The Story Behind 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough'

Valerie Simpson: I first met

Nick Ashford

in church in 1962. He had just graduated from high school in Michigan and came to New York to be a dancer. But his auditions didn’t work out, and he wound up homeless. He was staying at a friend’s apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.

I was still a senior in high school then and sang in the choir at the White Rock Baptist Church in Harlem. I also sang in the Followers, a gospel vocal group. One day, I saw Nick standing in the back of our church as we sang. He was there looking for a hot meal.

By then, Nick was singing with a New York gospel group called the Monarchs. After we were introduced by his friend, I talked him into joining the Followers.

In early ’63, the Followers performed at Sweet Chariot on West 46th Street. We had a nice run there until May, when the gospel club was picketed by a Harlem church. The minister felt gospel had no place in a club.

The experience informed Nick and me to stick together as songwriters. Nick was the perfect mouthpiece for my melodies, and my piano inspired his lyrics. It was an easy relationship.

Our first hit, “Let’s Go Get Stoned,” was written with

Joshie Armstead

for the Coasters in 1965.

Ray Charles

recorded the song a year later and had a No. 1 R&B hit. The song’s success brought us to the attention of songwriter

Eddie Holland

at Motown.

To do well there, Nick and I knew we needed a great song. Nick told me about lyrics he had written while walking down Central Park West. During his walk, he worried about whether he’d be able to remain in the city. That’s when he noticed that the buildings along the park looked like mountains.

Words came to him: “Ain’t no mountain high enough / Ain’t no valley low enough / Ain’t no river wide enough / to keep me from getting to you.” The “you” here meant success.

I loved the lines, and we used them to write a love song. When we were done, we recorded a demo with me on piano and Nick singing. Motown loved it and wanted the song for singer Tammi Terrell. She hadn’t had a big hit yet.

Paul Riser: I first heard the demo in my Motown office in late ‘66. I liked it. The song had sensitivity and strength.

The first thing I did was record the rhythm track with the Funk Brothers, the label’s house band.

That famous rattlesnake sound in the introduction—tick-a-tick-a-tick—was

Uriel Jones

hitting the metal rim of his snare drum with his sticks. I wanted those there to build suspense before Tammi’s lead vocal came in.

After Tammi recorded her vocal, the producers decided the single would be stronger as a duet. Months earlier, Marvin had a hit with

Kim Weston

on “It Takes Two.” So Marvin was added to Tammi’s record to help its odds on the charts.

Marvin was amazing. He overdubbed his vocal so it wrapped around hers, as if the two of them were in love, singing to each other in the studio.

Mary Wilson: Tammi had a great record with “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.” But in October ‘67, she collapsed on stage while performing with Marvin. Doctors later diagnosed she had a brain tumor, which kept her from touring.

The following spring, the Supremes—Diana Ross, me and

Cindy Birdsong,

who had replaced

Florence Ballard

months earlier—recorded “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” for a duet album with the Temptations.

On the song, Diana sang the vocal with

Dennis Edwards,

who had just joined the Temps.

I don’t recall us performing the duet on the road. It was too intricate for the Supremes and Temps to sing together on stage. Besides, there wasn’t much point rehearsing it. There were rumors that Diana was about to leave the Supremes to become a solo artist.

Ms. Simpson: When Diana left the Supremes in the fall of ’69, (Motown founder)

Berry Gordy

asked Nick and me to produce her first album.

Nick and I wanted one of our songs to run longer than the usual three minutes. At the time, artists such as

Isaac Hayes

were doing this. We decided to try it with “Mountain.” But we needed a different approach so it sounded new.

Nick suggested we have Diana narrate an extended verse. He thought she had a great speaking voice, so he wrote new lyrics.

Once his monologue for Diana was completed, I worked on a new structure for the song. I created an introduction that began as an instrumental and led into a choir that set up Diana’s spoken voice.

We delayed the song’s familiar chorus—“Ain’t no mountain high enough / ain’t no valley low enough”—until about 4 minutes into the song and treated it as the climax. We held the chorus back because listeners already knew it and expected it would come eventually.

Mr. Riser: When Valerie and Nick gave me their new piano-vocal demo, it was precisely structured.

Listening to Valerie’s piano, I felt the song called for a majestic, symphonic approach.

Since the chorus didn’t come until late, I wanted the choir in the introduction to sing the chorus as “Ahhhs.” This worked like a Broadway musical overture, teasing what was coming later in the song.

Ms. Simpson: When we began to record, we did the rhythm track first at Motown. I played piano with the Funk Brothers. That’s me on the record throughout.

Eddie Willis: Valerie’s piano was coldblooded. Man, she could really play. She told each of us what to do, and we stayed close to what she wanted.

Even though there were three of us on guitar, we never got in each other’s way.

Mr. Riser: After the rhythm track was done, we flew to New York to record the strings and brass.

Ms. Simpson: After New York, we overdubbed the choir parts and background vocals at Motown. For the choir, Joshie Armstead sang the top notes, I sang in the middle and Nick was on the bottom. On the record, you can hear Joshie singing like her life depended on it. Then I overdubbed the Andantes vocal group filling in around us.

When all of the music and background vocals were on tape, we had Diana come in to record her vocal. I wanted everything done so she’d hear all of it in her headset. We really got the best out of her. Producing is about getting something special out of an artist. We stretched Diana. She could do it, and she didn’t mind going for it.

But when we gave the song’s final 6:18 mix to Berry, he felt it took too long to get to the chorus. Nick and I thought about it and listened to it several times. We agreed we didn’t want to move things around. Nick said to Berry, “It’s like an orgasm. You don’t have it immediately. It builds.”

That was fine for the album, but Berry insisted we at least cut it down for the single. Nick and I resisted at first, so Berry held off releasing it as the album’s first single. Instead, he released Diana’s “Reach Out and Touch (Somebody’s Hand).”

Eventually I edited the song down to 3:32 so we could get it out. But many radio DJs played the album version instead. Nick and I felt vindicated.

When I hear Diana’s version today, I’m proud of how it came out. I’m also amused by how many people think the original and Diana’s solo version are two different songs with the same title. Proof that Nick and I accomplished our goal—creating a completely new version for Diana’s solo debut.

In the years that followed, something happened between Nick and myself. I’ll just say that when you’re writing love songs all day long with someone, you can wind up falling in love. We did. Nick and I married in 1974.