They tell him not to sell Motown. They say Motown is Black folk's heritage. But Smokey gives it to Barry straight. Sell this sucker and go buy your island.

Barry's worried about his legacy and afraid Motown might get lost in a big conglomerate. Smokey reassures him that Motown's legacy is secured. Nothing and no one could ever take away what Barry did for Black music.

In June 1988, Berry sells Motown to MCA Records and Boston Ventures for $61 million.

The deal includes the Motown name, master tapes, and the artist's contracts. Motown Productions, Stone Diamond Music Publishing, and Joe Beat Music Publishing are not a part of the sales. Most important to Al was Barry's stipulation about Black ownership. He negotiated that 20% of the ownership be available to Black investors or other people of color. ♪

Jim never fully recovered from Stacks' bankruptcy, emotionally or financially. In 1981, the IRS seized his home. He moved his family and sold some of his possessions at auction. A few assets left in his wife's name kept Jim and his family out of complete poverty. In the end, his relationship with Estelle never recovered. When his nephew died, he wasn't even listed as a surviving relative.

In the 1980s, Jim supervised a few projects for former Stax artists, but they were few and far between. He decided to quit the business completely before the end of the decade. His heart just wasn't in it. In 1997, Stax was resurrected in a different form. A few old-timers from Stax thought about ways to memorialize the record company. They got together with community leaders and philanthropists to create the Soulsville Foundation.

The organization got to work on several different projects: the Stax Museum of American Soul Music, the Stax Music Academy, and the Soulsville Charter School.

Motown is still making new music today, but in a new form. Universal Motown was founded in 2005. Stax and Motown helped birth soul music and did their best to adapt as the genre evolved. They continue to inspire future generations of artists, and for that, we thank and salute them.

If you like Black History for Real, you can listen early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.

This is the last episode of our four-part series, Motown vs. Stacks. We use multiple sources when researching our stories, including To Be Loved by Barry Gordy, Soulsville, USA by Rob Bowman, and Respect Yourself by Robert Gordon.

♪♪

Lindsay Gomez is the development producer. The production coordinator is Taylor Sniffen. Sophia Martins is our managing producer. Our associate producer is Sonia May. Matt Gant is our producer. Morgan Givens and Dave Schilling are the senior producers. Our senior story editor is Phyllis Fletcher. The executive producers for Wondery are Marshall Louis, Erin O'Flaherty, and Candace Manarica-Zrenn.

BP added more than $130 billion to the U.S. economy over the past two years by making investments from coast to coast. Investments like building EV charging hubs in Washington state and starting up new infrastructure in the Gulf of Mexico. It's and, not or. See what doing both means for energy nationwide at bp.com slash investing in america.