Smokey Robinson performing in Santa Rosa

‘‘I never ever do a concert for people,” says Motown legend Smokey Robinson. “I do a concert with people. They're singing the songs and having a great time, too.”

That communal spirit was fully evident at Robinson's concert last year at Oakland's Paramount Theatre.

Exhorting his flock like a preacher, Robinson invited the near-sold-out crowd to sing along with him on some of his best-loved songs, including “Tears of a Clown,” “Ooh, Baby, Baby” and “Cruisin'.”

The King of Motown twice asked swooning women in the audience to join him for a dance up on stage and appeared to be having just as much fun as his star-struck partners.

“I'm having a ball,” Robinson said in a phone interview last week. “My favorite part is doing the concerts because I get to see the fans.”

Robinson and his band play Friday May 28 at Wells Fargo Center for the Arts. Expect to hear some jazzy recent material as well as chestnuts such as “I Second That Emotion” and “Going to a Go-Go.”

Now 70, Robinson seems as joyful and exuberant as he was 50 years ago when his band, The Miracles, scored their first R&B number-one hit, “Shop Around.”

Born William Robinson Jr. in Detroit, Smokey wrote his first song for a school play when he was 6. Around that time, an uncle gave him the nickname “Smokey Joe.”

“I loved cowboys who sang, Gene Autry and Roy Rogers,” Robinson said.

When Robinson was 18 and about to head off to college, he met Berry Gordy, who founded Motown in 1959. The following year, Robinson married Miracles singer Claudette Rogers.

Through the '60s, as a singer, songwriter, talent scout and Motown's vice president (he took the post at age 21), Robinson worked with Gordy to help propel the company to global prominence.

A gifted hitmaker with a knack for crafting brilliant three-minute compositions, Robinson wrote songs that topped the charts for other Motown singers as well. (See box.)

“I've never been a writer who wanted to write a record,” Robinson said. “I've always tried to write a song, because I want my songs to live on and on forever.”

During the 1960s, when many artists were writing protest songs, Robinson stuck with love.

“If you write about protest, or if you write about a car or a dance, those things come and go; the next year they're passé, but love is everlasting. I want to write everlasting songs,” he said.

“I want to write songs that if I'd written them 50 years before they would have meant something, or right now they're gonna mean something, or 50 years from now, they're gonna mean something.”

Robinson has been called “America's greatest living poet,” by a man who could hold that title himself — Bob Dylan.

In 1972, Robinson left the Miracles, introducing his replacement, Billy Griffin, at his farewell concert. After being one of the founding fathers of Motown, Robinson's 1976 song, “Quiet Storm,” defined the smooth-jazz sound of the '70s and beyond.

As storybook as his life appeared, Robinson faltered in the mid-'80s when he got hooked on cocaine and his marriage ended. He embraced Jesus and hasn't used drugs since May 1986, he said.

“I gave it to God,” he said. “And He don't give it back unless you go back to get it.” Robinson now speaks at drug-rehab graduations.

Robinson and Claudette divorced in 1986. He lives in Los Angeles and Las Vegas with his second wife, Frances, whom he married eight years ago.

Eager to give back to his community, he appears at seminars for young people to teach them the art of business.

“Most kids in the inner cities think they have to be an entertainer or a sports figure to make it, but we stress that there are all sorts of avenues open to them,” he said. “They can be doctors or attorneys or senators or president.”

What does the man who's done almost everything still want to do?

“I'd like to have a great part in a great movie,” he said. “That's my aspiration.”

Robinson's latest album, last year's “Time Flies When You're Having Fun,” includes guest appearances by Carlos Santana and Joss Stone.

Its subdued, jazzy sound is a far cry from Smokey's '60s pop, but his falsetto is as sweet as ever. And like all his music, it's the ideal soundtrack for romance.

Asked if he ever thinks about how many children have been conceived to his songs, he laughs.

“People tell me all the time either that they had some kids to my music, or someone comes up to me and says, ‘Hey man, I was born because of your music.' I love that.”

Michael Shapiro writes about entertainment for The Press Democrat. Contact him at michaelshapiro@yahoo.com.