Archive for the ‘Video’ Category

What’s At No. 100? (1-15-1972)

Tuesday, January 15th, 2019

Here’s the Billboard Hot 100 for January 15, 1972, forty-seven years ago today:

“American Pie (Parts 1 & 2)” by Don McLean
“Brand New Key” by Melanie
“Let’s Stay Together” by Al Green
“Sunshine” by Jonathan Edwards
“Family Affair” by Sly & The Family Stone
“Scorpio” by Dennis Coffey & The Detroit Guitar Band
“I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing (In Perfect Harmony)” by the New Seekers
“Got To Be There” by Michael Jackson
“Hey Girl/I Knew You When” by Donny Osmond
“Clean Up Woman” by Betty Wright

So what did I think about those eleven records back then, when I was just into my second quarter of college? Well, I liked “American Pie,” but generally heard the album track, not the bifurcated version on 45, which – if I remember things rightly – didn’t cover the entire track anyway. (I think our pal Yah Shure once detailed for us the history of the single vs. the album track, but I’m too lazy this early afternoon to go find that comment.)

I also liked “Let’s Stay Together,” even before hearing it during a sweet afternoon with a young lady a few weeks after this chart came out. And I kind of liked the Melanie single – with its winking naughtiness – and the Jonathan Edwards record. I was okay with the New Seekers record, too, although these days, the first thing that comes to mind when I hear “I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing” is Don Draper.

I don’t recall ever hearing either of the Donny Osmond sides. If so, I would have cringed. Nor am I sure if – in 1972 – I’d ever heard Freddie Scott’s original version of “Hey Girl” or Billy Joe Royal’s version of “I Knew You When,” which charted in 1963 and 1965, respectively. (Royal’s record was a cover of Wade Flemons’ 1964 original.)

As to the other records in that Top Ten, I didn’t care about them then. I’ve changed my mind on a couple: “Family Affair” and “Clean Up Woman” are in my iPod along with the records by Don McLean, Al Green, Jonathan Edwards and the New Seekers. I know that “Scorpio” scratches an itch for some of my friends, but it doesn’t do anything for me. And the Melanie single no longer appeals (although thinking about it as I write, I can hear it clearly in my head).

With that done, let’s dive to the bottom of that 1972 Hot 100, and there we find the last charting single for Freda Payne, best remembered for “Band Of Gold” (No. 3 in 1970) and for “Bring The Boys Home” (No. 12 in 1971). “The Road We Didn’t Take” is a decent soul ballad, produced by the team of Holland-Dozier-Holland for their Invictus label. But it pretty much went nowhere, spending two weeks at No. 100 and then disappearing.

‘Breathless’

Thursday, December 27th, 2018

A little more than a month ago, while digging into tracks recorded on November 24, I noted a difficulty in tracking the performance of “(There’ll Be Bluebirds Over) The White Cliffs Of Dover” as recorded on November 24, 1941, by Glenn Miller & His Orchestra. I wrote, “My reference library has a historical gap in it; Pop Memories gets me to 1940, and [Joel] Whitburn’s Top Pop Singles picks things up in 1955. For the fifteen years in between, I’m on my own.”

Pop HitsWell, I am on my own no longer. One of the Christmas gift the Texas Gal gave me this week was Joel Whitburn’s Billboard Pop Hits, subtitled Singles & Albums 1940-1954. That means I now have the tools necessary to make mistakes about music throughout the Twentieth Century.

I’ve not yet spent a lot of time digging into the book. The holiday and household chores it delayed have kept me busy. But I plan to spend some time paging through and browsing later today. For now, I think I’m going to play some Games With Numbers. I’ll take today’s date – 12/27/18 – and go to Page 57 in the book. I’ll find the twelfth listed record, and we’ll see if we get lucky. (If the twelfth listed record is not available at YouTube, we’ll move to the eighteenth and see how that goes.)

We land on a 1942 record credited to Shep Fields & His New Music: “Breathless.” The record was the first with that credits. Until then, Fields’ reed-heavy music had been credited to Shep Fields & His Rippling Rhythm Orchestra.

Fields, who was born in 1910 in Brooklyn, formed his own band in 1929, and starting in 1936, was a fixture in the charts for the next four years, charting thirty-six records between 1936 and 1943. Seven of those records went to No. 1, with the most successful being 1939’s “South Of The Border (Down Mexico Way),” which stayed on top of the chart for five weeks.

“Breathless,” the tune we landed on today, came near the end of Fields’ run on the charts. It wasn’t a national hit; the information in Billboard Pop Hits says that “Breathless” spent one week at No. 17 on the magazine’s Midwestern Best Sellers chart. Beyond that, perhaps the most interesting thing about “Breathless” is that – as Whitburn notes – the vocal was performed by Ken Curtis, who twenty-some years later would achieve fame by portraying the character Festus on the television show Gunsmoke.

Here’s “Breathless.”

‘And So Happy Christmas . . .’

Monday, December 24th, 2018

As Christmas Eve day heads toward twilight and evening here on the North Side, we – the Texas Gal, my imaginary tuneheads Odd and Pop, and me – hope all of our friends in both the virtual and real worlds find peace. It’s a rare commodity these days, I know, with the events of the world buffeting our souls day after day.

I remind myself day after wearying day that – as the ancient Greeks told it – after Pandora had inadvertently released all the ills of the world by opening the infamous box, there was one thing left in that box: Hope. Sometimes it feels like hope is all we have left. Hope for ourselves and our friends in our immediate lives; hope for the lost and the wounded near us and around the world; hope that somehow in this increasingly mad world that sanity and truth will prevail; hope that Dr. King was right when he told us that the moral arc of the universe bends toward justice.

May all of us carry that hope with us as we celebrate tonight and tomorrow. May we all share it with our families and friends as we hold them near. May we spread it as best we can in our communities, in our corners of the world. If all we have these days is hope, let us embrace it, and may it bring us peace.

And now to music. I wrote the other day: “I am not a fan of holiday music unless it was produced by Phil Spector, sung by Darlene Love, written/adapted from folk songs by John Lennon and Yoko Ono, or has a big honking saxophone solo by Clarence Clemons.”

Here’s one that hits two out of four. It’s Darlene Love’s cover of John and Yoko’s “Happy Christmas (War Is Over.)” It’s from Love’s 2007 album It’s Christmas, Of Course.

Merry Christmas to all of us!

Saturday Single No. 621

Saturday, December 22nd, 2018

It’s time for Games With Numbers!

We’re going to take today’s date – 12/22/18 – and add those numbers together in four ways to get 30, 34, 40 and 52, and then armed with those integers, take a look at a Billboard Hot 100 that was released on a December 22. We’ll check out the records at those positions and choose ourselves a Saturday Single. (As is our wont when we do these things, we’ll note the No. 1 record of the week.)

During the spread of years we’re generally interested in, we have four Hot 100s to choose from, released in 1958, 1962, 1973 and 1979. Although we’ve visited them occasionally, the two on the ends of that list don’t interest me this morning. And we do a lot of playing in the early Seventies. So we’re going to take a look at 1962, starting from the lowest ranked record and moving up.

Right off, we come to a name that’s been rare around here: Bobby Rydell, whose record “The Cha-Cha-Cha” is sitting at No. 52. A quick search shows that there have been only four posts where his name has popped up and only one post where his music has been shared; that was a look at the Twist craze in the spring of 1962, and the record we listened to then was a duet by Rydell and Twistmaster Chubby Checker (placed together because their labels, Cameo and Parkway, were sister firms). Rydell is an exemplar of a type of artist I don’t much care for, the teen idol. I lump him with Fabian, Bobby Vee and a bunch of others that labels found in the years between Clear Lake and Liverpool. (Other eras had their teen idols, to be sure. Leif Garrett, anyone?) He wasn’t the worst of them; nor was he the best. In our December 22 chart, “The Cha-Cha-Cha” was on its way down from No. 10, and it’s a pretty feeble piece of work.

So we move up twelve places to No. 40 and find ourselves listening to “Monsters’ Holiday” by Bobby (Boris) Pickett & The Crypt-Kickers, a Christmas-themed sequel to “Monster Mash,” which had spent two weeks at No. 1 in October. “Holiday” went to No. 30, and we’ll leave it sit there.

A trifle distressed, we move up six steps and find more Christmas joy, “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” by the 4 Seasons, heading up the chart to an eventual peak at No. 23. Admission: I am not a fan of holiday music unless it was produced by Phil Spector, sung by Darlene Love, written/adapted from folk songs by John Lennon and Yoko Ono, or has a big honking saxophone solo by Clarence Clemons. And there are some tunes that don’t survive Frankie Valli’s falsetto. So the 4 Seasons record leaves me colder than December in Moscow. At least it’s less than two minuntes long.

So as we ascend to the last of our numbers in play, I am despondent. And we find redemption at No. 30 in “He’s A Rebel,” one of the little symphonies for kids constructed with regularity in the early 1960s by Phil Spector, an admittedly evil genius. Sung by the Blossoms (with Darlene Love taking the lead) but credited by Spector to the Crystals, “He’s A Rebel” is one of Spector’s greatest records, with the Wrecking Crew – including Steve Douglas, who contributed the sax solo – and the Blossoms at the tops of their games. The record was on its way down the chart after spending two weeks at No. 1, and is probably the best thing we could have heard anywhere this morning.

As always, we note the No. 1 record, and fifty-six years ago today, that was the Tornadoes’ “Telstar.” We approve.

Given the four to choose from, we have an easy choice. Actually, out of the thousands and thousands of possibilities that float through here, we’d almost always have an easy choice; there aren’t many records I would choose over “He’s A Rebel.” (No, it didn’t make my long-ago Ultimate Jukebox, but it is among the 3,900 or so on the iPod.) So let’s just listen again (and again) to “He’s A Rebel by the Crystals (Blossoms!), today’s Saturday Single.

Turning The Corner

Friday, December 21st, 2018

This piece first appeared here ten years ago tomorrow, and I think it’s been reposted at least once before. But it’s here today because it’s one of my favorite pieces from nearly twelve years of blogging. It’s been revised slightly.

We’re about to turn the corner.

Late this afternoon – at 4:23 p.m. – the sun will venture as far south in the sky as it goes, and it will begin to make the slow trek north toward spring and summer.

That’s good news for those of us who find the lack of sunlight during this season grim and gloomy. When the shortness of the days becomes truly noticeable in November, I find a melancholy surrounding me. My awareness of its source means that the melancholy need not be debilitating, but there is a touch of sadness that lingers.

Lingering, too, is just a hint of dread, a sensation that I think is a remnant passed down through generations from my Nordic and Germanic forebears. The science of our modern life tells us that the days of longer light will return, bringing us to springtime. In the dark forests of northern Europe a couple of thousand years ago, however, there was no such assurance, and as each day brought less light than the one before it, there must have been dread every year that this year would be the time when the light continued to diminish, leading eventually to permanent darkness leavened only by the faint stars and the pale moon.

We know that will not happen. The sun will reverse its course this afternoon, and after tonight’s full moon sets, tomorrow will bring slightly more daylight than we’ll get today. And the day after that will bring more than will tomorrow. Eventually, we will sit once more in a warm, bright evening with the sun lingering late, and the winter’s gloom will be, if not forgotten, at least set aside.

We’re about to turn the corner toward the light.

The solstice also marks the formal start of winter, of course, and I have many “winter” songs on the digital shelves. Here’s one that I sometimes like and sometimes don’t. It’s Sarah McLachlan’s take on Gordon Lightfoot’s “Song For A Winter’s Night.” It’s on McLachlan’s 2006 album Wintersong.

What’s At No. 100? (12-20-75)

Thursday, December 20th, 2018

Here are the top ten records from the Billboard Hot 100 from December 20, 1975, forty-three years ago today:

“That’s The Way (I Like It)” by K.C. & The Sunshine Band.
“Let’s Do It Again” by the Staple Singers
“Fly, Robin, Fly” by the Silver Convention
“Saturday Night” by the Bay City Rollers
“Love Rollercoaster” by the Ohio Players
“Theme from ‘Mahogany’” by Diana Ross
“Sky High” by Jigsaw
“I Write The Songs” by Barry Manilow
“Fox On The Run” by Sweet
“Nights On Broadway” by the Bee Gees

Our first note here is that for reasons of spacing, I’ve trimmed the title of the Diana Ross single, leaving off its parenthetical “(Do You Know Where You’re Going To).”

Beyond that, this is a very mixed bag. By this time in 1975, I was in the third week of interning at a Twin Cities television station, so on workdays, my radio listening was minimal: morning and afternoon drive time and perhaps in the evening if my roommate – a school portrait photographer who worked the northwestern portion of the Twin Cities – and I could agree on a station. He liked the harder-edged album rock of KQRS, while I preferred the softer adult contemporary sounds of KSTP-FM or WCCO-FM. We usually just watched television on weekday evenings.

So some of those records in that Top Ten, I didn’t know as well. As an example, the chart I’m looking at shows “Fox On The Run” as having been in the Hot 100 for six weeks. For the last three of those weeks, my listening was limited; for the first three of those weeks, the record was climbing the chart and I wouldn’t have heard it very often. And, as it turns out, that’s my least favorite record among those ten. I didn’t care about it then, and I don’t care about it now.

Beyond “Fox,” three other records in that Top Ten didn’t matter to me back then, even though I had heard them fairly frequently: “Saturday Night,” “Love Rollercoaster” and “I Write The Songs.” (I think that lots of folks then and now look at the Manilow single as one of the worst of all time. I don’t. I thought then and think now that the record’s idea was interesting but its lyrics were clumsy. And I can think of many singles that I dislike a great deal more.)

The other six records, though, I liked pretty well, even the early disco of Silver Convention and K.C. & The Sunshine Band. Both of them are worthy of current day listening (as measured by being in the 3,900 or so tracks on my iPod). The Silver Convention record is a potent reminder of a beautiful (and important) autumn. It’s a little monotonous, but a listen now and then is fine. The same goes for “That’s The Way (I Like It).”

The final four records – those by Diana Ross, Jigsaw, the Staple Singers and the Bee Gees – are also among the 3,900 in the iPod and they’re going to stay there. They are not only reminders of that sweet time in my life, but they’re great records as well.

But enough about that. Let’s drop deeper in that long-ago chart and see what resides on the very last rung.

And we find a record from an early rock & roll star who became a huge country star. He’s been mentioned here just four times and never featured over the course of nearly twelve years and about 2,200 posts. Parked at No. 100 forty-three years ago today was “Don’t Cry Joni” by Conway Twitty. The record – featuring Twitty’s daughter, Joni Lee – would spend another six weeks in the Hot 100, climbing to No. 63. As might be expected, it did appreciably better on the magazine’s country chart, peaking at No. 4.

Interestingly, it was the last time Twitty would put a single into the Hot 100 (or its Bubbling Under addendum). During the late 1950s and early 1960s, Twitty had been a regular presence on the pop chart, putting sixteen singles in or near the chart, with three of them hitting the Top Ten. Unquestionably, his greatest success had been “It’s Only Make Believe,” which spent two weeks at No. 1 in November 1958.

And then there was a second act. After “Portrait Of A Fool” stalled at No. 98 in early 1962, Twitty was gone from the pop chart for more than eight years. During that time, says Joel Whitburn in Top Pop Singles, Twitty switched his focus from rock & roll to country. (Whitburn dates the shift to 1965.) The country hits began to pile up (forty of them going to No. 1 between 1968 and 1986, if I counted correctly), and some crossed over to the pop chart.

From the summer of 1970 (“Hello Darlin’,” No. 1 country, No. 60 pop) into early 1976, when “Don’t Cry Joni” went to No. 63, Twitty put nine more records into the Hot 100. The best performing of those was “You’ve Never Been This Far Before,” which went to No. 22 (No. 1 country) in 1973.

But what about “Don’t Cry Joni”? That is how we got here. Well, it’s a pretty little first-person record about Jimmy and the younger girl who lives next door, Joni. The tale – about the choices the two make – is predictable, the backing is monotonous, and Twitty’s daughter, Joni Lee, doesn’t have a strong enough voice for her part. It’s interesting, I guess, but in the end not much more than a trifle.

Saturday Single No. 620

Saturday, December 15th, 2018

We’ve been busy on both of the last two weekends. Two weeks ago, we hosted our first Circle Dinner of the church year for our UU Fellowship. (Because of schedules, it took longer than usual to get organized.) It was a pleasant evening with one other couple and a man whose wife was out of town joining us for King Ranch casserole, cornbread and other victuals.

Then last weekend, we hosted a get-together for our UU musicians, which ended – as one might expect – with homemade music in our music and sewing room downstairs. There were four on guitar with me on keys and two listening and frequently joining in on familiar songs. One of my favorite moments came when I wasn’t playing keys but rather when one of the guitarists, Ted, started in on a familiar riff.

It took a moment to place the riff, but I dug quickly into the pile of music books next to me and pulled out a thick book of songs by Bob Dylan and paged more than halfway into it. One of the other guitarists put down her instrument and stood near my bench as I held the book, and the two of us sang along to Ted’s guitar as he ran through “Buckets Of Rain,” one of my favorite Dylan songs.

So that’s where I’m heading this morning. The original version of the tune – from the 1975 album Blood On The Tracks – is (as expected) not available on YouTube. (Mr. Dylan’s gatekeepers are exceedingly vigilant.) But there are always some covers out there. And on another day, I might dig deeper into the ones I do not know, but it’s Saturday, we’re planning a day of very little, and the aroma of frying bacon is wafting to me from the kitchen.

So here is my favorite cover of “Buckets Of Rain,” a duet between Bette Midler and the Bard of Hibbing himself. I’ve posted it before, but it’s been a long while. The track comes from Midler’s 1976 album Songs For The New Depression, and it’s today’s Saturday Single.

What’s At No. 100? (12-13-69)

Thursday, December 13th, 2018

It’s not often I can look at a Billboard Top Ten and see twelve singles instead of ten. And it’s no doubt even more rare that I can look at twelve singles in a Top Ten and pretty much love every one of them. Here’s the Top Ten from December 13, 1969:

“Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye” by Steam
“Leaving On A Jet Plane” by Peter, Paul & Mary
“Someday We’ll Be Together” by Diana Ross & The Supremes
“Come Together/Something” by the Beatles
“Down On The Corner/Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival
“Take A Letter Maria” by R.B. Greaves
“Yester-Me, Yester-You, Yesterday” by Stevie Wonder
“And When I Die” by Blood, Sweat & Tears
“Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head” by B.J. Thomas
“Backfield In Motion” by Mel & Tim

So. If I love all these records, how much of that love is for the records? And how much of that love is for the time, my first December as a Top 40 listener and my only December as a sixteen-year-old, with all the tumult, grace and unrequited love that come along with being sixteen? As always, it’s hard to divide that all up.

But a quick check finds ten of the twelve records in the iPod as I began this piece, meaning I still like hearing them. As far as the other two go, well, I recall thinking about “Down On The Corner” as I restocked the iPod last year, deciding I’d go back and add it if I had room. I never did. And I whiffed on “Raindrops.” Still, 10-2 would get you into a good bowl game most years (and sometimes into the playoffs).

I’ll note a few more things and then move on: First, I’ve heard “Leaving On A Jet Plane” performed live by two of the individuals closely connected to it. The song’s writer, John Denver, performed at St. Cloud State during the winter of my senior year of high school, probably early in 1971, and introduced “Leaving On A Jet Plane” by saying, “I’d like now to do a medley of my hit.” And six years ago, Peter Yarrow sang the song during his intimate show at St. Cloud’s Pioneer Place.

Second, this would have been one of the earliest Top Tens that included more than one record I could already listen to at will. By this time, I had cassettes of Abbbey Road and Blood, Sweat & Tears. It wasn’t quite the first such Top Ten: In early November, not long after I’d acquired the 5th Dimension’s LP The Age of Aquarius, “Wedding Bell Blues” and “Come Together” were in the Top Ten together.

(For most of November, those four records, with “Come Together/Something” sometimes listed as two individual entries and sometimes as a two-sided single, were all in the Top Ten. In the Top Ten from November 15, the top four records in the Hot 100 were: “Wedding Bell Blues,” “Come Together,” “Something” and “And When I Die.” I was evidently selecting my music wisely.)

What, though, lies further down? What do we find at No. 100?

Well, we find a record I know I’ve never heard before: “Big In Vegas” by Buck Owens & The Buckaroos. Listening this morning, I heard thematic links to a couple of other singles: Glenn Campbell’s “Rhinestone Cowboy” and “Lodi” by Creedence.

And just like the singer in the record, “Big In Vegas” didn’t make it, at least not on the pop chart: It spent exactly one week in the Hot 100, sitting right at the bottom of the chart. As one would expect, though, it did much better on the Billboard country chart, getting up to No. 5.

Saturday Single No. 619

Saturday, December 8th, 2018

It’s hard to believe it’s been thirty-eight years since John Lennon was murdered. Here, edited slightly, is a piece I offered in this space in 2007 and in 2015.

It was a Monday, December 8, 1980, was. It was the second Monday of the month, which meant that I spent the bulk of the evening at Monticello City Hall, listening to the city council debate whatever issues were on its agenda. It sounds deadly dull, but I actually enjoyed covering city government; the ebb and flow of politics and policies over a nearly six-year period gave me insight as to how a city grows.

I don’t recall any of the topics on the agenda, but the meeting was over fairly early. I’d guess it was around 9:30 when the gavel fell and I walked out of the building into the chilly night, headed for my car and my home about two miles out of town. The Other Half was there, probably involved in some craft project, and there was a football game on television, Miami and New England.

And so I was seated in my easy chair, probably dipping into a bowl of popcorn, when Howard Cosell interrupted the game.

“This, we have to say it, is just a football game, no matter who wins or loses,” Cosell said. “An unspeakable tragedy confirmed to us by ABC News in New York City: John Lennon, outside of his apartment building on the West Side of New York City, the most famous perhaps of all the Beatles, shot five times in the back, rushed to Roosevelt Hospital, dead . . . on . . . arrival.”

I stared at the screen, football forgotten. I recall trying to wrap my head around the weight Cosell’s words carried, not quite grasping it, the news too stunning and too fresh for comprehension or sorrow. Not long after the game ended, the result unnoticed, we retired for the night, and I lay there, still shocked. “Do you think it will be on Nightline?” she asked me.

“I can’t imagine they’d cover anything else.”

“Then go watch it. He was yours.”

I went to the living room. In a short marriage in which both of us so often got so many things so wrong about each other, that was one that she got right about me, and I am still grateful. I watched as Ted Koppel and his reporters and guests sorted through what was known and what was supposed. Then they began the first of thousands of assessments of what John Lennon and the Beatles had meant to us.

That’s a topic worthy of several volumes – what John Lennon and the Beatles had meant to us – and not all of the answers can be put into words. The next day was a busy one at work; Tuesday was the day we wrote the bulk of the copy for our newspaper’s weekly edition. But I managed to get home for thirty minutes for lunch. One of the Twin Cities classic rock stations, KQRS, was playing the Beatles’ catalog alphabetically, and as I ate my sandwich, I heard “In My Life.”

As I listened, I finally understood how those folks a few years older than I had felt during the summer of 1977 when they got the news that Elvis had died. Bent over my dining room table, I wept for John; for Yoko, Sean and Julian; for John’s three bandmates; and I wept for all of us who’d loved the man through his music.

In 1998, famed Beatles producer George Martin marked his retirement by producing In My Life, an album of favorite performers paired with his favorites Beatles tunes. For the title track, he selected one of the voices I consider among the greatest in the English-speaking world. Here’s Sean Connery and his recitation of “In My Life,” the song that finally touched what I felt about John Lennon that long-ago day. It’s today’s Saturday Single.

One Survey Dig: 12-7-67

Friday, December 7th, 2018

My plans for playing “What’s At No. 100?” fell through today, as both December 7 charts I looked at came from years that we’ve recently examined: 1968 (earlier this week) and 1974 (a week ago). So I regrouped and asked the search function at the Airheads Radio Survey Archive to give me surveys from December 7, 1967, from which I’d choose one to examine.

I got surveys from Los Angeles, Peterborough (Ontario), New York City, Boston, Orlando, Detroit/Dearborn, St. Louis, Chicago, and Phoenix. So . . . let’s see what shows up among the forty records in the Super Hits at WHOO in Orlando. The top five were:

“(The Lights Went Out In) Massachusetts” by the Bee Gees
“Hello, Goodbye” by the Beatles
“Daydream Believer” by the Monkees
“Snoopy’s Christmas” by the Royal Guardsmen
“Woman, Woman” by Union Gap feat. Gary Puckett

Not bad, except for the novelty of “Snoopy’s Christmas.” I enjoyed the earlier “Snoopy vs. The Red Baron,” and in fact had a copy of it that I got from Leo Rau, the jukebox jobber who lived across the alley (and the record itself might be in the various boxes where I keep about a hundred 45s). But on an artistic level, I always thought (even from the age of fourteen) that the Royal Guardsmen should have let the matter lie there. But the Royal Guardsmen, along with the writers – George David Weiss and Hugo & Luigi – and the producers at Gernhard Enterprises were, of course, thinking commercially. And they did well with the sequel, spending – if I’m reading the data in Joel Whitburn’s Top Pop Singles correctly – five weeks atop the Christmas singles chart.

(Yah Shure, if I’ve got that wrong, please enlighten me.)

Anyway, back to Orlando: The first thing of interest that I note is a record titled “Paper Man” by a group called Noah’s Ark. There’s no information about the group in the Whitburn book. The notes at YouTube tell us that Noah’s Ark hailed from Tampa, Florida, and had three singles released. At Discogs.com, we learn that the first two were on Decca and the final one was on Liberty. “Paper Man” isn’t bad, but its Beatlesque sound is something that thousands of other bands were doing at the time.

One notch down from “Paper Man” we find Wilson Pickett’s two-sided single, “Stag-O-Lee/I’m In Love.” The A-side rocks a little and the B-side sways on the dance floor, but they’re just okay. Unlike the Noah’s Ark single, Pickett’s B-side did make the Billboard charts: “Stag-O-Lee” went to No. 22 (and to No. 13 on the magazine’s R&B chart) and “I’m In Love” reached No. 45 (and No. 4 R&B).

Heading further down on the WHOO Super Hits, we find Ray Charles’ cover of the Beatles’ “Yesterday” at No. 21. It’s good (and I’m tempted to add “of course” to that assessment; I mean, we’re talking ’bout Ray Charles here). Charles’ cover went to No. 25 in the Hot 100 and to No. 9 on the R&B chart.

I’m not sure how often we’ve talked about Dean Martin during these eleven-plus years, but it’s not been often. But there, at No. 36 on the Super Hits survey is Deano with “In The Misty Moonlight.” It sways nicely and gently, rhyming “moonlight” with “firelight,” and Martin’s smooth tones make it work. I likely have heard “In The Misty Moonlight” before, because it went to No. 2 on the Billboard Easy Listening chart (No. 46 on the Hot 100), and easy listening sounds were what I gravitated to back in 1967.

One final thing I’ll note from the WHOO Super Hits from fifty-one years ago today: The Super Hit Album of the Week was listed at “Ravi Shankar at Monterey.” The album’s full title was actually Ravi Shankar At The Monterey International Pop Festival; it went to No. 43 on the Billboard 200. Here’s a clip showing some of Shankar’s performance at the festival, starting with a few scenes away from the stage. I do not know if this performance is on the album.