25 Stevie Wonder Songs That Changed Music Forever

Forbes

6 hours ago

American singer-songwriter and keyboard player Stevie Wonder performs on a television show in ... More London, circa 1974.
Stevie Wonder is one of the most influential artists in American music history. Born Stevland Hardaway Judkins in 1950 in Saginaw, Michigan, he developed blindness shortly after birth due to retinopathy of prematurity. But by age eight, Wonder played piano, harmonica and drums. By 11, he was signed to Motown Records and at 13, he topped the Billboard Hot 100 with 'Fingertips, Part 2,' becoming the youngest artist ever to do so. That was in 1964, marking the moment when popular music discovered it had a prophet in its midst. Wonder dismantled the very architecture of American music and rebuilt it from the ground up by reinventing what pop, R&B and soul could become. As his career grew, it became apparent that the range of his voice and artistry was largely influenced by the Black church music of his childhood.
Through the 1970s, he released a string of classics, including Talking Book, Innervisions and Songs in the Key of Life, each album a masterpiece that experimented with funk, R&B, soul, pop and gospel. He was among the first to embrace the Moog synthesizer, turning electronic bleeps into human cries on 'Superstition' and impressively layering his own voice beautifully on 'Higher Ground.' Wonder's greatest innovation was the fact that he could show the world that artistry and vulnerability could coexist and that he didn't need to sacrifice the emotional intimacy in his songs to be marketable. In a career spanning six decades, Wonder has helped to redefine what it means to build a legacy that balances innovation, emotion and cultural leadership.
Top Stevie Wonder Songs
From his early beginnings as a child prodigy to his era-defining run in the 1970s, Wonder has consistently pushed the envelope of what pop, soul and R&B could be. Some of his most iconic songs, including 'Superstition,' 'Sir Duke,' 'Living for the City,' 'As,' 'I Wish' and 'Isn't She Lovely,' are now recognized as global classics. When people talk about Stevie Wonder's music, they're referring to songs that shifted the course of popular music, both sonically and culturally. His most legendary creative streak is often called 'the greatest creative run in the history of popular music.' Between 1972 and 1976, Wonder released five groundbreaking albums: Music of My Mind (1972), Talking Book, Innervisions (1973), Fulfillingness' First Finale (1974) and Songs in the Key of Life (1976). Three of these—Innervisions, Fulfillingness' First Finale and Songs in the Key of Life—earned the Grammy for Album of the Year, an achievement that cemented his status as a visionary artist. Some of the biggest names in modern music—including Michael Jackson, Beyoncé, Tupac, Drake, Frank Ocean and Janelle Monáe—have all cited him as a defining inspiration.
To build this list of Stevie Wonder's greatest songs, I prioritized three factors: popularity, commercial success and cultural impact.
What started out as a 12-year-old kid with a harmonica working a crowd at Chicago's Regal Theater during a Motortown Revue show became one of the most iconic music moments in Motown history. A young Stevie Wonder asked the crowd to 'Clap your hands just a little bit louder,' and they obliged in what would become a seismic shift in popular music. What should have been a simple harmonica-and-bongo number turned into something nobody saw coming—a chart-topper that sat at number one for three weeks straight, making Wonder the youngest artist to ever pull that off. Even Marvin Gaye was there behind the drums, years before his own stardom. It's one of those lightning-in-a-bottle moments that no music executive could manufacture, predict or replicate. So why does this track still matter decades later? Because it established the template for live performance that rock, soul and hip-hop would spend decades chasing, proving that Wonder's musical genius and stage presence didn't wait for adulthood to announce itself. The iconic song won Wonder his first Grammy Award for Best Rhythm & Blues Instrumental Performance in 1964. The song was also featured in Jordan Peele's sci-fi horror film, Nope, and listed on the soundtrack for More American Graffiti.
There are inflection points in every great artist's career—moments when potential crystallizes into genius. For Stevie Wonder, that moment arrived with "Uptight," a three-minute manifesto that saved his career and rewrote the grammar of American popular music. After years of tepid sales that had Motown executives questioning whether their boy wonder had staying power, Wonder co-wrote this celebration of working-class dignity with Sylvia Moy, who had to sing him the lyrics line by line as he recorded them—the words weren't available in Braille, but the soul was already there. That infectious groove—part James Brown swagger, part Detroit assembly line precision—influenced funk and hip-hop and reinvented the template they would follow. The song became the soundtrack for a working-class generation struggling between the tension of aspiration and the dream of upward mobility. The song has been featured in movies like Glory Road, Down to Earth and Why Do Fools Fall in Love. The song was nominated for Best R&B Song and Best R&B Performance at the Grammy Awards in 1966. It also peaked at number three on the U.S. Billboard Pop Singles chart and number one on the Billboard R&B Singles chart.
There are love songs that capture the essence of young love, and then there's 'I Was Made to Love Her,' a joyous song that reformatted the emotional physics of devotion itself. By 1967, Wonder had already proven he could write, but this song showed that he could take the universal language of infatuation and make listeners feel cosmic and intimate. While the song itself is simple, Wonder helps build a cathedral of sound around it, with that irresistible bassline serving as foundation and his soaring vocals as spire. The production has the kind of meticulous care that makes complex arrangements sound effortless—every horn stab, every backing vocal, every rhythmic accent perfectly calibrated to support the central revelation that some people are simply born to love one person completely. When he croons 'I was made to love her,' it carries the weight of prophecy, as if he's uncovered some absolute truths about romantic connection. It's Wonder at his most transcendent, proving that some of the best pop songs don't just reflect emotions but sanctify them. The track earned Wonder three Grammy Award nominations in 1968, including Best R&B Song, Best Male Vocal Performance and Best Male R&B Vocal Performance. The track was featured in the 2001 documentary I Was Made to Love Her: The Double Dutch Documentary.
What began as an 18-year-old's fumbling attempt at romantic grandeur—a love-struck Wonder created what he hoped would be an epic ballad at the Michigan School for the Blind—evolved into one of pop music's most exquisite studies in longing. The song was originally titled "Oh, My Marsha," but at the time was shelved by Berry Gordy's vault for over a year, because he deemed it too raw for Motown's sound at the time. But genius has its timeline. When Sylvia Moy transformed it with her inspired bilingual reimagining as "Ma Chérie Amour," it exposed the organic power of authentic expression over corporate calculation. The French title was cultural alchemy, transforming a Michigan teenager's crush into something both intimate and cosmopolitan—Motown's chitlin-circuit soul suddenly fluent in continental whispers. The song climbed from number 70 to number four on both pop and R&B charts, proving that sometimes the most memorable art forms emerge not from calculated design but from allowing rough emotions to evolve into classics.
Before Wonder became a complete auteur, he was already transforming other people's songs into mediums for his own vision. Ron Miller and Orlando Murden's composition found its definitive voice when 18-year-old Wonder took the tender ballad and made it ebullient. Where the original songwriters made this song a quiet love confession, Wonder decided that unbridled celebration better suited the vibe of the song and his arrangement turned whispered gratitude into something more celebratory. The song represented an important time in Wonder's artistic pivot from musical prodigy to an artist who could interpret material that was not his own with effortless finesse. At first, Motown chief Berry Gordy didn't hear the magic in the song, so it took Billie Jean Brown, head of Motown's Quality Control, to push for its release. Her instincts were spot-on, and the song peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100 and became the title cut for one of his most commercially successful early albums, his acclaimed 1968 album of the same name. It also peaked at No. 1 on the Cash Box Top 100 and No. 2 on the R&B charts. This track established Wonder as not just a gifted songwriter but a transcriptive vocalist capable of making any song unmistakably his own. The song has been featured on several TV shows and movie soundtracks, including Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, Scandal, Shrek Forever After (2010) and The Truth About Cats & Dogs (1996).
By 1987, as MTV's glossy hegemony threatened to render veteran soul artists obsolete, Wonder returned his trademark keytar and released "Skeletons"—a taut, funk-infused record proving his continued relevance in an increasingly synthetic landscape. The track's moral examination of lies and buried secrets showed Wonder at his most cinematically noir, taking personal betrayal and making it into a catchy song that made critics stop and listen. Beneath the song's sleek, synthesizer-driven architecture lay something more subversive: a master craftsman using the decade's technological tools to expose timeless human frailties. As the lead single from Characters, "Skeletons" would become Wonder's final Top 40 farewell—a quiet but powerful conclusion to his three-decade dominance of the Billboard charts. The song also earned Stevie Wonder two 1988 Grammy Award nominations for Best R&B Song and Best Male R&B Vocal Performance and was featured in the movie Die Hard (1988) and the first season of A Different World. Decades later, 'Skeletons' was featured in Grand Theft Auto V's 2013 soundtrack, reintroducing Wonder to a younger audience and securing the song's place as a late-career gem.
Wonder's 'Too High' opens like a medical examiner's report set to music, an autopsy of drug addiction that strips away every romantic notion of pharmaceutical escape. As the opening track on his iconic Innervisions, the track functions as a warning about the dangers of drug addiction. The song's sonic layout is deliberately unsettling and sees Wonder abandon the familiar embrace of soul and funk for something more psychologically complex. This labyrinthine arrangement mirrors the fractured nature of addiction itself, and the track's foundation shifts and buckles beneath dissonant keyboard clusters, creating an auditory representation of a chemically unmoored mind. This is the type of music that Wonder designed to confront and force listeners into the uncomfortable territory where entertainment becomes intervention. Here was an artist who had spent the 1960s perfecting the art of musical joy, now deploying that same technical mastery to look at one of society's darkest corners. By the time Wonder had released this track, he had gone from being a child star to a prophet, and his congregation would never be quite the same.
Wonder's 'Golden Lady' is a montuno-influenced love song that is Innervisions' necessary counterweight while exploring his romantic feelings for a partner. While "Too High" dissects the pathology of addiction and "He's Misstra Know-It-All" critiques Nixonian duplicity, in this song, Wonder pivots toward intimacy with the precision of a superior artist. The montuno—a repetitive piano pattern from Cuban music—gives the song the rhythmic foundation it needs for Wonder's tender vocals to shine through. The song represents strategic engineering rather than mere sentimentality. It illustrates Wonder's understanding that social commentary needs moments of human connection to anchor its moral authority. When Wonder croons, 'Golden lady, golden lady, I'd like to go there,' the simplicity masks sophisticated emotional depth. 'Golden Lady' demonstrates Wonder's evolution as an artist. He expanded his thematic range while mastering the album as a cohesive statement and recognized that contrast amplifies the message and that love songs can be as politically necessary as protest anthems when deployed with sufficient intelligence. In this context, 'Golden Lady' becomes not just a love song but a demonstration of Wonder's artistic maturity—his recognition that the most effective social commentary emerges from a complete emotional palette.
This song by Wonder misleads listeners with its title. The track is neither boogie nor reggae but emerges as unadulterated funk, anchored by the Detroit native's signature Moog bassline and driven by his calculated shift from chromatic to diatonic A-flat blues harp—a tactical sonic choice that signals artistic restlessness. The track's commercial success matched its critical acclaim, peaking at No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100 and spending two weeks at the top of the soul charts while earning Wonder the Grammy for Best Male R&B Vocal Performance in 1975. His lyrics navigate the liminal space between invitation and provocation. His 'Can I play?' delivery changes the song's energy from flirtation into artistic declaration. At this moment, Wonder asserts his creative authority before yielding to a harmonica solo that becomes the track's true subject. The final 70 seconds abandon conventional resolution for something more compelling—a harmonica-led fadeout that sustains anticipation rather than providing release. This record sees Wonder operating with razor-sharp confidence and the understanding that the most powerful seduction rarely reflects what is expected.
Critics have long dismissed this as Wonder's most saccharine moment, but they fundamentally misunderstood the artistic purpose at work here. This deliberately simple declaration, stripped of Wonder's usual harmonic complexity, represents his most radical experiment: creating pure sentiment without too much ornament. The song's commercial dominance propelled it to reach No. 1 in 28 countries and spend three weeks at the top of the American charts, proving Wonder grasped something his detractors couldn't: sometimes the most sophisticated artistic choice is recognizing when not to be sophisticated. The song was famously used in the film The Woman in Red and earned Wonder both an Academy Award and a Golden Globe for Best Original Song, while garnering three Grammy nominations, including Song of the Year. In an era of production maximalism, Wonder chose emotional clarity over technical virtuosity, and it paid off well. The result dissolves cultural and linguistic barriers through pure sincerity, demonstrating that in a virtuoso's hands, restraint becomes its own form of genius.
Wonder's transformation of the Beatles' 1965 original turns McCartney's optimistic plea into something darker and more urgent. Where the Liverpool quartet bounced with British confidence, Wonder's version carries the weight of American racial tension and personal struggle. Featured on his Signed, Sealed & Delivered album, this cover demonstrates Wonder's genius for cultural translation—taking familiar material and making it entirely his own. The harmonica work here deserves particular attention because it functions less as Wonder's signature instrument and more like an emotional punctuation. Every note is charged with lived experience that the original song couldn't access. Wonder's vocal performance changes the song's theme from naive hope into hard-won wisdom to prove that cover songs can sometimes outperform their source material, especially when filtered through authentic experience. Wonder's version of the song was featured in the movies Kicking & Screaming (2005) and Radio (2003). The song also received a Grammy Award nomination for Best Male R&B Vocal Performance in 1972.
This track from Talking Book shows Wonder at his most vulnerable, and he starts the song off almost whispering, like he's sharing something too personal to say out loud, unsure and hesitant. The verses sound like he's still trying to convince himself, still working it out. Then the chorus hits, and suddenly, he believes it—his voice lifts, full of conviction, even if just for a moment. When his voice cracks or strains, it doesn't feel polished or planned—it feels real. Most radio stations passed over it, but musicians always return to this song when they talk about what Stevie could do with a ballad. It might not be his biggest love song, but it's probably the most honest, and listeners are not just hearing a performance, but what they do hear is someone trying to understand how they really feel. Although the track did not win any awards, its home album, Talking Book, helped Stevie Wonder earn his first Grammy Award at the 16th Annual Grammy Awards.
Wonder's 'Heaven Is 10 Zillion Light Years Away' is a borderline theological deep dive into mortality, life after death and meaning. The song was part of his Fulfillingness' First Finale album and unravels as he philosophizes about humanity's place in an infinite universe. The lyrics wrestle with the gap between our pain on earth and the idea of a higher power watching over us. Wonder is basically asking—if heaven feels so far away, is faith still worth holding onto? The album received mixed reviews and modest commercial success upon its release, but this song is one of his more poignant theological statements. The song's title might sound like science fiction, but Wonder uses it to examine earthbound concerns about faith, loss and the search for meaning. His vocal performance here is incredible—shifting between doubt and acceptance with the skill of someone who understands that questioning faith often strengthens rather than weakens it.
Some songs beg for a second listen, but 'Higher Ground' demands it. This track was included as the lead single from Innervisions, and rightfully so. It's one of those songs that is built on urgency—musically and spiritually. With that instantly recognizable, wah-wah-inflected clavinet loop created using a Mu-Tron III pedal, Wonder wrote and recorded this in a single three-hour session and would later describe that moment as one of divine inspiration. And it sounds like it. The lyrics speak of reincarnation, spiritual evolution and learning from past mistakes—ideas that, for most pop musicians, might scan as pretentious or out of place. But Wonder delivers them with such soul and rhythmic conviction that the message never feels lofty. 'Higher Ground' was released just months before a car crash that left Wonder in a coma. After he woke up, friends played him the track during his recovery, and it took on new weight—not just a metaphorical rebirth, but a literal one. The song became a personal anthem, not just for Wonder but for anyone who's had to fight back to themselves after falling apart. Commercially, the track soared to No. 4 on the Billboard Hot 100 and No. 1 on the U.S. Hot R&B chart and has been covered, sampled and celebrated for decades, notably by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, who turned it into a rock-funk hybrid in their 1989 cover, but never quite captured the spiritual grit of the original. Sonically, the song is a musical tour de force with Wonder playing every instrument including drums, Moog bass and clavinet. There are no flashy flourishes, no unnecessary solos—just locked-in rhythm and focused intensity. In a nutshell, 'Higher Ground' is about getting through tough times and climbing out of the wreckage with more grace than you went in with.
Wonder's foray into Latin-inspired rhythm, from Innervisions, is more evidence that he had an ear for cultural synthesis without appropriation. The song addresses worry and anxiety with a message of reassurance delivered through Afro-Cuban influences that feels organic rather than forced. Wonder's voice slides between English and Spanish with the ease of someone who understands that music is a language on its own that is bigger than linguistic boundaries. Thanks to his blend of traditional Latin percussion, the hybrid sound in this track feels both historically rooted and forward-looking. Commercially, 'Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing' reached No. 16 on the Billboard Hot 100 in June 1974, representing a notable success for such a culturally adventurous piece. The song was part of Wonder's prolific creative period, which spanned multiple landmark albums. Its production began in August 1972, and the track was finalized in 1973 as part of the Innervisions sessions that would help define his artistic peak.
This is one of Wonder's most scathing political songs from Fulfillingness' First Finale and arguably his most politically blunt. In the funk-inspired track, Wonder appears to be exasperated with President Nixon's policies, and his frustration with the political inaction is hard to miss. The song's release coincided with the Watergate scandal and Nixon's resignation shortly after. The Jackson 5's backing vocals add credible weight to Wonder's anger, which creates a call-and-response structure that comes across as communal rather than singular. 'You Haven't Done Nothin'' reached No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, proving that meaningful political music, especially when delivered aptly, could resonate with the right audience. Wonder's decision to feature the Jackson 5 was particularly shrewd, as their youthful voices suggested that political awareness spans generations. The song's funk base, driven by Wonder's clavinet work, is part of what makes this song Wonder's most successful fusion of political content and popular form.
Wonder's celebration of his daughter Aisha Morris' birth was the inspiration for this mega song. The track, a part of his Songs in the Key of Life album, radiates paternal joy that transforms personal experience into universal celebration. The song candidly captures the essence and wonder of every new parent who has just had a newborn. His harmonica work here achieves an almost conversational quality that suggests he's speaking directly to the child, while the extended length allows exploration of every facet of paternal love. Upon its release, Motown refused to release it as a single, which limited its commercial impact (the song exceeded radio's length preferences); however, it has since become one of Wonder's most beloved tracks and is considered a classic. The inclusion of actual recordings of Aisha's cries and sounds creates documentary intimacy that makes listeners feel present at this private moment. This was particularly a big deal at the time because the song was released in an era where celebrities were notorious for keeping their personal lives private.
Wonder's tribute to Bob Marley, from Hotter Than July, creates its own hybrid form by filtering reggae rhythm through Wonder's political consciousness. The song celebrates music as a universal language while addressing themes of unity and social justice that connect Wonder's American experience with Marley's Jamaican perspective. The track's programmed beats and synthesized textures create a futuristic reggae that honors tradition while pointing toward new possibilities for music and collaboration. Upon its release, it reached No. 5 on the Billboard Hot 100 and spent seven weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard R&B charts, proving Wonder's ability to adapt international influences for mainstream audiences without losing their essential character. His lyrics reference Marley while extending the reggae icon's message of musical healing to broader themes of global connection, and this was especially notable because it was released during a period of renewed interest in reggae music. The song's reception proved once again that much of Wonder's global appeal has been his role as a cultural translator that could bridge musical traditions while maintaining respect for their origins.
Wonder's 'I Wish' captures childhood with the specificity that takes a personal experience and makes it feel communal. From Songs in the Key of Life, the song works because Wonder doesn't only talk about being young and reckless. Instead, he gives listeners the details that matter, from childish shenanigans to family discipline and neighborhood mischief, all the particular rhythms of growing up that anyone can recognize, even if their childhood looked nothing like his. That opening bassline is so addictive that it hooks you in immediately, and Wonder's impressive clavinet work gives the song a percussive bounce that is impossible to resist. But it's his vocal performance that really sells it—he sounds genuinely fond of those memories while acknowledging that you can't go back, and beneath that joy is something bittersweet. The song hit No. 1 on both the Billboard Hot 100 and soul charts in 1977, earning Wonder a Grammy for Best R&B Vocal Performance, Male. It was also featured in the soundtrack of the animated comedy film Happy Feet and in the family comedy Cheaper by the Dozen 2 (2005). Nearly five decades later, the groove of this track remains infectious, the storytelling organic, and somehow it all works together without feeling calculated, which is classic Wonder at his most relatable.
Of all the declarations of love Stevie Wonder has ever made, 'As' is the most far-reaching, because it is less a love song than a cosmology. In this romantic ballad, the impossible is not merely imagined but promised, and Wonder sings of a love that will outlast rainbows, mountains, and time itself—a love so absolute that it becomes elemental. Wonder, the mastermind behind all of this, knows that his arrangements always beam with forward motion while suspending us in timeless devotion. This song was never released as a single in the U.S., but it has become part of the canon, one that is covered endlessly, quoted often and featured in countless film and television moments. The song is an undeniable classic partly because it dares to say something most love songs won't: that true love is not just an emotion but also an infinite condition. Under Wonder's creative direction, even the stars feel like small things when set against the weight of a promise. 'As' was nominated for a Grammy Award in 1978 for Best R&B Vocal Performance, Male and an acoustic version of the song was featured in the 2021 Academy Awards In Memoriam video.
Few songs celebrate music itself with as much joy and clarity of purpose as 'Sir Duke.' Wonder's ode to Duke Ellington is a nod to the past as much as it is a jubilant fanfare. With its radiant horn lines and uptempo beat, this is the type of song you put on when you need to feel the body remember what happiness sounds like. Every note here honors the genius of Black American music while reminding listeners that jazz was never meant to be locked in museums. The horn players' call-and-response patterns that reflect the very improvisational spirit of the legends they salute. Even more impressive is that the arrangement here is deceptively intricate, with syncopation and harmonic shifts that pay homage to jazz complexity while remaining relatable to contemporary music lovers. His synthesizer doesn't overshadow the brass but instead expands the canvas, connecting Ellington's big band elegance with the future-forward possibilities of funk and soul. When "Sir Duke" topped the Billboard Hot 100 and earned Grammy recognition, it became both a commercial success and a path towards continuity, with Wonder pulling the roots of Black musical genius into the mainstream without watering them down. The piece earned Wonder several nominations, including Best Male Pop Vocal Performance, Record of the Year and Song of the Year. 'Sir Duke' remains one of his most generous moments: a master tipping his hat to his heroes, even as he ascends to join them.
Wonder's seven-minute urban epic, from Innervisions, traces the journey from rural poverty to urban despair with the narrative arc of a best-selling novelist and the emotional impact of lived experience. The song is about a young African American man's migration from Mississippi to New York and his dreams of a better life destroyed by systemic racism and economic inequality. His spoken-word interlude—depicting the protagonist's arrest and imprisonment—provides context that takes personal struggle and uses it to offer systemic critique. The track reached No. 8 on the Billboard Hot 100 and earned Wonder a Grammy Award for Best Rhythm & Blues Song at the 1974 Grammy Awards, a recognition that confirmed yet again that he was one of the few artists who could tackle social issues and be marketable while doing it. Wonder builds a sonic world that looks to the future but remains grounded in the traditions and experiences of Black American music. His voice moves between quiet hope and raw despair, capturing a full emotional arc with haunting accuracy. 'Living for the City' proved that listeners were ready—and eager—for music that told hard truths. Decades later, it is still one of the most powerful social commentaries on urban poverty and racial injustice in popular music.
If 'Superstition' was the sound of Stevie Wonder reinventing funk, 'You Are the Sunshine of My Life' was the sound of him remembering love. Gentle, uncluttered and disarmingly sincere, this ballad glows not with grandeur but with intimacy. From its unusual opening—where Wonder lets two other vocalists introduce the melody before stepping in himself—the song signals that love, like music, is a shared language. It doesn't need to shout. It just needs to feel true. The track's simplicity is what makes it alluring. There's no oversinging, no orchestral swelling, no need to prove anything. Just Wonder's voice, graceful and sure, floating in sync with electric piano, understated horns and Latin-tinged percussion. The smash hit was released as a single from Talking Book and became his third No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, earning him the Grammy for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance. The searing ballad also dominated global and Cash Box charts, reaching top 10 positions in multiple countries, including Canada (No. 5), Australia (No. 10), New Zealand (No. 8) and the UK (No. 7). But its legacy isn't only in how many awards it won, but how much it has entered the cultural bloodstream and become a staple for wedding vows, first dances and slow Sunday mornings. Of course, there are flashier Wonder songs that are louder, funkier and more politically urgent, but not many match this one's quiet confidence, and that's perhaps what makes it so special.
'Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours)' can only accurately be described as a musical contract written in soul, sealed in funk and delivered with everything Stevie Wonder had become by 1970: a grown artist in full control of his voice, artistic vision and purpose. Co-written with Syreeta Wright, Lee Garrett and Wonder's mother, Lula Mae Hardaway, the song doubles as both romantic confession and artistic manifesto. When Wonder sings 'Here I am, baby,' he's not just returning to a lover—he's announcing himself to the world. After years as Motown's boy wonder, this was his emancipation notice. No longer just "Little Stevie," he emerges here as a powerhouse who is not afraid to lean into the stage presence and kinetic joy that made him a star in the first place. Musically, the song's likability is immediate, but underneath lies complex harmonic motion and razor-sharp horn arrangements courtesy of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. Wonder's harmonica—playful, textured, unmistakably his—adds another layer of personality, making sure every corner of the mix bears his fingerprint. The song climbed to No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100, but more importantly, it announced a shift: Stevie Wonder was no longer just interpreting other people's material; he was becoming his own artist, creating his own sound, one that was funkier, more established and entirely his. 'Signed, Sealed, Delivered' remains one of the singer's most covered songs, not necessarily because it's easy to sing, but because it's built so well. It sticks the way good wedding vows do: boldly, clearly and straight from the heart.
Wonder's 'Superstition' doesn't begin so much as it detonates. That clavinet riff kicks in like a warning siren, and there's no turning back from that moment on. Clocking in at just over three minutes, it distills his artistic ethos into a tightly wound trifecta of sound, innovation and meaning. Built around that instantly recognizable clavinet riff—angular, percussive, unforgettable—Superstition explores the uneasy dance between guts and fear, between what we believe and want to believe. Its lyrics wrestle with irrationality in an inherently irrational world; its drumline is rich, steady and grounded, which complements the song's storytelling. Wonder's vocals, as usual, are a study in balance: part homily, part swagger. Wonder initially wrote the song for guitarist Jeff Beck. Wonder had made a deal with Beck where Beck would lend his playing to Talking Book, and in return, Wonder would write him a song. During a studio session, it was actually Beck who started messing around on the drums, laying down the beat that would eventually anchor one of his most iconic tracks. The plan was for Beck's band, Beck, Bogert & Appice, to record the song first. But delays on their end gave Motown time to move—and they released this version before anyone else could. His decision to keep it was a turning point for his career and the future of funk. When it hit No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and and Hot Soul Singles charts. When the single also earned him a Grammy for Best Male R&B Vocal Performance and Best R&B Song at the 1973 Grammy Awards, it became a cultural moment that marked him as popular music's leading innovator. 'Superstition' works everywhere: on the dance floor, on the radio, in the concert hall or in the break room. It is uncompromising in its artistry but magnetic in its appeal. That's the real magic—not the superstition itself, but the clarity with which Wonder transforms confusion into tempo, doubt into movement and complexity into joy. This is, subjectively, Wonder's magnum opus and arguably one of the most electrifying pieces of American music ever recorded.
Bottom Line
When Stevie Wonder stepped into that Chicago recording studio as a 12-year-old with a harmonica, he announced the arrival of a force that would reshape the very DNA of American music. Over six decades later, that same restless genius who gave us "Superstition" and 'Living for the City' stands as something more than an entertainer: he's the architect of modern soul and a prophet who proved that artistic brilliance and commercial success can live in the same song.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)
How Many Albums Has Stevie Wonder Released?
Stevie Wonder has released 30 albums in total which include 23 studio albums, three soundtrack albums, four live albums, 92 singles, 11 compilations and one box set. Below are all 30 albums in order of their release:
1. The Jazz Soul of Little Stevie (1962)
2. Tribute to Uncle Ray (1962)
3. With a Song in My Heart (1963)
4. Stevie at the Beach (1964)
5. Signed, Sealed and Delivered (1970)
6. For Once in My Life (1968)
7. My Cherie Amour (1969)
8. Talking Book (1972)
9. Music of My Mind (1972)
10. Innervisions (1973)
11. Fulfillingness' First Finale (1974)
12. Songs in the Key of Life (1976)
13. Hotter Than July (1980)
14. Original Musiquarium (1982)
15. The Woman in Red (1984)
16. In Square Circle (1985)
17. Characters (1987)
18. Jungle Fever (1991)
19. Conversation Peace (1995)
20. A Time 2 Love (2005)
21. At The Close of a Century (1999)
22. Someday at Christmas (Expanded Edition) (2013)
23. The Definitive Collection (2002)
24. Number 1's (2018)
25. Number Ones (2007)
26. Best Of/20th Century - Christmas (2004)
27. Someday At Christmas (1967)
28. Eivets Rednow (1968)
29. Signed, Sealed And Delivered (1970)
30. Mono Singles (2019)
Is Stevie Wonder Legally Blind?
Yes, Stevie Wonder is legally blind. He was born six weeks premature, and the high-oxygen incubator that kept him alive also took his sight. The diagnosis was retinopathy of prematurity—a condition that stops the eyes from developing and often detaches the retinas. He's been blind ever since.
Is Stevie Wonder Still Making Music Today?
Yes, Stevie Wonder is still making music. He recently released a single called "Can We Fix Our Nation's Broken Heart" in 2024 and recently launched his Love, Light & Song UK Tour. He's also working on new projects, including a gospel album and a collaboration with David Foster.