Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Herman Hupfeld - Not a One Shot Wonder AS TIME GOES BY - “Sing Something Simple”


     Here's a multi-part salute to HERMAN HUPFELD, who died before we were born (February 1, 1894-June 8, 1951). 

    You must remember this: Herman Hupfeld was NOT a one shot wonder. 

    Yes, he's best known for the enduring ballad "As Time Goes By." Still, if you have an interest in older music, you'll find plenty of amusing and surprisingly upbeat numbers in his catalog. Back in 1931-1933, most radio stations were playing a lot of his stuff and Broadway producers welcomed his contributions. These tunes were recorded by the most popular big bands of the day, from  Paul Whiteman in America to Ambrose in England.


    Hupfeld's most famous song  “As Time Goes By,” first appeared, as did most of his work, in a Broadway show. “Everybody’s Welcome” was the 1931 stage production that needed some extra material. There was comedy from the Ritz Brothers, a cute leading lady named Harriette Lake (who would eventually change her name to Ann Sothern), and room for a good romantic ballad for the show's star, the now-forgotten Frances Williams. The song wasn't that popular at the time. No record company raced to sign Ms. Williams to sing it. One of the few who did record it back then was Rudy Vallee, but it took the Bogart movie to turn that song into an enduring standard.


      In the meantime, Herman Hupfeld, born in Montclair, New Jersey and living there (and he'd die there), came across the Hudson River to come across with fodder for more shows. Some of the material was topical (about The Depression) or addressed other timely issues. In “Sing Something Simple,” Herman offered a Hup 2, 3,4 on the problem of modern jazz tunes:

    “Songs they write today, must be solved, they’re too involved!
    Oh what a mental strain: it takes a week or more to master one refrain.
    The subjects and complicated words with minor thirds: oh what an awful jam.
    Who cares about the love life of a clam?” 


    Just where Herman got that LAST line from, I have no idea. Somebody wrote about the love life of a clam? Maybe it was the risque Dwight Fiske? No, he wrote "Ida the Wayward Sturgeon." “Three Little Fishies” was a novelty hit about fish who “swam and swam all over the dam,” but they didn’t encounter a clam. That song was a hit about seven years after Herman's tune. “Do the Clam” from Elvis Presley was even later. And so was Cher with “Gypsies Clams and Thieves.” But I could be wrong about that. 


      Below are a few versions released back in the days of 78's. Whether this long play album has Herman's song, or a different song using the same title really doesn't matter does it? It sure brightens up this entry. 



      Some folks out there appreciate the kind of bouncy ditties that turned up in Betty Boop cartoons, and are featured in Busby Berkeley musicals. Herman Hupfeld's songbook is full of them, and for fans of fun 78's, you'll find several more in the  posts below that also pay tribute to the man from Montclair. Herman brought a lot of amusement to a lot of people, even if he may not have had such a happy time of it himself.

      Author Aljean Harmetz, who wrote a book on the making of Casablanca, speculated, “He may never have been in love. In fact he may never have had any adventures at all except the ones he composed. Even his World War I service consisted of playing in a Navy band a few hundred miles from home. Herman Hupfeld was born in Montclair, New Jersey in 1894 and died there, on the same street, in 1951.”  A simple life. 

SAY SOMETHING SIMPLE - Frank Luther  

SING SOMETHING SIMPLE - Fred Rich (instant download or listen online) No annoying egocentric Passwords

Herman Hupfeld - Moonlight and Love Songs OR "Moonlight and Pretzels"



      The graves of Herman Hupfeld and his mother. 

     The man who wrote about “moonlight and love songs never out of date,” wrote some songs for the forgotten “Moonlight and Pretzels.” Neither song (download links below) is particularly "out of date," especially if you enjoy nostalgic razzmatazz and fetchingly catchy pop-jazz.

    Written at the height of The Depression, 1933, the cheerful “I’ve Gotta Get Up and Go To Work” is sung by Dick Robertson, who is obviously grateful to have a job:


     “A lucky guy just getting by…oh such is life, my darling wife I’m doing it all for you. I’ll phone at noon, I’ll see you soon….the time’s not far away when every man will say: I have a job, so help me Bob, I gotta get up and go to work!”
 


    Compare that to glum Paul Simon nearly 40 years later: “Tomorrow’s gonna be another working day and I’m trying to get some rest.” Yeah, Mr. “we lived so well so long” was in a different space than Hupfeld, who was cheerleading people to be positive and thankful for what they had. 


     The Depression was an excuse for people to want music FREEEEE, but many were glad to pay for a boost in their spirits. Back then you could walk into a record store and come out with hopes and dreams. There was also a lively business in sheet music, and pianist-singers were employed in department stores to entice people with the latest tunes.

    Your second download from "Moonlight and Pretzels" features Ramona Davies. She asks “Are You Making Any Money?”  Being a practical female, that’s ALL she wants to know. Davies, featured with the Paul Whiteman orchestra, was usually listed simply as RAMONA. If Ray Davies ever wants to re-issue “Out of the Wardrobe” or really sell a “hey are you gay can you come out and play” lyric, he could use the “Ramona Davies” name. 

      As usual for these 78 rpm tunes, there’s a lot of music (we go 1:30 minutes) before there’s any lyrics. And the lyrics? Do they make a lot of sense? Not a lot: “You make love dandy, you make swell molasses candy, but honey are you makin’ any money, that’s all I want to know!”  

    The best things in life are free, as another Depression-era song goes. If not free (moonlight), pretty cheap (pretzels). While many were out of work, Hupfeld was knocking out songs. That doesn't mean he was out all night enjoying himself, and hobbing his nob with stage stars.  


     Hupfeld seemed to lead a rather dull and cloistered life at home in Montclair, New Jersey. His mother’s house was within a pretzel’s throw. One distant relative recalled that he had a drinking problem, which may have had to do with his problems being either asexual or gay. Michael Feinstein says the latter: 


    “There was a big divide back then between performers and songwriters that were gay. Most of the songwriters were in the closet. People knew that Cole Porter was gay but he never spoke of it and was married. There were many songwriters who were gay such as Herman Hupfeld who wrote "As Time Goes By." Many people did not want it to impact their careers. But then there were people at MGM like Conrad Salinger, who was film composer that was so outrageously flamboyant but he didn't care what people thought because his job was secure and he was extraordinarily talented. For performers it was very much hidden.”

    Hupfeld’s mother out-lived him by several years but as you see from the photo above, they remain side by side for eternity, as they did back in Montclair, New Jersey.


  I’VE GOTTA GET UP AND GO TO WORK: DICK ROBERTSON 

ARE YOU MAKING ANY MONEY (gosh, buy it IF you like it) - Ramona (not Ray) DAVIES

Gay Wack-Off Herman Hupfeld sings about GOOPY GEER


    Our salute continues. In the early 1930’s, Herman Hupfield was in his late 30’s. It was the peek of his creativity. 

        Most of the songs he wrote were for Broadway revues. An exception seems to be the 1932 novelty “Goopy Geer,” which turns up in a “Merrie Melodies” cartoon by that name. As seen above, and festooned through the entry, the novelty short featured the best piano playing you’ll see from a four-fingered dog. 




    Title character Goopy is cheered by other animals as he enters what had to be a very progressive nightclub. They probably only had a few restrooms despite all the different varieties of wildlife the place attracted. Maybe there weren't any elephants, as they might object to Goopy pounding the ivories of a relative. 

    Animator Rudolf Ising’s creation was in theaters in April of 1932. In June and July, two more cartoons featured Goopy: “Moonlight For Two” and “The Queen Was in the Parlor.” At that point, he was sent to the pound and euthanized. Or maybe put out to stud. Take your choice. 




    You get TWO versions of the song. One of them is by Mr. Hupfeld, a rare waxing for the introverted songwriter. He wasn’t a stage performer, and didn't appear in nightclubs where he could promote his work, so record companies weren’t too interested. His singing is quite professional.

    The other version is from British big band leader Ambrose. The opening here, which may have inspired the Paul Daniels “not a lot” catch-phrase, has a fellow enthusing about the great new pianist Goopy Geer: 


    “Oh Mr. Ambrose, do you like this boy’s playing?” “Not much.” 


    In comes Goopy to dazzle. As the vocalist enthuses: “Some day he’ll pack the Albert Hall!” (In Hupfeld's American version it's "Carnegie Hall"). Mr. Ambrose, adapting a line from an old Moran and Mack punchline, mutters, “I wouldn’t like that if it was good.” This version tosses in a few references to everything from “Il Trovatore” to “Three Blind Mice.”


    Hupfeld’s “Goopy Geer” was the A-side of his lone single. The B-side is b-side the point…because it’s not here. It’s “Down the Old Back Road” and Herman, being a gay bachelor, may have had a double meaning to that one. 


GOOPY GEAR, sung by the lad himself, HERMAN HUPFELD

The British GOOPY GEER via AMBROSE - As always, NO passwords, dodgy Putinville servers, or bratty requests for Paypal donations

Un-depressed HERMAN HUPFELD: “Let’s Put Out The Lights And Go To Sleep”



     The salute to the lesser known works of Herman "As Time Goes By" Hupfeld continues with more of his attempts to lighten up the Depression era. They say that misery helps produce creativity, and it may be so in Herman's case. Almost all of his most interesting songs seem to be written in the four years after the stock market crash. He seemed to have less luck in the 1940's.

    It’s important to remember that artists usually reflect their times. A knowledge of sociology works hand in hand with musicology.  Many believe The Beatles’ bright, new innocent tunes like “I Want to Hold Your Hand” were embraced by America because it was still reeling from the assassination of John F. Kennedy. It’s possible there would not have been a British invasion if bullets hadn’t invaded JFK.   

    Likewise, the bouncy tunes Hupfeld wrote for a variety of Broadway shows, were a musical tonic for people trying to escape their gloom and have hope for better days. While sad songs say so much, and several dire songs reflected the times, such as “Brother Can You Spare a Dime,” most people purged their melancholy with light hearted ditties.  


    The lyrics for this song are scant, but suggest that it’s best not to swell on worry:


     “No more company to keep. No more papers left to read. What to do about it? Let’s put out the lights and go to sleep. No more anything to drink. Leave those dishes in the sink. What to do about it? Let’s put out the lights and go to sleep….No more money in the bank. No cute baby we can spank. What do do about it? Let’s put out the lights and go to sleep.” 

    Today the economy for singers and songwriters is pretty depressing. The same fuckwits who probably deny climate change, deny that giving away thousands of albums a day in forums and blogs is hurtful to the economy of artists, record labels,  record stores, etc.) The same king pests who’d rather pollute a lake with a speedboat’s noise and gasoline, are the ones who gratify their ego by smirking, “Anything you want, I gots me 200 GB of music on the computer so ask nice and I will reward you." With so much given away free, few need to buy anything. This appeals to turd-heads in third rate countries who simply want to get back at high-living people in the USA and UK.  The other "sharers" are often sociopaths who give away music, films, books, games, etc. because it's illegal and it gives them a thrill. And they haven't the guts to shoplift a pack of chewing gum in the real world. 


    "Let's Put Out the Lights..." was recorded with a female vocal in America (Ramona Davies in front of Paul Whiteman’s orchestra) and a male vocal in England (Sam Browne fronting Syd Lipton’s orchestra.) Sam Browne is no relation to British female vocalist Sam Brown, who blew the roof off the dumb when she sang “Horse to the Water” at the George Harrison tribute concert in 2002. 


     Yes, as John Marley could've told you, most anything gruesome can be forgotten if you just turn out the lights and go to sleep.

GO TO SLEEP with Syd Lipton's Orchestra and Sam Browne's vocals
GO TO SLEEP with Paul Whiteman's Orchestra and Ramona Davies' vocals

HEPCAT HERMAN HUPFELD - “When Yuba Plays the Rhumba on the Tuba”



    In the era before calling a business involved “Press one for English, press two para Espanol,” and before there was a Taco Bell on every street corner, Latino culture was considered exotic and amusing. Periodically Carmen Miranda, Desi Arnaz or some similar performer would get American hips swaying to the latest dance craze from Cuba or South America or Florida, the hell-hot low class dickhead-filled state that looks like a drooping penis (a Top 10 item: “Miami Beach Rhumba.”).

    Yes, the search for new rhythms didn’t begin when Paul Simon got into his thimble and paddled over to South Africa and then rode a dragonfly to Brazil. It didn’t start when black rap artists began to steal the white man’s shitty disco music or “sample” copyrighted music effects using the Japanese man’s Yamaha technology. 


    Herman’s novelty take on the rhumba craze not only offers up a ridiculous instrument for such frisky music, but takes an uncomplimentary view on Yuba: “His name was Yuba. He was homely, he was dumb…just a big ambitious bum…ba doopa doopa doopa…” Doopa doopa, he was homelier than an oompa loompa. 




     This wasn’t the first and wasn’t the last comical Latin number. We duly note Vic Mizzy’s “He’s a Latin from Staten Island” and Eli Basse’s “Since Chana Came Back from Havana.” Maybe these will turn up on this blog of less renown someday…instead of a few dozen more Neil Young bootlegs for the pinheads who already own ten 2TB drives full of ‘em but need them ALL. 

    Over here, the point isn’t to feed the piggies who grow obese on 1gb downloads of slop they’ll never even listen to, it’s to savor and respect unusual music and musicians. Rather than "album cover and link" from some Croatian dunce who barely knows the English word for download, the idea is to give some background on the life and times of the artists and reward the inquiring real music fans who don't settle for tapioca in their ears courtesy of James Last or Windham Hill.


    Advanced students of the Kay Kyser Kollege of Musical Knowledge may already know this tune thanks to covers by such well known names as The Mills Brothers and Spike Jones. Naturally, more obscure versions are below. First, we have the reliable but mostly UK-known Ambrose and his Orchestra, and second, amusing four part harmonies by The Revelers, who were: James Melton (tenor), Lewis James (tenor), Elliott Shaw (baritone), and Wilfred Glenn (bass). 


YUBA via AMBROSE -- no egocentric PASSWORD and no spyware-server from Putinvillle 

YUBA via THE REVELERS - no bratty chide about a PAYPAL donation.  

HERMAN HUPIELD that SILLY SAVAGE: “SAVAGE SERENADE”



    In September of 1933, Hupfeld’s “weirdest music” was accompanied by jungle lyrics about…the Everglades! Huh? There were savages in the Everglades back then? As opposed to idiot meth-addicted lobster-skinned white trash? 

    “There’s a crazy celebration every night…you hear the weirdest music…it really is a fascinating sight…hear that savage serenade down there in the Everglades. Bum-a-diddy-bum bum-a-diddy bum…they play tunes that have no name. All their music sounds the same. Bum-a-diddy Bum-a-diddy  Bum-a-diddy  Bum-a-diddy Bum-a-diddy  Bum-a-diddy bum…” 


    And a moment of truth: “We’re no different, goodness knows, from those dusky belles and beaus…” 


    The hip Hupster sold this novelty song to Earl Carroll for a Broadway extravaganza. Carroll, like Florenz Ziegfeld, was noted for variety shows that featured “scantily clad” dancers whooping it up to hot jazz. Or silly jazz, the kind you’d see in old cartoons where farm animals sway, roll their eyes, and loll their tongues.  


    “Murder at the Vanities” was something new for the duke called Earl. Carroll billed it as a “New Dramatic Mystery Comedy.”   The pimpresario hoped to vary his usual reliance on female flesh and novelty songs bt having an actual story line. Inspector Ellery (not a queen) played by James Rennie periodically stalked around investigating suspects (most of whom paused for a song). One likely criminal was Siebenkase played by Bela Lugosi, who was back on Broadway after filming Tod Browning’s  “Dracula.” Yep, Fred Astaire wasn't the only one who could hum "I'm puttin' on my top hat..." 




    Another suspect: Sonya Sonya, played by Olga Baclanova, who had recently played the evil “Cleopatra” in Tod Browning’s “Freaks.” And yet another suspect: Vila, played by Villi Milli, who may have been the grandmother of one of the guys in Milli Vanilli. Another suspect, Madame Tanqueray was played by Jean Adair, who would turn up as one of the dotty but dangerous Brewster sisters in “Arsenic and Old Lace.” 


    The show opened on September 8th, 1933 at the Majestic Theatre (which really was and IS pretty huge and majestic) and lasted into the following year. The songs were written by a bunch of freelancers.  Lyricist Paul Francis Webster worked with John L. Loeb,  lyricist Ned Washington worked with Victor Young, lyricist Raymond Klages worked with Jesse Greer or Lou Alter,  and our gay mama’s boy from New Jersey created HIS songs all by himself. 


    “Savage Serenade” as unlikely as it may seem, was the bombastic “grand finale” number for the show, performed by the forgotten Una Vilon and a whole lotta chorus girls. Una Vilon, one of many a possible villain in the production, did not appear in any Broadway show before or after “Murder at the Vanities.” The others in the cast were lucky their careers weren’t permanently damaged.


    The New Yorker called the plot “mysterious to the point of being almost unintelligible…even the members of the cast (couldn’t) tell you exactly who killed whom or why.” The critics seemed equally unimpressed with the music, which was why the film version offered seven new songs from the team of Johnston and Coslow, including “Sweet Marihuana” and the enduring “Cocktails for Two.” The result is fondly appreciated. The Leonard Maltin Movie Guide calls it “the smuttiest Hollywood musical ever made…filled with near-nudity and risque dialogue.”  Hotcha! 


       George Olsen's bunch of savage musicians covered "Savage Serenade." It's a shame that no record label preserved Lugosi's singing in this legendary show.

SAVAGE SERENADE - listen or download, no dodgy Iron Curtain company server, NO bratty Paypal TIP JAR requests  

Saturday, June 09, 2018

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACKIE MASON - “DON’T BLAME (IT ON) THE BOSSA NOVA”


    In 1963, Eydie Gorme had a hit with “Blame it On the Bossa Nova,” a cutie from the prolific Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil. She covered the song in Spanish, too. She was a Sephardic Jew who had an early career as a United Nations interpreter.  She often covered songs in foreign languages, but…

    The ANSWER version of the song came from Jackie Mason. This oddity happened because a) Allan Sherman was a big Jewish novelty star singing in a very plain voice, and b) Mason was a hot stand-up in 1963. His career stalled on October 18th, 1964, when he allegedly gave the finger on "The Ed Sullivan Show."  


     The show was running long. Off camera, Ed signaled to Mason that he had to wrap it up. He held up two fingers. Jackie, distracted by this, and annoyed that he had to stop when he was doing so well, made Ed's gesture a part of his act. The crowd roared as Jackie ad-libbed about being given the finger. Jackie gave the two fingers back…and dirty-minded Ed was furious. He thought he only saw a middle finger. It was a “you’ll never work again” moment. It took a long time before Ed grudgingly had Mason back, and Jackie's career recovered. 

    Not dirty like Lenny Bruce, not nearly as political as Mort Sahl, Mason was and is an abrasive wiseguy and a comic truth-teller. A catch-phrase is “Let’s be honest,” and though his act is known for Jew vs Gentile gags, he always fired at multiple targets. He probably ad-libbed “Don’t Blame The Bossa Nova” in a few minutes. The parody version is credited to Mann-Weil, but it’s doubtful those two actually wrote Jackie’s ridiculous lines. 


    Jackie Mason, born Jacov Maza, became a rabbi like his father and three of his brothers. The City College grad had his own congregation, but his comical sermons and humorous way with dealing with every day ironies in life had people suggesting he could be a stand-up comic. 


    In 1955 he began to hone his craft in the Catskill resorts of upstate New York (the “Borscht Belt” as it was called). About five years later he got a major break via The Steve Allen Show. His 1962 album for Verve (who had Sahl, Shelley Berman and Jonathan Winters) was titled “I’m the Greatest Comedian in the World But Nobody Knows It Yet.” 


    Not as “edgy” as Mort Sahl, Mason was edgy enough to get criticism and more. He told some jokes on Frank Sinatra. Why, Jackie asked, did Frank have the “sickness” of needing to go to bed with so many women? Conquest? Yes, it makes more sense than conquering a mountain. But…but…one night he got his face punched and an order: “Lay off the Sinatra jokes.” Was this bit of thuggery directly ordered by Frank, or just some violence from “well-meaning” fans of Sinatra? 


    Mason was invited back on Sullivan’s show twice in 1968 and twice in 1969, the year he made his Broadway debut in “A Teaspoon Every Four Hours,” a mild sitcom-styled play. It was notable for two things. First, it had 97 preview performances (a record that lasted till 2010 when the Spiderman musical needed twice that many to work out the bugs). Second, Jackie’s co-star was the amazingly buxom Lee Meredith (who had a vivid scene in “The Producers” as Bialystock’s secretary). Jackie came out and did some stand-up after the curtain,  to help put the audience in a better mood as they left the theater. Word of mouth still wasn’t too positive, critics were cranky, and the show closed after one official performance.


    Jackie’s attempt at a film career failed as well, although the indie “The Stoolie” (1974) was actually a pretty good movie. Two years later, director John Avildsen scored with another indie movie about an underdog loser, “Rocky.”  Fast forward about 15 tough years, and stand-up was a hot topic, with Richard Pryor, Robin Williams and others doing one-man shows. To the surprise of many, Jackie took his to Broadway and became bigger than he ever was. He would create several sequel shows over the next ten years; fans could buy a 2 CD-R set of each one in the lobby.


    Mason has turned from Democrat to Republican, and the 21st century hasn't been kind to him or his peers. Mort Sahl hasn't been welcomed as a talk show guest since David Letterman had him on...once. Mort streams shows from a tiny theater in Mill Valley, and Jackie tried reaching fans via YouTube. He still performs in Florida and in some clubs in New York and New Jersey.


      A book on Mort Sahl was ridiculously titled “Last Comic Standing.” While Mort is older than Jackie Mason and Bob Newhart, he isn't really still standing. He hobbles out holding a cane, and quickly sits to do an hour of anecdotes. Mason IS still standing when he takes the stage, and yes, still getting big laughs. 

    Happy Birthday, Jackie.   
 

DON'T BLAME THE BOSSA NOVA - Jackie Mason Instant Download or Listen on Line...no creepy visit to a "buy a premium account, see creepy ads, suffer a slow download" site, no Zinfart passwords, no Paypal tip jar request

RAY DAVIES DOES PAGANINI


    You know Ray Davies? BOTH of them? 

    For some reason, the idiotic music world allows more than one person to use a famous name. There are two or three singers named “Bobby Cole” and a pair of “Andy Pratt”s and it can be confusing and annoying when a fan accidentally buys something that just ain’t the right person.


        Of course some dunces get confused even if the spelling is DIFFERENT. I recall a pudgy jerk at a record show avidly grabbing up a bunch of  Jean Shepard singles. The happy record dealer took the $20 bill and complimented the geek: “You’re a big fan of good country music!” The geek was shocked. He wanted his money back! HE thought he was buying Jean Shepherd, the cult radio host/comedian. You mean “If Teardrops Were Silver,” “Seven Lonely Days,” “Poor Sweet Baby” and “I’ll Do Anything it Takes to Stay With You” aren’t comedy routines??? 


    In the film world, similar names aren’t allowed. That’s why an actor named James Stewart changed his name to Stewart Granger. There already was a James Stewart, and even though it was the man’s real name, too bad. Either use a middle initial or name, or something else entirely.  


    I wonder how often some Kinks fan was momentarily excited, and then irritated, to discover a “Ray Davies” item he had never heard of was…NOT the REAL Ray Davies. Band leader Ray Davies often released albums under the name “The Ray Davies Orchestra,” but there’s been some confusion. 


    Ray Davies did not usually stick his mug on the cover of his albums, so it was possible for a drunk Kinks fan (so many of those) to throw down a fiver and then throw up. One of the few albums with Ray on the cover is pictured above, though it's NOT the same album as the download below. For any Kinks fan wondering what “Ray Davies” the band leader is like, this is your chance.


    He’s one of those “easy listening” guys, similar to James Last and Mantovani, that appeal to cheese-eared Europeans who hear “Moon River,” and start to wet their adult diapers. I do understand that there are people out there who drink Coca Cola like it’s vintage wine, and insist Cotswold is not nearly as good as Cheez Whiz. But…”easy listening?” WHAT the FUCK is so difficult about LISTENING? You sit your big fat body in a chair, that’s all. Is that HARD?


    In the old days, the term was synonymous with “relaxing” or “mellow” Muzak. You heard it in elevators and the dentist’s office…anywhere that required an aural tranquilizer for mind control. People actually bought Melachrino and Liberace and the rest, because some forlorn Willy Loman wanted to hear something soothing and numbing, after a hard day of work…and to drown out the sound of wifey’s telephone calls, the kids chattering, and the washing machine vibrating. I get it. But it gets ridiculous when this stuff is rapturously collected as if it’s worth anything. It’s a bit much to find people sobbing as they give away “soft jazz” from Klemmer or Klugh, or the mindlessly cheerful crap from Claude Bolling, or the squishy sludge from Windham Hill.  As Woody Allen once noted, “I don’t like to be MELLOW, because then I’ll RIPEN AND ROT.” 


    A big thing with senile Eurotrash morons is for their “easy listening” music to have a BEAT to it, so they can tap their canes against the linoleum. You’ve seen the embarrassing spectacle of old people the leaden feet “dancing” on a cruise to nowhere? You can bet that if it isn’t to a Les Elgart “Hooked on Swing” or James Last album, it’s to something ripe from the Ray Davies Orchestra.  


    Below, an example of making classical music “easy listening” for some, but, oddly enough, uneasy listening for anyone who knows the difference between paintings and wallpaper, copyright and theft, Italian food and Olive Garden, Croatia and America, Hitler and Roosevelt or shit and shinola.  


    Ray Davies’ “easy listening” version of Paganini’s Caprice #24 does NOT use violins, even though Paganini wrote for his instrument and was a virtuoso. The melody is given to the brass section. How…snazzy! 


Ray Davies - instant download or listen on line. No arrogant "Gimme Paypal Tips or I stop giving you goodies" shit, no ego passwords, no dodgy malware from Putin-smelling servers

THE GOLDEN VOICE OF WONG SHIAU CHUEN



    Who would be the sweet-voiced equivalent to Ms. Chuen? Connie Francis, maybe? Helen Shapiro perhaps? Actually, Wong has her own adorable timbre.

    I found a bunch of Chuen’s records in Chinatown years ago. As I often do, I bought the albums for the cover, for the gamble, and because they were unusual. She had a sweet face, so very likely, a sweet voice. Also, to quote the Knight who says Ni, they were “not too expensive.” The idea of supporting record stores, thrift shops and gift emporiums seemed like a good idea, too. Who wants to just stay home in a windmill downloading stolen music like some gaseous cloud of coagulated dirt?

    Real fans of music don't point to 10 4TB drives full of shit they'll never hear or appreciate, just brag about OWNING. They have inquiring minds. They want to experience new styles of music. They don't just go around the Net crying, "Anybody got every James Barclay Harvest, I'm too cheap to buy any" or "Gosh, I need another 50 Neil Young bootlegs to go with the 50 I still haven't bothered to hear." At least here, on this blog, we have real music fans who will download and concentrate on a sample song, and then make a decision on whether it's worth buying. None of that "if you like it buy it" shit.

    When I BOUGHT a bunch of Chuen albums I didn't know anything about her. I still don’t know much. I know she’s also known as Huang Xiao Jun, and her records seem to be mainly pressed in Malaysia, probably late 60’s and early 70’s. She released over a dozen of them, each with the same “Golden Voice” title and just a different number. Your download is from Volume 12. 

    Did you know that when the “People’s Republic of China” was created in 1949, Mao and his pals considered pop music no better than pornography? It was effectively outlawed. No “papa ooo mow mow” for Mao! And nothing from Asian artists no matter how sweetly they sang. “Minyue” national patriotic music was what the people were supposed to hear.

    “Mandopop” and “Cantopop” (representing the popular Mandarin and Cantonese languages) was largely sold out of Taiwan, Singapore and Malaysia. All my Wong Shiau Chuen records seem to have been made in Malaysia. Asian language pop music in the 60’s and most of the 70’s was not made in China, where “The China Record Corporation” dominated the vinyl market and dictated who would get to be on the label.

    Deng Xiaoping allowed for a change in the backward policy of China in 1978, and imports from Hong Kong were allowed into the country. I’m not sure at what stage of Chuen’s career this may have been, or how much longer she continued singing. Her backing group was The Stylers, who recorded dozens and dozens of albums, both their own instrumentals, and in support of singers including Rita Chao, Kok Peng Keen, Sakura Teng, Lena Lim and Jenny Tseng. John Teo and Randy Lee were the leaders in the quintet, with other members being replaced now and then.

    Below, a very evocative minor key ballad. I have no idea what the title is, as the label and the back cover don’t even use Roman characters or phonetics. It’s all symbols. I simply call it…”Track Two.” 

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ILL-USTRATED SONGS #46 CURLY CHALKER! (Can't Buy Me Love)


    In the world of country music, a guy named “Curly” was more likely to actually have curly, wavy hair than be bald. That was the deal for “Curly” Putman, songwriter of “Green Green Grass of Home,” and of steel guitar session man Harold Chalker (October 22, 1931 – April 30, 1998).

    Both guys had trouble getting record deals; they were better known for what they could do behind the scenes. There were so many singers around, Curly Putman’s fine but not too distinctive stylings failed to find an audience. As for Chalker, was there really a big market for entire pedal steel albums? Evidently not.  Two or three albums on either would take a long time to find, especially now that so few record stores are left standing. 


    In the 50’s and 60’s, Chalker played in a number of bands, and had a steady gig in Las Vegas with Hank Penny’s group. For a while, he had a reputation for being erratic. Hank Thompson famously recalled that Curly would sometimes miss a note, and give out with a shout of ‘SHIT!” Hank said that Curly might “bear down and play the best you ever saw” for an important gig, but on some routine night on the road, “hell, every other song he’d mess it up.” 


        Curly moved to Nashville for lucrative session work (back when recording studios were prospering and there was no such thing as Pro Tools).  His first solo album was “Big Hits on Big Steel” for Columbia in 1966. It wasn’t a big hit, but he remained in high demand for a variety of artists from rockabilly types (Bill Haley), to country stars (Ray Price, Willie Nelson) to even mainstream performers (he’s on “The Boxer” by Paul Simon). He was in the band that backed all the performers on “Hee Haw,” a show that ran on network TV and in syndication for 18 years. 


    Curly did do a pedal steel cover of Paul Simon’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” but let’s go with something mainstream but a little more upbeat for your download sample:
CAN'T BUY ME LOVE - no stupid egocentric PASSWORDS, no obnoxious demand for Paypal donations, instant download or listen online from a non-Putin company