Wouldn't it be nice to think that Max Crook has become a "Twistin' Ghost?"
If you don't know the song, listen on line or download via the link below. "The Twisin' Ghost" was not a hit in America, but the amiable, roller-rinky harmless dance instrumental managed to amuse the Canadians and do an ectoplasmic ooze into the Top 20.
The man with the splendid name, which should be immortalized as a cartoon villain, was born Maxfield Doyle Crook (November 2, 1936 - July 1, 2020. His father was a doctor. His mother had a degree in music and was a fine pianist, but young Max was first taught the accordion. He graduated to piano, but back then, teachers were strict about their students learning “good music” only. He recalled a sign in the practice room of the university he attended: “'The playing of popular music will not be tolerated on these instruments."
You know what crooked direction he took to the max. In 1959 he was the leader of “The White Bucks,” a group named for its shoes. They managed to get a single released on the Dot label. Two years later, now a member of Del Shannon's band, he perfected his "Musitron" “synth” keyboard and its eerie sound helped make “Runaway” a hit.
Reversing the old pop song lyric about the joys of going “from major to minor,” Max struck up a chord change that inspired Del to work on a melody for it. The familiar story that Del told a thousand times: “We were on stage, and Max hit an A minor and a G and I said, ‘Max, play that again, it’s a great change.’ That night, I went back to the club and I told Max to play an instrumental on his Musitron for the middle part, and when he played that solo, we had ‘Runaway.’ ”
Max recalled, “It was unorthodox, a ‘hook’ song. You’ve got the chord progressions, the falsetto, the Musitron...that bridge actually came to me in less than five minutes, just something to fit in there. It all seemed to fit together…” Crook took the original tape around to local radio stations with no luck. One of his friends brought it to Big Top Records “and they listened to it and said well, it’s very strange, it’s very different, it’s got a lot of gimmicks…” They passed, but were interested in what Del and his band might do next. They didn’t like their next demo and were persuaded to give “Runaway” a shot.
Although “Runaway” went gold, and Shannon and his band were no longer having to play cover versions of “It’s Only Make Believe” (Conway Twitty) and “Rock Around the Clock” (Bill Haley) Max had other ideas. Although today's music pirates insist "the music should be free, make your money touring," that lifestyle was not for Mr. Crook:
“The loneliest thing in the world is to be a traveling star. When we played gigs in New York, you couldn’t leave the room or you’d be swamped with people.” Missing home and family was another problem, as was trying to sleep in strange rooms at night, and missing the simple pleasures of making breakfast or taking a familiar walk around the neighborhood. Besides, Max had gotten a lot of people interested in "synth" music thanks to that catchy bridge in "Runaway." Maybe....
Now calling himself “Maximillian,” he offered radio stations such instrumental novelties as “The Snake” and, yes, “The Twistin’ Ghost” which tried to haunt the airwaves at the same time as Joe Meek's "Telstar." By the late 60’s, Max was involved in the moog scene, and with a musical partner performed their electronic music as “The Sounds of Tomorrow.” When this didn’t do much for his bank account, and tiring of living in Michigan where the winters were cold and the summers upset his allergies Max looked West.
Interested in tinkering with all kinds of electronic devices, not just musical ones, Crook moved his family to California where he installed burglar alarms for a living. He never quite left the music business. He worked on movie scores and dabbled in gospel via an album called “Good News." This obscurity (no, even I don't have it) featured such gems as “Don’t Kiss the Devil” and “Jesus Still Makes Housecalls.” Another unusual album: “Standing Pat,” focused on offering marital advice.
Max worked with Del Shannon now and then. Seeking steady work with a pension, Max eventually became a fireman in Ventura County, and rose to the rank of Captain. “Under Captain Crook” was a light-hearted indie album produced by Max and his firefighter friends. Further demonstrating his sense of humor, Max wrote “Happy Haven Rest Home,” which won the attention of Dr. Demento.
As happens with too many old time performers, the royalties on the old tunes diminished thanks to piracy and the "new paradigm." That would be cheap-ass streaming where all the money goes to THE SUITS (at Spotify, Pandora and YouTube) while creative accounting and penurious percentages kept the money away from the people who actually created the music. Max would often go out to small-time fairs and music conventions to demonstrate is musitron and play for a sleepy audience of corndog-eating clods and the kind of slack-jawed apathetic nitwits who will mosey to any event that brightens their dull lives as long as it's free.
Here's Max in front of crickets and hayseeds in some country-fair pasture with private homes in the distance. This doesn't look like YOUR idea of a good time, does it?
There's not a lot of "Maximillian" recordings out there, since the ones he made didn't make a million, or come anywhere close. There's still a cult for them, and of course, nobody has ever reproduced a riff like Crook's in "Runaway," and even with today's technology, nobody can duplicate that musitron sound and make it work like he did.
Max lives! Here's the amiable instrumental "The Twistin' Ghost" via mega:
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