Saturday, May 19, 2012

REPLACING JUDY HENSKE: WAS LIZ SENEFF ENOUGH?

No...

The ill-fated Whiskeyhill Singers did not do well for either Judy Henske or her replacement, Liz Seneff. Most folkies know that the almost unanimously disliked Dave Guard left The Kingston Trio to boss his new creation, the Whiskeyhill Singers. They cut one album, notable only for Judy Henske's lead vocal on "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out." That song was proof that Henske was better off as a solo artist.

The Whiskeyhill Singers tried to replace her with Liz Seneff, and even made it to the Hollywood Bowl for a concert appearance. You can hear a sample live performance from that gig elsewhere on this blog. Tracks for a second album also featured Liz, but that album was never completed and the Whiskeyhillers went down the drain. Like Judy, Liz tried to establish herself as a solo artist.

Elizabeth Seneff (February 28, 1935-August 23, 1993) was born in Pittsburgh and from local clubs moved on to venues in Chicago, Miami and the West Coast. Joining the Whiskeyhill Singers, the group played The Ballad and Banjo in Massachusetts, The Shadows in Washington D.C. and eventually, to nobody nowhere. Liz came back home to work with the Pittsburgh Civic Light Opera Company and the Pittsburgh Playhouse. In June of 1963 she married Dr. Robert Corrigan, who was the head of the Carnegie Tech Drama Department (which would explain why some references to the Whiskeyhill Singers call her "Liz Corrigan" not "Liz Seneff")

After the Whiskeyhill debacle, she recorded her 1964 solo album "Listen to Liz" (aka: "Liz Sineff Sings Folk Songs, Ballads and Blues") for Pittsburgh's Gateway Records label. It features a pretty wide variety of tracks, from the exotic staple "Carnival (Manha De Carnaval)" to a fairly neutral version (compared to Henske) of "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out" to the wistfully mysterious show tune "They Call the Wind Mariah." The album also features "Bloomin' Heather," a track she performed on an episode of TV's "Hootenanny" show. Your sample tracks below are the wicked "Sinner Man," and the almost required cover of a Dylan tune ("Tomorrow is a Long Time").

It seemed that domestic life and academia would be Liz Seneff's fate, and that she would never record again, but she and her husband divorced, and in the late 60's she made a comeback to the folk world, living in Coral Gables, Florida and performing at The Flick. The vinyl trail runs cold with the psych-tinged 1968 album "You Can't Go," (Dot Records) which Liz made as part of the group Split Level.

Her tenure with The Whiskeyhill Singers and Split Level didn't last long, but she does make a lasting impression with her one solo album…an item that belongs in any folkie's library of rare and precious vinyl.

SENEFF sings to the SINNER MAN

SENEFF COVERS DYLAN: TOMORROW IS A LONG TIME

Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, conjob ads, or extortion demands to pay for a premium account with some "cloud" service run by Eurotrash criminals.

JUDY HENSKE & JERRY YESTER'S baby KATE - All Grown Up

Perhaps, as you stared at the cover of "Farewell Aldebaran" while grooving to the psych-folk rock power of "Snowblind" or the morbidly eerie death ballad about old Mrs. Connor ("One More Time"), you wondered, "whatever became of Henske and Yester's baby daughter Kate??"

The answer is, nothing much. She's dabbled in the world of music, but at this point, is happy to have a day job and smart enough not to quit it. As the daughter of two well known folkies, Kate of course learned to play piano and guitar, and write songs. Her first major credit was on Graham Nash's album "Innocent Eyes." She hit the coffee house circuit in Seattle, appearing on the compilation album "Souls of The Sound" with other budding young local talents. Meanwhile, she studied for her degree in library science.

Today Kate DeLaPointe is employed by the Scottsdale Public Library in Arizona. She performs at local events and fans can hunt up the album "Rare Delights," which she made as part of a duo called "Wayward Maggie." The other half of the combo is Jess Hawk Oakenstar. Rare indeed, it was issued in 2008 and is primarily available through the CDBaby website. Cuts include "Hole in the Bucket," "My Love Is Black and White" and "Sunshine on Leith." Kate also appears singing backing vocals on Judy Henske's most recent CD, "She Sang California."

Not yet available commercially is Wayward Maggie's cover of Judy's song "Dropped Like a Dime," a track Judy recorded on her comeback solo album "Loose in the World." If you can get past the opening woops, you'll find it to be an odd piece of hillbilly folk music, pickled by Judy's life's-a-tilted-carnival lyrics. On this blog, eccentricity is to be applauded, and so it's your sample in answering the question, "What about that baby on the Farewell Aldebaran album cover? Did she grow up to be a singer, too?"

True! And for more on Kate, you can visit her family website, delapointe.net

Woop Woop, you Geeks: Dropped Like a Dime

Best & Worst Singers. SILVER DOLLAR - Judy Henske, Teresa Brewer

Having referenced Judy Henske in the two entries above (on her daughter Kate, and Liz Seneff, her replacement on the ill-fated Whiskeyhill Singers), it seemed only right to once again salute Big Judy herself (and remind you her 2 CD best-of is well worth buying).

Judy Henske belongs on most any list of Great American Singers. She's sung R&B, folk, pop standards, ballads and originals in a style that is not only faithful to the material, but stamped with her own unique personality. Whatever she does grabs your attention, sauces your cauliflowers, balms your brain, and even purges your libido. She is one of the BEST.

The other side of the coin: there are the WORST. Exempting the hapless indie-label amateurs that some cruel and stupid bloggers laugh at as "so bad they're good," and also exempting intentionally bad singers such as Mrs. Miller, let's confine WORST to actual respected money-making performers who YOU CAN'T STAND TO HEAR FOR EVEN ONE SONG. Who do you rate as the opposite of Henske…someone who can give you tinnitis with her tonsils? Maybe the braying Stevie Nicks? The overblown Celine Dion? The car-alarm Whitney Houston? The grandly enunciating Kate Smith?

The nominee here as THE WORST, is the grating, irritating and infuriating Teresa Brewer. Stevie Nicks is a cutie. It's a bit un-American to claim not to be able to sit through Kate Smith's "God Bless America." Celine and Whitney you might be able to tolerate the first time you hear them lambast a big ballad with their lung power. But Teresa Brewer? Anything she sings she ruins, and it happens within 20 seconds.

Her adenoidal voice almost perpetually fires loudly in a range that would frighten chipmunks. She sings lyrics as if she was calling out Bingo numbers, and matches her lack of emotion with an overbearing amount of glee. To quote Ed Asner as Lou Grant: "You have spunk…I HATE SPUNK." Even a song that suits her perfectly, is perfectly horrifying. Ten seconds of "Put another nickel in, in that nickelodeon…" and you want to pay a hit man to kick her out the door.

If you care to nominate someone else, do leave an acidic comment. Bear in mind that your choice should not simply be guilty of having an untrained voice (Patti Smith), or having a supposedly good voice but absolutely no clue to interpreting lyrics (Miss Toni Fisher and "The Big Hurt" for example). Nor should you vilify a singer if she has the redeeming quality of giant boobs (Dolly Parton's voice is not all that pleasant to my ears, but she sang "9 to 5" well, and her rendition of her self-penned "Jolene" is actually good). The woman you nominate should have the infected trifecta of an irritating voice, clueless technique and poor taste in song choices.

Here, as an example of the right and wrong way to sing a song, is Judy Henske and Teresa Brewer both covering "Silver Dollar."

Teresa Brewer SILVER DOLLAR

Judy Henske SILVER DOLLAR Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, pop-unders, links to dopey porn and bogus dating sites, or requests to pay for a "premium" account from a Eurotrash "cloud" server run by criminals.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

THE DARK SIDE of MR. BASS MAN, JOHNNY CYMBAL

Getting older usually means getting wiser, and a little darker.

The giddy novelty hit "Mr. Bass Man" gave teenage Johnny Cymbal instant fame, and optimism for a bright future. But he never had another hit. He even tried many name changes. Into his 20's and 30's he tried generic pop songs about love, as opposed to doo-wop nonsense noises. "Cinnamon," (1968) was the closest he had to another Top 40 success, released under the name Derek. He also recorded as "Brother John" or "The Non Conformists," and other names that distanced himself from the novelty of precocious doo-wopping comic "Johnny Cymbal"

The real novelty about Cymbal is…that his name was no drumbeat invention to go with the bass man. He was born John Blair in Scotland, but his stepfather was a Polish guy named Cymbal. The family moved to Canada where Johnny enthusiastically pursued his dream of being a teen idol. His dream began coming true. At the time, managers and disc jockeys could "discover" talent, and open doors to record labels. Only 15, he was signed to MGM. Though his singles, including teenager in love ballad "Always Always" didn't do much, a side released by Vee-Jay ("Bachelor Man") got some airplay, and he was picked up by Kapp, and bankrolled with studio time and veteran producer Alan Lorber. "Mr. Bass Man" was a hit. His next single, about a girl who wants to get married (with a bass man offering the first four notes of the wedding march, "Dum Dum De Dum") was not.

With no more light-comedy hits coming, Cymbal dipped briefly into the dark side with a strange teen-agony single. At a time when "Teen Angel" and "Tell Laura I Love Her" and other death tunes were popular Johnny offer "The Water Was Red," (about a shark attack on a young couple. It didn't bubble up into the Top 40. It may have been the romantic melody and soothing crooning, and the first stanza's imagery of red sunset on the water that lulled listeners into not closely following the end (literally) of the story. Likewise, his version of "Teenage Heaven," a morbid list of dead stars (including bass-man Big Bopper) and forecast of future inductees, didn't liven up his royalty check either. Apparently because he was a "one hit wonder," or that his very credible teen tunes of the late 50's and early 60's were spread over a variety of record labels, there was always a shortage of Johnny Cymbal compilations on vinyl, and the few CD compilations are such poor sellers that it's hard to find 'em on eBay or Amazon at a "nice price."

In his up and down career, he mostly survived as a producer (for Mae West and Gene Pitney among others) and songwriter. While songwriting royalties aren't as big as ones that include performance, his bank account got healthy from a sappy Hallmark ballad covered on hit albums from Glen Campbell and Elvis Presley ("Mary in the Morning"). Johnny couldn't resist coming up with novelty tunes now and then and one of them got some airplay: "I'm Drinking Canada Dry," covered by The Flying Burrito Brothers.

A songwriter's agony is rejection, and being ignored, and having some favorite songs never go anywhere except around and around on a worn-out acetate passed from cynical manager to dumbass agent to tin-eared record exec and back. To quote a line from a Gilbert O'Sullivan song posted on the blog: "I like it…but it doesn't knock me out. I think it's great! But it could be better…" Sadly, while the Lee Hazlewoods and Randy Newmans of the world could manage to get a record deal and at least get their quirkier, less commercial, or simply neglected songs out there in their own versions, Johnny Cymbal was tarred with the feathery "one shot wonder" tag, and rarely had such an opportunity. Long after his death, songs he "left behind" have finally been released on a pair of CDs, and there are some neglected gems. Here are two dark beauties:

"Here's to the Hunter" could easily have been sung by Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra, each taking a sullen chorus in this sullen, sinister story of an encounter between a drifter and a woman living alone. Not that it would've been a hit, but it would've been a respectable album tack, and that would've provided some validation and some royalties.

"This House is Haunted (by your memory)" is more upbeat in tempo, more in the style of R. Dean Taylor's 'There's A Ghost In My House," and other bleak but commercial pop tunes. Taylor pushed his rhythms in the direction of Motown, but the swamp stomp on this one means that Cymbal was hoping to find some grim C&W performer to take that darkness into the light.

The darker side of Johnny Cymbal's songwriting was not seen by the public. Getting older for a "one hit wonder" is not very commercial. Being "young at heart" is. And that's why the oldies circuit thrives on performers who look fairly close to the way they did 20 years ago (Peter Noone, Frankie Avalon, etc.) still have the energy and/or the range despite the graying hair (Lou Christie, Jay Black once leader of Jay and the Americans), or had a hit song that transcends any era and his ageless (nothing can stop Gene Chandler, "The Duke of Earl.") Johnny, still youthful with a full baby face, could indeed sit at a piano and tackle both the falsetto and the bass of his one-hit wonder. The original bass line was provided by Ronnie Bright of The Valentines…who was only a notch below other wacky practitioners of the day, such as fabulous Fred Johnson, who dipped and wurped for The Marcels). Cymbal performed "Mr. Bass Man," "Cinnamon," and other songs in his catalog on March 11th 1993 at a songwriter workshop-event, looking good and singing strong. A few days later, March 16th, he was dead. He was only 48. Yes, the picture of him at the top was taken less than a week before he was taken.

And so it goes, and so it went, for Johnny and for so many other songwriters who score a hit or two, and try to make it into a career. You knock 'em out and you hope for the best, and yes, you also hope that the music industry (the RIAA, ASCAP, BMI, RCA, etc.) tell the accountants not to screw you so badly you can't pay for health insurance. Not that the alternative today…giving it away free, or streaming it for pennies, is better. (Note, the songs offered in the link below are of a lesser bit-rate than both CD and mp3 downloads available on line from the major music selling sites).

In the old days, fans hunted for music in record stores. Now the internet makes it easy, and free. "Here's to the hunter, here's to the great pursuer. Here's to the hunter. Drink to the evil doer….here's to the hunter in us all."

HERE'S TO THE HUNTER

THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED

PETER TORK & his MARTIN BRILEY MILKSHAKE (no Gannet)

Let's be honest about human nature. When Davy Jones of The Monkees died, most of you thought: "Who'll be next? Peter, Mickey or Mike?" Before this, morbid fans were wondering: "Who will be the first of the gang to die." Who knows, some fan newsgroups even have a "death pool" and bet on this kind of thing. Some even voice their opinions on who should be the first to go, based on which one isn't as essential or lovable as the others.

Ruminating on God's heavenly blender and the final frappe…is Mr. Tork, surviving health problems over the years, and now covering an existential and oddball Martin Briley song. Martin, whom some critics consider a master of misanthropy and misogyny (a matched set) always threw a novelty song onto each album...a fast paced and sardonic piece with comic imagery. "I Feel Like a Milkshake" (title reduced to "Milkshake" by Tork) appears on Martin's first lp, the one that includes some very dire cuts, including one that imagines him terminal and "lying in a bed of piss and crumbs."

Peter thought enough of Martin's song to cover it twice. The version on the "Tao" CD is faithful to the original in tempo and lyrics. The version below is, well, more Torky. The song is about a Brit visiting a typical greasy spoon Smokey Joe diner and getting involved with the chef's wife. "I tipped heavy so he wouldn't think the English were mean," sings Martin. In this cover, Tork changes "the English" to "the Yankees." And in the original and Tork's "Tao" version, the line is: "I'm not a gannet but she had me eating out of her hand." Which had me asking Mr. B. what a "gannet" was, as I thought this was British slang. Tork, figuring his fans ain't ornithologists, changed the species to one more common in America, the pigeon.

Other Peter Tork obscurities are available at the usual places, like eMucous and SpottyPie, where the artist might get a fraction of a penny per streaming play or download. In other words, a royalty check from all of these places, combined, might be enough to get the singer a milkshake at Applebees. Maybe even a hansburger to go with it, and some Dutch fries…but not much more. Eventually, as artists find themselves fed up, but not fed, thanks to Spotify's stingy royalty rates (abetted by more people pirating than buying), they'll feel like a milkshake. Or, shaking up the complacent music industry via a massive lawsuit. Sweet!

Feel Like a Milkshake Check out the fast Tork on this download. No capcha code or extortion to open a premium account.

GUNSMOKE THEME: THE RARELY HEARD LYRICS

Sixty years ago, a new radio series premiered: GUNSMOKE. It lasted from April 26, 1952 to June 18, 1961…starring William Conrad as Marshal Matt Dillon and Georgia Ellis as Kitty Russell. It was one of the last radio shows to fall to the popularity of television, and it's quite a testament to Mr. Conrad and his writers and cast, that his "Gunsmoke" spent most of its run in competition with the TV version starring James Arness and Amanda Blake. The TV show premiered September 10, 1955 (ending its historic run on March 31, 1975).

"Gunsmoke" is credited as the first "adult western" series. Radio's "Lone Ranger" and "Cisco Kid" were intended for kids, as was most of the cowboy movies that played in theaters starring various Bucks and Hopalongs and Sons of pioneers. Radio listeners instantly knew the intent behind the series from the weekly introduction:

Announcer "“Around Dodge City, and into territory on west, there's just one way to handle the killers and the spoilers: that's with a U.S. Marshal, and the smell of gun smoke!” Conrad: "I'm that man. Matt Dillon. United States marshal… the first man they look for, and the last man they want to meet… it’s a chancy job, and it makes a man watchful… and a little lonely.”

Lonely? Not a trait of such heroes as the Cisco Kid, Bat Masterson, Wyatt Earp, Tom Mix, Wild Bill Hickok or Roy Rogers. Episodes often involved sadism, loose women, grim tales of human nature, and story lines that led more into darkness than happy endings. Some aspects of this can be scene in the early half-hour version of "Gunsmoke," which often began with Arness wandering a graveyard, grimly wishing that people weren't so prone to violence.

The end of both radio and TV versions offered up a mild, unmemorable theme song to roll with the credits. Rex Koury's loping melody had lyrics from Glen Spencer, all about old trails and ghostly horsemen…cliches from other series and movies. Tex Ritter tucked it on the B-side of his 78rpm cover of "Wayward Wind" back in 1955. In 1944, Ritter was the star of "Marshal of Gunsmoke," which was the name of the town. Marshal Dillon's town was Dodge City. Your download is naturally the most obscure version to be found…the work of The Prairie Chiefs, who probably were not Native American, and didn't scalp lyricist Glen Spencer for handing them such forgettable words.

"Gunsmoke trail, oh tell me of days gone by, tho' alone you still wind your way. Are the ghostly horsemen riding, as they speed the eastern mail? It's up to you see them through the old trail….Gunsmoke traveler, no traveller to care where you go. Sands of time are hiding your way. Bet if heaven ever let you, you could tell a rugged tale. That's why I hate to see you fade old trail…."

GUNSMOKE THEME - WITH LYRICS Instant download, no capcha codes, or lame ads for dating services or video game websites, and no extortion from organized crime Eurotrash to buy a premium account so they can make money off somebody else's copyight.

I'M DICKENS HE'S FENSTER. IM FENSTER sez SIMONE

This month, "I'm Dickens He's Fenster" is being released on DVD. It was a a combination of hard pushing from fans and surviving members of the cast and crew…and the way copyright is raped on the Internet. DVD companies know that hit movies and TV shows are "shared" the moment they come out. Even if "extras" are added for the DVD release, within weeks, a box set of "Seinfeld" or "Lost" goes for a few dollars on eBay because every forum has perfect copies for download. BUT, obscure and cult-oriented items have a rabid following. Fans will quickly rush to buy what they've craved for so long, especially since this stuff doesn't turn up so fast on blogs. That's because supposedly "generous" bloggers who "share" entire TV shows don't bother with obscurities that don't get the thousands of hits which give them rewards from their file hosts.

So if you want "I'm Dickens He's Fenster," and remember it as an amusing blend of old-school slapstick and more modern sitcom stylings ("The Dick Van Dyke Show" was around at the same time) stick a crowbar in your wallet and buy it.

The show's intent was instantly apparent from the theme song, the "I'm Dickens He's Fenster March," styled after Laurel and Hardy's "Dance of the Cuckoos" with a dash of "Mr. Ed" cadence thrown in. Laurel & Hardy's theme was by Marvin Hatley, who never had a bigger hit. The closest would be 'Honolulu Baby,' used in Laurel & Hardy's "Sons of the Desert." Fortunately for Fenster theme writer Irving Szathmary, his royalty check was fattened by the other theme song he wrote: "Get Smart," used as Don Adams marches (and eventually drops) into CONTROL headquarters. Both sitcoms were produced by Leonard Stern, who knew catchy music when he heard it.

Szathmary was a big band arranger in the 30's (when he was in his 30's) and he helped to score some of Raymond Scott 's zany instrumentals (which ironically have been recorded by The Beau Hunks, a group that has also issued CDs of Laurel and Hardy background music). Irving eventually had his own band, and dabbled in songwriting, too. One of his tunes, "Leave it to Love," was covered by Dinah Shore and Peggy Lee among others.

Irving's brother Bill was also in show biz, but changed the last name from Szathmary to Dana (their mother's name). Bill Dana (aka "Jose Jimenez," star of several best-selling comedy records) wrote for Don Adams, and knew Leonard Stern, who was both a TV producer and novelty book publisher. Dana got Irving his first theme song assignment: "I'm Dickens He's Fenster." Then came "Get Smart" and then…Irving retired from the music biz. While his brother Bill moved to Hawaii, Irving took it a step or two further…and moved to Malta.

You get two versions of the Dickens and Fenster march…the original TV soundtrack, and Nelson Riddle's expanded version. Here's to Irving Szathmary, whom Jose Jimenez would have noted, was a very talented Jungarian Hew.

Original TV THEME Just as it was heard on the sitcom soundtrack

Dickens and Fenster in STEREO Nelson Riddle and his Orchestra.

Now, what about SIMONE?

Here's "Im Fenster das Meer."

Loosely translated, she's singing about looking at "the sea through a window." In other words, in Europe they think it's "I'm Dickens, He's a Window." It's been a while since this blog's offered a foreign language pop oddity (that wasn't sung in French). It's also been a while since it promoted a still-living and performing female vocalist, so here's a piece of Danish for you to discover. Simone Egerlis became a pop sensation in Denmark via the "Scenen Er Din" talent show in 2004, and "Im Fenster das Meer" is a typically bright and catchy number that might recall Abba and other visually pleasant and musically mild cheeses.

Sample a Danish Pop Tart SIMONE

A FILL OF DILYS - DILYS WATLING

Happy upcoming birthday (May 5, 1943) to adorable Dilys Watling, who was comic eye candy for many leering TV comedians, most notably Benny Hill, but also The Two Ronnies, Morecambe & Wise, and Frankie Howerd.
Would it surprise you to know that long before her Carol Cleveland-esque cameos in comedy, she was a singer? The evidence is in the download, which zips you two of her singles, including her first: "Don't Say You Love Me"/bw "Now's the Time," made for Philips in 1964. For 1965 she covered Neil Diamond's "Act Like a Lady" /bw "I'm Over You," which isn't obscure enough to include. It got some airplay and even Gramophone reviewed it, declaring both numbers were done "sweetly, in a style reminiscent of Cilla Black without the stridency."
Despite the nice comment, Watling's output of singles waned with the sadly neglected "Paper Heart"/bw "You Go Your Way." Fortunately, at the same time, she was becoming known as an actress thanks to TV appearances on UK shows "The Likely Lads," "United" and "Theatre 625." She earned more fans via "Coronation Street" in 1966 and "Twice a Fortnight" in 1967. In 1968 she appeared on stage in "Fiddler on the Roof," starring Alfie Bass, and followed it by starring in "Promises Promises." She even got another record deal, issuing a new single via Pye, "Have Another Dream On Me" /bw "Sweet Darlin'."
On the strength of her rising stardom in British stage versions of American hits, the cute Brit was imported for a dream assignment, opening on Broadway in the swingin' musical "Georgy." Although she was completely unknown in America, producers had faith in their discovery. They should've at least stocked the cast with a few well known Brits that Americans had heard of and might want to see, but Georgy girl Dilys was supported by John Castle, Melissa Hart and Stephen Elliott instead. Theater fans didn't know the musical's composer (George Fischoff) and at the time, they never heard of the lyricist either...a promising talent named Carole Bayer. Critics took Bayer aspirin after reviewing the show: Dilys Watling had made her Broadway debut and her Broadway farewell.
Back in England in the 70's, she made those appearances for which she's probably best known around the world…including the beach pantomime in which she demurely refuses leering Benny Hill's ice cream and other treats because she has to watch her figure….only to become a binge-eating cow the moment after the poor sap marries her.
Fans of theater in the UK got a few chances to see Dilys Watling in the 80's and 90's. In an intriguing bit of casting, she turned up as the crazy beggar woman in the 1980 "Sweeney Todd" production starring Denis Quilley and Sheila Hancock. More logical was her turn in "Noises Off" in 1985. The following year, she turned up in Dave Clark's "Time." And the 90's? She appeared in a few (exactly two) TV episodes, one of "The Bill" and one of "Minder," which was back in 1994.
Most of what you can find on Dilys is audio and video from the 60's and 70's…the bleating bopping ballads that were briefly on the radio, and the saucy sketches that are being snapped up avidly on DVD from fans of "The Two Ronnies" and "Benny Hill." So she remains eternally in her late 20's as far as most of her fans are concerned, and as you approach your latest birthday, Ms. Watling wherever you are, may you stay forever young.
4 Song (two singles) Dylis Delights file No capcha codes, no demands to pay premium account money to thieving Kim Dotcom-types or organized crime slobs in foreign countries.




ILL-USTRATED SONGS #22 - THE HALF-FAST WALTZ

Oh those fabulous fifties…when people were so naive they didn't know what "double entendre" meant…and when corny wordplay got grins instead of grimaces. Previously, semi-sophisticated fellows such as Dwight Fiske and Charley Drew performed "party songs" in front of elegantly dressed drunks in expensive nightclubs. But in the 50's and 60's, Las Vegas lounges and bars all over the country were hiring whiz-bang entertainers to sing dumbed-down ditties. 78's that guys like Fiske sold secretly via his own label, were replaced by rude long-players that emerged from "under the counter" to get stocked in high-profile bins at respectable record stores.

It was basically the difference between Laurel & Hardy and Abbott & Costello…the tradition of suit and tie Music Hall giving way to the baggy pants comics schooled in Burlesque. Bud Abbott called his style of comedy "lay it in their laps," and that's what simple-minded pun songs were all about, from "Everybody Wants My Fanny" (Benny Bell) to "The Biggest Kanakas In Hawaii" (Sophie Tucker), to "The Half-Fast Waltz," which was covered by every hack in the business.

Billy Devroe was based in Florida and was probably the only artist on the Tampa record label. He and his Devil-aires have not gotten much credit for being distinctive comic singers…and don't expect any here, either. But that's why they are the download choice for an example of easy listening lewdness…they are very much under-appreciated. Except by some record store owners who are charging $10 or $20 because of the record jacket, and not the vinyl inside. Most Devroe releases (along with Bert Henry and others) featured nudie cuties on the cover. But this won't last. Fewer and fewer people care about album jackets any more. They figure a jpeg of an album cover flashing on a computer screen is good enough. Here at the old blog, that thinking sounds half-fast.

THE HALF-FAST WALTZ Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, no demands to pay premium account money to thieving Kim Dotcom-types in foreign countries.

DICK CLARK, 82: "I WANNA DIE YOUNG AT A VERY OLD AGE" Charlie Louvin

He was dubbed "America's Oldest Teenager," and even into his 80's, Dick Clark was "with it," still hanging in as a host of the "Rockin' New Year's Eve" show he created. Life goes on without Dick Clark, who died yesterday of a heart attack, but New Year's Eve won't be the same.

Before Ed Sullivan gave us The Beatles, Dick Clark gave us…well, just about everybody else via his pioneering "American Bandstand" show. Unlike colorful radio personalities such as Murray the K and Cousin Brucie, Dick Clark was a laidback guy who simply gave fans the music they wanted to hear. He let the musicians have the spotlight As with Johnny Carson, he weathered changes well and remained a likable TV host for decades. He added a variety of TV series and quiz shows to his hosting resume, from Blooper compilations to the "$25,000 Pyramid." Never too old to rock and roll, he produced the "Rockin' New Year's Eve" as an alternative to "The Tonight Show" and the Guy Lombardo style of television celebration that had marked midnight.

You'll find plenty more about him with any obit search. My encounters with him were minimal…I was invited to a photo op when he launched one of his shows, exchanged letters now and then regarding some performers or some trivia from the past, and he always was pleasant and professional; a good guy.

It's a measure of the man that even some of the most prickly people in show biz paid him tribute yesterday. Roseanne Barr remembered him as "Always a nice man." Dane Cook wrote: "Rest in peace Mr. Dick Clark. Thank you for new years and new years of class, positivity and entertainment." Joan Rivers said, "What a great life. What a great career. Relevant until the end." And he was. Although his 2004 stroke seriously affected his ability to speak, and Ryan Seacrest was really the host of "Rockin' New Year's Eve," Clark turned up for a cameo every year, and it was lovely to see. Some idiots wanted him kicked off the show for being a "downer," even if his sound bytes were just a few 30 seconds here and there, but his presence was an inspiration; he was still with us, making it to a new year, even with physical problems, keeping on rockin' as we all try to do.

Even though his speech was not perfect, and he was finally beginning to actually look somewhat octogenarian, Dick Clark remained, as Joan Rivers said, "relevant." He remained young. That spirit leads to the tribute song: "I Wanna Die Young at a Very Old Age." It's about a guy who died at 82, as Clark did, and it's sung by C&W great Charlie Louvin who kept singing and recording to the very end:

"I wanna die young at a very old age. Make life worth living each and every day… Gramps was sharp as a tack at 82, acting half his age, kickin' up his shoes. I never thought of him as old, to me he was just a kid full grown….hope that I'm that young when I'm that old…"

"I Wanna Die Young..." Charlie Louvin.

Monday, March 19, 2012

GOING CRAZY FOR BEN CASEY


March 11th 1996 will live as a day of medical infamy. Ben Casey died that day of pancreatic cancer.

He was better known as Vince Edwards.

Once upon a time, when the ideal was to marry a doctor, and Ideal was a big toy company, stores were full of merchandise about "Ben Casey" (Vince Edwards) and his cutie-pie rival "Dr. Kildare" (Richard Chamberlain). On the radio, it was hard to avoid hearing Chamberlain's annoying croon of "Three Stars Will Shine Tonight," and hard to avoid the 45 rpm novelty numbers such as "Ben Crazy" aimed at black-haired, black-mood "Ben Casey," who deserved it because he frowned so much and took himself SO seriously.

"Ben Crazy" was what the yocksters called him. I think the parody singles did better than anything Vince put on vinyl, that's for sure. One reason is that Edwards (born Vincent Edward Zoino in 1928) was older than Chamberlain, and more interested in singing standards he remembered from growing up, such as "As Time Goes By" and "Unchained Melody." Especially after he went nowhere with a contemporary single "Why Did You Leave Me?" which survives today because of the wonderfully insane "Squeelin' Parrot Twist" on the B-side. It was released in 1962 before the fever for "Ben Casey" heated up. Once it did, Edwards' new record label instantly pointed him toward serious covers of 40's and 50's romantic songs to loosen the purse strings of older female fans, leaving the 45's to Chamberlain teeny-boppers.

Ironically the weaker-voiced Chamberlain would go on to successes touring in Broadway musicals, and would later get critical praise as a versatile and serious dramatic actor. For Vince Edwards, it was pretty much of a flat-line after "Ben Casey," as he went off the charts in music and had a kind of journeyman's career in guest roles on TV and in films. Anyone remember that he briefly starred in another series in 1970 called "Matt Lincoln," playing a doctor? Another failed series called "Our Family Honor" in 1985? That he tried a made-for-TV "Return of Ben Casey" in 1988? That he was in only ONE episode of that refuge for older former stars, "Murder She Wrote?"

Your doctor's bag contains two samples of Vince vocals. First off, "Squeelin' Parrot (Twist)" on the indie Russ-Fi label, which gets any laughs via the idiot bird joyfully mocking the lead singer.

Next, more typical of Vince, a medley of three middle-of-the-road numbers from his debut album, all nicely sliding off the tonsils: a swingy "As Time Goes By," a croony "And Now," and a very credible take on the tricky big ballad "Unchained Melody."

The parodies: "Ben Crazy" from the break-in master and suicidal novelty genius Dickie Goodman, "Dr. Ben Basey" from Mickey Schorr, one of the many who tried to cash-in on break-in master Dickie Goodman by stealing his break-in formula, and "Callin' Dr. Casey" a rockabilly malted from John D. Loudermilk. The big repeated joke is that when John calls out for the doctor, the doctor gives an indulgently prolonged, "Yeessssss?" in the catch-phrase style of character actor Frank Nelson, who used it playing unctuously helpful store clerks on Jack Benny's show.

Five tracks in all. And can you name the FIVE symbols used when Dr. Zorba (Sam Jaffe) went to the chalkboard for the opening of the "Ben Casey" show each week? The first two were MAN and WOMAN. The last three sum up succinctly what happened to Vince Edwards (you have so far been spared the last two).

4 Novelty Tracks. "Squeelin' Parrot" and BEN CASEY knock-offs and cash-ins

Vince Edwards sings 3 classic songs incl. Unchained Melody. For the whole album, give a break to some poor bugger who owns a record store, thrift shop, or is selling on eBay.

Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or Rapidshare whines about you should pay for a premium account so you can steal the latest copyrighted material faster. This blog does not ask for Paypal donations or pretend to "share" when pirating for profit.

EASTER: WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN JESUS - Tony the Tiger


Easter is April 8th (good Friday, April 6th). Start making your preparations now!

First, all you nice anti-abortion Christians, stock up on eggs to boil.

Next, be a Good Christian and do more kind things to animals, like buying bunnies and chicks from a pet store that deals with puppy mills, psychotic cat breeders and semi-legal parrot and exotic lizard sellers. Not to mention the parakeets and canaries that will spend their lives caged up like Manson just because it's amusing to see them hobble from one end of a perch to the other and do a lot of tweeting (which, come to think of it, is what people on Twitter do).

Most important: FOOD. Stock up especially on egg-shaped tooth-rotting candy. Get the hollow-chocolate replicas of rabbits made with such inferior ingredients that even after Easter, at half price, stores make a huge profit. In a more perfect world, the symbol of Easter would be the platypus, the only mammal that actually lays eggs. Fortunately the near-sighted hear-sayers who wrote the Jesus story generations after it happened, never heard of the platypus so they stuck to the tale of God immaculately fucking a married Jewish woman, and somehow after Christ died, bunny rabbits became part of the myth, too.

Lastly, Easter is not a time to stay indoors and quietly celebrate your inane beliefs (beliefs = unproven fantasy). Go outside in new, fancy clothes. Ladies vanity is always good for big sales and the big ticket item is still: HATS!

Yes among the backward and brainless, the "Easter Bonnet" is still a tradition, in both tourist traps, and all the hideous towns tourists avoid but the locals make up for by standing around a lot and coveting thy neighbor's wife and hat.

Easter is also the time of year when Jews say, "When's Passover?" And when Muslims say "When do our suicide bombers blow up the world so we can really start enjoying life?" Well, there are always killjoys on the other side of the fence, unhappy about eating flat, stale bread or having to have sex with flat, stale women who don't like the scent of camel.

Now, our song. And remember, it's "What A Friend We Have in Jesus," not "What an Imaginary Friend We Have in Jesus," because Mr. Christian has never let you down, has he? Prove that he has. If you asked for something and didn't get it, maybe you didn't deserve it. (Hmmm…if you actually believed THAT, you'd be a Jew!)

Thurl Ravenscroft was the eccentric voice-over star who sang "You're a Mean One Mr. Gingrich," a ton of other basso-voiced novelty tunes, "Teen-age Brain Surgeon" for Spike Jones, and somber religious music as well. He made most of his money as the commercial voice for the Frosted Flakes cereal-killer "Tony the Tiger," that lithe meat-eater of the jungle who somehow wore a red kerchief around his neck (the kind dopey dog owners love to put on German Shepherds) and believed that urban children thrive on a diet that's 90% sugar and 10% heavily processed and nutrition-neutered wheat flour.

And here we have the instantly recognizable "Tony the Tiger" discussing the truly horrible origin for the lyrics to "What A Friend We Have in Jesus." This less-than-uplifting saga (well, Christian martyrdom always trumped even the Jews' sense of suffering being a good thing) leads to the actual song, which is thoroughly rendered with Thurl's assured, sober sense of belief that it might bring peace to almost anyone at Easter time. Except the Easter chick that just keeled over with some disease or other, the bunny that was accidentally stepped on, and anyone wiped out by some Easter act of terror perpetrated by those who have "hijacked a fine religion" (other than Christianity) to make a point about the chances of peace in our time.

Lost in the rain in Juarez this time of year?

What a FRIEND We Have in JESUS and TONY the TIGER Instant download or listen on line. No immoral wait time or ungodly demands that you buy a premium account so that a crooked uploader or slimeball dotcom millionaire file-locker owner can profit from what they stole.

HAMILTON CAMP - STAR SPANGLED BUS

Taking a tour of the Holy Land?

Bring your bullet-proof vest (unless you're a true believer and think God is watching out for you…or that God will make sure you die a martyr despite the bullet-proof vest, and that's even better).

Many years ago, a "tour of Warner Bros. Records" was provided via their "Loss Leaders" albums such as "Record Show," "Big Ball" and "Zapped," promo albums you could buy for a dollar a disc, which included the best tracks from their latest albums and, miracle of miracles, unreleased material, too.

This was "the new paradigm" of the day. Warners was saying, "We'll dig up weirdo acts like Hamilton Camp, Captain Beefheart, Van Dyke Parks, Ron Nagle and Pearls Before Swine…and we'll try and find a place for older stars who still have songs to sing including Theo Bikel and Judy Henske (and we'll have Ella and Fats sing contemporary rock!) and we will even sign a contract with Randy Newman, and all YOU have to do is get our promo records below cost, give a listen, and BUY." Ooops. BUY?

Before his attempted salvation at Warners in the early 70's, Hamilton Camp was a folkie. He'd recorded for Elektra in the early 60's. Though his music career continued to stall at Warners, Camp stayed busy via a varied career acting on stage and screen. He may be best remembered on TV for playing a crazy soldier who out-nutted Cpl. Klinger on an episode of M*A*S*H (pictured here on a star spangled bus out of South Korea). He never retired; he toured in stage productions and never gave up on his singing career. He was well-respected for those folk albums back in the day, and even finished "Sweet Joy," an indie release in 2005. He died three days later. It's a great album which covers Dylan's "Ring Them Bells" and Jimmy Webb's "The Highwayman," and includes originals as well. Camp's website has 30 second samples, as does Amazon.com, so it would be arrogant, presumptuous, and wrong to rationalize giving away complete downloads of any songs from it here.

But…out of print and unavailable elsewhere is "Star Spangled Bus," which Warners left OFF the two albums he made for their label but put ON a "loss leader" album as the best example of his work. It's Camp at his passionate, energetic best, and a more riveting version than the original written by J.D. Souther and performed by Longbranch Pennywhistle, an early group fronted by Souther and Glenn Frey. Somebody hoisted it over to YouTube so you can go listen to it over there. Their shit-kickin' California cowboy jangle take is just Dutchman's gold.

Consider this a companion piece to Bobby Cole's "Bus 22 to Bethlehem," as a symbolic magical mystery tour through that Holyland that all fanatics seem ready to declare their own (against all infidels who believe in a different imaginary friend). The main difference is that in this case, the bus is "star spangled," which might imply that the song has a lot to do with American interest in Israel and our country's grand attempt to somehow preserve the world's most hated minority (Jews) and the world's greatest religion (Christianity) and still enjoy Muslim oil. Camp:

"Ridin' on the Star Spangled Bus, gonna whip on down to Canaan, weepin' watch the beggars drink their fill. And the dirty ones are dyin' to bathe in the River Jordan and Glory Hallelujah yes they will!"

Something wonky went on with the original BOX upload, so now it's on MEGA, which seems to be equally wonky with HTML code at the moment. So just cut and paste this:

https://mega.nz/file/7FgHGKYS#PQn0YG4K0-Qrr3s0ryDvlK_eprzQAmEBFyoCDUlBj4U

Listen online or download.

COOL JEWISH BLACK GOON: "RAY ELLINGTON" BROWN



Sapristi!

50 years ago, Ray Ellington cracked the Top 40 in England with "The Madison."

And only 27 years ago, he died. February 27, 1985 to be exact.

Who says this blog isn't current? But that's why you're here, because almost no new releases are coming out anymore, and most of what does manage to come out "isn't worth buying." Or do you really think Adele is something new, the latest Springsteen doesn't use the same boring cliches about darkness and politics and hope as every other one, or that "Civil Wars" doesn't offer anemic songs or harmonies that were better done by musicians writing during the Civil War or by CSN who were born only a few years after Lincoln was assassinated.

Ellington might best be known by fans of "The Goon Show" who discovered him by staying tuned during the break in the comedy action. That's when he sang a song to fill time (a more forgettable music interlude was provided by harmonica player Max Geldray). The music was left off early Goon record albums, but preserved via the CD compilations issued in the past ten years. Many a bewildered younger fan still ain't too sure what to make of Ellington's cameo comedy appearances when the script called for an African chief or played on the studio audience sight gag of Ray pretending to be a white woman and delivering a line in a low throaty voice.

Ray's real name was Henry Brown. His black father Harry was a British Music Hall comic and his mother Eva, a Russian Jew. In a sort of Jolsonesque upbringing, Ellington attending Jewish schools and learned his Orthodox religion, but his heart was in show business and he loved jazz. He joined eccentric Harry Roy's band as a drummer. Roy's notorious today for cutting a track called "My Girl's Pussy." Louis Jordan was also a big influence on Ray, and once successful, the Ray Ellington Quartet covered Jordan's classic "Five Guys Named Moe" and other Jordan gems.

Ellington is available on CD mostly via the 40's big-band material. BBC Records did issue "Goon Show Hits" in 1974, an Ellington compilation of standards such as "The Lady's In Love with You," "Old Man River," "Miss Otis Regrets," etc. But his early 60's singles are pretty much scattered around on obscure compilations with other Brit one-shot wonders of the bygone era. It was a strange time, after all, when guys like Ellington (and Louis Prima) were trying novelty, hep-R&B and anything else to keep bopping their way into a Top Ten increasingly dominated by rock and roll.


A sample of Ellington's swingin' 45's shows his range of cool, boogie, and giddy-up ding-dong. Slippin' you five:
DRACULA'S THREE DAUGHTERS, THE MADISON, IF YOU CAN'T SAY ANYTHING NICE, LEFT HAND BOOGIE, GIDDY-UP-A-DING-DONG
Five rarities from RAY ELLINGTON Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

TUT TUT TUT TUT - GILLIAN HILLS

The great thing about women who talk French, is that you don't need to understand them. Everything they say can be assumed to be sensual, witty or adorable. Today's best female lyricist writes in French: Mylene Farmer. This blog's view of French men is a bit different. Most French males actually act like, look like, and talk like French girls until they pass puberty, which doesn't happen for them until they are 30. Then everything they growl, slur and drool is considered amazingly erotic -- by themselves and nobody else. The only way they get laid is by being intellectual, talented or ugly (or all three, in the case of Serge Gainsbourg), mistaken for French when they aren't (Charles Aznavour seemed to identify more with his Armenian heritage) or filthy rich (actually, filthy and rich, in the case of Dominique Strauss-Kahn). And oui (as opposed to ennui) having power is always an aphrodisiac! Ask little Prez Sarkozy how else he got that fine model to hang next to his skinny arm. Whether it's watching old Brigitte Bardot movies, eating French Fries, or getting loaded on their wine, we all have our ways of paying tribute to France. Some of us have gone so far as to try on a beret, try to sing like Maurice Chevalier, or wear a perfume that smells like elderberries and hamster. All of which would lead a weary Frenchie to say "Tut, tut, tut," rather than "ye ye ye" or "Sapristi!" Which brings me, at last, to Gillian Hills, the English actress who still has a rabid cult following thanks to the movie "Beat Girl," and to various "ye ye" singles she recorded in French. Around 1965, when Hills sang "Tut Tut Tut Tut," cute wide-eyed French gamins ala France Gall, Sylvie Vartan and Francoise Hardy were the rage. British and American girls were stealing the hairstyles and clothes, studying French in school, and if they were pop singers…trying to turn beans into Francs by recording in French. Petula Clark (most prominently) made sure to sing her hits in French versions to tap the market across the channel. (Trivia: "Tut Tut Tut Tut" was given an English version called "Busy Signal" as recorded by The Lollipops). "Tut Tut Tut Tut" is indeed the Franco-phonetic way of imitating a busy signal.In the course of this two minute song, Hills huffs 7 TUTs in a row, four different times for a total of 28 TUTS. Then she adds another 15 or 20 during the fade. Who doesn't love her TUTS? Hedy Lamarr once said that it's easy to be sexy…just look stupid. It's also easy to be sexy just by singing stupid, and saying "tut tut tut tut" is an open-mouthed signal of being awfully easy to please. Gillian's singing career didn't last too long, and neither did her comeback to films. Aside from the early "Beat Girl," cultists can find her, briefly, in both "Blow Up" and "A Clockwork Orange." Gillian left for hills unknown and retired as a sexy entertainer while she was still sexy and entertaining. You wish there was more on her? Tut tut! TUT TUT! Gillian's Hills! Instant download or listen on line. No wait time or sleazy ads from a crooked "locker" service like Deposit Files, who make their illegal money sending you to childish "play video games" or bogus "dating" websites.

DICK VAN DYKE Sings his THEME! Words by MOREY AMSTERDAM


It's hard to walk away from Dick Van Dyke feeling depressed, but it happened to me about six or seven months ago. One of the kindest of men, modest and with great humility and humor, he happened to mention the possibility of an upcoming tour in "The Sunshine Boys" for himself and his brother Jerry Van Dyke. But he added, with an ironic smile, that at his age, he was "circling the drain."

Which is something a man in his late 80's does have to acknowledge if he's any kind of realist. But it was still a sad thought to ponder. Would any backers really put up money for a show starring a guy "circling the drain?" He did a little two-step at one point, by way of showing that he was still in very good shape. His voice was strong. He looked very healthy.

On February 29th, the news was not draining at all. Quite the reverse. Dick was flushed with happiness, eyes watery and glowing…he'd gotten married again! At 86, he married a pleasingly plump cutie of 40. And rather than circling the drain, he told reporters: "We're looking forward to a long and happy marriage!"

So good luck to Dr. Sloan of "Diagnosis Murder," and to the chimney sweep of "Mary Poppins" (he still beats up on himself for his notoriously bad Cockney accent in the film…not to the dialogue coach or director or Julie Andrews who all felt it wasn't too distracting). Most of all, to Rob Petrie of "The Dick Van Dyke Show," tripping over the ottoman or side-stepping it. The theme song for that show was so infectious that Morey Amsterdam decided to put lyrics to it. Morey never recorded it (he did record a comedy album "Funny You Should Ask," with Richard Deacon and Rose-Marie, and featuring a Dick Van Dyke portrait of Morey on the cover) but, as an afterthought nearly 50 years later, Van Dyke's given us a memorable minute of it.

Lucky Dick…he starred in TV shows when there was money to be made and royalties to be paid. It was all filmed in Hollywood using unions…not farmed out to Canada or Romania at cut-rate prices cutting out Americans in need of a job. There was no Internet: you bought a movie ticket or a record (or you didn't), and if you weren't sure, there were newspapers and magazines that informed you (rather than stole for you, as the New Reich of Amazon and Google believe in, as long as they hold the weapons of mass dysfunction.)

Speaking of the once robust world of magazines and newspapers, did you see the article in Business Week today (March 19, 2012)? Headline: "US newspapers lost $10 in print advertising revenue last year for every $1 they gained online, a deeper loss than in 2010." Follow-up: "“They’re continuing to lose ground to tech intermediaries such as Google Inc…The industry, suffering declines in print advertising, hasn’t been able to make up for those losses with digital revenue." But hey, I read it on Business Week's website and don't subscribe to the magazine itself. Heck, I bet that article is already on a thousand blogs owned by Google….

Nevermind. Listen to the lyrics here! Trouble's a bubble!

DICK VAN DYKE SHOW theme lyrics by Morey Amsterdam. Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes or pimp-demands from a crooked file-sharing website to buy a premium account so they can make money from what they've stolen.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

AMERICA'S GREATEST FEMALE VOCALIST : PATTI PAGE



Yeah. That "Doggie in the Window" lady!

You're saying, "Ugh!" Of course you are. "The guy bothers to acknowledge the 6th year of the Illfolks blog because he wants to pay tribute to Patti Page??" Uh-huh.

The woman's never gotten much respect. Her image is White Bread. Anyone glancing at her hit song list sees a few kitschy songs with tourist-destination titles: "Old Cape Cod" "Allegheny Moon," "Tennessee Waltz." When I met Patti Page two or three years ago, she played a very modest venue. Her website hasn't been updated in a long time and she's pretty much retired now.

I'll tell you what I told Patti Page in person. What makes Patti Page the greatest, is what makes Muhammad Ali the greatest: versatility. Patti Page has not only recorded pop songs with panache and lilt, she's recorded jazz, country, Christmas, gospel and rock. As Michael Caine might put it, or Peter Sellers imitating him, "Not too many people know that." Obviously, so it has to be mentioned here!

One reason nobody knows, is the woman is humble. Her interest through her peak years was her family, especially her two adopted kids. She was just a working mom who liked to sing. She toured 40 weeks a year, she was prolific in the studio recording several albums a year...which meant that critics hardly noticed, and took for granted, the jazz concept albums, the torch ballad collections, or the rock cover songs. It was almost expected that a pop artist would do Christmas albums, collections of movie themes, religious stuff, novelty. It was only those who focused on one thing...that people really took notice of: Billie Holiday. Judy Garland. Marlene Dietrich. Patsy Cline.

Patti avoided parties, lived a suburban lifestyle, had no burning jealousies to drive her, and performed with the genial ease and gentle beauty that didn't set flashbulbs popping or make the front page of the pin-up magazines.

Judy Garland could belt. Billie Holiday had great phrasing on those jazz ballads. Rosemary Clooney and Ella Fitzgerald enunciated perfectly and were elegant interpreters of jazz and the American songbook…but you wouldn't hand them rockabilly, rock or C&W or even gospel. Julie London was fine for intimate vocals and had sexy album covers…but guess what, Patti Page had some very hot album covers, too! And she sang a much wider range than Julie London could.

Patti Page should be a Kennedy Center Honors recipient…joining such past winners as Perry Como (1987), Mary Martin (1989), Roy Acuff (1991), Lionel Hampton (1992), Morton Gould (1994), Benny Carter (1996), Loretta Lynn (2003), Julie Harris (2005), and George Jones (2008).

The stats on Patti Page are astonishing. Over 100 million records sold. 84 singles on the Billboard Top 100. Oh. And one Grammy. 1998. But she won it the first and only time she was nominated. It came about 50 years after her first hit, "Detour," and her pioneering first "double track" recording sessions. "Tennessee Waltz" is reputed to be the #2 single of all time, behind Bing Crosby's 'White Christmas." From 1948 to 1982 she always had a single in the Billboard Top 100. And while she was mostly considered either a Pop artist or a C&W artist, she remained the best-selling female artist of all time…and I don't think that title was taken away until the Madonna era.

Frankly, there are three reasons why Patti Page has not been given all the credit she's due. First, is "How Much is That Doggie In the Window." As much money and fame as it's brought her, it's also irritated critics and unfairly labeled her as just a mainstream-novelty performer. (PS, for years, she sang a PETA-type new version of the song, telling people to adopt not buy!) Second, she's middle-America, and the critics working for influential newspapers in New York, Chicago and Los Angeles have never been kind to "people's choice" performers..even national treasures such as Carol Burnett or Red Skelton, or unpretentious writers such as John Steinbeck. Third, too often her record label or her producers were off the mark with what they gave her and how it was arranged. After her cool years at Mercury she moved to Columbia. Imagine if Mitch Miller had produced Simon & Garfunkel or Dylan at Columbia! Way too many of Patti's Columbia albums were ghastly-produced to the point of gassy middle-aged back-up singers and saccharine arrangements. From there, she drifted comfortably into country-pop, which was the only place for any woman of her age to get any work at all.

Your download? Oh, no, you DO NOT get "Tennessee Waltz" or the other familiar 40's stuff from Readers Digest compilations. You can imagine (and probably don't want) the Anita Bryant-type and Doris Day-type stuff she did. What you get are six examples (from entire albums available) of why Patti Page is (unjustly denied the title of) America's greatest female vocalist. You wouldn't expect her to do a good job on:

The sophisticated Gershwin track "They All Laughed."
The country classic "I Fall to Pieces."
A typical Tony Bennett-type early 60's double-tracked pop single "Just a Simple Melody."
"The Twist."
The classic Cole Porter hooker ballad "Love For Sale."
One hell of a risk-taking gospel meltdown for "Motherless Child."

I've shaken hands and quipped with President Bill Clinton. I've been at parties with Rod Stewart and Elton John. I've had dinner with Batman (you can figure which one YOU think is the definitive actor in that part). I've been to Norman Mailer's place and spent an hour with Jim Carroll. Cool rockers, sexy superstars, and hip legends…I'm not exactly Piers Morgan but the list of celebs I've had contact with, from hours to lifelong friendships, is a pretty long one. The list does not exclude those who aren't "edgy." The book she autographed for me is on the shelf right next to the one signed by Jane Fonda. I treasure, warmly remember, and am so glad that I can say that I had a chance to meet Patti Page.



Six Examples of the Versatility of THE SINGING RAGE…Miss Patti Page Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

UPDATE, SEPTEMBER 2012

As a comment left on this post alerted us, Patti just posted, September 2012, about the long silence of late, in live appearances and recordings.

In part:

Over the past year and a half I have not focused on performance or recording but have been more attentive to the doctors, nurses and thoughtful caregivers who have been helping me face several medical challenges. Throughout my life I never really gave much thought to my senior years. I was always able to hop on a plane, go out on stage and make music with the band. At this point I am no longer able to do that. My travels now are quite limited to North San Diego County, CA where I have called home for the past four decades. Although I feel I still have the voice God gave me, physical impairments are preventing me from using that voice as I had for so many years. It is only He who knows what the future holds.

Each and every day I am still hopeful that I might regain the strength I once had and resume a more active life. I thank all those well-wishers whose greetings and prayers touch me deeply, and I look forward to days of better health ahead.

Please keep me in your prayers as I will continue to pray for all of you.

UPDATE: January 1, 2013

Patti Page was set to finally receive a "Lifetime Achievement Award" from the Grammy organization on February 9th. She died on New Year's Day. The New York Times obit headlined her as the "Honey-Voiced 50's Pop Sensation." She was a sweet, kind lady. The last line of the obit is a quote from Patti: "“I’m sure there are a lot of things I should have done differently. But I don’t think I’ve stepped on anyone along the way. If I have, I didn’t mean to.”

THE GREATEST LOVER OF THEM ALL - Mickey Press


Today, any idiot can be on YouTube and go nowhere. Any idiot can soil eMusic with a crappy album cobbled together with ProTools. And they end up in the the digital limbo they deserve…mere useless blips that most people don't even download for free. Why should anyone care when no care was taken in the recording? Knock something off for nothing and that's what it's worth.

Back in the vinyl era…you had to put your money where your microphone was. You hired the studio. You paid the musicians. You made sure what you did was worth investing in. You walked through the Brill Building with your demo. You sat in a manager's office or a producer's outer office, or stood in the sidewalk trying to sell your package to a stranger. (Uh, I think the latter was mostly on 42nd Street, several blocks from the Brill Building.)

With some luck your single got pressed and sent to radio stations. Even if you could only get interest from an indie label, there was a chance your tune could become a disc jockey favorite and the latest hit. Even if it didn't go anywhere, at least you made a real vinyl single! A piece of history! And if nothing happened, it was a family heirloom, maybe even a collectors item for some vinyl freak who's gotta have everything and thinks his hearse has a luggage rack.

I didn't know Mickey Press. I have no idea what his real name is. All I know is my father knew him, was given the indie single, and it was given to me. I've had this record for a long, long, long time. I remember also having a card with a photo of Mickey, declaring me an honorary member of the Mickey Press Fan Club. The record did get a review in Billboard, and probably some slight airplay. And it's a good bit of fake-Elvis. Meaning, Mickey Press turned in a performance well above "Conrad Birdie."

Whoever Mickey got to give that razzy-wow sax intro…and whoever charted the song…they gave him all they had, and the guy sang it with confidence. The lyrics are right down the pike, in keeping with the times, when swaggering rock n' rollers were winking about being poor little fools, and not quite towers of strength, and not always gettin' the girl they wanted even though they were so greasy and handsome and charismatic.

And so for the sixth anniversary of the blog of less renown, here's something that ain't been on the Net before, and is not on any of those "lost jukebox" compilations either.

My father died two months ago. Distinctly I remember. It was in the bleak December. He's now shelved in a very cold rectangle of cement in a mausoleum. With no records. No turntable. None of his possessions except the clothes he has on. Which I picked out to match the color of the casket. And this single he gave me....

Well...."Greatest Lover Of Them All," submitted for your approval, can be filed in the mausoleum of your external drive, under the great general category: "bid for immortality."

THE GREATEST LOVER OF THEM ALL by Mickey Press. A gift from my father. Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

FEMALE a cappella OXFORD BLUES do MADONNA & SHERYL CROW


The beauty of the human voice has led some people to believe that its purity is best heard without piano, guitar or other musical accompaniment. Sometimes a single sadist will stand up and start singing (Sinead O'Connor lost her hair doing this) but more often, a group is involved, creating a gangbang for the ears.

With rare exceptions (The Mills Brothers, for an example) a cappella has not been commercially successful. It's been pretty damn good (think of The Persuaions and "It's All Right") but not successful. And if it's sold a lot of copies ("The King's Singers') it shouldn't have. But sometimes…in some ways, it can be, to quote a David Seville b-side, "Almost good." And I'm glad that I found a CD by the Oxford Blues!

I found it despite the sloth I've felt in the past six years...as lazily downloading from blogs similar to mine replaced going to thrift shops and library sales. Why help the economy and pay so that somebody can still own a record store and be a magnet for weird old vinyl and oddball CDs when it's easy to just stay home and leech for free? Well, once in a while I find a surviving record store somewhere, or a thrift shop that still keeps a box of singles away from the mildewed floor, and one day I did rummage around, grab a fistful of oddball CDs, paid some poor wretch a buck each…and came away with some fun stuff including the Oxford Blues. And thought of YOU. And how you might like to hear a few tracks. And go on your own hunt again and buy and discover.

And to keep things fun, and not snarky (which is so hard for any blogger to resist) I will not, NOT make fun of an all-girl college a cappella glee club who combined vocals and menstrual cycles at Haverford College and pointlessly named themselves the "Oxford Blues" when they weren't at Oxford and never sang the blues. I won't say that Haverford College is located a good distance away from Philadelphia because Philadelphia insisted on it. I won't say that being in an a cappella choir is generally considered the best way of maintaining virginity.

I won't laugh at how late the "Oxford Blues" came into existence (1985) compared to Yale's poufter-esquely named Whiffenpoofs who have been pooffing away since 1909, or the all-female Smiffenpoofs (of Smith College, and I'm not making that name up) who began harmonizing in 1936. Nor will I make a lame joke about scat-singing being shitty. Nor will I lapse into lame rock-critic-speak and say how much I loves me some outsider music that's in because, well, Gabba gabba hey! No, not ME.

Because I respect any singers that DO something. That take a chance. Seriously, there's something pretty sick (even for ill folks) about getting an evil kick out of enjoying (to the point of grand derisive laughter) the well intended failures of others. Here's two cuts from the 1997 CD, issued when Emily Dorean was the musical director for the "Oxford Blues." You'll hear soloist Sarah Byrne (class of '99) handling Madonna's Connie Francis-like opening to "Like a Prayer" before the rest of the choir kicks in. No way a cappella is entertaining? Way!


LIKE A PRAYER - Madonna cover oozing with oohs.
Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

I SHALL BELIEVE - Sheryl Crow cover with merry-go-round whoops

The Old Baby Farmer - Ladykiller Amelia Dyer via Derek Lamb



Sweeney Todd was a myth. But another mass murderer immortalized by the British Music Hall, was very real. Her name was Amelia Dyer.

She may be the most prolific serial-killer of all time. She's most definitely the worst female murderess in the history of the English-speaking world, and might only be rivaled by some European historical figure such as Countess Bathory.

She killed babies. This is one reason why she hasn't had the "cult" appeal of such superstars as Charles Manson, Ed Gein, John Gacy, Richard Speck, or everyone's favorite, Jack the Ripper.

I learned about her decades ago when my love of British Music Hall led me to an obscure Folkways album by a guy named Derek Lamb. Unlike, say, Ian Whitcomb, Peter Noone, or an authentic old-timer such as Stanley Holloway, Lamb didn't choose to guff-up his assortment of old tunes with Cockney brawling or Lionel Bart-ish camp and good cheer. He sang the numbers in a sincere, unassuming way. Might've been because he wasn't primarily a singer. He was an artist. You've seen his animation on those Edward Gorey drawings used on "Masterpiece Theatre" as hosted by Vinnie Price and Diana Rigg.

Lamb's vinyl, out of print for years, but now digitally available from the usual suspects such as eMusic), is wonderful. From an eerie version of "Sweeney Todd" (first I'd heard of that fellow, too), to comical and droll numbers such as "Don't Cry Daddy," "Roll Tiddley Ole" and "The Hole in the Elephant's Bottom," it covers the scope of the Music Hall, in all its sentiment, ribaldry and, yes, pathos and horror.

The saga of the malicious, psychopathic baby farmer finally yielded a researched book by the appropriately named Allison Rattle (co-authored by Allison Vale), and Dyer's story was also featured in a one-hour episode of the "Ladykillers" British TV documentary series. "She was a bad woman, it is not disputed..." In other words, this baby farmer was no "Little Buttercup." Lamb's wistful rendition is probably quite different from how they sang it back when broadsheets accompanied Dyer to her hanging.

The late Mr. Lamb's wife, Tracie Smart, is also on eMusic with two unusual albums of rather stark and somber folk-rock. If you know Bridget St. John's work, you might want to get Smart. Just don't think you can grab something free off the Captain. He never heard of her. A few samples are on Tracie's website.



THE OLD BABY FARMER - the wretched MRS. DYER Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

Ill-ustrated Songs #21 - COMIN' ON BACK TO YOU


Among the many sublime little hippie-chick ditties out there, there's "Comin' On Back," barely two minutes on the obscure quadraphonic RCA album Carolyn Hester made in 1973. Billboard called it a "good mix of country, rock and folk from (the) veteran singer." It was, as rock critics love to say, an "eponymous" release (artist's name being the title). And in this nostalgic mood of the 6th anniversary of the blog, a little return to genteel "hippie dippie" thinking seemed like fun. Imagine, a chick who actually thinks of selling some newspapers to raise money to meet her man. What, she can't just steal 2000 eBooks and collect Fileserve spare change or get a blog and some Paypal donations??

Hester probably remains best known for being a Greenwich Village icon pre-Bob Dylan (at Club 47 among others) and for her pioneering connection to him: allowing Bob into the studio to play on her Columbia album before he was signed to the label. Though eclipsed by Bob, and by Joan Baez and Judy Collins among female folkies, the "Texas Songbird" was on vinyl as early as 1957, had already married (and divorced) a major player on the folk scene in Richard Farina, and as a symbol of the new era of folk music graced the cover of the "Saturday Evening Post" for May 30, 1964.

Her big albums of that era were "This Life I'm Living" (Columbia) and the two "Carolyn Hester at Town Hall" albums for Dot (re-issued on CD by Bear Family). Legend has it that Hester was so big, she turned down the chance to become part of a trio with Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey. The trio instead became "Peter Paul and Mary."

As folk music evolved from traditional to commercial, Hester's somewhat flinty delivery left her trailing the more pop-oriented ladies. She ended the 60's by marrying David Blume (he wrote The Cyrkle hit "Turn Down Day") and they worked on various projects together and individually, including albums on their own Outpost label. She made some attempts to adjust and update herself ("The Carolyn Hester Coalition" album featured a trendy cleavage-showing album cover…partially copped for the Photoshop job above). But by the 70's, with Carly and Ronstadt among the top sellers, the high-voiced Hester wasn't getting airplay. "Comin' On Back" in 1973 didn't bring her back. She's remained busy with solo tours, which included Blume as a side-man (he passed on in 2006).

Even now, when most sophisticated listeners are used to high voices (Kate Bush) and somewhat wayward ones (Iris Dement), there hasn't seemed to be enormous interest in Hester, and when people grab a Nanci Griffith album, they haven't added a Hester, thinking "I'd like more in Nanci's groove." At least Nanci Griffith and Carolyn Hester teamed up to sing "Boots of Spanish Leather" at the Bob Dylan 30th Anniverary show at Madison Square Garden back in 1992. In 1995 long-time hippies who could no longer patch the belt-drive on the turntable, rejoiced at a double CD reissue of her Outpost material. Hester then issued the new "From These Hills" in 1999, a "Tom Paxton Tribute" in 2000, and her most recent album is a collaboration that includes her two daughters, Amy and Karla Blume: "We Dream Forever" (2009). All are available via mail order and can be ordered at her carolynhester.com website.

Hester's RCA album remains outta print. But listen to this cut, with its charming references to simply gettin' by on a modest income selling alternative newspapers. The song reflects the still-naive way some hippies intended to live their lives…without stealing, selfishness, or becoming Yuppies. While a minor part of the Hester legend, it's an introduction that may lead you to her folk era past, and to her contemporary CDs today.

CAROLYN HESTER's COMIN' ON BACK to YOU Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

#6 and Six Years Ago Today - Illfolks in "The Village"


Six years ago, this blog arrived in "the village" of sharing. In honor of #6, a download of the original "Prisoner" theme by Ron Grainer. It was rejected as a little too weak for such a groundbreaking, dramatic new TV series. Ron re-scored it with dramatic counterpoint, ominous brass, and stunning shifts between a single melody and literal thunder.

In these half-dozen years, the copyright owner has emerged as The Prisoner, or, to use a Lennon song title, "Nigger of the World." Everyone recognizes now that Blacks, gays, Muslims and even illegal immigrants have rights...but Google and Hacktivists and greedheads don't believe copyright owners do. Copyright is not considered a human right, and people snigger at the very words "intellectual property." Having black skin could get you killed. Now, it's having an idea and asking to be paid for it. You're told: "Give it away free. If you don't, you'll be sorry! We won't let you win, you bastard!"

Marie Antoinette said "Let them eat cake," and what do songwriters hear? "Let them sell t-shirts." What do writers, photographers, artists hear? Some shit about "invent a new paradigm. What you do should be FREE." Recently, simple laws to block Russian thug websites and PirateBay from making huge profits off what they steal, got stalled because Google and other Internet giants (who make a fortune off all this) brainwashed the already brain-dead by declaring "war" against "censorship." Censorship is the issue? No, it's about justice. You don't let a bunch of avowed "Pirates" steal, whether they're in Sweden copying movies or in Somalia taking over passing ships. You need to do something when craven sites making money off pathetic dating-service ads and video game links mock DMCA's (the polite "please cease and desist stealing from me, and gee, it would be nice if you don't re-up"). It isn't "censorship" to make sure the royalties go to the artists and the companies that support the artists, and not to Internet slimeballs who chose music stealing over spam this week. Some dirtbag starts a torrent site to make money for himself and is lauded as a freedom fighter! Jesus what a world, confusing "freedom" and "we want shit free."

Six years ago, "sharing" was the innocent word for what we were doing. Quickly, the power to have an Internet audience led to corruption, self-inflated stardom, inane rationalization, and warped philosophies about why taking somebody else's property without permission was a good thing. With music blogs and forums, it became a bonfire of vanities, with everyone gleefully tossing whole albums in FLAC out there, entire discographies, and even demands for Paypal donations and urgings to download so that the "hard work" could get rewarded with Rapidshare points, Megaupload money pay-outs, etc. etc.

Good bloggers found themselves in the company of inane ones who turned their silly names into graffiti tags, over-posted like mad and made themselves out to be Gods, or cool outlaws, or hipsters, or revolutionaries. The truth is they are mostly fat, middle-aged nobodies, social lepers who have nothing better to do every day than look for "nice comments" about themselves and admire their blog wallpaper with their idiot graffiti names on. Their ego kick is to pretend their fake alias with Devil, Rock, God or some other idiot tattoo term is real and they don't have a boring name and live in anonymous emotional poverty. Their stubborn and dead-wrong behavior led to scorn and disgust from the music world.

"Sharers" insisted they did no harm, even as record stores folded and recording artists good and bad, from Joni Mitchell to Lee DeWyse got kicked off their labels due to low sales. The domino effect meant everyone from secretaries to janitors got the boot, and thriving offices that employed hundreds and thousands of people (not just greedy CEO's and nasty rich songwriters and singers) were headed for the dole. The utter madness continued, nastier and nastier, with "here's my re-up, here's my new blog, let's make sure the bastards don't win." What bastards? The Beatles? The indie band that just put out their first album and went $50,000 in debt to do it?

Let's quote from the Doubleday book "Free Ride," by Robert Levine. Or rather, the quote from it published in Rolling Stone, November 24 2011: "At what point did free music become a social cause? If artists want to give away their music, that's great. They just shouldn't have to do it when they don't want to." Oh. Well, then again, Mr. Levine, you probably know your book is being given away via eBook and mobi and you're being told to rationalize "the people who stole it wouldn't have bought it" and "get yourself a new paradigm" and "so what if the advance you got was minimum wage in terms of the time it took to write it, and your royalty check will be a joke."

We have since discovered that Kim Schmitz, a professional conman, was making $100,000 a day with Megaupload. What happened when he was jailed? People mourned. They wept. Nevermind that Schmitz, who smugly changed his name to "Dotcom" and was the richest man in the country, could've given us all premium accounts FREE. Instead we paid him, at the same time we stiffed artists and grunted that maybe, MAYBE we'd buy a whole CD if the download was a dollar or two. Somehow Megaupload wasn't a sleazy corporation run by a crook, just Sony.

No no, Herr Kim and his mob weren't evil manipulative corrupt bastards like the suits at Sony, targeted instantly with silly trick-or-treat "denial of service" website attacks. No, no, Fuhrer Schmitz wasn't perceived as evil as the CEO of McDonalds, Burger King, Tesco, Wal-Mart or Nike or Coke or the other places nobody protests and everybody visits. No, let's all scapegoat the companies that we can rip off with anonymous downloading, and don't do any "occupy Wall Street" tactics in front of Burger King...even if the employees there barely get minimum wage while the CEO's make a bundle. Hacktivists who happily block a corporate website for daring to stand up for their legal rights, wouldn't even ring the doorbell of a Tesco exec and run.

Kim Dotcom somehow deserved $100,000 a day? 99% of it built on getting paid for what he was stealing?

Who is The Prisoner now? It's the copyright owner. But the "village" is bigger than that. Generated by the writers, actors, musicians, the "village" is in danger, too. Sure, George Clooney is rich. But the staff on a movie set are not. So what happens. Clooney's movie is given away on every torrent. He still gets a fortune and his CEO's do. But union members get laid off, and the grips, the make-up assistants, the guys who shlep scenery…don't get work because the jobs are farmed out to Canada or Romania somewhere, and staffed by minimum-wagers, just like the ones at the Nike and Apple factories in China. California movie union people are as screwed as guys picking lettuce in a field in Barstow. It goes overseas. Or not at all; notice how few movies are being made. How few TV shows. How few albums. It's reality shows, cheap cartoons and a bunch of rap assholes using auto-tune and ProTools. "Find a new paradigm."

The Prisoner rails about being pushed around. But over his head comes the laughter of "Number Two" (the shit-head with the graffiti name tag he uses for his re-ups, his blog, his Torrent posts, etc.) laughing and saying, "You are NOT a free man!" But, heh heh heh...the movie you made, the novel you wrote, the song you sang. That's free!"

Yes, "sharing" has changed quite a bit from what it was six years ago. Somebody else might post every "Prisoner" soundtrack album. Over here, and not in FLAC, is the fairly obscure original "Prisoner" theme. A "share" that's more like jaywalking than attempted murder.

ORIGINAL PRISONER THEME by RON GRAINER Instant download.