Posted in 1950s, 1958, 1960s, 1966

Episode 51–Barbara Ann

The year was 1958, and a guy named Fred Fassert wrote a song about his sister. Guess what her name was? I’m sure you know it was Norma Jean.

Ha, Ha! Just kidding! It was Barbara Ann! But I’m pretty sure the title of the post gave that away.

And now that I think about it, and all the girls named Barbara who had to put up with people singing that song at them, I’m not entirely convinced that he didn’t write the song to needle her just a little bit. 

Anyway, he and the rest of his group, the Regents, recorded the song but they couldn’t get a label to distribute it, so they eventually broke up. 

Three years later, a record distributor in New York picked up the recording and released it locally, where it became a hit in the NY Metro area. That distributor, in turn, leased the recording to Gee Records, which sent it nationwide and it became a #13 song for a band that no longer existed (and where have we heard that one before?)

Even the party pictures were faked. How about that!

A couple of years after that, the Beach Boys, under pressure to record something for Christmas 1965, put together a “party” album that was carefully crafted to sound like a spontaneous get-together, and they recorded a bunch of older songs that they happened to like. One of them was the old Regents tune, and they got Dean Torrence (of Jan & Dean) to sing lead. The tune closed out the album, and when radio stations started playing it, Capitol rushed out a single version of the record. 

There’s more to the story, but if I tell it all here then you won’t listen to the podcast, and I can’t have that. So go check out your podcatcher, or listen/download through the player below. 

And, as usual, please take a moment to leave a comment here, or a review wherever you get your podcasts from. 

Posted in 1950s, 1958

Episode 41–Summertime Blues

Eddie Cochran’s premature death in an auto accident cemented him as forever young in his fans’ minds. And it didn’t hurt the story that he died protecting his girlfriend from harm.

Cochran was in a taxi with his girlfriend, Sharon Seeley, along with Gene Vincent and their tour manager, Patrick Thompkins on the night of April 17, 1960. It was the final night of a very successful tour, and they were in Chippenham, on their way from Bristol to London in order to catch a plane back to the United States. The road they were on was dark and winding, and the car was clearly going too fast. The driver had realized that he’d made a wrong turn, and when he hit the brakes the car spun out of control and smashed into a concrete lamp post.

Seeley reported that Cochran threw himself across her to protect her, and the impact threw him upward against the roof of the car and then out the door, which had sprung open. Gene Vincent had broken his collarbone and re-injured his left leg, which he’d broken badly in 1955. The accident left him with a limp he’d have for the rest of his life. Image result for eddie cochran memorial marker -site:pinterest.comSeeley and Thompkins walked away with minor injuries, but Cochran received a serious brain injury and died a few hours later in a hospital. To this day there’s a memorial marker on the spot.

Coincidentally, one of the people who saw Cochran during this tour was a young George Harrison, and both the guitar playing and the on-stage persona made a huge impression on him. He once recalled it in an interview:  “He was standing at the microphone and as he started to talk he put his two hands through his hair, pushing it back,” Harrison later recalled. “And a girl, one lone voice, screamed out, ‘Oh, Eddie!’ and he coolly murmured into the mike, ‘Hi honey.’ I thought, ‘Yes! That’s it—rock and roll!”

The story of Eddie’s signature hit is the subject of this week’s show. If your podcatcher doesn’t have it already, feel free to listen to or download the show from right here:

And, as always, leaving reviews wherever you get your podcasts is always a welcome thing.

 

Posted in 1950s, 1958, 1970s, 1971

Episode 29–Rockin’ Robin

It was originally spelled “Rock-In Robin,” which is a distinction that’s too tedious to elucidate verbally, and it was Bobby Day’s biggest hit. But while Bobby was known for his songwriting, he didn’t write this one.

It was written by songwriter and record executive Leon René, and for some reason he let the song lapse into the public domain, so I guess he wasn’t such a hot executive. Anyway, that means if you want to cut your own record, or maybe record a version for background music to enhance a project you’re doing, have at it! Change the words? No problem! You don’t need anyone’s permission! The caveat, however, is that you have to come up with your own recording. Use an existing one, and you’re almost certainly infringing on a copyright.

If your favorite podcast catcher hasn’t found this week’s episode yet, there’s always the player below, from which you can listen or download for your future listening pleasure.

And, as usual, leaving a rating in your favorite software is always appreciated. Which reminds me: I didn’t realize that the show wasn’t available via Spotify; that should be fixed within  the next couple of days.

Posted in 1950s, 1958, 1959, 1960, 1960s

Episode 19–The Coasters

Happy New Year!

The group in 1961: Dub Jones, Carl Gardner, Cornell Gunter, Billy Guy. This was the configuration that was inducted into the Rock Hall.

While they’re often mistaken for a doo-wop group, The Coasters were actually a rhythm-and-blues vocal group, whose greatest successes came when they were teamed with the composers Jerry Lieber and Mike Stoller, and when they had humorous material to work with.They made such an impression on other artists that it was a small wonder when, in 1987, they became the first group inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. (Yeah, I know I’m kinda splitting hairs, here: the previous year was all individuals plus the Everly Brothers. But I’m sticking by this assessment.)

One of the posters for the movie, which inspired the Coasters’ song (but the song isn’t based on the movie). This ain’t a bad place to be, if you’re Gary Cooper.

Their peak years, chart-wise, were between 1958 and 1960, when all of their Top 40 singles were released. In today’s episode we talk about three of them: Yakety Yak, Charlie Brown, and Along Came Jones. After these three came two more: Poison Ivy and Little Egypt, which were more clever than funny.

There have been numerous configurations of the group since the first day, so you could argue that the one in the photo above, which is responsible for most of the hits, was the magic bullet. Through many personnel changes, The Coasters never quite reached the same level of success.

As if you didn’t know this already: you can listen to the show via your favorite podcatcher, or you can  just click on the player right here for listening or downloading:

And a kind word in iTunes, or Spotify, or wherever better podcasts are sold, goes a long way toward making this show more visible to the world at large. Thanks for your continued support!

Posted in 1950s, 1958

Episode 7: Tequila by The Champs

This was the A side of the record, remember.

This week we’re taking a look at a song that was never meant to be a hit. In fact, it wouldn’t even have appeared on a record if some musicians hadn’t been hanging around when someone realized that the record he’d been working on didn’t have a B side.

So he rounded up whomever he could find and fortunately, the saxophone player had a tune he’d been fooling around with for a little while, plus he had a fondness for a certain beverage from South of the Border.

Erm…no. The one Down Mexico Way.

As usual, if you haven’t subscribed via iTunes or your favorite podcast catcher, you can download the file or you can listen right here:

 

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