‘Turnin’ My Heartbeat Up’: The five best northern soul songs from 1971
Having blossomed from the tail-end of the mod subculture of the previous decade, 1971 was a pivotal year in the history of northern soul. Amid a global backdrop of industrial action, the Apollo 14 mission to the moon, and the US invasion of Laos, the youth of northern England were concerned with one thing, and one thing only: obscure and impossibly rare floor-filling soul singles.
From the early days of northern soul’s dominance, its Mecca had been Manchester’s Twisted Wheel club; this, after all, was the venue that invented the infamous all-nighters, introduced the biggest northern sounds onto the scene, and spread the gospel of this new and exciting youth culture far and wide across the north. Yet, in early 1971, in the wake of continued police presence and a council vendetta, the club shut its doors for good – for many, northern soul died that very same day.
Nevertheless, northern soul persisted, shifting its cultural centrepoint first to The Torch at Stoke-on-Trent, then to Wigan Casino, a venue whose reputation still precedes it, over four decades on from its closure.
Along with those new venues, of course, came new sounds, with a multitude of floor-filling, footstomping rhythms being discovered on a near-weekly basis during the height of the scene, as more and more crate-diggers made the pilgrimage over to Detroit, New York, Chicago, and any other soul city that sprang to mind, in search of new sounds.
Despite the declaration of some that the death of The Twisted Wheel marked the end of northern soul’s golden age, some of the scene’s most beloved anthems were released post-Wheel. Even if they weren’t immediately discovered by the northern soul realm, these tracks proved that true soul music was still going strong into the early 1970s, even if the American mainstream had largely moved on to politically-charged funk grooves and early hints at disco.
So, join us in our musical time machine as we head back to the days of mustard-coloured sweaters, flared cords, and thousands of sweaty northern youths speeding the night away to the sweet sounds of American soul, as we revisit five northern soul classics released in 1971.
The five best northern soul songs from 1971:
Dee Edwards – ‘Why Can’t There Be Love’
Endlessly sought-after and increasingly expensive, Dee Edwards’ defining single arrived in 1971, in the form of this commanding, funk-tinged groove released via Detroit’s GM Records. A soul veteran, with a discography stretching back to the early 1960s, Edwards could never quite rival the soul domination of her Detroit neighbours on Motown Records, but that didn’t stop her from recording a selection of incredible – and incredibly underappreciated – soul stormers.
‘Why Can’t There Be Love’ is, first and foremost, a masterful dancefloor filler, with its high energy lending itself naturally to the shuffles of northern soul dancers. More importantly, though, it is a brilliant example of how the emerging world of 1970s funk bled into the pre-existing soul scene during that era, creating a genre-defying single that the mainstream perhaps wasn’t ready for at that time. As always, though, the loss of the mainstream soul scene is the gain of dedicated northern soul DJs.
Carolyn Crawford – ‘Ready Or Not Here Comes Love’
Already, we come to a contentious entry in this list; despite only being released in 2019, this recent northern soul masterpiece was recorded back in 1971, so, in our book, it still fits the bill of this particular list. One of the great missed opportunities in soul history, Crawford signed up to Motown at the age of just 14, but never had much of a chance to make an impact at the label.
Nevertheless, the Motown flops were quickly rediscovered and reappraised by northern soul record hunters. Then, in 2019, Kent Records uncovered this lost gem, which had gone unissued, gathering dust in the Motown vaults, for almost 50 years, although it still sounds unbelievably fresh when blasted over the PA of a decent dancehall.
Jesse Fisher – ‘Your Not Loving A Beginner’
What Jesse Fisher’s first single lacks in grammatical accuracy, it more than makes up for in beating northern soul rhythm. Although finding a copy in decent condition is becoming increasingly difficult and, rather confusingly, an entirely different version, recorded during the same sessions, was issued within a few months of the original (with the correct use of ‘You’re/Your’ this time), those kinds of challenges and mysteries only endear the track to northern soul DJs even more.
Fisher continued to record for Cleveland’s Way Out label throughout much of the 1970s, despite a complete lack of attention from the musical mainstream, and almost all of his recordings have made it into the boxes of northern soul DJs at one point or another, but ‘Your Not Loving A Beginner’ is inarguably the stand-out.
Barbara Lynn – ‘Take Your Love and Run’
Maybe the most modestly-priced northern soul classic on this list, ‘Take Your Love and Run’ was first issued in 1971 by Jetstream Records in Texas, and the earworm tune was quickly picked up for national distribution by soul giants Atlantic Records. Lynn herself is an utterly unavoidable figure when it comes to the sonic history of soul and R&B, so it is no surprise that her material has been spun on northern nights with the kind of regularity that is hard to parallel.
This 1971 effort, however, has likely had more of an impact on the scene than any of her other recordings, beautifully exemplifying the power of her distinctive vocal performance and with the kind of backbeat that cannot help but get people to move their feet.
The MVP’s – ‘Turnin’ My Heartbeat Up’
It had to appear here eventually. An iconic call to the floor that has been punctuated by countless backdrops, spins, and energising shuffles since way back in the 1970s, ‘Turnin’ My Heartbeat Up’ does exactly what it says on the tin, building the tempo from unassuming piano keys and hushed vocals into an amphetamine-fueled exertion of soul euphoria. At just over two minutes, the single is capable of keeping a dancefloor moving far beyond its runtime, so it is no surprise that it has ascended to the upper echelon of northern soul favourites over the years.
As for the band themselves, The MVP’s were originally called The Classics, and boasted a residency at an Atlanta club owned by New York Mets first baseman, and 1969 World Series MVP, Donn Clendenon, who convinced them to change their name. From there, they travelled to New York to cut this particular single with the legendary Buddah Records and, mysteriously, it became the only known single they ever released under that baseball-infused band name.
