Label / Cat. No: Sacred SAC 5061
First Released: 1972

What The Album Blurb Says…

For a number of years now Jim Roberts and Norma Zimmer have provided moments of unusual enjoyment for millions of Americans. In the world of pure entertainment, longevity is synonymous with popular response. Norma and Jim have been premier performers for many years now courtesy of us, the American people, and Lawrence Welk. Mr. Welk ultimately decides who the performers will be; we feel his choice is just right!

This is the third album by Norma and Jim. Their style of singing seems perfectly matched – it’s as comfortable as a pair of gloves. they blend beautifully singing some of the most popular gospel songs of the day – and some songs that are ageless. HIS NAME IS WONDERFUL is a favourite and is performed by mass choirs around the world. thank you Audrey Mieir, for the inspiration with which you’ve graced the world! I wonder how often BEYOND THE SUNSET has been sung, played, whistled, and used as a source of comfort since Virgil Brock first penned the lovely lyric some years ago. You will enjoy having this recording in your home.

The performances of hymns on TV by Jim and Norma have opened a door that has given many additional thousands an opportunity to hear them in person; in hymn festivals, in concerts, as solo performers in Billy Graham Crusades, and in churches everywhere.

the creative arrangements on this album are by Buryl Red. Mr. Red is gifted in many areas of music, one of which is the art of arranging. you will also hear his lovely song entitled HIS GENTLE LOOK.

KURT KAISER

What I Say

I know, I know. When I bought this album I had a tiny sliver of hope that this was going to actually be about somebody called ‘Wonderful’. You know, in the same vein as ‘A boy named Sue’. I mean, there are some unusual names about. I once knew someone called Zachariah Puddlechuck, and that would make a great name for an album – ‘His Name Is Zachariah Puddlechuck’. But no, with crushing inevitability, this turned out to be an album of Christian songs, extolling the virtue of some chap name of Jesus. Or Wonderful. I’m still not sure which.

The sleeve notes warrant a bit of a further look. Firstly, longevity is apparently synonymous with popular response, apparently. Well look at Cliff Richard for a start. He’s been around since the Pilgrim Fathers, and who wants to listen to his records? Oh yes, my Mother-in-Law. Alright then, maybe Jonathan King would be a better example. There’s a man who is pretty much universally unpopular but who won’t stop making his bloody songs.

Also, who is the Lawrence Welk character who stands head and shoulders above the American People then? Well, you can see for yourself, but seeing as this was released by London label, and I’ve managed to go 37 years without ever hearing his name even casually mentioned before, I’m prepared to stick my neck out and say that that’s going to be pretty meaningless to a lot of Brits. Apologies of course to all those people better informed and educated than I…

However, I am most concerned by the line ‘You will enjoy having this recording in your home’. Is it me, or does that sound more like a command than a recommendation. Maybe it’s the Teutonic tone of Kurt Kaiser’s comment that scare the living bewonderful out me, but I’m scared. I’m scared because I have that album in my home, and I didn’t (and don’t) enjoy it. Will Mr. Kaiser come round in the dead of night, drag me off, and leave me bound and gagged and listening to his sacred music compositions. I sincerely hope not.

The music sounds like a grown-up Elaine & Derek – a collection of sweet Christian tunes which all merge into one. I’ve always found that Christian music tends to err on the side of dull. Actually, there’s a challenge for you – are there any Christian music albums that won’t bore me to tears? A prize for anyone who can find one. Anyway, as I was saying, this album features 9 samey songs.

Ah, but I hear you cry, “but there are 10 songs on this album, surely”. Well, yes there are. Just as you think you can’t take any more sweetness, side two starts with ‘Sweet, Sweet Spirit’. This song has A COUNTRY TWANG. Not enough to be exciting or offensive, of course, but just enough to lift the tedium. It was at this point that I thought that this might yet have some saving grace – a sub-Carpenters kitsch that might just make this album worth something to me.

But it wasn’t to be.

All too quickly it sank back into the banal. I mean, yes, their voices are fine, the arrangements are a bit saccharine for my tastes and seem to my untrained ears to be somewhere between Andrew Lloyd Webber and Disney soundtracks. But it’s all soooooo bland.

There is however one very positive point about this album. It clocks in at just under 28 minutes. I tell you, I’ll never have that half hour back again, but I was far more in the mood after it to thank Wonderful, if only for not having made the album a double.

Tracks

Side 1

1. His Name Is Wonderful
2. Every Moment Of Every Day
3. He Lifted Me
4. When I Kneel Down To Pray
5. I Would Be Like Jesus

Side 2

1. Sweet, Sweet Spirit
2. His Gentle Look
3. Take Up Thy Cross
4. He Touched Me
5. Beyond The Sunset

Final score:

2 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Ebony Records – ERC1
First Released: 1978

What The Album Blurb Says…

Carl Gibson, being of Cherokee Indian descent, is one of the most fiercely independent men I know, (this being a typical Indian trait). He created this record almost entirely alone and unaided. It has been my privilege to witness a great talent at work. His “Sessions” in the studio would make good writing for a “Best Seller” alone. His moods during the recording, the anguish when he fell short of his aims, his great elation when “things” went right. He is voted by Opinion Poll as one of the World’s leading “Country Fingerstyle Guitarists”, to me, after watching him, this is an understatement!!! His Vocal Range is second to none. To see him “LIVE” is sensational, but it’s impossible to appreciate his great talent by just one or even two performances. He created this Album with just his voice, one electric guitar, one acoustic guitar, bass and a tambourine, and his deep determination to ‘achieve’. Well, he certainly has achieved, in this case, a more beautiful portrayal of Vocal and Instrumental talent than I’ve ever heard in this field before. His outstanding arrangements of ‘Ghost Riders’ and ‘Skip-a-Rope” are, I’m sure, going to be among the biggest hits in the field of Country, since they were first written two decades ago. I may add at this stage, that he puts great store by his choice of sound engineer Des Bennett, the only other person to work with Carl on the Album. He acknowledges Des to be certainly one of the best in Britain today…

Carl has just one particular life-long friend who has recently become his co-producer and adviser, Jeff Purnell. In General Production, Research, Publicity Promotions and the fiercely competitive field of Marketing, Jeff has no equal! He handles all of these with a quiet but extremely powerful driving force, as well as being an influence on Carl, which proves a steadying effect. Every decade carries a provincial “Star Maker”. I believe Jeff Purnell to be in this category.

“Chapter One” can only pave the way to Chapter Two, Chapter Th…..

WATCH FOR THEM….

PATTI NOBLE

What I Say

I would have thought it a pretty basic requirement that the person writing your sleeve notes should probably like you. It can only help to sell your record if you get a kind word or two extolling your virtues, and saying what a great singer / musician / human being you are. At first glance, it seems that Patti Noble is doing a fantastic job at selling Carl Gibson – if you take the gushing prose at face value, you’d think that here was a talent unparalleled in the Country Music field, that Patti had discovered a new Dylan or McCartney.

But look a bit closer. He’s described variously as ‘fiercely independent’ (read: stubborn, awkward and impossible to work with), has only one life-long friend (is anti-social), and needs a ’steadying effect’ (is difficult to manage). Underneath the high praise, I think that Patti’s had just about all she can of Carl’s artistic temperament, and this is her chance to let the world know what he’s really like. She’d have been more honest if she’d just scrawled ‘I think this man is an absolute shit’ across the back of the album.

Oh well, I can’t vouch for his character, but I hardly think it’s surprising that a Cherokee might harbour a tendency towards fierce independence. You can hardly blame them.

Of course, talk about Native American musicians, and thoughts turn immediately to Jimmy Carl Black. What do you mean who? Jimmy Carl Black was a member of Frank Zappa’s original ‘Mother’s of Invention’ which in my eyes elevates him to hero status without question. Oops – I’ve given to much away. Anyway, my mate Shaun, through a series of ‘too complicated to go into now circumstances’ once let Jimmy sleep in his bed. Jimmy duly thanked Shaun by autographing his toilet door. When Shaun then moved house from Haringey to Lewes, the door moved with them. Some poor sod bought a nice house in London without a toilet door all because of Frank Zappa’s drummer.

Well, it’s not much of an anecdote, but at least it’s 100% true. And besides, it’s curious to notice that Carl and Jimmy share a moustache. Well, I don’t mean they have one between them, but they both wear the same style. I am ignorant of Indian ways, so I can’t venture an opinion as to whether it’s part of their cultural heritage, but personally I think it’s probably just a coincidence.

Anyway, back to the album. I think it was a brave assertion of Patti Noble’s that this ‘Chapter One’ would pave the way for future Chapters. I have to say, I’ve scoured the internet, and I can’t find any mention of Carl, let alone of Chapter’s Two, Three or beyond. I assume it’s safe to say that this was pretty much it, and that it failed to live up to the high ambitions that Carl held. It also strikes me that this being record catalog number ERC1 that this was probably something of a vanity project, and that Ebony Records didn’t survive (in this incarnation at least) very much after this album was released.

I mean, Carl has an OK voice – he can hold a tune which is more than I can. He seems to have quite a range, demonstrated in ‘Ghost Riders’ and ‘Rose Marie’ where the high notes are frankly scary. His guitar picking is fine. What more can I say? It’s fine.

But this album doesn’t make any kind of statement. It’s a competent musician playing it safe with a pile of standards. There’s no individuality, nothing to make this stand out against the other countless covers of ‘Ruby’ (Don’t Take Your Love To Town) or ‘Rose Marie’. I’m not searching for endless novelty, and there’s no point in change for the sake of it, but I think it goes some way to explaining why Carl Gibson isn’t remembered as an outstanding international artist. There is no character or personality in this album. It’s just those same old songs. Again.

If there is anything that marks this album out, it’s that Carl has a tendency to sound anguished. Yes, he does anguished very well. The cries of ‘Johnny , remember me’ closing the song of the same name takes that 60s schlock to a whole new level. But this anguish is best demonstrated on ‘Scarborough Fair’, my favourite track from this album. The ‘remember me to one who lives there’ no longer sounds like a request to send your best wishes, but an animal response to being forgotten by your true love. It actually made me stop in my tracks and listen, which was a nice contrast to the rest of the album.

If only he hadn’t followed it by an overly jangly and jolly version of ‘Ring of Fire’. The fool.

No Carl Gibson, I’m afraid, so here’s the original JCB instead…

Tracks

Side 1

1. Ghost Riders
2. Okie From Muskogee
3. Fight’n Side Of Me
4. Scarborough Fair
5. Ring Of Fire
6. Johnny Remember Me
7. Bobbie Magee

Side 2

1. Skip-a-Rope
2. There’ll Never Be
3. Rose Marie
4. Ruby
5. Lonesome Me
6. Spanish Eyes
7. Phoenix Arizona

Final score:

3 out of 10, (2 points for Scarborough Fair, 1 for Johnny Remember Me)

Label / Cat. No: Starline SRS 5134
First Released: Unknown – possibly early 70s

What The Album Blurb Says…

Robert Wilson was born in a Glasgow suburb in 1909 and from a very early age had the burning ambition to become a singer.

He first broke into the entertainment world when he bacame a memeber of a concert party at Rothsay, on the Isle of Bute. While savouring the applause that these rather small beginnings brought him, he had the good sense to realise that he needed years of study and hard work to reach the top of his chosen profession. To this end he joined and stayed with the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company for several years, touring America, Canada and Great Britiain, and from this he gained vast experience which was most valuable to his future career. In 1939 he decided that the time had come for him to enter the Variety scene as a solo artist – and how right his judgement proved to be. What with his magnificent voice, charming personality and superb stage presentation his success was almost immediate, and he soon became ‘top of the bill’ wherever he appeared. Not only was he starred in every medium of the entertainment world, but he was particularly acclaimed by exiled Scots both near and far who, like those in the Homeland, saw in his grand voice and fine physique the very embodiment of a true son of Scotland. No one wore the Kilt more proudly or better than he.

Much to the regret of all who heard him, Bob Wilson, as he was affectionately known to his many friends, died in 1964, but there remains a wealth of those great Scottish songs which he recorded during his lifetime and for which we have received many requests. The fourteen songs presented in this album illustrate why his was generally acclaimed to be “The voice of Scotland”.

T.D.

What I Say

There’s one thing that the Scots are very good at. Actually, before I get myself into trouble, I should point out that I’m sure that there are lots of things that Scots are good at. Lots and lots. Really. But one area in which they excel is being Scottish. I mean proper, professionally Scottish. How many ‘professional’ Welsh or Irish people can you think of? Max Boyce, Daniel O’Donnel, Terry Wogan maybe… People for whom one of their distinguishing features is their nationality. OK, now think of professional English people. I’ll give you Steven Fry, and I’ll accept David Niven, even though he’s dead. Any more…? No, see. And yet without putting any real effort into it, the Scots can proudly boast The Proclaimers, Billy Connolly, Moira Anderson, Harry Lauder, Sean Connery, Carol Smillie, and of course, the Krankies. OK, that may be stretching the definition of ‘proudly boast’, but I hope you get my point.

They say that the most Scottish part of Scotland is just over the border from England, where the difference between countries is clearly marked. Tartan and Saltires everywhere. It seems that the Scots have a very clear cultural identity, and the business nous to translate that into profitable entertainment. Our Robert Wilson (or Bob, as we must call him) falls strictly into this ‘Professionally Scottish’ category. You only have to look at the album cover to know what you’re getting. A burly man in a skirt, sorry, a kilt, his face red from the harsh highland wind rolling off the moors and the whisky he has on his porridge. His pose is also extremely Scottish, though I can’t quite figure out why. I assume it’s meant to reflect Bob about to launch into a Highland Fling – right hand tucked in his belt, left knee slightly raised. Tunic and tie making him look like a policeman about to knee some poor suspect in the knackers. Delightful.

And the songs don’t disappoint. Well, they do if you don’t like maudlin songs about your wet, dour homeland, but let’s assume for a moment that they’re the very reason you bought this album. The choice of songs is absolutely perfect. It’s ‘The Greatest Scottish Songs In The Whole World Ever’ for our parent’s generation. Some of the arrangements however are… well, on the camp side of traditional, shall we say. When I first listened to ‘Scotland The Brave’ (which you’d expect to be the standout track here), I was transported back to a Saturday evening in the 70s, with the Two Ronnies about to do their musical number dressed as a pair of Highland Infantrymen making suggestive songs about Gay Gordons. The arrangement is pure Ronnie Hazlehurst. Actaully, it is the standout track on the album, because it’s the only one that sounds vaguely happy or interesting. The rest conjure up a wet Wednesday in Aberdeen with incredibly clarity.

The problem is that I don’t think Bob sings very well. His voice, described elsewhere on this internet of ours as a ‘rich baritone’ sounds to my uneducated ears as a thin, weedy and reedy baritone. That doesn’t even always hold the tune particularly well. This album was released after he’d died. I have to wonder if it was also recorded then too….

This man was called ‘The Voice Of Scotland’ which is a bit worrying. I could accept ‘The Voice of Arbroath’ which would allow for bigger and better voices to represent the nation. So don’t judge the Scots too harshly. Though I do wonder who’s the ‘Ears of Scotland’.

However, I do have one small niggle. From 1997 to 1999 I lived in Galway, and I’m sure, absolutely positive that it was on the West Coast of Ireland, and not in Scotland. It seems therefore that this song is an IMPOSTER, and should be removed immediately. Unless they’re playing the Celtic card, in which case of course, everything is fair game.

By the way, our Bob Wilson, is not this Bob Wilson, one time goalie for Arsenal…

Nor is he this Bob Wilson, who’s an English Lecturer, and posessor of one of the finest hair confections known to man…

And this is the Krankies. I think the Scottish Government should apologies immediately.

Tracks

Side 1

1. Westering Home
2. Scotland The Brave
4. Down In The Glen
5. Bonnie Mary Of Argyle
6. Marchin’ Thru’ The Glen
7. The Black Watch

Side 2

1. The Gay Gordons
2. The Road To The Isles
3. Hills O’ The Clyde
4. Galway Bay
5. My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose
6. The Gathering Of The Clans
7. My Scottish Homeland.

Final score:

4 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Hallmark CHM 624
First Released: 1969

What The Album Blurb Says…

For those of you who are as yet unacquainted with the happy looking gentleman on the right, permit us to introduce you to Mr. Bob Blaine

Early biographical details can be found on the sleeve of his previous album ‘BOB BLAINE SINGS COUNTRY MUSIC FOR BEDTIME’ – Hallmark HM. 581. Suffice it therefore for us to say that he hails from Liverpool, has had years of experience with many name bands, and, as you will discover, he is a very fine singer.

Bob is considered by many people in the music business to be a walking encyclopeadia on standard songs and for this album he has personally selected the best, and most romantic of the songs of the Islands and just for good measure has thrown in three brand new ones that he wrote himself, including the title song ‘HAWAIIAN HONEYMOON.’

So if you want to escape the weather, the tax man, or anything else that bothers you, may we suggest you get the album, go home, slice a pineapple, light a sunlamp, turn on the record player, sit in your favourite chair, play the record, close your eyes and you’re off to Hawaii – Bon Voyage.

DON TODD

What I Say

Last time I admitted my ignorance regarding national musical exports, I managed to (quite understandably) ruffle a few Canadian feathers. As I pointed out at the time, any nation that gives us Celine Dion should surely face international sanctions. Anyway, I confess an equal lack of knowledge on the musical history of Hawaii, and shan’t compound my ignorance with ill-informed commentary…..

Oh, who am I kidding. That’s my stock-in-trade – ill informed opinion based on incomplete facts and minimal research. So, what do I know about Hawaiian music? Well, there’s the Ukelele, which isn’t what George Formby played (that was a hybrid between a ukelele and a banjo, and was quite seriously known as a banjolele. See, I do know some things….) Beyond that, I get stuck, although I did like that Israel Kamakawiwo’ole song they used in that advert.

And, er…. that’s about it I think. Except to say, I really don’t think that what we’re presented here bears much relation to real Hawaiian music. Not least because it’s been recorded by some Scouser who’s probably never been further west than Llandudno. To my uneducated ears, it sounds like a series of slow tempo Country Music songs with a bit of ukelele and slide guitar stuck in the mix for good measure. I’m prepared to accept that this might be the genuine Hawaiian sound, but I seriously doubt it.

The songs really do all sound the same – same tempo, same arrangements, more or less the same melody, with just a couple of exceptions. “Black Is The Colour Of My True Loves Hair”, despite sounding like a Donovan lyric is quite a dark, moody piece, clearly showing the harder side of our Scally Bob.

The second slightly odd song on an album called Hawaiian Honeymoon is ‘Flower of Tahiti’. I had to go and check on Google Earth, but I’m right. Tahiti really isn’t anywhere near Hawaii. But hey, those South Sea Islands are all the same, aren’t they….?

In 1969 Merseyside, Hawaii, and indeed Tahiti, must’ve seemed endlessly exotic, and they were therefore prepared to accept any old tat with a Hawaiian tag just to get themselves a taste of the islands. But knowledge of other cultures was a little more…. basic than perhaps it is today (anybody for My Boomerang Won’t Come Back? Anybody….). I’m sure the English record buying public were prepared to believe that this light country froth really was the sound of the islands.

And clearly Hawaii is synonymous with romance, lust and dusky maidens if the cover’s anything to go buy. Despite the title track being about the romance and special nature of taking your new bride to Hawaii, the cover depicts a new bride in a revealing negligee, clutching a book called ‘Honeymoon Hints’, looking shocked because her husband has lured four Hawaiian beauties to the boudoir using only his Ronco Slide Guitar. Looking shocked and mildly put out is probably the best reaction he could have hoped for – I’m pretty sure if I’d lured four dusky maidens to the bedchamber on my honeymoon I wouldn’t be a father of three now…

All in all this is a bit of a wallpaper album. It’s so gentle it just washes over you so that you almost don’t notice, like a warm breeze in Waikiki. Not that I’ve been to Waikiki, but I have been to Llandudno.

Finally, there’s not much out there about ol’ Bob Blaine. In fact I could find nothing, which is strange considering how he’d worked with many ‘name bands’. I do wonder why, if they’re so famous, why didn’t they tell us exactly who Bob had been working with. However, in my trawl of the internet (or quick search for those of you who prefer accuracy), I found out that you almost certainly don’t want to go and Google “Bob Blaine” +singer, and look at the top result. That’s not our Bob Blaine, and that’s definitely not Hawaii, no sir. Seriously NSFW.

And this is how to do it right:-

And this is a bit of banjolele for you good people.

Tracks

Side 1

1. Hawaiian Honeymoon
2. Hawaiian Wedding Song
3. Song Of The Islands
4. South Sea Island Magic
5. Blue Shadows And White Gardenias
6. Beautiful Dreamer

Side 2

1. Aloha Oe
2. Hawaiian Memories
3. Moon Of Manakoora
4. Black Is The Colour Of My True Love’s Hair
5. Flower Of Tahiti

Final score:

5.5 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Stereo Gold Award MER408
First Released: 1976

What The Album Blurb Says…

The truck driving man is about as individual and as special a breed of man as you’re ever likely to meet. He’s a man used to long silences broken only by the soft hum of wheels that burn up the miles between lonely townships. He has his own set of driving rules, his own language and his own songs. They’re songs that truly reflect the nomadic life that he leads and the situations that lie around each bend in the road, songs with titles like “Soft Shoulders and Dangerous Curves”, “Burning Rubber” and “Bumper to Bumper”. The truck driving man may sing, hum or whistle them as he drives along that long black ribbon of tarmac towards his destination. Now you can share these songs of the road, as Big Dave and the Tennessee Tailgaters play and sing the tunes that have their own special message for each truck driving man… wherever he may be.

What I Say

I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m as sure as I can be that this album is a cheap and nasty record cynically trying to cash in on the 1970’s trucker / Convoy fad. Yes, shocking I know, but I’m willing to bet there there is no such person as ‘BIG DAVE’, let alone the Tennessee Tailgaters.

Let’s look at the evidence shall we? Firstly, there’s the fact that BIG DAVE isn’t being used to push this album. The biggest text on the album sleeve is ‘Truck Driving Man’. Poor BIG DAVE is relegated to a small corner of the tarmac, and his Tennessee Tailgaters get an even smaller point size. If you go looking for BIG DAVE on the internet (along with the TTs, of course), the only reference you’ll find is to this album. Hmmmm…. sounds mighty fishy to me.

Secondly, Big Dave manages to sound like a very convincing woman on ‘Soft Shoulders and Dangerous Curves’, probably because it is sung by a woman. So unless BIG DAVE is either a) an hermaphrodite with an ability to switch voices at will, b) a very good impressionist or c) has an incredible range, then I don’t think he alone tackles the vocals. Fair enough, it may be one of his Tennessee Tailgaters, but as there are sadly very few details on the record sleeve, it’s hard to tell.

But the most damning evidence for how nastily this album has been thrown together to hang on to the ‘Convoy’ fad of ‘76 is all connected to that particular song.

Exhibit A – the big splash across the young ladies nether regions saying ‘including CONVOY’. Clearly the makers of this album are using that song as the attention grabber. After all, why else paste those words across her mimsy. However….. there is a further implication by placing the splash there. It’s suggesting censorship, that the young lady leaning suggestively on the cab of the truck may be showing more than she should.

But look! Thanks to the internet, I found a copy of the original, American version of this album, and LOOK! No splash, no ‘including CONVOY’, and no flesh needing to be censored….

Exhibit B – some simple maths. On the front cover it lists 7 songs, and says ‘& 4 Others’

By my reckoning that makes 11 songs. But look at the track listing…. six songs on each side. That always made 12 when I was at school, which means they’ve stuck an extra song on there. I’m betting it’s Convoy.

Exhibit C – The vocalist on CONVOY does not sound at all like BIG DAVE. In fact, he sounds completely different to BIG DAVE, to the degree whereby I would argue with some confidence that it’s not BIG DAVE at all, but some completely other person.

Exhibit D – The credits on the album label are all intact for every other song. Every single one. Except Convoy. Why would that be, unless it was a last minute addition to the album.

Now, I may be going out on a limb here, but I reckon that this album, originally released in America, had a version of Convoy stuck on for the British market becuase the timing meant that Convoy was fresh in the mind of the British music buyer, and this was a dirty, nasty, cynical way of selling their grubby little record. BIG DAVE? Big FRAUD, I say.

Which means I haven’t spoken about the music (mostly Country with a couple of Bluegrass instrumentals), the inability for the culture to translate (American Knights of the Road on the wide open plains vs. a bloke from Dudley in overalls sitting on the A14 to catch the night ferry to Zeebrugge) or how this music is inappropriate (instrumentals telling of the life of the truck drivin’ man? How does that work. Oh, and that ‘Diesel Smoke Sally’ seems to be about a woman who’ll sleep with any trucker who passes through her cafe. Charming).

But you don’t need to know about all that, when it’s all been built on such flimsy foundations. You know, I never thought I’d have to turn detective, but I’m glad that I’ve saved you from this charlatan. You may thank me at your leisure.

Tracks

Side 1

1. Truck Driving Man
2. Gimme Forty Acres
3. Soft Shoulders and Dangerous Curves
4. Burnin’ Rubber
5. King Of The Road
6. T-Town Tailgaitin’

Side 2

1. Convoy
2. Six Days On The Road
3. Giddy Up-Go
4. Diesel Smoke Sally
5. Bumper To Bumper
6. Girl On The Billboard

Final score:

1 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: BUK BULP 2000
First Released: 1976

What The Album Blurb Says…

None. Once I again, I feel cheated. And so should you.

What I Say

These are the things that you need to know about Tony Monopoly.

1. He looks like my mate Brian.
2. He used to be a monk (Tony, that is. Not Brian. He’s never been a monk).
3. He’s the only person to be named after a board game to release an album named after another one…

4. Monopoly isn’t even his real name. His real name is ‘Monopoli’. I might be being a bit picky here.
5. He lost his virginity to a Go-Go Dancer called ‘Big Pretzel’
6. He’s dead.

I find Number 6 the most surprising in many ways. You see, I was kind of aware of Tony Monopoly, in that I knew the name from my childhood. Actually, that was it. I knew the name. But it’s one of those timeless names that’s going to play the club circuits forever. And it turns out he died in 1995. That’s 13 years I’ve been going round quite happily still thinking I might get a chance to see him live in concert, whereas in fact I’ve been kidding myself. Damn.

Having said that, if he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have been able to find out facts number 2 and 4. Tom Lehrer once said that the obituary of Alma Mahler was the most exciting he’d ever read. For me, that honour most definitely goes to Tony Monopoly’s. Allow me to quote you the first paragraph:-

Tony Monopoly was a former Carmelite monk who abandoned the contemplative life and went on to win six consecutive editions of Opportunity Knocks. Famous for his white suit, medallion and luxuriant chest hair, he was frequently compared with Tom Jones and Englebert Humperdinck. Monopoly was the youngest and least successful of this awesome triumvirate, but the only one with a sound grasp of the teachings of Saint Teresa of Avila.

Genius.

The second reason I chose this album is because it’s been touched by the hand of Tony. Look…. an autograph. Not one of your insignificant squiggles – Tony takes the effort to write his name in full, legibly, but with a definite flamboyance.

And just look how he signs himself… “Sincerely….” I can feel the sincerity oozing out of every pen stroke, and every groove on the vinyl.

To be honest, I thought I wasn’t going to enjoy this album – a bunch of fairly obvious cover versions by a talent show winner – not the kind of thing I’d normally go for. But I found myself singing along during the first song, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It is fairly corny, and that sincerity oozes and drips in every phrase Tony sings, but if you want to be entertained by someone who can belt out a tune, you could do a lot worse than let Mr. Monopoly into your life.

The arrangements are a bit odd though – it must be difficult for an artist to make a song his own, and a surefire shortcut is to make an unusual or different version of a song. But really… ‘I Believe’ with a proto-disco backbeat. I’m not sure I approve. And our Tony (see, I’m getting ever more familiar…) also has a number of voices to help differentiate the songs. In ‘You’ve Got A Friend’ we have intimate, gentle, quiet Tony. ‘I’ve Got A Name’ sees bombastic Tony, and ‘I Believe’ gives us the real crooner that Tony was trying to release.

In later years fortunes don’t appear to have been too good…. long stints on cruise liners seem to have been the norm, and there was a brief re-flowering of Tony’s career when he got the lead in Cameron Mackintosh’s musical version of Moby Dick (sadly, no. I’m not joking…). Oddly enough, it got scathing reviews. I can’t think why….

Oh yes, hang on. It’s because it was crap. YouTube has again been my friend, and I offer you Tony Monopoly as Captain Ahab. Please don’t let this be his legacy. Remember him as the hairy chested eye-candy for ladies of a certain age that he was.

And in drag in the same show (from 0:43)

Tracks

Side 1

1. I’ve Got A Name
2. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow
3, I Have To Say I Love You In A Song
4, Macarthur Park
5. I Believe
6. Walk On By

Side 2

1. Bless You
2. Every Time I Sing A Love Song
3, You’ve Got A Friend
4. One More Mile (And Darling I’ll Be Home)
5. My Foolish Heart
6. Rock ‘N’ Roll (I Gave You The Best Years Of My Life)

Final score:

8 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Columbia PCC-80105
First Released: 1985

What The Album Blurb Says…

None. Boo! But, but…. when reading through the lyric sheet, I came across this gem…

“Are we alone? Erich Von Daniken asked us to believe the temples and pyramids are proof that earth was visited in its embryonic stage by an ancient intelligence.

In writing the lyrics for the interconnecting songs on ‘Alien Shores’, I was inspired by the thoughts of unexplained mysteries of our past, which may never be answered. But Hungry Eyes will perpetually seek the truth.

What I Say

This album has purged me of my guilt. You see, in 1993 I bought a pair of slacks from a gentlemen’s outfitters in Albert Road, Morecambe. I believe the colour was described as ’stone’, and I wore those stone slacks. Often.

With hindsight, I had tortured myself in the knowledge that they were the worst pair of trousers I had ever bought, and probably the worst pair of trousers in the world ever. Yes, they reall were that bad. But then, oh happy day, I slipped the inner sleeve out of this album, and what did I find? This…

Those really are the worst slacks ever to have been created. And not just one pair of bad slacks, but FOUR! That’s a 100% hit rate for the Platinum Blondes. Combined with those four nasty white jackets, we have the perfect snapshot of 1985. I believe this photo should be kept in an archive somewhere as an important historical document. And of course to serve as a warning to future generations.

And try as I might, I can’t not speak about the hair. Back-combed, sprayed, bleached, coiffed, and… wonder of wonders, the bloke on the right has one of the best expressions of the mullet that I have ever seen. This is a man at the top of his hair game, and yet he looks the most uncomfortable of the four. Somehow his face just wasn’t made for those times. Oh….. and is there a hint of black eye-liner there…. Marvellous.

As far as I can tell, with no research whatsoever, Canada has produced only 3 notable musical talents that have become known outside their country. And considering that two of those are Bryan Adams and Celine Dion, you’d think they’d learn to keep their music to themselves. (For information, the third is Barenaked Ladies, for whom I maintain a soft spot). But in the mid-eighties, it seems that Canada was at the forefront of pop music. Platinum Blonde have got everything needed to be a pop sensation in 1985. They’ve got the clothes and the hair, they have the ability to pose and to brood under their floppy fringes. They even have perfectly competent 80s style pop songs, so why oh why weren’t they massive.

Well, they were. Really. This album went quintuple platinum in Canada. For a brief, glorious moment, Platinum Blonde were major stars on the Canadian scene. Which illustrates again how subjective I am in choosing these albums. I would consider this record to be obscure and unknown, but that’s just in my experience. Given a different time and place, this was monstrously successful. Only goes to show how much I have to learn….

But the other reason I believe they weren’t more successful outside of Canada lies in a description given to the band of ‘The Canadian Duran Duran’. On reading this I’d assumed that it was because of the look, and maybe the style, but no. Most of the songs on this album could easily have been written by the Durannies. The blokes voice (I really can’t be bothered now to go and check his name. Oh, that’s a bit rude isn’t it. Hold on…. It’s Mark Holmes) even sounds like Simon Le Bon. And there’s the rub. Did the world really need two Duran Durans? I think not. So outside of Canda (where I assume their homegrown status helped enormously), they were pretty much redundant.

It seems that they keep plodding on, and there are interesting photos showing the band playing on a small stage outside the Hard Rock Cafe in Ottawa to about 12 people and a dog in 1999. And not a mullet in sight.

Oh, and I forgot Alanis Morissette, though I think that probably only adds to my argument.

Tracks

Side 1

1.Situation Critical
2. Crying Over You
3.Red Light
4. It Ain’t Love Anyway
5. Somebody Somewhere

Side 2

1. Lost In Space
2.Temple Of the New Born
3. Holy Water
4. Animal
5.Hungry Eyes

Final score:

5 out of 10 – not bad, not good, not original, not my cup of tea

Label / Cat. No: EMI Music For Pleasure MFP 1276
First Released: This compilation 1968

What The Album Blurb Says…

Paddy Roberts is a large man with a quiet voice and a gentle manner that belie his ironic but dangerously sharp sense of humour. In his time he’s been a divorce lawyer, a club pianist, an airline pilot and a ’song plugger’, but we all know him now as the singer, in a voice with an appealing tendency to go off-key, or some of the wittiest and wickedest songs ever to entrench themselves in the hit parade.

Born in a remote part of South Africa in the year the King Edwared VII died, Paddy was sent to England for his schooling, but returned to South Africa where after graduating he took up a law practice, “making a speciality of undefended divoce cases”. But he had started to write songs at university, and when the opportunity arose he worked his passage on a sailing ketch to Britain, where he landed with 30/- in his pocket. Taking on odd jobs to keep himself, he began his assault on the British song industry. He was first heard on the BBC in a series called ‘Songs You Might Never Have Heard’. As a member of a vocal group featured on the show, the ‘Tin Pan Alley Trio’, he was beginning to make finacial progress when war broke out.

During the war, Paddy flew with the R.A.F. across the Atlantic. to Russia, in the Western Desert and with Coastal Command, and when peace came he became a transatlantic pilot for B.O.A.C. But in 1950 he returned to song writing, and reached the number on spot in 1954 with ‘Softly, Softly’, which was recorded by Ruby Murray. Then he made the first of the records featuring his own singing of his more saucy songs which were to keep him at the top of the charts for months on end, and he rapidly became a top cabaret star. Since then he has been very busy with appearances throughout Britain, and he has been back to sing in South Africa, but he has also found time to work as vice-chairman of the Performing Rights Society and Chairman of the Song Writer’s Guild.

Here on a newly-recorded L.P., Paddy Roberts sings again the songs, spicy, sophisticated, some the slightest shade of blue, which have made his name a byword for wit and entertainment. Starting with that classic tale of our time, ‘The Ballad of Bethnal Green’, these songs will stimulate the most jaded spirits, and bring a wry smile to the most world-weary lips.

What I Say

This album came as a complete surprise, and a pleasant one at that. Judging by the cover (as I always do), I’d assumed that the lewdly winking totty and the ‘For Adults Only’ subtitle would have put it in the same category as this half remembered album from my childhood…

But no! Not even close. Paddy Roberts provides us with lyrically dense songs, in a traditionally Britishly witty manner that can only really be described as whimsical, or perhaps quaint. No, I’ll stick with whimsical.

This is curiously British stuff in the arrangements and delivery, even if Paddy is himself a South African. After all, if that all-English icon Sid James can be South African, so can Paddy.

I can still remember the day when I first heard Tom Lehrer. Actually that’s a bit of a lie, because I couldn’t give you an exact date if you were to get aggressive and press me for one. But it must’ve been late 1987 or early 1988. I was given a third or fourth generation copy of ‘An Evening Wasted’ and ‘That Was The Year That Was’ by a much older colleague, and it opened my eyes to how ‘unfashionable’ music could really tickle my fancy. We had intelligent lyrics, pastiche tunes and unashamedly bad puns. It was wonderful. My mother certainly approved, and even asked for her own copies….

…which makes me wonder why she waited a further 17 years to tell me about Jake Thackray. If ever there was a direct line between styles, then this was it. OK, so Jake was steeped in the French ‘chanson’ tradition, and didn’t have the sharp political / satirical edge of Tom Lehrer, but there was the same tunefulness, lyrical dexterity and humour in both.

Paddy Roberts reminds me a great deal of Jake Thackray, both in the structure of his songs, lyrical content and style. I can see a musical family tree that descends from Gilbert and Sullivan’s ‘Patter’ songs, through Noel Coward, Paddy, Tom and Jake through to Benny Hill, back into rock sensibility with Ian Dury and finally someone like Eminem. Fine, call me pretensious if you like but a) I bet nobody else has compared Eminem to Gilbert and Sullivan, and b) the volume of lyrics crammed into song, the humour, the wordplay the linguistic dexterity are all comparable. Remember, you heard it here first.

The suggestion that this album is in any way rude or ‘for adults only’ is laughable today. I’m not sure that even when this compilation was released in 1968 his work would have been considered risque. It’s definitely from a different era, and there is one repeated ‘bloody’ in ‘L’anglais Avec Son Sang Froid’ which would have shocked my Grandfather, so maybe he was considered a bit wild. But the adult themes are so gently alluded to that unless you’ve got a filthy mind, I’m sure you could have played these to your maiden aunt with the minimum of censorship. For example, allow me to present to you the lyrics to ‘Love In A Mist’:-

When I was a little wolf cub and you were a brownie,
We always remembered our good turn each day.
First it was your turn, and then it was my turn,
And life was so wonderful and carefree and gay.

©1959 Essex Music

See, not exactly hardcore now, is it. Obviously some of the stuff reflects the era in which it was recorded, and the gentle mockery of homosexuality in ‘The Lavender Cowboy’ seems out of place now, but I suppose you have to look at the album in the context of the era in which the songs were written. It seems odd now, but I’m sure modern life would’ve seemed odd to Paddy.

My only real complaint about this album is that ‘The Belle of Barking Creek’ is almost identical to his most famous number ‘The Ballad of Bethnal Green’ – check out the soundclips below to see what I mean. He’s not doing anything that countless others have done since in terms of finding a formula that works and sticking to it, but coming to his music fresh and hearing the two side by side, it just seems… lazy I suppose.

But I can’t possibly hold it against a man who released an album called ‘Songs For Gay Dogs’. What, you don’t believe me?

Tracks

Side 1

1.The Ballad Of Bethnal Green
2. Follow Me
3.Love In A Mist
4. Country Girl
5. The Big Dee-Jay
6. I Love Mary
7. Why Did It All Begin?

Side 2

1.The Belle Of Barking Creek
2. The Tattooed Lady
3. Don’t Upset The Little Kiddywinks
4. Love Isn’t What It Used To Be
5.The Lavender Cowboy
6.L’anglais Avec Son Sang Froid
7. What’s All This Fuss About Love?

Final score:

8.5 out of 10

Label / Cat. No: Pye Golden Guinea – GGL 0111
First Released: 1960s

What The Album Blurb Says…

Edmund Hockridge first came to London with the Royal Canadian Air Force in 1940, where he worked on the Allied Expeditionary Forces programme, making hundreds of broadcasts in the distinguished company of such artistes as David Niven, Robert Farnon, George Melachrino and the late Glenn Miller.

But Edmund, or ‘Ted’ as he is affectionately known to his countless admirers, was shortly to become known as a star in London’s West End. He had returned to Canada at the end of the war but came back to England in 1950 with recordings of his Canadian broadcasts. He was signed to BBC radio, and shortly afterwards successfully auditioned for the leading role in Carousel at Drury Lane.

Some three years and 1,300 performances later he left the show, played his first Royal Command Performance, and opened the very next day in Guys and Dolls at the London Coliseum!

Another 400 performances later he moved into the leading role of Cole Porter’s Can-Can at the Coliseum and in September 1955 co-starred with Joy Nichols and Max Wall in the Pajama Game. Three leading roles in three successive musicals at one theatre – an unprecendented record!

Pantomime, cabaret, variety, summer show, television – Edmund Hockridge has since successfully tackled them all. And here on the LP you will find treasured memories of this Canadian in London who has now become so much a part of the English scene.

What I Say

James Brown, the hardest working man in Showbusiness? I think not. We have a pretender to that title, and his name is Edmund Hockridge (which I think we’ll all agree sounds a lot more noble than the rather common ‘James Brown’)

When I first got this album, I assumed that our Edmund was a second string crooner, a novelty purely because of his nationality. Once again, it seems that my ignorance of musical history has got the better of me. Edmund Hockeridge was a star, albeit in Musical Theatre. It would seem he was the John Barrowman of his day (though clearly without the blatant homosexuality – after all, Edmund has a wife, Jackie, described on one website as ‘lovely’).

The cover shows a man I’m assuming to be Edmund, standing in Picadilly Circus at night, alone but thoughtful, smoking a cigarette under the glow of a streetlamp. While I agree that this has all the elements necessary to illustrate the concept of ‘A Canadian’ and ‘In London’, I have to ask who thought an album would fly off the shelves when it was, in large part, just a great big advert for Bovril. In Romantic Mood, eh? What you need mate is a cup of warming Beef extract. That’ll have the girls flocking to take you up on your Canadian charms. Guaranteed.

But the joy of picking records so randomly is that treasures are there to be found, and this is definitely one of them. Edmund (I can’t call him Ted – it seems so informal) has warm, rich, rounded Baritone, clearly perfect for his job in Musicals. It also does a fine job on the selection of songs here. It’s always nice to have a few songs you know, so that you can really judge the voice rather than being distracted by the novelty of the songs, and here we have a few standards.

He doesn’t take risks, but what he gives is a polished, professional performance that does indeed indicate that he’s in Romantic Mood (has anyone told Jackie?). On songs like ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ and ‘They Can’t Take That Away From Me’ you get him in full flight, belting out songs with all the restrained passion the early 60s would allow.

As I’ve often found, the best tracks on this type of album is saved for last. The string-laden, brass-honking, snare-brushing glory of ‘Brazil’ sweeps you up in it’s insistent latin beat, and Edmund pitches perfectly – brassy voice, excitement oozing out of every phrase, but able to turn in a gentle, subdued turn when required. I mean, I love this song anyway, but Edmund really does it proud.

I suppose ultimately this falls into the Easy Listening category – a much maligned and derided style of music, but this really is easy to listen to. Just let Edmund’s rich voice wash over you, and you could almost be in Picadilly with him, hiding in the shadows of doorways. Just remember to take some Bovril with you – it looks cold out there.

Tracks

Side 1

1.That Old Black Magic
2. Down By The River
3. S’Wonderful
4.Long Ago And Far Away
5. Robins And Roses
6.The Way You Look Tonight

Side 2

1.Love Is Here To Stay
2. They Can’t Take That Away From Me
3. Transatlantic Lullaby
4. Tonight
5. Some Enchanted Evening
6.Brazil

Final score:

8.5 out of 10 – I like his style…

Label / Cat. No: Sacred SAC 5064
First Released: 1972

What The Album Blurb Says…

SOUNDS OF FRESH WATERS are exciting new sounds from Merv and Merla Watson, two remarkable musicians, well-trained and refreshingly creative. The music from this husband-wife team is a rare find in its up-to-date lyrics and original sounds that communicates with any audience.

Merv and Merla are not like some folk singers you’ve heard. They have a different drive, an unusual commitment to their music and its message. The songs they sing are a part of them, for they have spent many long hours in composing, scoring, searching for the right words to please their audiences across their native Canada and the United States.

Merla is accomplished as a vocalist, pianist and violist. In 1962 she toured the Middle East as soloist with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation concert party entertaining U.N. troops. Merv, outstanding with the guitar and accordion, is a graduate of the University of Toronto and has taught music in the Toronto schools. Together the two originated the idea of the Schoolhouse Concerts in Toronto to stimulate interest in the performing arts as a means of Christian witnessing.

The concert series met with immediate success, as did Merv and Merla, as they sang their own folk music at each concert. Recognition for the two came quickly and they began touring with their folk-gospel music, receiving acclaim for their ability. Audiences everywhere responded enthusiastically to their music that moves naturally, uninhibited by tradition or boundaries.

This album is their finest work, sounds and feelings that are jubilant, some haunting in the contemplation of God, others crystal clear in lyric, all fresh and new, a symbol of their faith.

What I Say

I don’t think I’ve ever met or known of anyone called Merla. To my 30something English ears, there’s a certain exotic ring to the name. It conjures up 1950’s mid-west diners, gingham and bitter coffee. For all I know, it could have the same connotations as ‘Doris’ or ‘Mabel’ over here, but there is a certain glamour I can’t help but imagine.

The picture of Merla in a very 1972 dress with her racy gold shoes does nothing to dim my excitement. The only thing that can do that is to listen to the album.

I know that the job of the album blurb is to sell the album to the casual record browser, but you can’t help but wonder how they can promise so much and yet deliver so little. In the case of Merv and Merla, I had considered a line by line breakdown of their claims against the reality, but I can feel a rant coming on, and would need a couple of aspirin and a good long lie-down if I went down that route.

But there are four key issues that I think do need to be addressed:-

1. The up-to-date lyrics reflect a two-millenia old system of religious beliefs. Not the most up-to-date now, is it?
2. Communicates with any audience? Surely that’s the point of an audience, or am I missing something here?
3. Merla is “accomplished as a vocalist, pianist and violist”. So why picture her on the album cover holding a guitar, an instrument which you seem to be saying she wields with all the grace of a lump-hammer?
4. Merv is a graduate of the University of Toronto is he? In what subject? Zoology? Physics? What?

One other thing that bugs me is that poor Merla is relegated into second billing, even though alphabetically her name comes first, just. Is poor Merla just another victim of the misogyny of patriarchal society, or does ‘Merv and Merla’ just sound better than ‘Merla and Merv’? You decide.

The music itself is an odd blend. The album starts with a guitar sounding like a harpsichord, which leads into liturgical-influenced melody. It seems to be tripping over itself, but never quite falls.

At times this album conjured up 1960s Leonard Cohen (that’ll be the folk element then), and at other times, it reminded me of the soundtrack from ‘Hair’ (though being Christians, I kind of doubt that Merv and Merla would be cavorting naked, covered in body paint during their “Schoolhouse Concerts”.) Some of it was quite Jewish in its influences, and it was only subsequently that I found out that Merv and Merla now reside in Israel.

There’s talk on that site of ‘Merla’s Miracle’, a book detailing how Merla defied the surgeon’s predictions after a ‘bizarre’ accident where a piano crushed her hand, and in fact did play professionally again. You will of course be pleased to know that in the cause of furthering my knowledge of the artists I present to you here, I have tracked down and purchased a copy of ‘Merla’s Miracle’, and I will of course let you know in due course what the book’s like.

The most bizarre track however is ‘The Time of The Singing Of The Birds’ in which Merv and Merla whoop, holler and tweet like a pair of demented magpies. Sadly this track jumps on my copy, meaning I can’t present it in it’s fullness. But thanks to the wonder and diversity of YouTube, I found that someone had used it to enhance some video of some birds.

So ladies and gentlemen, kick back, relax, and enjoy the freakish sound of Merv and Merla.

Tracks

Side 1

1.O Sing A New Song
2. Consider Him
3.The Time Of The Singing Of The Birds
4. Miracles
5.Hear My Prayer
6.Just Before Midnight

Side 2

1. I Will Sing
2. The Lord Is My Shepherd
3.It’s Gotta Be Great
4. In The Night
5. The Seed Of Joy
6. Grace Be To You And You

Final score:

5.75 out of 10