Sunday, August 31, 2008

A Gorgeous Little Song

This song was actually featured as part of a post to the 365 Days Project last year, but I fear it got lost as part of a collection of random singles that I posted to that project, all in the same day, and it really deserves to shine on its own. 

Here's a portion of what I wrote at that time about the song, "Jingle Down a Hill" by Gaitley and Fitzgerald:

This one is so good I can still picture where I was the first time I heard it: Almost 20 years ago, I was on my way to a new job, and listening to a cassette tape I had made of a stack of 45's, recorded earlier that day (with one of those record players which would drop the records one at a time). "What the hell was THAT" went through my mind, and I rewound it and listened about five more times. It's actually the B-side of a song which has been included on several psychadelic comps, but that song on the A-side doesn't move me at all.

On the other hand, this B-side... well, it's just one of the loveliest things I've ever heard. The folky arrangement fits the song perfectly, the Everly Brothers harmonies on the bridge get me every time, and the simple piano figure at the end of each chorus has echoed in my head since that first listen in 1990. The cruddy production prevents me from making out every word, but I can get most of them, and they portray a sweet description of tender love for the singer's girl, and time spent together.

"Whistlin' as we walk along, smilin' all the way Singin' with the summer wind, slow and happy days Alone and free, the world to see, Jingle down a hill"

Although I'm sure I have a couple of the words wrong, here and elsewhere in the song, I certainly get a detailed picture of the life the singers are describing, and the imagery is absolutely magical. If anyone wants to have a go at all of the lyrics, and perhaps catch a few I've been unable to make out, by all means do. I've listened to this record hundreds of times over the years, and it never gets old, and always hits me in just the right place.

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Tuesday, August 19, 2008

More Children's Records (and Then Some)

As a followup to my recent post at WFMU's Blog about "The Three Little Pigs", I thought I'd post more of the obscure (and, to varying degrees, wonderful) 78's and 45's that my mother recorded on a reel to reel tape back in 1964, for posterity. 

First up, two absolutely wonderful songs from Al Goodman and his Orchestra. These are not children's records, but they were presented to me in that way in childhood, as both were featured on that tape I just described, a tape which was almost exclusively featured kid's records.

In in both cases here, though, these are hi-fi era remakes (although these records are admittedly no longer "hi-fi") of orchestral favorites from the dawn of recording, songs originally recorded for Victor in the first decade of the 20th Century. 

First up is "A Hunt in the Black Forest": 

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 And the flip side is "In a Clock Store": 


From the opposite end of the 'Wonderful' spectrum, come two sides of a children's 45, which apparently were excerpted from an album titled "Songs About Words", credited to The Sandpipers, Jim Timmons and Orchestra. These are genuinely weird, especially the first one, which is titled "Rattlesnake":


The flip side is "Alpha-Beetle": 

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Next up are two songs that were favorites of mine in 1964 (when I was three, then four). The first appeared on the Cricket label - it's a song that I actually used to sing at that age - I have a tape on which I'm singing it, none of which is odd, except that the song is "The Little Dutch Girl". Here's the record: 

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And here is a series of little poems and songs, some of them quite odd, and another favorite from my childhood, one with no artist credited, titled "More Pussy Cat Rhymes": 

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Here's a wonderful little record from the early 1950's, if not earlier. I found out recently that it's a vintage "corny" group (a category that included Spike Jones, as well as the Hoosier Hot Shots). In this case, it's The Korn Kobblers, although this performance was credited to someone else once it was reissued on a children's label, which is how I heard it. It's the old song "Polly Wolly Doodle", but I've always been quite taken with just how much is going on during this performance, especially near the end: 

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Finally, an actually hit group, The Ames Brothers, with a song from the mid 1950's, featuring an extremely clever lyric and great harmony singing, "I Saw Esau". Again, this is not a children's song, but as with the first two songs (above), it was presented to me as such, since it was on our tape of children's records:

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 Special thanks to mom for preserving all of these records while they were still in half-decent condition!

Saturday, May 17, 2008

John Cleese Sings!

During an interview many years ago, on David Letterman's show, John Cleese told the story of his first work in America, as a chorus singer on Broadway, as I recall. The point of his story was that he cannot sing, and although he managed to get the job anyway, he more or less pretended to be singing throughout the length of the job. 

As a result of having hearing that story, I was quite surprised to hear the following selection, which I've excerpted from an episode of the long running BBC-Radio comedy show, "I'm Sorry I'll Read That Again", which featured Cleese before, throughout and after the run of Monty Python, during its mid-'60's to mid-'70's run. 

On the other hand, I was not surprised at the quality of Cleese's singing or of the opening joke, "Anybody should be singing it but John Cleese". I hope you enjoy Mr. Cleese singing his heart out on "The Ferret Song". 

Play:

Friday, April 25, 2008

I Love a Mystery

Anyone who knows me probably knows I love a good musical mystery. My passion for an album called "Musical Memories of Camp Bryn Afon" led not only to a post at the original 365 days project, but an entire privately reissued release of the album as a CD. And for the last few years, I've updated my discoveries about Merigail Moreland, both at WFMU's blog and in this blog. 

Recently, I had the chance to listen to virtually every song which made the Billboard Hot 100 chart in 1957. I love that era of music, and came across dozens of tracks I hadn't heard before, and which I either loved immediately or am growing to love. But one of the standouts, for me, was a record which may not cause the same reaction among the majority of listeners. 

Perhaps it's old news among other collectors and music obsessives like me, but this record, "That's All I Want From You" by The Silva-Tones, is not quite like anything else I've ever heard. It starts with fairly odd doo-wop vocalizing - "chu-wah-wah", which leads into what sounds like a harmonium. Whatever that instrument is, it dominates the few other instruments on the record, which is bathed in the degree of reverb that Stan Freberg liked to make fun of. 

I already had that "deer in the headlights" feeling before the lead singer even started. And when he did, the bizarre quotient went way, way up. Sounding like a demented version of Robin Gibb (several years before the Bee Gees made any records, of course), with inflections and pronunciations that only added to the weirdness, this vocalist had me completely in his power. I find his voice, by turns, deeply moving and then completely ridiculous, and back again.

For the last few weeks, I've barely let a day go by without listening to this record, and saying one version or another of "what the hell"? On the one hand, it seems sort of like a car crash, but on the other hand, there is something about that greatly appeals to me. I've been able to find out almost nothing about this group, and my Joel Whitburn Hot 100 book doesn't say anything about the group either. 

Here it is, hope you enjoy it! Anyone with information about this group or this recording is encouraged to offer comment:

Play

Monday, March 10, 2008

His Name is Barker Bill



I thought I might toot my own horn here a bit, and share a little piece I recorded almost eight years ago. This was the first recording I did for what I'd hoped would be a quickly recorded follow-up to my 1996 collection of songs "The Many Moods of Bob". That collection was simply a cassette given out to friends and whoever else requested a copy. The new recording was to be a full fledged, well produced CD.

While I've been able to record many tracks since then, all of which sound much better than my earlier recordings, due to better equipment, time has been the enemy, and the project still sits unfinished, with about 35-40 minutes worth of material more or less ready, and another ten or twelve minutes of songs which I just don't seem to be able to find the time to complete.

This piece - a combination of nostalgia and my own strange taste in music - remains one of my favorites.

To fully understand, you have to first hear this Little Golden Record, a five inch yellow 78 which has been in my family's collection, and much beloved, for well over 50 years. It's called Barker Bill, and here is that original children's record:



During a visit to my brother's home in 2000, I used his home studio to record my own version of the song. After recreating the open bars of the Little Golden Record, things get revved up into a whole different style. I created the backing track, playing everything on my brother's keyboard (using midi software), and using all the singers in my family, professional and otherwise, to sing the lines from the two bridge sections. I'm the singer for the main part of the song, including the bass voice and most of the massed voices heard at the end.

On the first bridge, you'll hear the voices of my two daughters, ages eight and six at the time, as well as my mother. On the second bridge, you'll hear my sister, my brother and my neice.

Given that I love Caribbean music, and also adore marimbas, it's not surprising that I'm particularly fond of the little instrumental section in the middle of the song.

Hope you enjoy it.



When finished, the album will be titled "A Few More Plans", after a rather strange instrumental piece that I've been playing with for a decade or more. Maybe I'll share that piece, one of these days. In the meantime, if you're of a mind to, let me know what you think of "Barker Bill".

Monday, February 25, 2008

It's All Elvis' Fault

I love calypso music. Over the last several years, I've come around to the way of thinking that says that, at least in its original Trinidadian form, calypso may be the most perfect style of music ever developed by humans. 

Today's example is not part of the Trinidad tradition, and by its subject matter, quite clearly comes from the great mid-1950's revival of calypso. It's also more cute than it is "great" or "perfect". 

What little I can find out about this group, which went by the rather unweildy moniker of "The Fabulous McClevertys", is that this was in fact, the family name, and that the band was, for a time, the backing combo for the little known Calypso performer "The Mighty Charmer", a violinest and singer who later abandoned music and became better known under the name Louis Farrakhan. 

Each side of the record fits one of Calypso's typical subjects, with the A-side being quite topical, and the B-side being about one aspect of (as a great Calypso compilation once described it) "the human condition". 

I was rather surprised to find that this single was on Verve, a label associated at the time (1957 or 1958) with some of the best Jazz being made, and additionally, a bit later, with cutting edge comedy.  
The A-side: "Don't Blame It On Elvis": 

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And the B-Side: "Tickle, Tickle":

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Mom

Well, there's been no activity here for some time, and that's almost entirely due to the death of my mother at the end of last year, after a series of illness over the past few years. 

I've written about her before, and rather than go into any great detail, since this is a music blog, and if I can indulge a bit, I thought I'd just share some of the music I was lucky enough to hear, while growing up, as well as one song I had the pleasure of introducing my mom to, and playing piano for. 

First, two acetates, both of which I believe are from around 1944, when she was perhaps 20 years old: I apologize in advance for how loud these may be coming out of your speakers. 

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A Broadway standard, recorded in the late 1950's: 

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A more gorgeous piece you're unlikely to find, than "Shepherd on the Rock", heard here from 1959. This is admittedly quite lengthy, but I love it. There is an unfortunate splice right near the end of the piece, which cuts out a few moments of the big finish: 



The following version of Mozart's Alleluia, recorded around 1965, was played at my mother's funeral (despite it being marred by it's own glitch in the last second): 


And finally, a song by William Bolcom, which became mom's signature piece near the end of her life, particularly once her days as a soprano soloist were coming to an end. That's me fumbling around on piano on this recording. The picture below this link is of the two of us, performing the song (not the same time as this recording) at mom's 80th birthday party, in 2003: 



Thanks for everything, mom.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

That's Rock and Roll

I think that sometimes I go on too long about the recordings I'm sharing here, so today, I'll just say that I'm offering up a classic by a lost father (or perhaps brother) of Rock and Roll, Mr. Barry Gordon, and his classic MGM release "Rock Around Mother Goose". Rock Me Another, Barry!

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Friday, November 23, 2007

Drama Queen

I'll say right off the bat that today's selection is one which may have many listeners having the sort of negative response which may range anywhere from "no, that's not for me" to violently stopping the sound file with something approaching disgust. And I'll admit that the opening 19 seconds, which contain a dramatic recitative type introduction, are cringeworthy, and I encourage you to wait them out and try the rest of the song. 

There is simply something about a certain subset of teen girl records from the late '50's and early '60's that makes those records connect with me in a way few other records do. I've already shared the Merigail Moreland recording of "Oo-Lee, Papa", in this blog and elsewhere, and the masterful "What's She Got (That I Ain't Got)". 

In this case, the song is "She's Going Steady with You", by Janie Grant, the B-side of a hit song from 1962 called "Triangle". While the A-side visits much the same topic within the same genre of music, the real winner is hiding on the flipside, and should have been the hit. 

It helps that the song is, at times, taken almost directly from the song "A Fool Such as I", in terms of chords and melody, and that the overall feel is similar to Elvis' rendition of "Fool" (perhaps my favorite of Elvis' big hits). But there's something more to it, and for me, that's in the singer's performance. 

There are at least as many teen girl songs in this genre that I can't stand, the worst of all perhaps being "Bobby's Girl", and that's where I have a hard time explaining what's wonderful and what's horrid. For me the difference tends to be in what I perceive in the performance. 

In "Bobby's Girl" and its ilk, I don't sense for a moment that the singer or anyone else on the record believes the lyric - the singer sounds like she's there to do a job. On today's record and others I have shared and might share, I sense that the singer feels the lyric with every inch of her being, perhaps has even lived it, and I also find that the music sounds as if the musicians were trying to make a good record, rather than simply make something that 13 year olds might like for a month. 
Have a listen, and let me know what you think:

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ADDENDUM, 2021: After writing this post, I heard from Janie Grant herself, who confirmed that, yes, this was a song based on personal experience, as I had perceived upon hearing it. 

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Guessing Game

I have no real clue how many folks are reading the these posts, but I wanted to involve as many people as possible by asking you to guess the recording act heard on this record. Comments are always welcome, and can be shared by clicking on the comment button at the bottom of any post. 

Anyway... The Golden Age of Novelty Records (roughly 1956 through the late 1960's) is, in my opinion, well named. There is a virtually endless list of funny, odd, and downright peculiar records from that era, hits, near hits and obscurities, that were made in order to deliberately make people laugh, become confused and/or collapse into bewilderment.

Certainly a favorite of mine from that era is Rolf Harris' "Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport". It was a massive hit, one of the bigger hits of any genre in 1963, and like most novelty records, would seem to be the type of thing that wouldn't really work well as a cover record or remake. 

Novelty songs as different in style and quality as "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Ha", "Witch Doctor", "Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah" "My Boomerang Won't Come Back" and "Tie Me Kangaroo Down" are all so unique, and uniquely tied in with their creators that to have made another version, particularly while the song was still a hit, seems ludicrous. 

But here we have just such a cover version. I would never have expected this song to be covered, and I never would have expected this recording act to have done such a record. The charm of the original is completely lost in this overblown version, with it's sound effects, unnecessary additional shout outs, such as "in memoriam", and the sheer incompetence shown by the singing of the line "watch me wallaby's feed" as "watch me wallaby's feet".

Anyway, let's play guess who made the record. Here 'tis:

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ADDENDUM, 2021 - The answer has long since been in the comments, below. Did you guess him? 

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Frantic Pointlessness

I frequently buy used reel to reel tapes, if either the price is right, or the contents look intriguing, or both. I tend to come into possession of tapes quicker than I can find opportunities to listen to them, and so have a backlog of interesting listening at all times. 

This week, I listened to a tape made by someone in the Washington, D.C. area, of various public radio programs, one of which was a featuring on early 20th century recordings of ragtime music. It was quite enjoyable, but the first several records simply did not prepare me for the wonders of this recording of a song called "Oh! You La! La!", by Wilbur Sweatman and his group of apparently tireless instrumentalists and perhaps overcaffeinated drummers. 

There is more energy in this record than in anything else I can think of at the moment, particularly in the second half of the tune. I suspect that at least a few of these musicians had to lie down when they were done making this recording. I certainly would love to have had the opportunity to hear these fellows live! 

(By the way, the host of the radio show reported that the edge of this disc was "scooped" - I think that's the term - and that's what led to the first notes bending upwards as the performance begins.)

Click on the link, and enjoy!

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ADDENDUM, 2021: The Wikipedia page for Wilbur Sweatman is worth a read. He seems to have been quite the pioneer. 

Friday, October 26, 2007

Who Knows This Melody?

It suddenly occured to me that maybe, someday, someone will drop by my humble blog abode, someone who knows the name of this melody. 

The long story short here is that this unnamed tune was recorded at the tail end of the first reel of tape my family ever owned, a professional reel that otherwise contained studio outtakes by some of the big names of the early '50's. When the reel to reel tape recorder my father ordered in 1952, arrived, this reel was on the machine. I've written about it before, well over a year ago, in this blog.

My brother and I have identified the other five tracks (and the artists performing them) on the tape (even two instrumentals, which was a challenge), and we've confirmed that each of them has at least a slight difference from the released versions of the same tracks. But we are stumped as to the title of this short tune, which most certainly does not sound like a studio outtake by one of the big names of the early '50's! Does anyone out here recognize the melody?

Here 'tis: 

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The last note is gone, worn away after years of people playing this tape. 

There is actually more to this mystery than I've shared here, but I'll save that for another day.