Advertisement

Pride and Joy

Share
Special to The Times

The last time the NBA All-Star game was played in Los Angeles, Julius Erving led the East to a 132-123 victory over Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Magic Johnson and the rest of the West team.

Few remember that game. What stands out about that 1983 All-Star game is Marvin Gaye’s revolutionary version of the national anthem.

With a hand-mixed tape providing a grooving backbeat, Gaye powered and simmered through Francis Scott Key’s patriotic warhorse, infusing it with equal parts soul, funk and gospel. For nearly three minutes, the capacity crowd of 17,505 at the Forum clapped in rhythm as 24 basketball superstars swayed in place along the foul lines.

Advertisement

“It reminded me of Jimi Hendrix’s anthem at Woodstock,” Abdul-Jabbar said. “Marvin changed the whole template, and that broadened people’s minds. It illuminated the concept, ‘We’re black and we’re Americans. We can have a different interpretation [of the anthem], and that’s OK.’ ”

Next weekend, during the NBA’s All-Star Saturday night festivities at Staples Center, Gaye’s anthem will be reprised with a family twist. Nona Gaye will perform “The Star-Spangled Banner” in a duet with her late father, using digitally enhanced video and remastered audio of the original performance. Grammy Award-winning music producer Jimmy Jam will oversee the production.

“I’m nervous and exhilarated and honored at the same time,” Gaye said. “I can’t believe I’m going to sing with my daddy.”

Gaye, 29, compares the performance to Natalie Cole’s “Unforgettable” duet with her late father, Nat “King” Cole. The difference, she said, is that “I will be performing live, in front of millions of people. It’s a little more frightening, but a little more exciting.”

She also admits that the experience will bring back bittersweet memories. Gaye was 8 when she watched her father perform the anthem, but it would be the last hurrah for a singer whose genius was surpassed only by his personal torment and drug abuse. The next year, he was shot and killed by his father.

“I believe a part of Father wanted to die, but I also believe that he did not want to kill himself,” Gaye said. “My father and my grandfather were two volatile men who had not liked each other their entire lives.”

Advertisement

*

In the late 1970s, the NBA was in the doldrums. There was talk that several teams might fold; CBS televised the championship series on tape delay.

“The perception was that drugs were a problem and that the league was ‘too black,’ ” said broadcaster Dick Stockton.

The ’83 All-Star game was the first at the Forum since 1972, when L.A.’s Jerry West connected on a 20-foot buzzer beater for a 112-110 West win.

Lon Rosen, then Laker director of promotions, had originally selected former Commodores lead singer Lionel Richie to sing the anthem. When Rosen phoned the NBA for its consent, an official asked, “Who’s Lionel Richie?”

Somewhat taken aback, Rosen sought recommendations from Magic Johnson and other Lakers. Gaye was among the artists suggested.

Born and raised in a Washington, D.C., slum, Gaye had an unhappy childhood. According to David Ritz, author of “Divided Soul: The Life of Marvin Gaye,” Gaye’s father beat him regularly and disparaged his musical efforts.

Advertisement

Gaye found his way at Motown. His luscious, elegant voice -- heard on such hits as “I Heard It Through the Grapevine” -- made him a superstar. His masterpiece album, “What’s Going On” (1971), made him a generational icon as relevant as Bob Marley or, later, Kurt Cobain.

In late 1982, Gaye returned to the spotlight with the hit song “Sexual Healing.”

For the All-Star game, Gaye told friends, he was determined to stylize the anthem in his own way. He was also eager to appear in front of the NBA’s best. Basketball was his other love, and he played regularly at his Calabasas home and in the parking lot behind his recording studio in Hollywood.

The day before the game, Gaye and brother-in-law Gordon Banks used a drum machine and guitar to mix a background tape. The result was a languid, reggae-inspired rhythm similar to the sound that drove “Sexual Healing.”

“Marvin told me that he was thinking about [singer] Mahalia Jackson and how she would do it,” Ritz said. “He was grooving on the gospel aspect and how he was able to juxtapose patriotism with spiritualism and sexuality.”

By noon on game day, however, Gaye had not shown up at the Forum. Frantic, the Lakers’ Rosen secured his usual backup, an usherette, and told her to be ready. Five minutes before CBS went on the air, Rosen spotted Gaye making his way to the floor, dressed in a double-breasted suit and wearing mirrored aviator sunglasses.

As Gaye strolled onto the court, Banks’ funkified mix began to play.

“I thought, ‘Man, they brought the wrong cassette,’ ” said Laker public address announcer Lawrence Tanter. “I thought, ‘He’s going to sing “Sexual Healing.” ’ “

Advertisement

Gaye sang the first line in a plaintive whisper, and as he wrapped his voice around the word “see,” he was greeted by a waiting-to-exhale holler. Warming to the task, allowing the music to fill the long pauses he inserted, he transformed the anthem into a sultry personal plea that was at once irreverent and sacred.

“I usually said the Lord’s Prayer during the anthem to get myself focused for each game,” said Denver Nugget forward Alex English. “I saved it for later when I heard what Marvin was singing.”

Tanter and Rosen recall hearing scattered boos, but they were soon drowned out. Gaye punctuated “the rockets’ red glare” with clenched fists and bent knees, and as he swept toward the conclusion, the crowd joined in, clapping with the beat.

“I don’t think he was intentionally trying to offend or upset anybody, but I also don’t think he cared whether or not he did,” Nona Gaye said. “I think that he wanted to say, ‘I’m going to sing the song with feeling and try to move men’s minds.’ ”

*

Now, 21 years later, Gaye’s revolutionary rendition has taken on new meaning. It has come to represent a bridge between a strait-laced league struggling to find its identity and a global entertainment powerhouse. In a sense, Gaye’s anthem foreshadowed the evolution of pro basketball, from Jerry West’s dribbling silhouette within the NBA logo to Michael Jordan’s soaring Nike “Airman.”

Now, the NBA’s image is inextricably linked to youth culture, especially hip-hop. Kids flash their Air Jordans; Snoop Dogg wears his favorite team jerseys in music videos; Lil’ Bow Wow stars in the basketball film “Like Mike.”

Advertisement

“Marvin’s anthem was an indication that the NBA was prepared to embrace the popular culture of America, with African Americans at the center of it,” said USC cinema professor Todd Boyd.

“As [Commissioner David] Stern brought his marketing skills to bear, the NBA went from being mildly popular in the early 1980s to becoming the worldwide commodity it is today -- an identifiable American brand as visible as Starbucks and McDonald’s.”

Gaye did not live to see it happen. That fall, holed up in the home he had bought for his parents, he spiraled into a cocaine-induced haze.

On April 1, 1984, an argument with his father turned violent. Gaye was shot twice and died at a hospital. He would have turned 45 the next day.

At the Lakers’ next home game, Rosen played Gaye’s anthem in tribute.

This year, with the All-Star game back in L.A., the NBA decided to pay tribute to Gaye by inviting his daughter to sing this unusual duet.

Since kicking her own drug habit in the 1990s, Nona Gaye has become a successful actress, with meaty roles in “Ali” and the final two installments of the “Matrix” trilogy. She appears in the new film “Crash,” starring Brendan Fraser, Matt Dillon and Sandra Bullock.

Advertisement

A South Bay resident, Gaye believes her appearance during All-Star weekend will respect her father’s legacy. She says she will harmonize with her father’s anthem as her 6-year-old son, Nolan, stands by her side.

“There will be three generations of my family together,” she said. “I can’t think of a better way to honor my father and his memory.”

David Davis is a contributing writer for Los Angeles magazine.

Advertisement