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Because the seven-and-a-half minute recording exceeded the 3-minute max rule imposed by radio, the producers decided to split it up into two parts on two separate sides, whacking a few “shake that thing” passages in a vain attempt to cool down the heat generated by Ray and The Raelettes. “What’d I Say Parts 1 and 2,” Ray Charles, July 1959: The experience of listening to this 45 felt like I’d stepped back into the age of The Flintstones, when Fred had to power his stone-wheeled car with his feet. A. was a happy, benevolent and generally peaceful place where everything went according to plan (thanks to the CIA.) and the future would be one of endless progress as long as those durned Negroes didn’t stir up too much trouble. Let’s return to 1959, to the waning days of the Eisenhower administration when Vietnam was a tiny zit on America’s ass and the U. but we’re getting way ahead of our story. No one could foresee that America would piss away its resources, its moral standing and more than 50,000 young men in an Asian jungle. Then again, everyone assumed that JFK would be president for eight years before turning the reins over to Bobby. All the signs pointed to an early demise for rock ‘n’ roll, and none of the artists of this period came close to reigniting its smoldering ruins. Soul was clearly moving into its prime-you can draw a straight line from the music of this era to the golden period of Motown, Stax and Atlantic. On the flip side, if someone had told you back in 1962 that rock ‘n’ roll would soon be rescued from oblivion by four guys from Liverpool, you would have immediately concluded that the guy had a screw loose somewhere. No one-especially no one in the United States-could see The Beatles coming. The best of the rest come from girl singers, girl groups and African-American artists (also heavily represented in the girl singer and girl group categories). Of the twenty-eight 45’s I selected, only two, maybe three, qualify as rock ‘n’ roll.
I’m thinking of having that senseless act engraved on his tombstone. “Hey Paula” by Paul and Paula. The Lettermen, for fuck’s sake.Īnd no less than four Brian Hyland 45’s, INCLUDING “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini.” And he traded for it! “Johnny Angel” by Shelly Fabares AND “My Dad” by Paul Petersen. “My Boomerang Won’t Come Back” by Charlie Drake. Jimmy Dean’s “Big Bad John.” Jimmy Darren’s “Goodbye Cruel World.” Neil Fucking Sedaka.
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The best of the bunch are covered here and in my reviews of The Beach Boys ‘ Sounds of Summer, Dion and the Belmonts’ Greatest Hits, the Smokey Robinson segment in the Motown Series and in Roy Orbison’s Playlist.īut jeez maneez, there was a lot of crap in that pile! Sugary, sappy Elvis singles. The sheer quantity of sides is mind-boggling when you consider that he didn’t start buying his own records until November 1961 the records before that date were either inherited from his brother or the result of sometimes shrewd trading. He spent nearly all his earnings on records, baseball gear and, later in his teens, concerts. Since there are few lawns to mow in San Francisco and no kid in his right mind would take a paper route that forced you to ride your bike over steep hills through freezing fogs, dad was lucky to have a father with a construction business, enabling him to earn the princely wage of a fifty cents an hour on Saturdays and five days a week during the cold summer months in The City. My father’s collection during this period was a triumph of quantity over quality. even Brian Hyland and his Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini. I’d take any of these folks over greedy, egomaniac losers like Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey and Katy Perry.
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The artists seemed more genuine, humble and less full of themselves, largely because few of them could get rich in an era of artist-unfriendly royalty and session payments and a touring system that made it challenging for many artists to break even. The primary virtue of the popular music during this period is that it stands up pretty well when compared to today’s over-produced, over-marketed, over-technologized shit that dominates the airwaves and video channels. While there were some promising developments on the R&B side of life, rock ‘n’ roll had become watered down, maddeningly predictable and dreadfully safe.
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While jazz gave us masterworks like Kind of Blue, Giant Steps, Time Out, Mingus Ah Um, Free Jazz, Sketches of Spain, The Bridge and more, rock ‘n’ roll limped along on life support.
If you want to hear truly great music from 1959 to 1963, forget about rock ‘n’ roll.
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