The Contours - Classic Motown

About the Song

“Do You Love Me” is a classic soul song written by Berry Gordy Jr. and recorded by The Contours in 1962. It became a number-one hit on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and has been covered by many famous artists.

The song is a heartfelt plea from a man to the woman he loves. The lyrics are simple but profound, expressing the desire to be loved and the fear of rejection.

“Do You Love Me” has some notable features:

  • Upbeat tempo: The fast and strong tempo with driving beat creates excitement and engagement in the song.
  • Vocals: Billy Gordon’s powerful and soulful vocals successfully conveyed the message of the song.
  • Chorus: The simple yet catchy chorus “Do you love me? Do you love me? Tell me now” has become a classic line in music.

“Do You Love Me” is a song that has had a major impact on American music. It is considered one of the greatest soul songs of all time and has been used in many movies and TV shows.

Here is some additional information about the song:

  • Year of release: 1962
  • Genre: Soul
  • Composer: Berry Gordy Jr.
  • Recorded by: The Contours
  • Charting: #1 Billboard Hot 100
  • Album: Do You Love Me (1962)

“Do You Love Me” is a timeless song that has stood the test of time. It brings the listener excitement, elation, and sincere emotions about love.

In addition, the song also has some famous cover versions performed by artists such as:

  • The Beatles
  • The Rolling Stones
  • Otis Redding
  • Stevie Wonder

Each version brings its own unique touch to the song, but all of them capture the vibrant energy and lasting influence of “Do You Love Me”.MOTOWN MONDAYS! SPOTLIGHTS ON THE CONTOURS – Motor City Radio Flashbacks

Video

Lyrics: Do You Love Me

You broke my heart
‘Cause I couldn’t dance
You didn’t even want me around
And now I’m back to let you know
I can really shake ’em down

Do you love me? (I can really move)
Do you love me? (I’m in the groove)
Now do you love me (do you love me?)
Now that I can dance? (dance)

Watch me now (work, work)
Oh, work it out, baby (work, work)
Well, you’re drivin’ me crazy (work, work)
With a little bit of soul now (work)

I can mash potato (I can mash potato)
And do the twist (I can do the twist)
Now tell me, baby (tell me, baby)
Do you like it like this? (do you like it like this?)
Tell me (tell me)
Tell me

Do you love me? (do you love me?)
Now do you love me? (do you love me?)
Now do you love me (do you love me?)
Now that I can dance? (dance)
Dance

Watch me now (work, work)
Oh, shake it up, shake it (work, work)
Oh, shake ’em, shake ’em down (work, work)
Oh, little bit of soul now (work)

(Work, work)
Oh, shake it, shake it, baby (work, work)
Oh, you’re driving me crazy (work, work)
Oh, don’t get lazy (work)

I can mash potato (I can mash potato)
Do the twist (I can do the twist)
Well, now tell me, baby (tell me, baby)
Do you like it like this? (do you like it like this?)
Tell me (tell me)
Tell me

Oh, do you love me? (do you love me?)
Now do you love me? (do you love me?)
Now do you love me? (do you love me?)
(Now, now, now)

(Hey! work, work)
Oh, work it out, baby (work, work)
Well, you’re driving me crazy (work, work)
Oh, don’t you get lazy (work)

(Work, work)
Oh, hey, baby (work, work)
Well, you’re driving me crazy (work, work)

You Missed

BOUND BY A STORMY TIDE OF TOXIC LOYALTY AND DEEP DEVOTION, LORETTA LYNN TURNED HER HUSBAND’S GREATEST DEMONS INTO THE UNFLINCHING ANTHEMS OF WORKING-CLASS AMERICA. When fifteen-year-old Loretta Webb married twenty-one-year-old Oliver “Doolittle” Lynn in 1948, she stepped into a life that would test every ounce of her endurance. It was Doolittle who bought her a modest seventeen-dollar Sears guitar—the very instrument that unlocked her destiny—and pushed a terrified young mother onto stages to share her voice with the world. Without his initial push, the legendary Coal Miner’s Daughter might never have found her path. Yet their domestic reality was a far cry from a romanticized country ballad. Doolittle’s heavy drinking, infidelity, and volatile temper left deep emotional scars, but Loretta refused to break. Instead of retreating, she fought back, stayed for her six children, and funneled that raw, agonizing truth straight into her songwriting. Anthems like “Don’t Come Home A-Drinkin’” and “Fist City” ripped the gloss off conventional marriage, giving a public voice to millions of women suffering behind closed doors. She famously noted that every song she wrote carried a piece of her husband inside it. They crossed the milestone of forty-eight years together on January 10, 1996. As Doolittle’s health deteriorated months later, Loretta sang “Wouldn’t It Be Great” to him—the final song she performed for the man who shaped her life before he passed away on August 22, leaving them just 225 days short of their forty-ninth year. Though their union was a turbulent storm of fierce love and deep pain, Doolittle gave her the instrument, their trials gave her the truth, and Loretta forged both into an immortal musical legacy.

BROUGHT IN SOLELY TO SATISFY A RADIO SPONSOR’S ODD DEMAND, ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD ROSE MADDOX STEPPED UP TO THE MICROPHONE AND BECAME THE UNTAMED, ELECTRIFYING HEART OF AMERICA’S MOST COLORFUL HILLBILLY BAND. Rose Maddox didn’t enter country music through a polished Nashville doorway paved with industry blueprints. She arrived via the brutal reality of Depression-era migration, pulling her family away from backbreaking fieldwork in California’s Central Valley where music wasn’t glamour—it was the only way to breathe after a grueling day of picking fruit. In 1937, her brother Fred managed to secure a radio slot for the family in Modesto, hitting a sudden roadblock when the sponsor insisted on having a girl singer. Out of pure necessity rather than career design, eleven-year-old Rose stepped forward. The moment she opened her mouth, however, that simple sponsorship checkbox became the entire focal point. Her voice was bright, razor-sharp, and entirely fearless, sounding less like a child helping out her kin and more like someone kicking the front door off its hinges from the inside. Dubbing themselves “America’s Most Colorful Hillbilly Band,” the Maddox brothers and Rose delivered a high-octane cocktail of honky-tonk drive, boogie-woogie, gospel heat, and flashy road-show swagger. Dressed in loud, eye-catching suits, they played with a raw ferocity that West Coast country had never witnessed. Long before country music knew how to frame women who were funny, stylish, and fiercely commanding, Rose stood right at the front—refusing to ever be treated as mere stage decoration. After the family band’s legendary run dissolved, she forged a formidable solo path, diving deep into bluegrass and earning a well-deserved Grammy nomination for $35 and a Dream, an album title that tipped its hat to her family’s hardscrabble journey west. The young girl once thrown on stage to fill a sponsor’s quota ultimately became the gold standard of raw authenticity—proving to generations of future artists that country music has always possessed an unquenchable fire.