Saturday, June 10, 2006

RATE A RECORD!!!!

Today I'm sharing three of my newest 45 rpm acquisitions. All three come from labels associated with the song-poem field, but I suspect that only one, and perhaps two, of the three. are technically song-poem records. 

That one I'm sure is a song-poem, is "Atom Dynomic Dance" by that man about town, Phil Celia. One doesn't come across a twist styled record suggesting a dance based on an atom bomb explosion every day. Not only the words strike me as some amateur's attempt to clever, but the fact that the melody (at least as sung by Mr. Celia) doesn't quite fit the chord changes, tells me that this wasn't designed to be promoted as an actual hit. The Tin Pan Alley label on the record helps, too. And is "Dynomic" even a word? Okay, everybody! "Let's Go Boom and Mushroom, Let's Be an Atom Blast...!" 

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Next up is Barney Spencer and the Vellaires, on the Vellez label. I have only a few records on this label, and each of them is odd in its own unique way. This is just a cute little song, pushed over that line between fun and really fun by the singer's Scandinavian accent. I have a suspicion that this one - "Beginner's Luck" - was a vanity release, but I could be wrong.

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And then there is "Shakespeare Rock", by the Eligibles. Records on the sometimes song-poem related label Fable never cease to amaze me, whether they are song-poems or not. The lyrics of this one strike me as far too knowingly ironic, and it also seems too well arranged, musically, to be a throwaway song-poem. Plus, the flip side was a cover of a minor hit song. I suspect this record was meant as a deliberate joke, and whether I'm right or not, it sure as hell makes me laugh. It's well done, all the way around. I'll let you discover its charms yourselves.

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Comments welcomed and greatly appreiciated!

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Cool Yourself Off!

Just in time for summer, I'm sharing a little known, ridiculous novelty song from the early 1960's (one which came out on a major label, no less - Warner Brothers!), called "Beer Beer Bottla Beer" by A.C. Ducey. 

I first heard this song on the Dr. Demento show around 1980, it immediately went into heavy rotation on my home playlist; I spent the next 20 years looking for a copy, finally securing one on eBay a few years ago. 

I don't actually drink beer, finding it quite vile, thank you, but that doesn't stop this record from being one of my all time favorite records. That's not Thurl Ravenscroft singing, but for more than a moment one might think it is, even though I now suspect that the vocal has been slowed down for effect. And as one might have gathered, I'm a sucker for an eccentric bass vocal performance. 

There is so much to love here, from the double tracked vocals, which start and stop more or less at random, to the understated arrangement, to the minimilist lyrics ("whattaya mean, wait'll next year" being my favorite moment), to the clinking of beer bottles as the instrumental sections begin. 

I can't imagine a way this record could be improved! I hope this will become one of your favorite songs, too, whether you enjoy beer or not.


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ADDENDUM, 1/22/23: My best pal Stu has demonstrated, by speeding up this record a few keys, that you can then tell quite well that you're hearing the singer's natural voice in that higher key. This confirms that the recording was slowed down for effect and that it's also clearly not Thurl Ravenscroft. 

Merigail

I don't really have any clue how many or how few of you are out there reading this little site, but if you've been here from the start, or read the archives, you may have come across my post about "The Moreland Tapes", connected to the posting of the song "Head Cheese". You can read it here: http://bobpurse.blogspot.com/2005/07/cheesy.html 

Well, since the last time I posted, I've learned a lot about the singer of that song (and of the other song referenced in that post, "Reputation"). Another piece of writing I did about these tapes came to the attention of a relative of the Moreland family, and I eventually heard from two of Merigail (correct spelling) Moreland's relatives. 

This quite quickly became the most bittersweet of meetings: I was, on the one hand, able to learn that Merigail, whose voice I'd adored on these tapes for so many years, actually made a handful of records, copies of which I was sent. I even learned that she was(perhaps briefly) a Chicago area celebrity, co-hosting her own "American Bandstand" style show, locally, while still in High School in the late 1950's. On the other hand, I was deeply saddened to learn that her life was cut short by Lupus, at around age 48, in 1991. 

She apparently worked as a singer for much of that short life, and I may yet get to here more of her recordings. But for the time being, I have spent the last six or seven months, listening, obsessively at times, to a single she released on a small Chicago label, in 1960. There were actually at least three singles, under then name "Merri Gail", one in 1955, and two in 1960, but this one is the "shoulda been" hit, and the quality of her singing just gives me chills at times. And she was all of 16 or 17 at the time.

Today, I'm sharing both sides of this 45. The version of "Unchained Melody" is first rate, with a great arrangement (love that accordian), and a sexy, longing vocal that seems more knowing than I'd expect from someone so young. Also, the growth in ability and technique from "Reputation", just three years earlier, is astonishing. Here's Merri Gail's "Unchained Melody":

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But as great as I think "Unchained" is, it was only the B-Side to the completely wonderful (if oddly named) "Oo-Lee, Oo-Lee, Papa, Oo-Lee". There is not a thing about this record that I don't adore right down to my bones, and it's flown right to the top of my favorite records of 1960, along with "Cathy's Clown", "It's Now or Never" and the Olympics' "Dance By the Light of the Moon". For "Oo-Lee", before even considering the lead vocal, there is the goofy way the song starts in the middle of a musical phrase, that great bass voice, more coloring from accordian, and a swinging late '50's take on doo-wop. The lyrics are a bit ridiculous in places, but Merigial just sings the hell out of it, suggesting a depth of emotion behind the words that makes me believe she meant every word of it. And the dichotomy between the softly longing vocal of the choruses and the demanding, pleading vocal in the bridges is great, too. 

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It pales next to the tragedy of her short life, of course, but I was truly hoping to someday find Merigail Moreland, meet her, and tell her how much I've loved her recordings, and I've been very saddened to learn that this can never happen. Is it possible to have a crush on a singer who was grown before I was born, and who has been gone for 15 years, based on nothing more than her recordings?

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Here Comes Santa Claus!

At the end of this post is a recording made just over a year ago, during a music and comedy party at our house. But first, a bit of explanation:

For several years, I've found an insane level of amusement via the use of a certain translation website. Specifically, I've found that if I put the words to a song (something complicated, or one which tells a story usually works best) into the translation device, and ask for a translation in German, then put that German translation back into the device and ask for French, then go to Italian, to Spanish, back to Italian, to French, to German, and back to English, the results can be hysterical. 

I'm surely not the only one, or the first one to hit on this idea, but it's resulted in several great translations, and plenty of deep, long laughs. As an example, here is how the first section of the lyrics to "Splish Splash" came out, via this process: 

SPLISH PLOP 

Splish, splashes,I did a bath
Well, the Saturday absorbed on a night the Sunday!
they rub, you synchronize,
To grant the fact of alone in the barrel,
Thinking, that everything remained in the order.

Now, I took out barrel
they put my feet on the ground
I enveloped the bathrobe at myself
And I it opened carries she.

And then a splish, splashes,
I did a jump in the bath
Now like I, to know, he was,
A party continued there.

You were a splishings and a splash
The whirlwind with the feeling
The fact, to move, and a trench
Weighing and a Papiere-Bons!

Bing, noises,I saw the whole fanfare
The dance on my carpet good parlors
Flip tumble
You made the bop
The whole youth age had the dancing bug.
it had be the trendy of chupa-chups for property this Sr.ta
Molly then with a Peggy Son there, also a court there!

A source A. splish, splashes,
I forgot the bath
I went, and I put on well my dancing shoes!

Anyway, what I've just uploaded is a recording made of me reading a translation of "The Night Before Christmas", prepared in this way, with plenty of laughter, both in response, and from me, given that I had not thought to re-read the document just before giving this performance (resulting in my having forgotten the funniest parts, and laughing at them again. Hope you find this enjoyable.

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ADDENDUM, 2/10/22: I didn't want to say the name of the translation site at the time, for fear of letting the company involved know that someone was messing with their free service in this was, but it was a feature of the Lionbridge company, called the iTranslator, and has been defunct now for well over a decade. 

Things I Did Last Summer

Wow - Two months without a post. Well, I do hope things are about to settle down, but between things getting WAY too hectic at work, and several musical and CD projects I owe to friends and aquaintences coming due at the same time (none of which I've finished, weeks later), I've not been paying attention to much of anything else. 

So, although these will be old news for some of the people who read this, but I've uploaded two sound manipulating tracks I worked on, last summer. The first is one of my "cut-up's", the likes of which I used to do, nearly to exhaustion, back in the early '80's, and just recently started doing again. This one started with a friend's suggestion that the English and German versions of "She Loves You" could be merged to create a new, interesting title phrase. 

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The other is a mash-up featuring, as it's basic track, the original recording of "Yesterday", paired with bits and pieces of 16 other records, 15 of which are from the 1976-80 era, and therefore retitled "Now I Long For the Late 1970's". See how many of these songs you can "spot"!

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Saturday, October 22, 2005

Mom

Well, my mom's in the hospital, hopefully being discharged within days. She seems to be bouncing back like a champion, from a fairly major incident in the life of someone her age, and I'm so thankful for that, I can't even put it into words. 

Anyway, I thought I'd post something a bit different than what has been offered up until now, as a way to pay tribute to my mother for the wonderful job she's done, and continues to do, in that role, as well as her amazing gifts and talents as a singer, and as a thank you for the wonderful musical education I was afforded, in childhood. 

My mom had a career as a coloratura soprano, with a history of singing and performance too long to go into here, but because of the wonders of home recording, available to those who chose to avail themselves of it (such as my parents), beginning in the 1950's, I have a treasure trove of recordings of just about everyone in my family, and particularly of my mother's singing. 

The two songs I've uploaded are:

1.) "Depuis Le Jour", possibly the most romantic operatic piece I've ever encountered - it gives me chills just about every time - heard here as recorded in the living room of my family's apartment, in 1954 (you can occaisionally hear the upstairs neighbors moving furniture around upstairs, in apparent dissatisfaction with the racket coming from below). 

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2.) Proch's "Air and Variations", an unbelievably demanding and beautiful composition which I loved to hear when I was five, and still love today. This recording, which unfortunately both skips a neat, understanded piano intro, and ends as the last note is fading, was recorded in my mother's vocal teacher's studio, in 1965. Hope this is to your liking. It's about as wonderful as it gets!

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Sunday, October 09, 2005

Happy Birthday, John

While the rest of the musical world is paying tribute to John Lennon, on what would have been his 65th birthday, by remembering his music and his causes, and amongst all of the radio tributes, I thought I'd post a few tracks that are, perhaps, not getting the airplay that "Imagine", "Come Together", "Twist and Shout" and "Born in a Prison" have gotten today (well, maybe the same amount of airplay that "Born in a Prison" got, since I have my doubts that that one was heard by too many listeners).

I'm a devotee of the "Get Back" tapes, the endless hours of recordings which captured virtually every moment that the Beatles were in the studio (or, for the first two weeks, the film set) in January of 1969. I know that for some people, these recordings are the perfect thing to encourage them to leave the room, but I have listened to them eagerly for years. Today, I have three odd recordings from those sessions, and one rockin' version of a song that ended up on the "Let it Be" album in a vastly different style.

The song from "Let it Be" is "Two of Us", heard here in a slightly incomplete form, as an uptempo rocker, a much, much better setting, in my opinion, than the rather dreary version which was released. The joy between Paul and John, in sharing this arrangement, is palpable. 

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Moving on to the true "outtakes"... The most well known is the improvised (and Lennon-led) song "Suzy's Parker", a condensed version of which showed up in the film "Let it Be". This is the whole thing, though, in all it's ragged, loose glory. (The file has it as "Suzy's Parlour", but that's incorrect...)


Third up is a goofy series of performances that three apparently drunk Beatles performed, after returning from lunch on January 10th, and after George had announced he was quitting the band effective immediately. John riffs on "Don't Be Cruel", and then the three of them wander around with some Bossa Nova songs for a few minutes, with Paul offering some ridiculous vocalizing, and a few lines from Elvis songs, as well. I find this little segment endlessly entertaining.

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Finally is a song I might very well put in my top ten favorite Beatles songs, even though it was never released, and was, in fact, an improvisation. It's January 9th. George complains about the way the band is set up, and plays a few chords to demonstrate. Paul joins in on bass, continuing, even though George stops almost immediately, and leads the rest of the band into what becomes a rockin', if somewhat disjointed, song, a song poking very sarcastic fun at a politician, Enoch Powell, who was making news that week by making some extremely distasteful comments about Pakistani immigrants. The song is called "Commonwealth", and I'm posting it for John's birthday, even though it's Paul's improvisation, first because it's such a great little number, but also because John's addition to the song (the "Yes" shouts in the chorus, and a few other comments), help make the song much better, especially in that Paul cracks up a few times in response to John. (It is not, as some casual listeners have thought from time to time, proof that Paul holds racist views - he's clearly satirizing a racist.) I once wrote out the words to this song (as I heard them), including the points at which Paul mumbles gibberish, unable to think of a rhyme, and will happily send them out or post them, if anyone is interested.

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When I first joined my own rock and roll band, at age 20 or so, in which we first did nothing but Beatles' songs, then later wrote our own songs but interspersed Beatles material into our act, we named ourselves "The Commonwealth", after that song. 

Hope that some of these, if not all of them, are new to you, and that you enjoy them. Happy birthday John, wherever you are.

Friday, October 07, 2005

The Latest in Song-Poems!

Here are a few comments about two tracks I'm sharing today. I've been collecting song-poem records for nearly ten years now, and although my collecting had slowed to a crawl a couple of years ago, it is now going at full speed again, due to CDR trading and online buying.

(for those of you just joining the song-poem world, or not there yet, please see www.songpoemmusic.com for an explanation.)

The songs I've uploaded are two of my favorites among my recent purchases. The first is "Be Optimistic" by Sammy Marshall and the Rays, on the "Roxie" label. Following a short burst of the chorus, this song opens up with a line which has to be among the least likely lyrics one would ever imagine opening a song called "Be Optimistic". But I'll leave that surprise for you.

In general, the song doesn't sustain that insanity level, but the main point of the song - which seems to be along the lines of "don't gamble, and don't believe in luck, but still, 'be optimistic' " - is muddled enough to make for a bizarre listening experience, especially since the singer barely describes anything good happening to you - prior to your arrival in heaven, that is.

Of course, that is to say that the Lord is involved, a message I could agree with, if the theology wasn't so completely black and white: is he actually saying that the bad news of the first verse happened because he "rolled them dice"? And is blind faith in God the very definition of Optimism? Apparently so. Well, um....

But above all, that opening verse, with it's combination of peppy presentation and sad lyrics, just floors me. All of the above is strongly enhanced, all that much more, by one of my four favorite song-poem singers, Sammy Marshall. (The glitches near the end of this MP3, by the way, are present on the record itself.)

The other disk is my very first 78 rpm song-poem purchase. At least I assume it's a song-poem - it's on a label said to be dedicated to such releases, "Stylecraft". On the other hand, maybe it isn't a song-poem - it sounds fairly professional, if odd in lyric and subject. The song is "The Grinder Man", performed by Frankie Day. I love the arrangement, and I'd also love to know exactly what the lyric "...knives and shivs..." means, as I'm not aware of the difference between the two. Perhaps a kind reader/50's gang member out there can clarify this point for me. I'm just glad to own a smoothly sung, demo performance of a tin pan alley-ish song which contains the word "shiv".

Enjoy!

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ADDENDUM, 2/22: As seen in the comments, the line in question is "Knives and Shears", and the song is about a traveling knife sharpener. D'uh. 

Pinky is a Loser

Hot off the turntable, it's a pair of fabulous recordings by Pinky Pinkston and the Dixie Drifters, two sides of the one 45. This has long been one of my favorite "way out there" record releases, one I've always figured to have been a vanity pressing, especially given the two addresses on the label, one in Chicago and one in rural Illinois.

On the other hand, I've recently learned that there exists at least one other Pinky Pinkston release, one which has been anthologized in the past, in a collection put together by Wavy Gravy, of all people, so many Pinky had some sort of musical career.

Such a concept is hard to fathom based on this record. This easily ranks at the bottom among the worst records in my collection (particularly when soul-challenged artistes as such Tony Martin, Fabian, Jay and the Americans, Benny Mardones, Yes, AC/DC and Billy Ocean are removed from consideration for "The Awfulness Awards", and are entered into the (sadly) far more competitive "Horrid But Successful Hitmakers Awards").

Yes, there are few obscure records in my collection which are more cringe inducing than Pinky's song "I Am A Loser", although one of the songs which is even worse is "Beggar Or A Clown", which is conveniently located on the other side of the record, and which also, just like "Loser", features a ferret being tortured, or perhaps that's Pinky's voice. I've yet to be able to make out every last word of these lyrics, due to the unique delivery of the lead singer. If my clock radio alarm were to switch on, and a radio station was playing either of these songs at that moment, I have no doubt whatsoever that I would be positively scared out of my wits.

There's something to be said for the random way that the "I Am a Loser" starts up, and the way that the band members sometimes seem to be playing different songs at the same time, but it is on "Beggar or a Clown" where the true incompetence shows up. Once it gets going, in addition to the spectacularly bad vocal, every now and then, the drummer pounds a bit harder, as if he's suddenly playing a polka, and the guitar solo at the end seems to be made up of almost randomly picked notes. Then the song simply comes to a stop, first with the guitarist deciding he's done, then with the drummer offering a final downbeat.

Perhaps you've noticed a lack of gender identification, on my part, for the Pinkster. Well, I was recently amused to discover, after years of enjoying this record with one of my oldest friends, that he (my friend) had always assumed that Pinky was of one particular (and marvelous) gender, while I had always thought of Pinky as the other (equally fabulous) gender.

I'll let the readers/listeners have a bit of fun listening (I certainly shouldn't be the only one to have the rare chance to listen to this record any time I want), and offer up their guesses as to whether Pinky is/was a lady or a gentleman. Please do tell!

I have no memory whatsoever of when or where it was that I came across this record, but given that the Chicago address on the label is not far from a highway I take every few days, the aforementioned friend and I went to that address one day, and found a rather upscale apartment in the Lincoln Park neighborhood, where the listing on the door did not show any sign of anyone named "Pinkston".

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ADDENDUM, 2/22: I have long since learned that (as also confirmed in the comments) Pinky's name was Joseph Pinkston, and, of course, was male. I've also obtained several more records and sound files by Pinky, including a few that I actually find compelling and enjoyable, and I later posted those here

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Must Be the Wooden Shoes....

Today, I am sharing the contents of a little acetate I found somewhere or other about 15 years ago, a violin performance of "Dutch Dance", recorded in 1952 by one Walter Feiss (well, that's actually a guess - I suppose there could have been two Walter Feisses trading off phrases, but I doubt it).

While I won't deny that this record is part of the "Difficult Listening Hour", I treasure anything like this record, whenever I'm lucky enough to come across one. I must have hundreds of home recorded records from the golden age of home record cutters (1940's and 1950's). Some of recordings of other records, many have recordings off of the radio, and many more (the ones I am really looking for) have some sort of home recording, either audio records or musical performances. For some reason, this one has always stood out as a favorite of mine. Let me know what you think.

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Friday, September 23, 2005

Dear Prudence

I love the music of the late '50's. As much as I love the Beatles and the music of the late sixties, as well as the music of my early adulthood (late '70's and early '80's), the pop and rock from the 1954-63 era is more enjoyable to me than that of any other 10 year period of the last 60 years. And one reason for that preference has to be records such as those made by Patience and Prudence.

Patience and Prudence had just two hits, one of which, "Tonight You Belong to Me", would be high on my list of the best hit records ever. And yet, after years of finding other P & P records in used record stores, I discovered that a good percentage of their non-hits were almost as good as that lone top ten hit. An early favorite of mine, during that collecting binge, was "You Tattletale", which I discovered well over 20 years ago. More recently, with the release of a CD of virtually all of their recorded work, I've been enamored of "Over Here", as bizarre an attempt at 1950's hit making as you're likely to hear.

While these tracks can probably no longer be considered "obscure", what with the CD release I mentioned, they are both certainly wonderful. "You Tattletale" deserved to be nearly as big of a hit as "Tonight, You Belong to Me", what with it's peppy piano, swinging brushes on the drums, and the wholly wonderful harmonies by Patience and Prudence McIntyre. The song itself is a great little piece of writing, too.

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"Over Here", on the other hand, defies explanation, except to say that it involved Ross Bagdasarian, which is perhaps all one has to know. The future David Seville co-wrote this beautiful train wreck of a song, and the only bad thing I can say about it is that the production values make the words hard to decipher. But there's a real treat waiting for those who listen closely: It's almost unreal to hear these 15 and 13 year old sisters singing sarcastic lyrics in which the "ridiculous" behaviors of a series of foreign cultures are played against the clearly more outlandish behaviors of Americans.

To paraphrase some of those verses:

Isn't it terrible how they torment the bull in Spain? Oh, and can I have some more
steak?

Isn't it odd how the Italians spend a whole evening working on, eating and enjoying
a meal? Boy, I gotta finish this drink and get outta here - I sure hate this ulcer.

All set to a rollicking arrangement, in which each verse's music reflects the culture they are supposedly dismissing. And this was supposed to be a hit? Couldn't be. But a killer track, nonetheless!

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Saturday, July 23, 2005

My First Reel

Per Michael's request, in response to my "listening list" a few weeks ago, I am sharing several files today, from that list.

Without a doubt, my favorite of this batch is "Jamaican Rhumba" by Percy Faith and his Orchestra, and here's a little story to go with that number, as well as "Jungle Fantasy".

In late 1952, my dad bought one of the first reel to reel tape recorders which was on the market, a Concertone behemoth. The company was based in California, and when the machine arrived, it came with a reel of tape already on it. The tape contained five complete songs, all of them studio recordings, banded with leader between the tracks, plus a short accordion and tuba polka at the end of the tape, literally running out at the end of the tape. There was nothing written on the tape or the box.

My parents recognized the singer on the first song on the tape as Doris Day, and also assumed this was an outtake, as she can be heard complaining about how she "goofed it up again" at the end. The other songs were unknown to anyone in the family. Two of them were Latin styled instrumentals, one was a rather horrid song, featuring a male vocal with chorus and orchestra, and one was a nice recording featuring a female singer and orchestra.

I came into the world eight years later, and grew up with this tape, along with dozens of other, home recorded tapes, many of which predated my existence. I found the same fascination with this strange, intriguing studio recorded tape as my brother had before me, but neither of us ever learned anything more about it. My favorite tune on the tape was the first of the two latin numbers - this was undoubtedly because it had the same melody as a song called 'Mango Walk", which was featured on one of my favorite kids 45's (a record of songs of many lands, in this case, Jamaica or Trinidad, I think). I mean, it was the exact same song, chorus and verse. Since I'd already grown up with some calypso music, that probably also made this one a favorite me, too.

Flash forward to sometime in 2003 or 2004. During a conversation with my brother, we come to realize that the internet may be able to tell us something about what's on our tape. Very quickly, we're able to determine that all three of the vocal performances on our tape were released, perhaps in other versions, on the Columbia label, in 1952, one by Doris Day with Percy Faith, one by Guy Mitchell with Mitch Miller's orchestra, and one by Rosemary Clooney with Percy Faith! The two female releases were even hits in Billboard!

Okay, so we thought, that leaves the instrumentals. What did Percy Faith release in 1952 or so. This took a little more time, but eventually, we discovered the titles of our two mystery songs, Jamaican Rhumba (that's the "Mango Walk" one), and "Jungle Fantasy". The following Christmas, my brother and I surprised each other when each of us gave the other the reissue of the Percy Faith album (from 1953) which contained those two recordings.

We've even discovered that at least three of the five tracks on the tape have errors or differences from the released version (the accordion piece at the end has errors, too), making it likely that this was some sort of reel of "good but not perfect" takes from a Columbia recording session or sessions!

And if that's not cool, I don't know what is!

So anyway, here are both of those songs (from the released version - I'm keeping the outtake versions for myself), as well as a third song from the CD (Wow! Wow! Wow!) that I greatly enjoyed. While there are a few of Percy Faith's hits that I enjoy, particularly "The Song from Moulin Rouge", most of his records are fairly sedate. This stuff, on the other hand, I find to be positively infectious (in the case of "Jamaican") and intense (in the case of "Jungle").

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