CREEPY BACHARACH #1: “TWO HOUR HONEYMOON” - Paul Hampton

Why the long face, Burt? Is it because you recognize that you look a bit like Paul Hampton and Jeffrey Epstein? 

Epstein died before he could cover some Burt tunes, like "Do You Know a 3-Way in San Jose," "What the world needs now is love...with 14 year-olds," or maybe "Always Pubic Hair to Remind Me." 

Meanwhile, Paul Hampton can't live down the astonishing "Two Hour Honeymoon," which was a pretty obvious attempt to tap into the "Teen Angel" market of disaster tunes. In fact, it arrived (or rather, crashed) in 1960, well before that look-out, look-out masterpiece, "Leader of the Pack." So give credit for the first song to have skidding sound effects. 

In all fairness, Burt is only responsible for the music. The perp behind the sicko lyrics is the performer himself, Paul Hampton. Hampton at the time was not only involved in the music world, he was an actor, notably in "Senior Prom," (which co-starred comic James Komack and had a brief role for Moe of the 3 Stooges). 

As you see, or squint, the single was "arranged and conducted by Burt F. Bacharach." He was responsible for adding cricket noises to denote the desolate area in which the crash occurred.
He chose the slimy noir sax in the background, one that recalls the Mike Hammer theme song “Harlem Nocturne." This was the era when cynical narrators (including Lee Marvin on "M Squad") described life's miseries while cool jazz played in the background.

People who say “that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard, bwaa  haaa haa,” are generally dimwits or limp-wrists. If something is terrible, it’s terrible. That’s all. There’s nothing funny about it. What makes songs like “Tell Laura I Love Her” or “Dead Man’s Curve” fun is that they are not only sincere in their dementia, but turn tragedy into art. Somehow.

The problem with Paul Hampton is that his choked-up sniveling is so unpleasant one doesn't feel sorry for him at all. Within a minute, you wish he'd hurry up and drop dead. Usually, you like to savor the agony (as in the gore connoisseur favorite “DOA” by Bloodrock). At least, if the singer is martyrd and woebegone, like Mark Dinning on "Teen Angel," you feel for him even if you have trouble hiding an amused grin. 

Hampton is over-acting as he lies in the wreckage, grumbling that the timing is so lousy and it's his honeymoon, and that his surviving wife should get on with her life. Imagine if the narrator was a hard-luck country star like Jim Reeves or even Jimmy Dean? How about if it was Don Ameche as John Bickerson?


Burt is still with us at 91, and so is Hampton, at 82.  His schizoid career includes singing (not narrating) the peppy theme song for “My Mother the Car,” and for writing the classic “Sea of Heartbreak,” which has had many cover versions, including the pairing of Rosanne Cash and Bruce Springsteen. Hampton's last album was back in 1974 for Ray Stevens’ bathos-loaded Barnaby Records label, and his last film appearances were in 1992 and 1993 (“Waxwork II” and “The Thing Called Love”).  

You'll not be laughing about it being "one of the worst things" you've heard but such a knee-slapper. It IS an experience, though. You might even want to play it a second time, or send this link to some friends, just to shake 'em up. After that, the honeymoon's over. 

TWO HOUR HONEYMOON - instant download or listen online, no passwords or porn ads

Ronnie Deauville - he would've been 94 on August 28th

It's a sad story: he had a golden voice. Then he needed an iron lung. Wheelchair-bound, he was promoted by everyone from Jerry Lewis to Ralph Edwards, but the rigors of touring were too much. He remained a beloved member of his family, one who didn't dwell on his misfortunes. And for some discerning record collectors, his music is still beautiful and enduring, right up there with guys who had a more natural career arc, such as Vic Damone. 

The words "crooner" and "gutsy" rarely cross, but they do in the case of star-crossed Ronnie Deauville. Ronnie's "Smoke Dreams" album has one of the most iconic images in the world of "lounge erotic" album covers. Not long after its release, Deauville actually standing and singing was a dream, not reality.

He was born Henry Deauville (August 28, 1925). His mother Marie was an actress and his sister Sheryl also tried show biz (notably playing a hooker role in "Irma La Douce"). Ronnie became the star of the family, the big band singer for orchestras led by Glenn Gray, Tex Beneke and ultimately Ray Anthony. “Sentimental Me” was a hit in 1950 and “Be My Love” made the charts in 1951. The Ray Anthony "Capitol Collectors Series" CD features Ronnie on "Nevertheless," "Can Anyone Explain," and "Autumn Leaves."

Following all those singles, it was time to go long-play. 1956 was the year "Smoke Dreams" came out. But it was also the year that his dreams went up in smoke. In September of 1956 a car veered into his path, and the impact threw him out of his vehicle and into the street. How could it get worse? While recuperating in the hospital, he was diagnosed with polio. He spent a year in an iron lung.

Paralyzed from the neck down, he fought back, and miraculously regained enough breath control to sing again. For TV appearances, an ordinary chair was substituted for his wheelchair, as in an artfully done TV rendition of "Aloha 'oe," where romantic Ronnie is viewed in a sailor cap, seemingly in a cabin on board a boat, sitting at the port hole, dreaming of Hawaiian dancers (double-exposed as nostalgic visions in his mind). Blogger "Dr. Chilled Air" uploaded this to YouTube:

Jerry Lewis helped Ronnie get attention from disc jockeys. Deauville's record label sent out a special single, with Ronnie singing a song, and Jerry on the flip side, talking about this great talent: "December 27th on my TV show Ronnie is going to make his first major singing appearance on television since he was stricken with clinical polio. All the boys at this station are going to cooperate with over 3,000 radio stations throughout the country when, for the first time in the history of radio, on December 28th, and throughout the day, they will play Ronnie's new Era recording. We're doing this as a special tribute to a courageous guy and a wonderful singer..."

On November 6, 1957 Ralph Edwards told his story on "This Is Your Life." Here's the opening scene. Please watch. It's something you won't forget: 

Ronnie's 1959 album for Imperial featured a big close-up of the handsome star on the cover. It would be his last album. "Romance with Ronnie" offered such songs as "Tormented," "Blame Your Eyes," and "Dream Girl." On his smooth cover of "Unchained Melody," he was able to hit the challenging high notes with ease. 

Ronnie did some song-dubbing for movie stars and eventually retired to Florida with his wife and children. He passed away from cancer on Christmas Eve, 1990. His sister has a Facebook page for him, and he stays in the hearts of hundreds upon hundreds who never had a chance to see him perform, or to meet him, but are touched deeply by the sound of his voice. 

Ronnie Deauville sings the classic "LAURA" - instant download, or listen on line.

JERRY YESTER: ASHES HAVE TURNED and the Lovin' Spoonful offender has been sentenced

"He must be high on something" someone said
Though it never made The New York Times
In The Daily News, the caption read
"Save the life of my child!" 

Well...it didn't make the Daily News either. Or Rolling Stone. But it was big news on the website for the local Harrison, Arkansas newspaper. That's where Jerry was downloading, and apparently uploading, the child porn.

"Save the life of my child." Well, that's all right mama, but you could do it yourself by NOT taking the pictures and putting them on the Net. Right? Mama, if you didn't have a litter of puppies and not be able to keep track of them, maybe your 12 or 14 year-old would not have been viewed by Mr. Yester. But let's only blame Jerry: 

Not being as rich and famous as Pete from The Who, Jerry couldn’t get away with “oh, it was research.” '

The question, since he was busted over a year ago (check his name on this blog for that story) was how long it would take for the wheel of justice to run him over. While he waited, banned from playing sappyp music with Lovin’ Spoonful at county fairs, he turned up in a few local venues including a hotel. Here's Jerry along with Catherine Reed, performing in Eureka Springs, Arkansas back on November 15, 2018:  

Catherine starts off singing Paul Simon ("Kathy's Song" and "Slip Slidin' Away"), the latter starting off with some chicken impressions and laughs. Don't expect a Judy Henske here, just a smooth-voiced, affable folkie. 

There's slight irony when Jerry Yester is given a microphone for a duet on a song by Simon and Garfunkel's beloved Everly Brothers: "Bye Bye Love, Bye Bye Happiness. Hello Loneliness. I think I'm gonna cry." 

Last month, a judge sent 74 year-old Jerry away for two years. Compare that with a hedge fund weasel named Epstein (now deceased) who also got busted in the Deep South, but had enough money to plea get away with ONE count of “soliciting an underage prostitute.” He got 13 months. He didn’t download, he fucked. Not only did he get a lighter sentence than Jerry Yester, he spent most of each day OUT of his cell, playing unsupervised games. 

Downloading underage porn IS a serious crime. It’s not victimless. It’s not just pictures. Those pictures came from somewhere, and some criminal types took them and profited from them. Some deranged parents may have been involved, too, pocketing the money for meth. Some idiots say "why spoil our fun, it's just pictures," but these aren't snapshots from a nudist magazine (ps, eBay bans nudist magazies due to pedophile interest). The young people in these images, certainly ones that aren’t mere poses, run the risk of being both emotionally and physically damaged. But let’s take a look at THIS: 

Here’s a maniac who got NO jail time for what amounts to obscene SCAT behavior. You feed your kids shit? Really? By the time the cops found out (they were busy checking on Internet porn downloaders?) the two kids were gaunt, emaciated, and half the weight of normal children their age. NO jail time for her; she just has to stay away from those kids now. Did she sashay out of court with a shit-eating grin?    

What a two-year sentence for Jerry Yester accomplishes, I’m not sure. That he’ll spend a few years risking getting beaten up for being a pedo? Maybe he's an "example" and some dirty old men will be scared about downloading. It would be nice to think so, but people like this have addict-personalities and can't stay away. Some might only do something worse, like pull an Aqualung and hang around a playground.

Yester’s career is already ruined, and when you’re kicked out of a group that doesn’t have John Sebastian and has few original members, and plays shit like “What a Day for a Day Dream,” you’ve sunk very, very low. He’s probably close to bankruptcy, considering how little royalties artists get thanks to download piracy and the official robbery from low-paying pricks like Spotify and YouTube. 

No, I have never met Jerry Yester. Judy Henske and Craig Doerge, yes. While social (disease) media would tell you that Yester's fame is drifting into Lovin' Spoonful, and years later, joining up with the desperate remnants to play nostalgia dates, Jerry's real accomplishments are in songwriting, and in the two albums he made with Judy: "Farewell Aldebaran" and "Rosebud" (the latter being the name of the group they formed, which included Craig Doerge, who would replace Jerry as Judy's husband. No hard feelings...a few years ago, Judy and Jerry sang together to promote the re-issue of "Farewell Aldebaran.").

Below, pre-dating Jerry and Judy's folk-psych return to albums (via Frank Zappa's Straight label), here's a solo single from Jerry on ABC-Dunhill. "Ashes Have Turned" is credited to Judy Henske Yester - Jerry Yester,. (The flip side is not something they wrote). If you listen to it a few times it might just become catchy. You might even think, “Hmm, they could’ve resurrected this and stuck it on the "Rosebud" album, as its lush yet slightly sour harmonies aren't too different from “Le Soleil” and a few other tracks. 

Concluding the Paul Simon theme that has run through this entry, think about this line of his: "I wasn't such a Johnny Ace fan but I felt bad just the same." You don't have to be a Jerry Yester fan to feel bad about how twisted things can get when there's a strange, compelling and forbidden psychological need. 

ASHES HAVE TURNED - Jerry Yester, lyrics by Judy Henske - download, listen on line, no passwords, no sleazy foreign download service, no porn ads or malware

There’s Old Rick Wakeman and there’s “Young No More” HANK JONES - hear some HANK

Recently, Rick Wakeman performed in concert. Shabby of hair, stubbled of face, sporting a paunch, but still wearing a CAPE and acting like this was the dawning of the Age of Pretentiousness, he dazzled the gawking crowd. Ooo, watta Keyboard Hero! 

What denotes a keyboard hero? Same thing that defines a guitar hero: the ability to play FAST. And wowie zowie, look at all that gear! Dr. Frankenstein in his lab didn't have such cool stuff.

The big problem with keyboard heroes is that they're stuck at the keyboard. Unless you're on the right side of the stage (usually the left side) you can't see their fingers. Maybe you can if you're up in the balcony peeping down, or you're one of that cheering stadium throng of 50,000 who all came to watch TV on a giant screen, because from where you are, the guy on stage is barely a fly speck. 

Interesting that in the world of progrock, there are only two keyboard heroes, really: Rick Wakeman and the late Keith Emerson. They played FAST, LOUD and used synths. Classical and jazz pianists (and even Randy Newman, Elton John and Billy Joel) use an acoustic piano, so they play with nuance and emotion. That's why there are more PIANIST heroes in the music world than progrock synth stars.

After viewing Capeman, and learning he's still alive, and still has devoted fans,  I happened to put the headphones on, and play some miscellaneous jazz. Usually about an hour is more than enough of a fix. Like country, and even classical, jazz can get pretty annoying after too long. That's unlike the music of ELP or YES, which gets annoying after five minutes. 

One piece really sauced my cauliflowers (like the jive talk? I stole that phrase off liner notes on a Spike Jones record). It was "Young No More" by the old and now dead Hank Jones. And it reminded me of what a REAL keyboard hero can do on a Steinway. While synth albums get old for most people, acoustic piano albums remain fresh for a much wider audience. Put it this way, ELP and YES are in the bargain bin. Hank Jones, not so much.

Hank Jones. He might be an obscure name to the average music fan who at least knows about Oscar Peterson, Errol Garner, Fats Waller and Art Tatum. But...

....Hey, you know who was at the piano when Marilyn Monroe sang her ridiculously sultry “Happy Birthday Mr. President” to her fuck-buddy JFK? It was Hank Jones! 


Hank died back on May 16, 2010. He was "Young No More" when people began appreciating him and giving him honors: 1989’s Jazz Masters award from The National Endowment for the Arts (hope he was endowed with a check), 2003’s “Living Legend” award from ASCAP (who care about piracy and royalty payments SO much), and 2008’s “National Medal of Arts.”


Hank’s early career was as a session man and accompanist. He was Ella Fitzgerald’s pianist in the late 40’s and early 50’s, and was support on recordings by Charlie Parker, Wes Montgomery, Nancy Wilson and Cannonball Adderley. He was hired by Savoy to sit on most of the sessions they booked for well known soloists, and his day job for 15 years was working at CBS where he was often called in to back a singer on “The Ed Sullivan Show.” He toured the world doing jazz festivals, and was well liked and respected by his peers, sitting in on dozens and dozens of all-star recording sessions. And yes, he put out some solo albums as well for hipsters in the know. 

IF I’M BEING HONEST, as they say in the U.K., I found “Young No More” pleasant on first listen, but it grabbed me when, instead of background music, I happened to just lie back, close my eyes, and really listen, with headphones. Sometimes with pianists, this IS the way to really appreciate the nuances of tempo, phrasing, and shades of volume. In both jazz and classical, it’s not just about dexterity, but when a piece requires it, whether it’s Chopin, Bach, or “Young No More” (by Frank Metis) it creates a whole different awe. 

“Young No More” starts out with a spooky-cool lope, the bass line recalling Vic Mizzy’s “Night Walker,”  or something out of Vince Guaraldi’s “Charlie Brown” smooth bag of tasty tricks. What’s this? Sounds like Snoopy stalking the Red Baron or something. But after the jeepers creepers, a different gear kicks in, and, as they say, the song begins to swing all over the keys. I mean, SWING. Dance, pirouette, slip, slide, ravel with patterns that seem spontaneous but have mathematical precision. In rock, bassists are handed a solo; here, the bassist works with the pianist, the two instruments like loves, till a drum break separates them, and the song eases back into what someone crude might call a post-coital rest. We often take this for granted when it’s playing in the background at a restaurant. But the way this finger-spider weaves complexity without sacrificing melody is a wonder of nature. And then, as killer-easy as this piece turned into virtuosity, it slid back to the original cool; over and out. 

Not a surprise that “Note for Note,” a documentary on how Steinway makes a concert grand piano, included Hank among the pianists talking tech. The greats are not only technically proficient, and use the finest instruments, they take a supernatural joy and an almost religious devotion to making music that captures a full range of emotion. It’s a rare thing, whether in rock, pop, country, classical or jazz.

So, on July 29, nice to know old Wakeman is still around playing for geezers who still love him, and would even want to waddle onto a cruise ship to see him and pester him for a selfie, and a birthday remembrance to Hank Jones, who would be 101 if he lived to his birthday, July 31. 

Try it with headphones: YOUNG NO MORE - Hank Jones - no dodgy foreign website, no spyware, no porn ads. Listen online or download.

DONALD SWANN sings SYDNEY CARTER: “The Devil Wore a Crucifix”

“Songs of Faith and Doubt” is an odd,  daring title for an album. Religious songwriters are supposed to affirm, with grand conviction, their trust in The Lord. Whether Jesus or Moses or Mohamed, the message is supposed to be clear: How Great Thou Art. Everybody, follow! What's to doubt? Oh ye of faith AND a dash of the realist, who knows this planet is much more than a few thousand years old, and that everything from tiny mites to huge dinosaurs were here before anybody claimed to be God's earthly representative.

Sydney Carter is best known for his songs of faith, not the ones of doubt. His most famous is “Lord of the Dance.” Here in Illville, he’s better known  dark, challenging and satirical songs, which sometimes dare to reflect even an ardent believer's moments of insecurity bordering on atheism. 

In his autobiography, Donald Swann declared he was a conscientious objector during World War 2 because he felt Christ would not possibly condone or participate in war. (Then who started it and why didn't he come down to Earth and stop it?) Carter was also a pacifist, and spent his war years in the Friends’ Ambulance Service, rather than on a battle field. It's possible the two met while on duty in Greece. The 1940 picture below shows, on the right, Carter among his Quaker friends, holding a skull…hopefully not of a soldier who didn’t get treatment in time. 

In the mid 50's, the team of Carter and Swann produced a failed musical called “Lucy and the Hunter.” In his book Swann lamented, “I am sure I have never written anything so tuneful or melodic…”

After teaming with Michael Flanders, and between Broadway dates for “At the Drop of Hat” and “Another Hat,” Swann recorded a 1964 E.P. of Sydney Carter's originals. Carter was far from anonymous at the time. His dark lullabye, “The Crow on the Cradle” appeared on a 1962 Judy Collins album. "Crow" offers not just the creepy symbolism of an ominous black bird observing an innocent child, but a talking bird who, unlike Poe’s raven, is pretty damn specific. If the child is a boy, the crow croaks, “he’ll carry a gun.” If it’s a girl, there will be “a bomber above her wherever she goes.” The crow knows the ending: “give you a coffin and dig you a grave. Hushabye little one…” 

In 1962 Sydney Carter teamed with Sheila Hancock for an album called “Putting Out the Dustbin.” They had a mild hit with the novelty tune “Last Cigarette.” 

Those expecting comedy from Swann, whose Stan Laurel-esque laugh greeted many a Flanders ad-lib, had to be surprised by the E.P. It explored musical territory quite alien to him. As he acknowledged in his liner notes, folk songs are better suited to guitar not piano. His voice is hardly Dylan or Van Ronk, and also not exactly suited to protest or irony. He does attack the songs with more heart and style than Carter himself, whose voice was more hearty than heartfelt or haunting. 

The Devil wore a Crucifix 
"The Christians they are right" 
The Devil said "so let us burn 
A heretic tonight". 

A lily or a swastika,
A shamrock or a star
The devil he can wear them all,
No matter what they are.

In red or blue or khaki 
In green or black and tan 
The Devil is a patriot 
A proper party man.

Whenever there's a lynching 
The Devil will be there.
A witch or an apostle, 
The Devil doesn't care. 

He'll beat a drum in China
He'll beat it in the west 
He'll beat a drum for anyone 
"Holy war is best". 

The Devil isn't down in hell 
Or riding in the sky 
“The Devil's dead” I’ve heard it said 
They're telling you a lie! 

Circa 1965, Carter was briefly signed to Elektra, and recorded his aleady-popular “Lord of the Dance” with backing from Martin Carthy and the Mike Sammes Singers. He would remain best known for this song (adapted from the American Shaker classic   “Tis The Gift To Be Simple” (aka Simple Gifts”) written in 1848 by Elder Joseph Brackett.) 

Carter was amused and surprised that it became such a hit: “"I did not think the churches would like it at all. I thought many people would find it pretty far flown, probably heretical and anyway dubiously Christian. But in fact people did sing it and, unknown to me, it touched a chord. Anyway it's the sort of Christianity I believe in."

People like comfy tunes of faith more than protest songs or Realist ballads, so "Lord of the Dance" has been covered by everyone from God-awful YouTube singers to ebullient church choirs.  One of Carter’s sporadic appearances on vinyl in the 70’s came via an album with “And Now It Is So Early,” in which he performed with the folk duo Bob and Carole Pegg. Phil Ochs fans might know their name, as they were one of the few to cover “The Scorpion Departs But Never Returns.”

Click here for The Devil Wore a Crucifix - no Paypal donation button, no egocentric password encoding, no dodgy Russian cloud server and no links to porn sites or malware

Reflection sings Sydney Carter: “Standing By The Window”

Thank God, or somebody, or nobody at all, Christmas, though less than a month in the past, is now pretty much forgotten. 

One can still get a shiver thinking about all the rotten novelty songs blasted at us, including the irritating solo works by Lennon and McCartney (“Happy Xmas War Is Over” and “Wonderful Christmastime”). There were tedious novelties (“Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer") and billiously cheerful pesterings like “Sleigh Ride” and "We Wish You A Merry Christmas." It was overkill on "Holly Jolly" Burl Ives, the idiotic "Feliz Navidad," and new pains in the ear like self-parodist William Shatner reciting "Winder Wonderland."

Nasty alternative songs have been few.  Stan Freberg, anyone? No. Not at all. You'll hear The Pogues once too often (and twice is too often). Somehow gutter trash from Ireland quarreling in a drunk tank in New York City amuses people. This isn't even an anti-Christmas song, since people LOVE it so much. It's more like Brecht & Weill reeking of corned beef and potatoes.

It would be nice if some alternative radio station or some Spotify playlist slipped in “Standing By The Window,” recorded by Reflection back in 1968. The album is named after the cunning and punning Carter poem, “The Present Tense,” which reflected on our age of anxiety. Spoken with eerie sound effects, it opens the album, which segues into "Standing By the Window."
The male and female leads of Reflection (the name of the group and also their record label!) do a fine folk-rock job mixing desultory verse and haunting chorus. It goes exactly like this, and you can strum along to a simple A minor and G, with a dash of D minor and E: 

No use knocking at the window, there is nothing here for you, sir,
All the rooms are let already, there is nothing left for you, sir. 

Chorus:
Standing in the rain, knocking on the window, knocking on the window on a Christmas day
There he goes again, knocking on the window, knocking on the window in the same old way

No use knocking at the window,  some are lucky, some are not, sir,
We are Christian men and women,  and we're keeping what we've got, sir.
No, we haven't got a cradle,  no, we haven't got a stable,
We are Christian men and women,   always willing, never able.
Christ, the Lord, has gone to heaven,  one day he'll be coming back, sir,
In our house he will be welcome,  but we hope he won't be black, sir.
Wishing you a merry Christmas, we will all go back to bed, sir,
Till you woke us with your knocking, we were sleeping like the dead, sir. 


 Reflection was Sue McHaffie, Mo Brown, Richard Spence, Jonathan Jones, Michael Campbell and Stuart Yeates on vocals. The backing musicians included James Etheridge, Michael Campbell, Colin Wright, Nik Knight and Lionel Browne. The eclectic group also tossed in some oboe (Lesley Bateson), flute (Marion Banks), Cello (Stuart Yeates), and even a celeste (from lead vocalist Sue McHaffie). Despite the somewhat bitter lyrics here, Reflection was a religious record label, and Sue McHaffie appears on two other Reflection releases, “A Folk Passion” (which includes the songs “Come to the Cross” and “Jesus the King”) and “Nativity” which includes “Sing High with the Holy” and “To Jesus On his Birthday.” These were issued in 1971 and 1972.  

The group’s 1968 album of Carter songs did include “Lord of the Dance,” and in the album notes, a shrug that “classification of Sydney Cater’s songs is self-defeating.” Yes, quite true of an album that includes both “Every Star Shall Sing a Carol” and “The Vicar is a Beatnik.” And the stinging track below. Again quoting from the liner notes, “It is the genius of Sydney Carter that his songs have this ability to make us face and question our innermost thoughts and conflicts.”  

While some find comfort in singing “Rock of Ages,” Carter joked about carrying around his “rock of doubt,” (the title of his book). His songs about the hypocrisy of religion made those who loved his lyrics to “Lord of the Dance” feel uneasy. One of the crowns in his thorny canon is “Friday Morning.” The poem first published in 1960 instantly outraged the conservative U.K. politician and one-time Minister of Health Enoch Powell. The Daily Mirror joined in, demanding the poem be banned because of lines such as: “‘It’s God they ought to crucify instead of you or me,’” I said to the carpenter a’ hanging on the tree.” 

The less inflammatory songs of Carter would turn up on “Lovely in the Dances,” a 1981 all-star collection of covers led by the lovely Maddy Prior.  Carter also got some royalties from the comic sewer song “Down Below,” which was recorded by both Ian Wallace (who also had hits with Flanders & Swann novelties) and by Rolf Harris. 

Over these past 50 years, since Reflection recorded their album of covers, it’s mostly been the general satires (“The Rat Race” for example) and the more genial and Christmas-type numbers that have kept Carter’s name alive. His name is alive but he isn't -- born in 1915, he died in 2004 at the age of 88. 

STANDING BY THE WINDOW - no dopey passwords, no creepy "anonymous" download site or Russians, no porn ads, no Paypal donation whining

PETE BEST explained by John Lennon & Paul McCartney - and MONEY

It was a nice day's week for Beatles fans, wasn't it? 

John Lennon was honored with an artless Photoshop-job commemorative stamp (long after Janis and Jimi were given better treatment). Yoko also announced a SIX CD set of outtakes from "Imagine," plus a re-imagined new print of their home movie of the same title. 

Paul McCartney went on the puppy Jimmy Fallon's show, where he teased up his "secret" NYC concert in support of "Egypt Station." EGYPT Station? Sure. Aside from Lagos, Nigeria, who wouldn't want to take a trip to, or promote calm, stable Egypt? A few nights after the Fallon-fawning-fest, Paul played an obscure closed-off room in gigantic Grand Central Station. He got a fairly mild reaction from the torpid 300 people (including the puppy Fallon, Paul's wife, some unimpressed kid standing with his Dad, and one or two people who weren't white). Hype-crazed TV news reporters were in Grand Central standing around, as were some fans ridiculously thinking they'd get an autograph or selfie or something. Usually at 8:30 on a Friday evening the place would've been deserted. The media, of course, insisted it was "rush hour" and there was feverish excitement and throngs of spectators.

Paul also found time to drop by Howard Stern's radio show, where Howard delighted in fawning over Paul and telling him how great "Too Many People" was. He dredged up the nastiness of John in writing the "How Do You Sleep" song, and how Paul topped him. Paul, as he usually does, deflected the put-downs about John with wide-eyed surprise.

In all of this, nobody mentioned Pete Best. Not Paul. Not Yoko. Not the US Post Office. Aside from Paul's mannequins on lead and rhythm guitar (the new album is not WINGS, after all), there was Abe Laboriel Jr. on drums, once best known for his seat of power behind France's superstar Mylene Farmer. But...couldn't Abe step aside and let PETE give it a go?

I remember seeing Pete Best sitting at a memorabilia table, ready to sign something for a twenty. Somehow, I didn't consider getting a signed photo or CD as owning a piece of history. A few tables away was Peter Tork, also signing for the same price. Or not. Neither had a long line of takers. 
 
Below, John and Paul's best interview remarks on Pete, and why he was sacked. It's followed by an example of his adequate but not innovative drumming. Happily, "MONEY" is not just a song title. A few of his tracks with The Beatles did manage to turn up on one of the Capitol re-issue CDs, and since people actually still buy everything Beatles, he got a decent paycheck. Pretty good, at a time when the royalties for almost everyone who made music 50 years ago have petered out. 

Lennon and McCartney talk about Pete Best - then you get MONEY instant download or listen online - no Password or Paypal-donation pestering.

Elvis Costello’s Dad Ross McManus “Patsy Girl” - this Guyana’s In Love with You

      For a little while, Ross McManus was "Mr. Patsy Girl," the guy who hit the charts his first time out. "Patsy Girl" was credit to Ross McManus and the Joe Loss Blue Beats. The HMV single (1964) was the solo vinyl debut for a guy already respected as the vocalist for Loss's very popular big band.

       Born Ronald Patrick Ross McManus (October 20, 1927-November 24, 2011), he was both a singer and  trumpet player for Joe Loss. He took his son Declan McManus (Elvis Costello, born in 1954) to some of his gigs and TV tapings. The kid was delighted to meet all kinds of famous musicians thanks to his Dad and the fame of the Joe Loss group. At the height of Beatlemania, his Dad came home one day with...yes...ALL FOUR BEATLES AUTOGRAPHS. Because the large piece of paper couldn’t fit in his autograph book, ELvis cut each signature out individually to preserve.

      Elvis' Dad was an expert musician who could almost instantly memorize any song. He'd slap a tune on the turntable, get it down, and hand off the vinyl to his son. With budget cover version records becoming popular, Ross moonlighted as a mimic, covering a diverse range of artists. For cheap labels such as ROCKET and CANNON, Ross would come into the studio and knock off a bunch of tracks using different voices. He used different names, too. As Hal Prince, he performed Roy Orbison's "It's Over." As Frank Bacon (backed by the Baconeers!) he sang The Beatles "She Loves You." Ross was the lead voice behind mythical groups such as The Layabouts, The Ravers and The Foresters, the latter specializing in folk music. 

       Ross's background in voices was an asset when his first single came out: a novelty A-side done in a Guyanese accent, backed with a jivey variation on Muhammad Ali (see I'm the Greatest" below).

    Pretending to be “of color” is not PC anymore, but there was quite an arc for it, starting with the minstrels and Al Jolson, and wandering through “isn’t he a black guy?” 78 rpm singles by jazz vocalists Frankie Laine and Louis Prima. In 1964, it was ok to goof around with an accent, and "Patsy Girl" did well. Singing ethnic would remain with us through Sting’s ridiculous “Roxanne” and Peter Gabriel’s offensive “Biko,” which can’t pay tribute to an African without mimicking the dialect. 

    In 1964, did people assume Ross McManus was from Guyana? Did they simply think he was a white guy putting on an accent the way Lonnie Donegan fucked around with hillbilly American voices? Most likely people just weren't as fucked up as they are now, and figured that if somebody wanted to cosplay in another dialect, it was a tribute.

     Ross issued one more HMV single, "Stop Your Playing Around" in 1966, and was signed by Decca for a one-off, a cover of Frankie Valli's "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You." His next and last single, on the Spark label, was a Beatles cover, "The Long and Winding Road" issued under a new name...Day Costello. Altogether now...the DAY would come when another Costello would get a chance at the charts...and come up with hit after hit.

PATSY GIRL - a hit for ROSS MCMANUS listen online or download. No ego type-my-name passwords, no "give me a Paypal tip for my HARD WORK" horse shit.

"I'm the Greatest" - Elvis Costello? No, His Dad Ross McManus as MUHAMMAD ALI

    Back when he was Cassius Clay, and not yet the World’s Champ, Muhammad Ali and Columbia records offered both a single and an album, “I am the Greatest.” He wasn't competing with Joe Frazier as a singer yet. (Not yet; he eventually tried singing via a cover version of “Stand By Me”) On the record and the single, Mr. Clay recited his comic poetry. 

    Clay’s “I am the Greatest” is not covered by Ross McManus, Elvis Costello’s father. This is a completely different tune. The novelty B-side to the novelty “Patsy Girl,” it offers a pretty ok impression of the brash new boxing star. There might be a little too much Ray “Harry the Hairy Ape” Stevens in there, but it’s ok. The number is very much a Louis Jordan-type bop boogie. 

     Perhaps trying to steer clear of a lawsuit, the lyrics don't specifically mention boxing. It's just a coincidence that the singer reference's Drew “Bundini” Brown’s catch-phrase for his pal Ali: “Float like a butterfly sting like a bee,” by doing a bee sting gag. Anyone without a knowledge of the boxing scene (in 1964) or the catch-phrase "I am the Greatest" might just think the song is simplyi about some guy coming on to his girlfriend. 

    This single probably turned up in stores after Clay won the championship from Sonny Liston (February 25, 1964) and announced he was now Muhammad Ali, one of the dreaded Black Muslims.

     Back then, Elijah Muhammad (Ali's spiritual leader) and Malcolm X both spoke angrily about whites (Malcolm being the “blue eyed white devil” guy). Ali was outspoken in favor of segregation, and said he didn't have anything against whites but didn't think it was a great idea for the two races to mingle that much. He was the opposite of Jack Johnson when it came to white women. His wives (he eventually had four, and eight children including a few out of wedlock) all had to be Muslim. He would sign autographs on booklets about Islam so that fans might read and convert.

      Many people, especially "youngsters" (as Ed Sullivan used to say) loved Cassius Clay and his comical brashness. The elders weren't so amused, and many were hoping Sonny Liston would shut his mouth. Or Henry Cooper. Or Floyd Patterson. Or Joe Frazier. Clay played off his loudmouth publicity, intentionally being the showman. He'd been inspired by Gorgeous George, a wrestler whose fame and money rested from being prettier and more flamboyant than the others. As Clay, he even did a photo op with the brash Beatles in Florida. He had no idea who they were, just that it was good publicity. After the "moptops" left, he mused, "who are those faggots?" 

      Becoming a Muslim seriously alarmed people, because that cult seemed dangerous, and some of its leaders, particularly Malcolm X, were spouting a lot of violent and reverse-racist views. Some of Malcolm's speeches were loaded with anti-white, anti-Semitic, and totally nuts re-writes of religious history, portraying Islam as older than Christianity and Judaism. Some of the teachings involved even more bizarre fairy tales than Noah's ark or Adam and Eve. It was only after the deaths of both Elijah and Malcolm that a calmer version of Black Islam evolved. 

      Ali's refusal to be drafted for Vietnam, even if given a cushy job entertaining the troops or being a conscientious objector, led more people to dislike him. He remained a favorite of the younger generation, and of those who reasoned that a guy who could goof with white Howard Cosell, and be trained by white Angelo Dundee, and have white Ferdie Pacheco as his ring doctor, was not racist at all. Over the years, many came around to admiring and even loving Muhammad Ali. He overcame his losses (to Frazier and Norton) and found a way of beating George Foreman against all odds and advancing age. 

      He retained his good humor, and his genuine love of all people could be seen in the way he found time to play with children, do magic tricks, comfort the elderly, and be patient and gentle with the mobs that followed him all over the world. Amazingly, he didn't turn away visitors who came to his Michigan home to say hello or get an autograph, and he also made sure his training camp was open so fans could stop by. This frustrated his wife and his managers and trainers, but it was the way he was; he genuinely respected and empathized with everyone, and unlike Joe DiMaggio and so many other big-named stars, he felt an obligation to brighten the day of the average person, and make a wish come true for those who wanted to shake his hand. 

       He had everyone's sympathy when his health began to fade, and the voice that had brought good will to the world, and good humor to so many, was stilled. He retained his dignity, even with the immobile face and trembling hands, and didn't stop making public appearances. When the 9/11 terrorists and subsequent attacks tarnished the name of Islam, Muhammad Ali issued a statement making it clear that his was a religion of peace, and the Muslims involved were dangerously misguided. Ali prayed five times a day and read his Koran. 

        Meanwhile, back at the download...Whether Ali ever heard “I’m the Greatest” or thought it was funny…nobody seems to know. 


"I'm the Greatest" - Ross McManus instant download, listen online, no passwords or creepy foreign language spyware site to go to

Elvis Costello's Dad does the DC5 - BACON BITS!

You may well ask, "Why is there no mention of DC's actual name here?" 

Because DC is a bit of a git, and he keeps a tight control of his catalog. He always kept tight control over his band, too, and there were complaints about who got the big share of the money. Rightly, he's one of the people rich enough to file complaints when things get beyond "fair use," as they usually do with blogs, forums and torrents. He might figure this is "fair use" but...sometimes people hire BOTS as part of enforcement, and a BOT has no idea and doesn't make value judgments...just automatic bonking. But a name in a photo? Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more.

Now then. Elvis Costello's father was very successful performing live with the Joe Loss band, touring all over Europe. He was somewhat successful under his real name, issuing a few singles. Well, very few. Three between 1964-1967. He was also in demand as a "cover version" singer, somebody who could sound like a high-priced star. You might recall the game that Promenade and other labels played, of offering THREE songs on each side of a 45 rpm single, allowing pre-piracy music fans the option of hearing their favorite songs six for the price of one. Just not by the original artist. 

As "Frank Bacon," Ross did his best to replicate the DC5 sound. Listen....

BITS & PIECES of Bacon. Actually, the whole song. Listen or download. NO obnoxious Paypal tip-jar request.

DO YOU LOVE ME Bacon version? Don't shrivel away. Download or listen online. No passwords or bullshit "your flash is out of date, DL some spyware" warning

ROE YOUR BOAT: HEY "EVERYBODY" IT'S REALLY COSTELLO'S DAD!

No, that's not Buddy Hackett opening for Elvis Costello. 

Elvis enjoyed paying tribute to his Dad. When a geezer came up to Elvis and said, "Yer not the singer yer father was," Elvis smiled and agreed. 

Ross McManus was certainly a fine big band singer when he was with Joe Loss, but also, a very versatile one. He could sing in a lot of different styles. He was sought after for a lot of lucrative if anonymous work. 

When he died in 2011, some of the obits headlined: "Elvis Costello's Father: Secret Lemonade Drinker." What?

The last part refers to a very popular ad on British TV. It ran from about 1973 to 1981, which could've meant that while Elvis Costello was having a hit with "Alison," his Dad was actually reaching more listeners! 

The singing voice for the pyjama (we're talking England) clad secret lemonade drinker (Julian Chagrin) was Ross's. The odd thing is that Julian doesn't look that far removed from Elvis Costello, or, of course, a young Ross McManus. Connoisseurs of this idiot commercial have noted all the variations on how the guy walks downstairs at night (hushing his curious dog), gets all excited about having a bottle of R. White's, and then gets caught by his wife. There were several different wives including the old comedy legend Frankie Howerd. 

EVERYBODY seemed to have a reason to know and appreciate Ross McManus. This includes Tommy Roe? Well, maybe not. Back in the days of copycat cover versions, McManus used yet another alias for his version of "Everybody" in 1966. Here's "Hal Prince" singing the Tommy Roe song...

EVERYBODY -- download or listen online. No dopey passwords, no creepy German or Russian server or malware

Say hello to TOODLE LOO from Berry Gordy's brother BOB KAYLI

     Here's a pretty silly ballad...a guy mewling "Toodle Loo" to his baby. You might even laugh, especially since it's from Bob Kayli, whose only chart action was in the novelty field. 

    The first thing you might want to know, if you have an inquiring mind, is where the idiotic expression “toodle loo” came from. The answer is…nobody’s quite sure. Some say it’s mis-heard from the French “a tout a lheure” (see you later). If you pronounce it “tootle-lure” and shorten it to “tootle loo,” you’ve got it. Maybe. It might be a mutation on the word "toddle." As in, “I’ll be toddling off to that new Indian restaurant…” “And toddles to you, too…” “Toodle loo…” Toora loora loora and a vindaloo, too. 


     Bob Kayli used a pseudonym rather than be identified as Bob Gordy, brother of Berry Gordy. After all, the song was on the Gordy label, and DJ’s of the day were a bit concerned about payola and nepotism. In the photo above, that's Robert on the left, Mable John, and Berry. Bob celebrated a birthday a few days ago (July 15, 1931) so what better way to celebrate a forgettable artist than to publish a forgettable song on an obscure blog? 
  
     Though Kayli gave a toodle-loo to his singing career, after only a few singles, he did have an auspicious beginning. His lone scrape at the Top 100 came in 1958 when “Everyone Was There” (written by both of the Gordy brothers) hit #96. Since the song was far from the Gordy label's soul stuff, it ended up being released on Carlton, which was more novelty oriented; they had a hit with “Little Space Girl.” That one featured a white guy with a black-sounding name (Jesse Lee Turner) while “Everyone Was There” had a singer’s name that seemed white (Bob Kayli) and a vocal style that was a bit similar in hiccups to Buddy Holly. 

     Sort of a name-dropping version of “Splish Splash,” Bob sings about a party…that featured all the hip novelty acts of the day:  

    “The Witch Doctor walla-walla’d in the sand while the Purple People Eater ran a hot dog stand. Everyone was there-eh-eh-errre, everyone but you-ha-hoo….then I met the pretty Pe-he-heggy Sue…”  

    Between 1958 and 1962 Kayli tried and tried again to get further into the Top 100. One novelty attempt was a COVER of an ANSWER song. Following “Big Bad John,” Phil McLean recorded the oh-so-clever “Small Sad Sam,” and Bob Kayli covered it. There's more curious-but-who-really-cares trivia for you. 

      “Toodle Loo,” which Kayli wrote by himself (the label credits R. Gordy) was the flip-side to “Hold On Pearl” (1962) which was another Bob and Berry co-write. “Hold on Pearl” is a stupid novelty that somehow mashes together the “Teen Horror” songs of the day (like “Tell Laura I Love her”) and the hapless soul miseries of a guy like Gene McDaniel (“Tower of Strength”). 

    The song didn’t go anywhere with its various stanza anecdotes about Pearl getting into trouble and Bobby having to save her: “She was laggin’ back and caught her size ten foot in a railroad track. The train was coming it was plain to see. She kept laughin’ at the train and screamin’ to me! I cried, “Hold on Pearl! Hold on girl! Hold on Pearl! Your Bobby’s comin’ to you!” Kind of odd that this song about a jerk who can’t get rid of a troublesome twat had the kiss-off “Toodle Loo” for the flip side. 

    Robert Gordy dropped his Kayli and went to work at Jobete Music, which owned the publishing rights to so many Motown hits. He was there from 1961 until his retirement in 1985, when he and the company said TOODLE LOO. But...as your download awaits, TOODLE LOO is not always FOREVER....


Toodle Loo - instant download or listen online - No dopey Passwords or bratty demands for a Paypal tip

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  

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