Monday, November 28, 2011

Tony Orlando

One of those guys you love to hate. Seriously. How many people had murderous thoughts every time they heard Tie A Yellow Ribbon Around The Old Oak Tree, (for me it was Knock Three Times).

But Tony Orlando had a life before Dawn. In ’69 he was the lead vocalist of a one-shot studio-only group called Wind (Make Believe). And almost a decade before that, when he was still a teenager, he had a couple of more-than-respectable teen idol hits, which may have been, in their own way, better than anything he did in his more famous years.




Tony Orlando:

Bless You - The lyrics veer between sweet and over-the-top, but the tune (the song is by Barry Mann and Cynthia Weill) never moves from glorious, the arrangement - female chipmunk chorus, matinee strings, Mahlerian tympani - is perfect teenage drama, and you can hear exactly where Phil Spector got so many of his ideas. Wonderful bobby sox artistry. From the fall of 1961.
Halfway To Paradise – When I was in school, we had a word (well, two words) for the type of girl he is singing about. But adolescence is such a confusing time. It gets so much easier in middle age. Oh wait, it doesn’t? From the summer of 1961. A hit in England for Billy Fury.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

The Regents

Another doo-wop group, late-blooming, after-the-fact, and short-lived, a group whose biggest hit is better known by someone else. What a fate.




The Regents:

Barbara Ann – I have it on good authority that women named “Barbara” are not the most reliable in the world. The good authority of which I speak is only that which is relevant at 9:50 on this Sunday morning. Be that as it may, the song here, which is the real point, is naught but a great excuse for singing along and dancing. The “ba ba ba” refrain is, of course, legendary. A hit in the summer of 1961 and much better known by The Beach Boys, who propelled the song almost to number 1 in the fall of 1965. It was also covered by Jan & Dean and The Who.
Runaround – As indignant as doo-wop gets. For my money this is as good as, maybe better than, their bigger song, to which this was the follow-up, less successful hit. Also from the summer of 1961, but later.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Eddie Harris

Eddie Harris was one of those jazz dudes who pop up with such regularity in my collection, who do one song then split – except that in the case of Harris, the song was a hit. Harris’ career really took after after the one hit, as a jazz artist, not a top 100 guy, though he did have three more songs on the charts; that was later, 1968 – 1970.



Eddie Harris:

Exodus – Written by Ernest Gold, from the movie directed by Otto Preminger, based on the book by Leon Uris. The book may have been the most popular piece of propaganda claptrap of the 20th century. I never saw the movie. But the theme song had a life of its own. It won the Oscar, and it won a Grammy. It was the ultimate musical melodrama, what Gustav Mahler would have sounded like had he written TV commercials. Three competing hit version were on the charts at the same time: the string laden afternoon matinee version by Mantovani, the piano drama version by Ferrante & Teicher, and this one, which omits the drama altogether, and replaces it with some super-cool swing. If you really want to know what the theme from Exodus sounds like, listen to one of the others; but when you want to hear what good music it really is, this is the place to start. From the summer of 1961.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Billy Fury

Billy Fury It’s taken me a long time to write this post, longer than any post so far. That’s because when I started it I only had one track: Halfway To Paradise. But for some reason I got ambitious and I downloaded every song the Billy Fury had on the UK top 100. So that’s what took so long, finding, downloading, and listening to, each one of these songs. Now I have this entire collection.

Not bad, eh?




Billy Fury:



Maybe Tomorrow – He sets the style here: loon-call sax, angelic female chorus, barely discernable lyrics, wistful to the point of non-existence. Makes Frankie Avalon sound like heavy metal. Not the Jim Croce song, not the Jackson Five song. From the spring of 1959.
Margo – A slight (very slight) country feel on this not quite top 20 hit from 1959.
Colette – Slightly reminiscent of Claudette by Roy Orbison / The Everly Brothers, but the resemblance is not to be taken as qualitative. From The winter of 1960.
That’s Love – Near-genuine rockabilly, Eddie Cochran style. From the summer of 1960.
Wonderous Place – Here’s where he could have been a contender. The producers put so much echo on his voice that he actually sounds tough enough to live up to his name, and the arrangement is understated and effective. Figures that this song didn’t quite reach the top 20. Who knows what it’s about. From 1960.
A Thousand Stars – A cover of the Kathy Young & The Innocents hit and perfectly suitable. From 1960.
Halfway To Paradise – Maybe his best remembered record and the only track that’s been in my collection forever. A familiar tale of being stuck in “friend-zone.” A hit in the US for Tony Orlando. From the spring of 1961.
Jealousy – Billy takes on Frankie Laine and loses. From the fall of 1961.
I’d Never Find Another You – Not to be confused with I’ll Never Find Another You (though every single YouTube entry gets the title wrong), which is a much better song than this. From the winter of 61 / 62.
Letter Full Of Tears – The Marvelettes had this theme wrapped up with Please Mr. Postman, but this song was a strong contender in the original version by Gladys Knight & The Pips. Billy makes a noble effort. From the winter of 1962.
Last Night Was Made For Love – A once in a lifetime opportunity, down the tubes. Ah well, perhaps tonight will be made for beer. From the spring of 1962.
Once Upon A Dream – It’s always better in one’s head than in real life, not so? From the summer of 1962.
Because Of Love – As Elvis-like as he got. From the fall of 1962.
Like I’ve Never Been Gone – The Beatles swept the floor with all this competition when they All My Lovin’. From the winter of 1963.
When Will You Say I Love You – Romantic whining. From the spring of 1962.
In Summer – All the summer clichés except the music. From the summer of 1963.
Somebody Else’s Girl – Finding out that things aren’t what you think they are, when you thought they were good, is never good. From the autumn of 1963.
Do You Really Love Me Too (Fool’s Errand) – The Beatle influence is starting to show here (well ok, but compared to his stuff up to now…) From winter, 1964.
I Will – From the spring of 1964. Dean Martin covered it a year later.
It’s Only Make Believe – Billy takes on Conway Twitty. From the summer of 1964. I think The Hollies did a cover of this as well, and Glen Campbell put it back on the chart in 1970.
I’m Lost Without You – A profound air of tragedy hangs over this one, slightly reminiscent of I (Who Have Nothing). From the winter of 1965.
In Thoughts Of You – While his music wasn’t exactly hip, and didn’t give the great British Invasion bands anything to worry about, you can hear the progression here, and how his producers were doing their darndest to keep him up-to-date. A decent mid ’65 time capsule, from the summer of that great year.
Run To My Lovin’ Arms – Wasn’t there another song with this title? Maybe, but this isn’t it. Oh no, wait, it is! The Walker Brothers, I believe. From 1965.
I’ll Never Quite Get Over You – Billy was definitely coming of age here. From 1966.
Give Me Your Word – Another one from 1966, and he was sounding more like The Walker Brothers with each release.
Love Or Money – Fast forward to 1982, Fury finds himself back on the chart after a 17 year absence. He’s a bit louder, but otherwise pretty much the same as before.
Devil Or Angel – A slightly updated remake of the Bobby Vee remake of The Clovers hit. From 1982.
Forget Him – The orchestral arrangement works surprisingly well, and the electric piano isn’t as cloying as one would expect, and when the drums show up it’s a good reminder that this was, after all, the 80s, so it’s not a bad effort, just that Billy oversings it, just slightly, and the original Bobby Rydell recording was such a masterpiece that there’s no way anyway that this could be anything more than a distant second at best. Released posthumously in 1983, at 59 it was Billy’s lowest placing chart single.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

May, 1961


Sunday, October 16, 2011

B. Bumble & The Stingers

I had a friend and we were about 20. Said friend had a father who tried to impress us with his knowledge of classical music. “The music you guys listen to is crap,” he told us, and he’d put on Smetana, and explain the musical poetry to us.

It wasn’t long after that I started listening to the classics myself, learning about the development from Bach to Haydn and Mozart to Beethoven and on to the romantics. And so I came back to father-guy, now armed with knowledge, appreciation, and understanding. “I’ve been listening,” I told him. “to Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto,” I said, “it amazes me.”

“I don’t like Beethoven so much,” was his answer. “I prefer Tchaikovsky.”

“Sure,” I thought, and I’m an outdoors enthusiast, but I don’t like fresh air so much…




B. Bumble & The Stingers weren’t so much a group as an idea. Various musicians played on the various recordings they made, most of whom were not(or none of whom were, I can’t figure it out) part of the touring band. The group didn’t last but the idea did, morphing into ELO incorporating Beethoven’s 5th into Roll Over Beethoven, Walter Murphy’s Big Apple Band rendering the same symphony as disco, and ELP energizing Mussorgsky into major label art rock. Go team…




B. Bumble & The Stingers:

Bumble Boogie – Rimsky-Korsakov’s The Flight Of The Bumble Bee. Sort of. The truth is that this appears in versions a lot more jazzed up than this. The oddest version, though, is probably the harmonica-only one by The Adler Trio. From the spring of 1961.
Nut Rocker – March from Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker. ELO covered this as an encore to Pictures At An Exhibition. From the spring of 1962.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Gene McDaniels

Gene McDanielsTeen idols get a bad rap. Ok, I don’t know about Justin Beiber. I wouldn’t know him if he found his way into my living room and accompanied my dinner with strains of his latest musical offerings. He probably deserves his rap anyway.

Let’s think about the first crop. It is said to have been an attempt by record company moguls to tame the beast that was rock and roll, the beast that was a product of independent record companies (notwithstanding Elvis’ contract with RCA; he started at Sun, remember), and to fill the hole left by Elvis’ induction, Jerry Lee Lewis’ disgrace, Little Richard’s conversion, Buddy Holly’s demise, Chuck Berry’s incarceration. (Fats Domino was doing fine thank you, but it was a bit much for him to carry on on his own).

Some of the guys could sing (Frankie Avalon), some couldn’t (Fabian), few had musical talent. And I wouldn’t argue that every track on every Bobby Vee LP is a masterpiece. But when the voice and the song and the arrangement and the production came together, the results could be magnificent. And so we had Forget Him by Bobby Rydell, The Night Has A Thousand Eyes by Bobby Vee, Little Woman by Bobby Sherman, Togetherness by Frankie Avalon.

Notice – they were all white. All the teen idols, they were all white. One doesn’t have to be an expert in American sociology to understand that there were many reasons for that, and to imagine what they were. But it does raise the question of whether an African American singer could have been a teen idol, in the Bobby-Vee sense of the term. Kind of like asking whether white men can sing the blues, turned around (no not can blue men sing the whites, apologies to The Bonzo Dog Band).

Gene McDaniel may have been a contender. He worked in the context. He recorded for Liberty and his records were produced by Snuff Garrett, who worked wonders for Johnny Burnette and Bobby Vee, and later Gary Lewis. The songs would easily have fit the style of a lesser vocalist.

But Gene McDaniel was not a lesser vocalist. He was talented. He was a multi-instrumentalist and a songwriter (he wrote Feel Like Makin’ Love by Roberta Flack). So we leave the question open.

My collection comes mostly from Hit After Hit, and album released by Liberty records in the early 60s. Had they titled it accurately, it would have been Hit After Hit after Non-hit After Hit after Non-hit…

Gene McDaniels passed away just over 2 months ago – July 29, 2011.




Gene McDaniels:

A Hundred Pounds Of Clay – The conceptualization of woman as Woman, the idealization of woman as Woman. Woman as plaything (“lots of lovin’ for a man.”) And let’s be honest, how many women weigh 100 lbs? This is dumb as dumb gets, but it works in the end because Snuff Garrett wins the day with the swooping strings and female chorus, and the fact that the tune gives the singer’s vocal range a workout doesn’t hurt either. From the spring of 1961.
Point Of No Return – The libidinous subtext is too obvious. Gene often sounded frantic and here is a good example. From the fall of 1962.
A Tear – Yet another song about crying, this one distills the process to its very essence. From the summer of 1961.
Tower Of Strength – The love song of a circus clown. This one maximized the caricature that McDaniel often portrayed, and turned A Hundred Pounds Of Clay on its head. From the fall of 1961. Coda: This was the first song I ever caught on cassette, as I was trying out my new wonder back when I was 12 years old. It was an oldie then, and it was the first time I’d heard it.
Send For Me – A hit for Nat King Cole, and this is what it sounds like with a bit of soul added.
It’s A Lonely Town – Sure it is, Heartbreak Hotel is around the corner. From the fall of 1963, his last appearance on the top 100.
Spanish Lace – It was a bit daring back then, I’d say, to mix up the minority groups like this. I’m sure there were people who were not happy. From the winter of 62/63.
It’s All In The Game – Honestly I have to admit that this isn’t my favourite song. It was a hit for Tommy Edwards and Cliff Richard and The Four Tops, and Van Morrison had a decent crack at it on Into The Music, though his version, single though it was, didn’t crack the charts. Neither did this one, though it probably wasn’t a single, but after all it may be the best of the bunch. Sorry Van.
Are You Sincere – Too many people playing too many games, you end up questioning everyone’s sincerity. A hit for Andy Williams and later for Trini Lopez.
Take Good Care Of Her – It was Adam Wade who did the hit version of this and did it well, taking the Bobby Vee idea and rendering it as a grownup would. Nothing wrong with McDaniels’ version either.
I Don’t Want To Cry – And for this he does Chuck Jackson. Chuck was great, but Gene was ok too.
Chip Chip – A lightweight pop song about infidelity and the how it ravages your life. That’s not to say it isn’t good. Only Garrett could pull this off. But seriously, can you “cheat a little bit?” From the winter of 1962.
Love Me Tender – I’ve always felt that Elvis’s version of this was underproduced; it sounds like a home demo, needs some meat. Percy Sledge put it back on the charts in 1967 and his was more on the money. But I prefer McDaniel’s vocals. A good one.
(There Was) A Tall Oak Tree – Theology mixed with ecology mixed with who knows what. The original was by Dorsey Burnette and this version isn’t any less dumb.
A Portrait Of My Love – And to close off, Gene does this mushy romantic love song, originally a hit for Steve Lawrence, and does it well. No surprise.
 
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