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…
Label / Cat. No: A&M Records SP-4775 First Released: 1979
What The Album Blurb Says…
Special thanks to Kip for having such a good idea; to Kip and Herb for bringing me into it; to Juliea for all the help along the way; to everyone at A&M for keeping it such a good place to work/play; and a very special thanks to Ms. Merman. If it weren t for her great talent, dedication to “the work to be done,” sense of humor, love of life, generosity and the ability to give of herself…well then, most of us wouldn’t want to do another hundred records, T.V. shows, state fairs, etc… with her.
Thanks, Ethel, for the continuing reminders of what it’s all about…
Love, Peter Matz
“For decades Ethel Merman has been the heart and soul of the American Musical Theatre. Hearing this album, I’m convinced that this Disco Diva may be taking a whole new career! Not only are these songs among the world’s favorites, but the sheer joy of Merman’s voice makes me want to get up and dance. Bless you for boogeying, Ethel, you’re hot as a pistol!”
Paul Jabara
“P.S. When are you going to sing one of my tunes?!”
What I Say
Back in the late 80s I was a big fan of Whose Line Is It Anyway, the ‘comedy’ improvisation show. (I put ‘comedy’ in speech marks because, seeing it again recently on re-runs, I realised just how pedestrian it really was). Often the show would end with a game called ‘Party Quirks’ – one of the ensemble would play the part of a party host, and his guests all had idiosyncrasies which the host had to guess. The guests of course couldn’t just walk in and say ‘I’m a Mexican Astronaut’ because that would just be too easy, and not make for very interesting television. Despite having been quite a big fan, the only thing I remember is one round of party quirks where someone had to demonstrate that they communicated with the dead. At one point he sang ‘I hear voices and there’s no-one there’, to which the host (on that occasion Tony Slattery) replied, “Oh! He thinks he’s Ethel Merman”. e.t.a. – I’ve since been informed that Tony Slattery was quoting ‘Airplane!’, which makes sense.
And that, gentle reader, was the sum total of my knowledge of Ethel Merman until now. Or at least, I thought it was. Having listened to this album, I realise that although I may never have seen or heard Ethel directly (see, we’re on first name terms already), I have heard her parodied a thousand times. On all those American sit-coms when somebody ‘amusingly’ bursts into song, or takes on a big dramatic number, the voice that they’re impersonating is Ethel’s. You don’t believe me? Just listen to the how she pronounces ‘know’ in ‘like no-business I know’, and you will have an instant pang of recognition.
Ethel’s voice sounds… strong for a 71 year old, but I can’t say it’s exactly to my tastes. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with this album, other than it should never have been made. Ethel worked in Musical Theatre, not Studio 54, and it just seems to tarnish what was otherwise a pretty heady career. I say shame on the producers who clearly wanted to make a fast buck on the back of the Disco phenomena by trying to appeal to two separate markets to try and double their profits. The cads.
It’s worth reading the ‘About This Video’ section on this YouTube offering to give another insight into opinions of this album. Unapologetic. Shocking. But honest about this album’s place in the Disco pantheon.
As a final point, I should probably point out that this barely falls into the category of ‘Forgotten Albums’. After all, this was rereleased as a CD, and apparently has quite a cult following. It even has its own Wikipedia Page. So, can I call it a Forgotten Album? Well, it was in a cardboard box, under a table, in a corner of a charity shop sited in a Livestock Market in Hereford. I’d therefore say pretty much, Yes. I also think, having forced myself to listen to the whole bloody thing that it really should have stayed forgotten.
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.
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.
Label / Cat. No: Cambrian MCT 219 First Released: 1972
What The Album Blurb Says…
Maralene Powell made her first record as a solo artiste. Her second recording was in comapny with Gareth Edwards who for a brief moment exchanged the rugby field for the sound studio.
In this, her first album, Maralene presents a collection of songs which are as varied in subject as they are melodic in nature.
Family music at the fireside has been usurped in past decades by radio and television, but these technical wonders are now commonplace and making one’s own music is becoming a rediscovered pleasure. This is indeed a talented family for in this record Maralene is joined by her brother and sister, Aubrey and Denise and her brother in law – John. The quiet mid Wales valley of Pantydwr must often echo to their songs.
“Amazing Grace” cannot be too frequently recorded for each singer brings something new to the listener. The Gentlemen Songsters who join Maralene in this version with such effect are too well known to need introduction. “Morning has Broken” is an old melody which lingers in the mind long after the echoes have died away.
This is a collection of ballads and folk songs, some old and some new. “Love is Teasing” is from the distant past while “Deportee” underlines how cheaply human life is sometimes held in the modern world.
Together they are a collection without a theme – unless what ordinary people feel and experience is thematic. Maralene is already well known on record and in concert, but this is the first recording of the Four P’s and it must widen even further their circle of admirers.
What I Say
In light of the fact that the Taffs had a lucky victory on Saturday, I thought it only right we should look at one of their countryfolk for today’s outing. And so we have the lovely Maralene Powell, a farmer’s daughter from Pantydwr in Radnorshire. I’m not sure Radnorshire even exists any more, though there is a pub just a stone’s throw from here called the Radnorshire Arms. See, a little background colour for you there.
Although it’s ostensibly a Maralene album, the full title is Just For You – Maralene Powell and the Four P’s sing a selection of folk and country songs for your pleasure. And I thought Script For A Jester’s Tear was enough of a mouthful. These ‘Four P’s’ confuse me though. There’s a picture of them on the front, matching Salmon pink tops, flares armed and dangerous, and rolling Welsh landscape behind. And I think Maralene is one of the Four Ps. It certainly looks like her, and the sleeve notes refer to how Maralene is “joined by her brother and sister, Aubrey and Denise and her brother in law – John”. That makes three other people, Maralene being the fourth. So why is it Maralene AND the Four Ps. Surely it’s either ‘The Four Ps’ or ‘Maralene and the Three Ps’. Surely Maralene is being counted twice. I shouldn’t let it bother me, but this is exactly the kind of thing that keeps me awake at night.
I’ve just noticed that on the back of the album it says it’s called ‘Maralene Powell with the Four “P’s” and the Gentlemen Songsters present a selection of Folk and Country songs for your pleasure.. Seems like everybody’s getting in on the credits. Good job they didn’t put that on the cover of the album, or there wouldn’t have been enough room for that lovely picture of Maralene looking foxy.
The songs are a bit of an odd mix. Understandably, given the nature of the Welsh, there are a few religious songs on here – ‘Tramp On The Street’ stood out for likening the treatment of Jesus to the death of an unloved Tramp. On The Street. A strange comparison to make, but at least I remembered it! Amazing Grace is handled well, and the Male Voice Choir, sorry, the ‘Gentlemen Songsters’ make sure you know this is a Welsh record. But the version of Morning Has Broken struck me as a little… off. The pianist and the guitarist seemed hesitant, and not quite sure when to come in to best compliment the vocals. It leads me to believe (though I may be completely wrong) that the song was recorded ‘live’ in the studio.
I do have a few concerns though with the choice of songs. We have an album created by someone with great potential and a good voice, but the songs just don’t seem to do Maralene justice.
Firstly, there is a tendency on this side of the Atlantic to believe that Country songs hold some meaning for us. They don’t. Really. It’s nice to listen to, and I’ve learned over the last few years to love Country music, but there is something so very wrong about a singer from North Wales telling me about her Louisiana home, and how the cotton crop has done this year. I’m not saying you have to stick to what you know and sing about daffodils and leeks, but there is only a certain degree of credulity I can muster, and it stops short of believing you’re a prairie flower.
What causes me more of a worry are the two songs that start side two – ‘Love Is Teasing’ and ‘I Will Never Marry’ – they both carry the same message, which is that men are feckless bastards who will get what they want from you, then cast you aside. You can’t trust them, so don’t waste your time on them. I shant comment further, only to suggest that maybe Maralene had one or two boyfriend issues at the time….? Mere speculation….
We also have a rendition of ‘Nobody’s Child’, a song last seen on Tony Best – By Request, and of such awful sludgy sentimentality that it makes me nauseous just to think about it. It’s a song about how the narrator goes to an orphanage and finds a blind boy who nobody wants (because he’s blind, obviously), and how said blind orphan believes he’d be better off dead because at least in Heaven he’d be able to see. This really is the most unpleasant song I think I’ve heard since No Charge. Yes, it’s really that bad.
The record is released on Cambrian Recordings, a label I hadn’t come across at all before, and one that has a strong Welsh pedigree, boasting Max Boyce and Mary Hopkin as signed artists.
Maralene’s voice is rather lovely. It has that pure, clean tone that was so favoured in folk circles in the 60s and 70s. That may however have been her downfall in that while the voice is technically good, it doesn’t ( to my ears at least) stand out above the other recording artists of the time. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it – in fact, there’s a lot to commend it, but it lacks that distinctive edge that could elevate it into wider public recognition.
Equally, the album doesn’t have a focus – had it been an album of religious songs or an album of standards, it might have fared better, but it seems to lack identity as one or the other, and so ends up a bit of a hodge podge. That’s not to say I won’t be listening to it again. But you can be sure I’ll be skipping Nobody’s sodding Child.
Tracks
Side 1
(This is, by the way, the first album that I have ever seen that listed it’s tracks a, b, c.)
Label / Cat. No: Golden Hour (Pye) GH511 First Released: This Compilation 1970
What The Album Blurb Says…
John Schroeder, the brilliant young producer and creator of Sounds Orchestral has come a long way since 1962, the year that first saw him thinking about a musical concept that sprang to triumphant fruition three years later when “Cast your fate to the wind” sets Sounds on the international chart trail.
But while the years since have been filled with hit sounds for a multitude of artists, Sounds Orchestral continues to occupy a very special place in John’s affections. For time and again, in the company of those other Sounds Orchestral veterans, Johnny Pearson and engineer Ray Prickett, John Schroeder returns to the studios to make fresh albums, yet albums that still retain the ingredients that keeps Sounds Orchestral a best-seller all over the world.
This, his latest contribution to the Sounds success story starts, appropriately enough with the Vince Guaraldi classic that began it all. But complementing it are a string of familiar and enduring melodies that have found their way into many hit parades and into the affections of millions of people. Johnny Pearson has arranged them with the brand of perfection that has become his trademark and because the musical performances that graces them maintains the Sounds Orchestral formula, the result is sheer enjoyment for anyone who loves good music.
Arranged, Conducted by, and featuring the Piano of, Johnny Pearson
Produced by John Schroeder
Engineer: Ray Prickett
What I Say
When I was a sweet young thing of 13, I recorded a copy of ‘Waiting’ by Fun Boy Three from one of my sisters friends. Shhh, yes, I know, home taping is killing music. It’s a great album, and one I still own. But my over-riding memory is that it managed to fit on one side of a C60 tape, all except for the last word of the last song (’that’ of ‘well fancy that’). If I’d bothered, I probably could have edited out the silence with judicial use of the pause button and made up those few precious moments to allow the final song in its entirety to fit on the tape. As it was, I didn’t bother, and I quite liked the way the album just hung in the air, not quite resolved.
The point in all this reminiscing is that clearly the album, if it could fit on one side of a C60 only really lasted about 30 minutes. Pretty short for albums which in those days, you’d reckon to get on one side of a C90. 45 minutes was pretty much the norm until CDs came along and stretched things out. So to have an album with a guaranteed ‘Golden Hour’ of music would’ve been quite a bargain. Mind you, you’re not getting any more than that. This album runs to 1 hour, 1 minute and 13 seconds. That’s about as close as you can get, though I wouldn’t set your watch by it. Well, I might set your watch by it, but not mine.
I have to tackle the cover. I can understand that with the butterflies, the fish and the logs / rocks you’re getting a pretty literal depiction of ‘The Earth, The Sea & The Sky’, but whoever thought it would be a winning formula to stick a dead fish on the front of an album cover really needs to go back to marketing school. I grew up believing that album art was something to treasure. That in some cases, the cover was as important as the contents, that together they produced the whole experience intended by the artist. That may be because I listened to a lot of Prog Rock (I know, I know…) and they tended to go for the overblown, pompous, album cover.
But it was all part of the experience, listening to the album, poring over the cover art, looking for clues, for details, for messages. An hour spent looking at a picture of a couple of dead fish might push some people over the edge, however great the music is.
And the music isn’t great. It’s competent. It’s nicely arranged, but it does nothing new. It falls between two stools like so many of its contemporaries – It won’t radically change the arrangements of the music because the target market need nice, recognisable tunes that they can tap their toes to. So the arrangements aren’t particularly bold or exciting. But equally, they don’t have the full Orchestral sweep that would put them firmly into that realm. In fact, I wonder who on earth came up with the name ‘Sounds Orchestral’. It sounds like a jazz trio plus a violin or two when the budget allowed. That it took John Schroeder three years from having the idea to making ‘Sounds Orchestral’ a reality makes you think that he spent that time building the foundations of something special. I suspect he didn’t leave himself enough time to come up with that winning idea. That, or he just got distracted for a couple of years building a scale model of York Minster out of matchsticks and Jaffa Cake packets.
I’m afraid that this is all fairly generic stuff. Nothing in particular stands out (except for the drummer – he must’ve been sleeping with the Engineer to have got placed so high in the mix. That is of course a joke, and I’m not implying anything of the sort…..) Anyway, where was I… Oh yes. I don’t expect innovation on every album I listen to, but if I could just find a spark of something interesting, something new or different then I would look far more kindly on this kind of album. But I really can’t here, no matter how I try.
The saving grace however is that it does have a copy of ‘Good Morning Starshine’ on it. I don’t think you can ever top the Original Cast sound recording of that particular song, but it’s always good to hear any version of a song that has the following lyrics:-
Gliddy glub gloopy
Nibby nabby noopy
La la la lo lo
Sabba sibby sabba
Nooby abba nabba
Le le lo lo
Tooby ooby walla
Nooby abba naba
Early morning singing song
Label / Cat. No: EMI DUO130 First Released: This Compilation 1981
What The Album Blurb Says…
HARRY MORTIMER’S name is synonymous with brass bands. He is the outstanding figure of the brass band world and surely its most devoted servant. Universally known as “the man of brass”.
His long career as soloist, teacher, adjudicator, administrator and conductor is one of the outstanding chapters in the story of brass band music in our time.
They start young in the brass band movement and Harry Mortimer’s career began at the tender age of eight when he learned to play the cornet in the Yorkshire town of Hebden Bridge where his father, the redoubtable Fred Mortimer, was the conductor of the local band.
He won his first medal at the age of 9 and soon became recognised as something of an infant prodigy on the cornet, collecting, so it is said, some 350 medals and cups before he reached his teens.
He was only 14 when he became the conductor of a junior band, leading them to the 3rd prize in a local contest at his first entry into the competition field.
When the family moved south to Luton, Harry found himself playing in the Luton Red Cross Band of which his father had just become conductor. As a very small boy he played with them in the national brass band championship and made up for his lack of inches by standing on a ginger beer box! Later he was to become the band’s solo cornet.
it was at Luton that the young Harry Mortimer, while still a schoolboy, had his first experience of another side of the world of music…playing in the orchestra of the local theatre.
In 1924 Harry joined the ranks of Foden’s Motor Works Band as solo cornet when his father took over the direction of that already noted band whose name he was to make world famous. He stayed with Foden’s until 1942.
The opening of “the Mortimer years” at Foden’s marked the beginning of a new era in brass band history and technique. It also marked the effective opening of Harry Mortimer’s long and distinguished career in the world of music and that of the brass band in particular. What had gone before had been but prelude to his later career and achievements.
It was then that he began to gain experience in a wider sphere of music making. For some years he led a “double life” playing in both brass bands and symphony orchestras. He was principal trumpet of the Halle and Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestras from 1930 to 1941, holding a similar position for some years with the B.B.C. Northern Orchestra, and somehow contriving to find time to fill the position of Professor of Trumpet at the Royal Manchester College of Music from 1936 to 1940.
Further opportunities presented themselves when, in 1942, he joined the B.B.C. as brass and military band supervisor, a post which he held until his retirement from the B.B.C. some twenty years later.
It was a period in which, thanks to Harry’s drive and flair, brass and military band music acquired a new significance in broadcasting programmes, coupled with a great increase in the weekly output of band broadcasts. As someone said at the time Harry Mortimer achieved more for the band movement in ten years than others had contrived throughout the history of broadcasting.
It was then that he sought to forge links between the world of brass bands and “the musical establishment”, attracting the interest of conductors like Sir Malcolm Sargent and Sir Adrian Boult and of composers like Granville Bantock and Sir Arthur Bliss. Some notable original compositions resulted.
During those years at the B.B.C. Harry Mortimer began to organise concerts by massed bands, brass orchestras in effect, which were the forerunners of his celebrated “Men O’Brass”, securing the interest and co-operation of celebrated conductors amongst them Boult, Sargent and Wood.
He also embarked upon a further and brilliantly successful phase of his career at that time as a conductor in the highly competitive sphere of brass band contests. In this he was destined to surpass even his father’s remarkable earlier achievement, securing no less than nine victories in the National Band Championship at the Royal Albert Hall and another nine victories in the famous Open British Band Championship at Belle Vue, Manchester.
Crowned with success he gave up contesting in 1956 and went off to Australia as Adjudicator of an important series of brass band contests there.
Speaking of his decision to retire from the field of brass band contests he once said “it was rather like being a jockey with five horses”. He still continued until 1970 as Musical Director of the Fairey Band which he had led to so many successes and continues his direction of the Morris Concert Band which he has now conducted since its inception more than 30 years ago.
In the post war years Harry Mortiner (sic) emerged as a national figure, rewarded with the O.B.E. for his services to music and acclaimed for his success as a conductor, in the concert hall, on records or in broadcast brass band programmes and in particular for his direction of that most successful band combination, the “Men O’Brass”.
Behind the skill and the flair which mark his performances lies the evidence of years of experience, the autumnal flowering of musicianship and of artistic experiences gleaned in during early days in the band room, on the concert platform and at the feet of some of the world’s most famous conductors.
“I shall never retire,” Harry Mortimer once said and today, as he nears his eightieth year, he is still active, conducting, recording, broadcasting; prominent in administrative problems of the brass band world fulfilling a busy round of engagements here or abroad with time in seemingly ineffectual pursuit. Long may he continue.
HARRY MORTIMER – CORNET VIRTUOSO
Harry Mortimer’s almost legendary reputation as a virtuoso performer upon the cornet rests not simply upon his surpassing technique but also upon the distinctive quality of singing tone which he commanded and the sensitivity and artistry which marked his playing. His influence was widely felt and extended into the playing of a new generation of performers.
The quality of his tone excited critical comment, sometimes from critics who made no secret of their lack of interest in the brass band and its music but were quick to recognise the unique quality of tone and expression which he brought to solos and solo passages alike.
“Harry does not play, he sings! We hear sometimes of persons making an instrument talk, that is just what Harry does”, a critic of much experience asserted.
While a respected Northern critic wrote – “Harry Mortimer playing the solo with a beauty and steadiness of tone which most singers might envy” and another performance drew the comment “then there was Mr Harry Mortimer performing incredible feats of agility in “Il Bacio”, a coloratura soprano song which no coloratura soprano sings with such smoothness, brilliance or firmness of tone and accuracy of intonation”, adding “she may give us one or even two of these qualities but not all four at once!”
Harry’s playing, captured in all its brilliance and beguiling tone quality on EMI records, is recalled for us in an historical sequence of performances of justly famous cornet solos on the two sides of the first of the two records in this album.
If there really are only six cornet solos as someone once facetiously suggested (an opinion calculated to provoke discussion in band room or bar) then the half-dozen indisputable classic solos for the cornet must surely appear amongst the near definitive performance on this record of original pieces or arrangements which every aspiring cornet soloist must command.
ALPINE ECHOES by Basil Windsor (pseudonym of Eli Smith, music teacher and a noted figure in band circles in the North) with Harry using his echo cornet adding to the effects of an incredibly taxing but colourful piece.
Thomas Lear’s brilliant SHYLOCK with its polka rhythm and Percy Code’s ZELDA together with one of the earliest of the enduring classics for the cornet in HAILSTORM by William Rimmer, one of the key figures in brass band history and friend and mentor of Harry Mortimer as he was of Harry’s father. Its effect upon an audience at the hands of an accomplished performer is easily predictable, the result certain. “What’s the encore, Charlie?”, asked a once famous player before rising to perform “Hailstorm”.
No less irresistible in its seemingly timeless appeal is Arditi’s evergreen IL BACIO in Arban’s effective arrangement. Another attractive arrangement of a familiar melody is that by Henry Gheel of RICHMOND HILL, one of the earliest recordings in this collection which has, unusually, an accompaniment by a recording studio orchestra.
Cornet duets have always featured in brass band programmes and Harry is joined by Jack Mackintosh, a noted contemporary of his early days. in MAC AND MORT which Harry composed for the duo to play, and the well loved THE SWALLOW’S SERENADE.
The second side of the record contains two further examples of Harry Mortimer’s versatility in the strains of the post horn heard in the course of a Hunting Medley played by Foden’s Band and, of more artistic significance, an impressive performance of the solo role in Haydn’s TRUMPET CONCERTO in E flat with the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by the late George Weldon. The record also provides a fascinating reminder of the unique quality of tone, clarity of detail and the wonderful ensemble, rich in individual talent, which characterised the playing of Foden’s Band in its heyday under Fred Mortimer.
HARRY MORTIMER – CONDUCTOR
Harry Mortimer’s transition from instrumentalist to conductor was possibly less a conscious decision than a gradual and inevitable progress.
It began with those ‘prentice efforts as a teenager conducting a junior band and continued throughout the years of his brilliant career as a soloist. His services were always in demand by ambitious or struggling bands anxiously seeking specialist training or a “polish” upon their performance of a test piece for some local contest.
Further experience came in his role as Bandmaster of Foden’s, occasionally deputising for his father.
When he finally relinquished the cornet for the baton he was superbly equipped by training and experience for his new role.
His unequalled succession of contest successes with famous bands, like Black Dyke, Fairey and others, proclaimed his mastery of the medium.
To his undoubted flair as a conductor, his authority and wide musicianship which no doubt owed something to his orchestral experiences, was added that indefinable “star quality” which had always been apparent in his performances as a soloist.
His career was soon to take a new course with his promotion and direction of an expanding series of massed band concerts.
It arose from his recognition that a wider range of music and higher standards of presentation were necessary if the brass band movement was to meet the challenge presented by the great changes which had come about in public entertainment in the early post war years and in particular the growth of competition from radio and television.
His experience in the organisation and direction of performances by massed bands for broadcasting or public concerts in the later years of the war and early post war years, often featuring guest conductors of distinction, convinced him of the possibility as an entertainment medium of such a combination.
In 1952 he launched the now celebrated ALL-STAR BRASS some 50 strong with personnel specially chosen from the principal brass bands in this country. It was an immediate success. It was in a effect (sic) a “brass orchestra” of highly talented instrumentalists, intensively rehearsed by Harry Mortimer and utilising a number of specially commissioned arrangements.
It was featured in a notable series of EMI records and a taste of the superb quality of the band is provided by their performance of the suite KENILWORTH by Sir Arthur Bliss, one of the classics of brass band literature, recorded in 1960 which appears on side 2 of the second record of this album.
Practical considerations precluded an expansion of the concert activities of the ALL-STAR BRASS, and to meet the demand which had arisen from concert promoters and audiences alike Harry Mortimer established the famous MEN O’BRASS with the combined bands of Fairey, Foden’s and Morris Motors who, with occasional variations in the combination, achieved a wide popularity on the concert platform and on records in the years that followed their inaugural appearance in 1953.
A representative selection of recordings made by MEN O’BRASS and other massed band combinations directed by Harry Mortimer featured in the second record provides an impressive demonstration of the unsurpassable brilliance of the playing and the wide range of sonorities lavished upon music stirring, solemn or beguiling, from the OPENING FANFARE by George Hespe which Men O’Brass, adopted as their signature tune for recording and broadcasting, to the crescendo of excitement provided by the GALOP & FINALE from the WILLIAM TELL OVERTURE.
Amongst the wide range of music featured is arresting sound of BLAZON with Gilbert Vinter’s highly original writing for brass in this musical evocation of the sound of Biblical trumpets as prelude to his cantata for brass and voices. Wagner’s RIDE OF THE VALKYRIES acquires added power in the arrangement for brass bands, and the precision and phrasing which marks the performance of Rossini’s BARBER OF SEVILLE OVERTURE is contrasted by the refinement of tone and expression brought to MacDowell’s TO A WIDE ROSE and Grieg’s elegiac SPRING, while Bach’s JESU JOY OF MAN’S DESIRING in which the bands are joined by the organ splendidly captures the devotional atmosphere of a great Cathedral.
A taste of the quality of some of the soloists of the bands is provided by the performance by PHILIP McCANN, then with the Fairey Band of the well known solo JENNY WREN and that by GWYN DAVIES of the Morris Band of the popular “THE SHEPHERD’S SONG”.
This unique compilation of EMI recordings will provide a lasting reminder of the achievements of Harry Mortimer as the outstanding cornet and trumpet soloist of his generation and pre-eminent conductor of some of the famous bands with which he has been associated during his long and distinguished career of service to music and the brass band movement.
Jack Oliver
Harry Mortimer On Brass published by Alphabooks, Sherborne, Dorset.
What I Say
I think we need to talk about the blurb for a bit. Did you read all of it? No? I’m not surprised. Bit much really. I think it’s fair to say that the author, Jack Oliver was given a brief to fill out the inner sleeve of a gatefold album, and he has done so. However, apart from the tedious repetition of how great Harry was and how fantastic the EMI recordings of his work are, one thing becomes painfully obvious. As we go on and on, the grammar becomes more and more tortured. Allow me to give you an example from the final quarter of the blurb:-
It was featured in a notable series of EMI records and a taste of the superb quality of the band is provided by their performance of the suite KENILWORTH by Sir Arthur Bliss, one of the classics of brass band literature, recorded in 1960 which appears on side 2 of the second record of this album.
I suspect that the deadline came round a bit quick for Mr Oliver, and he found himself the night before, hunched over his typewriter, desperate to fill the blank page before him. It started well enough, but as the night wore on, and our Jack started to tire, the language got more and more tortured.
But, bless him, he managed it, and he even used the UNEXPECTED CAPITALS trick that I’m so fond of. It works particularly well when confronted with things like “ALL-STAR BRASS”, making it seem exotic, exciting and mysterious…!
But we can easily sum up this massive amount of blurb in the following way.
Harry Mortimer played the cornet. He started playing in his Dad’s band, and continued to play in his Dad’s band in an example of crass nepotism. He could hold a tune, better than most, and played in both brass bands and orchestras. He kept busy, had a job with the BBC for a while, and helped to popularise brass band music in the post war years. He organised the odd extravaganza like “MEN O’BRASS” where his maxim was clearly more is more, and he chucked together all the bands he worked with so that there was a big crowd of blokes playing brass instruments instead of a small crowd. Here are some recordings. They were made by EMI. Enjoy. Oh, and he also did a bit of conducting on the side.
See. That wasn’t too hard was it. But no, instead we had to have Jack Bloody Oliver going on and on about ‘Harry Mortimer’ always bloody ‘Harry Mortimer’, never just Harry, or Mr Mortimer, or even Hazza. No. I shan’t let it get to me. But really…
So, where was I? Oh yes, Brass Band music. It seems, as it goes, Harry Mortimer was a bit of a fan, and that’s fair enough. But I’m not. I’m afraid I was put off by my next door neighbour, James Hearn. When we were children, he would practise his bloody trumpet every Saturday morning, without fail, starting at 9 o’clock and going on for a couple of hours. Yes, exactly. Prime Tiswas time, ruined by a trumpet. To be fair, it wasn’t his fault, and he was very good at it (or at least, he became very good at it, though not as good as Hazza, of course…), but that put me off brass as a whole.
Therefore, I’m not really in a very good position to tell you whether this is a good brass album or not. It certainly seems very… professional. There’s lots of brass, a few tunes we know, and plenty we don’t. So I’m going to have to take the middle ground here and just say it’s OK.
And what have we learnt?
Well….. firstly, that Brass Bands all appear to have double entendre names like ‘Black Dyke’ and ‘Fairey’.
Secondly, there is (or at least was) a whole thriving brass band community, one that probably was damaged irrevocably by the closure of the mines in the 80s. Which reminds me – if anyone out there hasn’t seen Brassed Off, they probably should.
Thirdly, there was a composer called ‘Granville Bantock’. I wish I’d called my child Granville Bantock. I promise that if I ever get a dog, that’s what I shall call it. And he was a fine looking fellow too. Proper beard – the works…
Fourthly, you can go a long way if your Dad’s leader of the band.
And finally, Harry Mortimer, the ‘Man Of Brass’ himself does indeed look like a cleaned up version of Father Jack Hackett
Oh, and of course, I couldn’t leave an entry on Brass Bands without this now, could I….?
Tracks
Side 1
1. Overture: ZAMPA
2. MAC AND MORT
3. RICHMOND HILL
4. Polka Brillante: SHYLOCK
5. ALPINE ECHOES
6. IL BACIO
7. CHAMPION MEDLEY MARCH No. 3
Side 2
1. TRUMPET CONCERTO IN E FLAT
2. ZELDA
3. HAILSTORM
4. THE SWALLOWS SERENADE
5. A HUNTING MEDLEY
Side 3
1. OPENING FANFARE
2. THE THREE TRUMPETERS
3. Suite: KENILWORTH
4. JENNY WREN
5. THE SHEPHERD’S SONG
6. THE LOST CHORD
7. RADETSKY MARCH
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.
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.
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)
Label / Cat. No: Parlophone PMC 1160 First Released: 1961
What The Album Blurb Says…
Fairly bursting with confidence and talent are Elaine and Derek Thompson, the thirteen-year-old twins from Belfast, who have been busy lately making a name for themselves with their records and television appearances.
Born on October 23, 1948, Derek is ten minutes older than Elaine – “and very proud of the fact,” says his mother. They both attend Belfast Modern School where everyone is very excited about their popularity and success: it appears that the only two calm people in the school are Elaine and Derek themselves!
“We’ve been singing since we were six years old,” says Elaine, who always takes charge of the situation, “at socials, parties and charity concerts, so I think this is why we don’t feel nervous about singing before large audiences and in recording studios. It’s Mum and Dad who suffer for us while we just get very excited. We don’t sing rock ‘n’ roll, but we enjoy listening to it – it amuses us. Gene Vincent is one of our favourite performers; we like the way he flings himself around the microphone on stage!”
At school the twins’ favourite subjects are French and algebra. They are not madly keen on sport, and all their spare time is taken up with singing. In fact they allow themselves little or no time to enjoy the hobbies and amusements that children usually like.
The twins were introduced to promoter Phil Raymond by a friend, when they were singing at a party one evening,. Raymond liked their voices and within a short time he booked them to appear at the Belfast Opera House with Gene Vincent and Emile Ford.
Recording manager Norman Newell was told about tht twins and flew to Belfast to hear them, with the result that they travelled to London and the E.M.I. studios to record their first disc for Parlophone Records – One Little Robin and Brahms’ Lullaby (45-R4783). This proved so popular that before long they returned to cut another single – Bluebird, coupled with Wooden Heart (45-R4829) – and this delightful LP of twelve children’s hymns, to the sensitive accompaniment of Michael Collins and his Orchestra.
What I Say
Hmmmm…. this album is rather like an onion. It has so many layers, and there’s something new to discover underneath, but all the layers are really the same, and it makes me cry when you cut it up, and it makes a delicious base for most savoury meals. OK, so I didn’t think out my metaphor very well before I started, but this album holds a few surprises, which aren’t at first apparent.
For example, as is my practice, I chose the album on the qualities of its cover alone. Although first released in 1961, the influence of the 50s is still clear to see, from the typeface used on their names, to the formal outfits and hairdos of the twins. Dereks frilly fronted shirt and hand-made slacks (see, always the slacks) provide a formal accompaniment to his sisters frilly, fussy party dress with faux-pearl buttons and sewn on corsage.
What I didn’t know when I picked up the album is that this is full of Children’s hymns. Twelve songs that are supposed to uplift and convince children of the glory of god. But is it really aimed for children? I have a sneaking suspicion that the market for this kind of album is the grannies of this world. I have a clear image of a grey haired granny settling down in her favourite armchair to listen to ‘those wonderful Irish children’ sing about Jesus. And it must’ve been a comfort, for in 1961 when this record was released, rock ‘n’ roll was shaking the foundations, but just so long as teenagers were singing about Jesus and not girls and cars, then there was hope for the future.
And this album has been well loved. Unlike most of the records that I pick up which are in pristine condition, this is worn and scratched, with jumps, pops and hisses all over it. Someone has played this album over and over again. Either that, or they hated it so much they’ve used it as a dinner plate…. but I’m sticking with my doting Granny theory.
I’m also surprised at how happy they both seem to be. If you’d asked me at thirteen to stand next to my sister to have my photo taken, let alone smile, or – horror of horrors – touch her, I would have sulked and made the most unattractive of photographs. But here we have true professionals. They both look happy, relaxed, almost like they like each other. That’s not normal in a teenager, is it?
Now, I know in my review of The Kaye Family that I suggested that there was something weird about families playing together, (although I did qualify that about it being weird across the generations), but there is one clear benefit of families singing together. I’ve heard it suggested that the reason why the Beach Boys, the Proclaimers and the Bee Gees do harmony so well, is because that they have similar physical vocal structures, as well as similar accents and similar tonality to their voices. Because they’ve grown up in the same environment, their voices sound very similar, and you end up with harmony not just of notes, but also of tone. (I am of course bluffing here, but don’t tell anyone…) The same applies here – the songs sound sweet because the two voices compliment each other very well.
That’s another thing. In a world where we are so used to our child stars being brash to the point of obnoxious, precocious and schmaltzy, the gentle sweetness of these two is quite refreshing. It’s not my kind of music at all, either in subject matter or musical style, but there is something very calming and gentle about the way they sing together which is unexpectedly lovely.
Derek tends to sing the lower parts (unsurprisingly) with a fairly linear melody, while Elaine tackles the more complex melody lines. It’s a traditional arrangement, but it works here. The songs I’ve picked for the clips are all much of a much – I just chose the ones I knew – there isn’t a great amount of variety in this album, it must be said.
I wonder how annoyed Derek was though, that although he is chronologically and alphabetically first, that his name came second in the billing. That must’ve hurt, though it does say clearly on the sleeve notes that Elaine is in charge. I wonder if she made that business decision.
But who’s laughing now, eh? For while Elaine has subsided into obscurity (I say that like I know – for all I know, Elaine could be a major star under another name….) Derek, the mighty Derek of Elaine and Derek grew up to be one of England’s favourite TV stars.
Yes, this was the biggest surprise that this album yielded for me. When I started doing my ‘research’ (assuming a bit of googling can be counted as research) for this album, I discovered that this album’s Derek is none other than…..
1. There’s A Friend For Little Children
2. O What Can Little Hands Do
3. When Mother Of Salem
4.How Great Thou Art
5. Standing Somewhere In Life’s Shadows
6.Jesus Loves Me
