By Jessica Hundley

Pop music’s history is littered with tales of bad luck, ill timing and missed opportunity. In that vein, unless you’re a dedicated audiophile with a particular affection for the music of mid-20th-century Detroit, you’ve never heard of the Funk Brothers. Oh, you’ve heard the Funk Brothers, rest assured, but not heard of them.

Despite the fact that they are responsible for a staggering list of number-one hits, despite the fact that their lineup included some of the greatest musicians of all time, despite the fact that they made a rich and evocative music that both reflected and colored one of the most tumultuous periods in recent history...despite all this, the Funk Brothers have spent the last 40-odd years languishing in a mild but enduring obscurity.

With the new documentary Standing in the Shadows of Motown, which opened in New York on November 15, filmmakers Paul Justman and Allan Slutsky hope to right the many years of wrongs. Fourteen years in the making, Standing is a revealing look at Motown’s secret weapon, the core group of musicians who formed the label’s in-house band, a diverse collection of local musicians recruited from the Detroit jazz scene. "What happened to the Funk Brothers," claims Slutsky, "is the last great untold story of the 60s."

A musician and author (the film is based in large part on his book of the same name), Slutsky has been struggling to bring the Funk Brothers’ tale to the screen for years, searching aggressively for funding and distribution.

"Here I had a Hope diamond in my hands, and we would pitch it and people would look at me like I was bringing them a sack of garbage," he recalls bitterly. "It just got me so angry that that’s what kept me going. I just did not want these bastards to win."

Tracking down remaining members of the group, enlisting contemporary musicians for testimonials and musical contributions and logging hundreds of hours of footage before Artisan finally gave the green light, Slutsky’s stubborn persistence has resulted in a fascinating portrait of musical innovation and creative collaboration that flourished just under the bright sheen of Motown’s fame. The Funk Brothers, underpaid and overworked, contributed enormously to the label’s remarkable success while remaining sadly emptyhanded themselves.

It’s not that the Funk Brothers weren’t at the right place at the right time. Their music directly mirrored the cultural mood of the 60s, lending Motown the integral ingredients needed for the steady manufacture of high-quality hits. The sound they created is utterly unforgettable, a deep, rich groove flavored by their jazz club moonlighting and their phenomenal improvisational skills. Add to that the warmth of the studio (the infamous "Snake Pit"), the recording technology of the times and the immense talents of a Funk Brother rhythm section anchored by the phenomenal bassist James Jamerson and drummer Benny Benjamin, and you have a beat that provided the foundation for some of the most moving pop music ever made. That’s the Funk Brothers behind "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" and "Heat Wave," "Ain’t Too Proud to Beg" and "You Really Got a Hold on Me," and nearly every other recognizable Motown hit.

"These guys are the soundtrack to our lives," says Slutsky. "This is music everyone knows, the world over, and yet no one knew who was actually playing this music that we all love."

Most of Motown’s tracks were originally recorded without vocal accompaniment, with the label electing instead to audition their formidable stable of singing talent until they found exactly the right fit. Arrangers and writers came and went, star vocalists glowed hot and faded, but the Funk Brothers’ core remained a constant, the group riding a groove that lasted from 1958 to the early 1970s, when Motown abruptly left Detroit’s "Hitsville USA" for California.

By this time firmly entrenched in Michigan lives and families and debts and mortgages, most of the Funk Brothers were reluctant to follow the label westward. Motown offered little in the way of encouragement, and as the paid sessions grew more infrequent, the Brothers scattered.

While the filmmakers aren’t shy about pointing fingers at various figures for the Funk Brothers’ sad demise (an interview with Berry Gordy is glaringly absent), the surviving Brothers themselves, now well into old age, seem remarkably forgiving. Gathered together in Los Angeles for the film’s premiere and a reunion concert at the Knitting Factory’s West Coast venue recently, they just seemed pleased that anyone cares at all.

"We’re just happy," says Jack Ashford, the vibraphonist, percussionist and distinctive tambourine man, "that somebody was still listening."

Taking an obvious cue from Buena Vista Social Club, the filmmakers staged three live Detroit-based Funk Brothers concerts, enlisting the voices of Joan Osborne, Meshell Ndegeocello, Chaka Kahn, Bootsie Collins and Ben Harper. Although at times the film takes on the feel of Behind the Music melodrama, with overwrought reenactments and too-obvious pulls at the heart strings, these live moments are incredibly poignant. Bootsie Collins belting out "Cool Jerk" in full Funkadelic regalia, or Meshell Ndegeocello’s amazing renditions of "You Really Got a Hold on Me" and "Cloud Nine," are stellar moments. The Funk Brothers themselves play like they’ve just emerged from a particularly exhilarating Hitsville session.

"We were nervous," says guitarist Joe Messina, "but once we got on that stage, it was like we had never stopped playing together.

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