Various artists for March, 2025--Vic Damone, Ray Ellis, Bobby Vinton, Tom Jones, Lester Lanin, more!

 

Seventeen tracks, ripped from both stereo and mono LPs, with (alas) no provision for a stereo-to-mono change for individual tracks.  Hence, the mono tracks aren't channel-summed, but life can be like that.  I'm now using VinylStudio as my stand-alone ripping and editing program (since my "ancient" MAGIX software has ceased to operate properly), and after a couple hours of learning the basics, I experienced a complicated glitch--one which had both me AND the AlpineSoft (makers of VS) help person puzzled.  And, somehow, I was the first to figure out the problem.  Namely, I had "cut" several sections of the audio project file, but upon saving/exporting the tracks, those deleted areas remained (not being "recognized" as deletions, which threw off my track indications).  I communicated my theory to the tech, he confirmed it, and he promised that the issue would be fixed.  How about that?

Meanwhile, I went to extra trouble to rescue these tracks--Namely, by burning them to CD-R (directly from VS), then RE-burning them and labeling everything in Mp3tag.  For some reason, the ripping software initially auto-identified the project as a Lena Horne album.  Yeah, no one sounds more like Carmen Cavallaro than Lena, I must say.

As ever, my "VA" collection hosts no theme, beyond an emphasis on fun and interesting tracks.  (I think so, anyway.)  We start with Lester Lanin's Salute to the Beatles, one of the earliest Fab Four acknowledgments in the post-teen-listener realm.  (Other "pioneers" in this regard include Henry Mancini, Herman Clebanoff--who is in this list--, and the Johnny Mann Singers.)  And, no offense to Arthur Fiedler, but his ridiculous take on I Want to Hold Your Hand turned me off to any and all Boston-Pops Beatles treatments.  Pretentious in a truly obnoxious way, that performance is sheer middlebrow junk.  A portent of "Pops" to come.  (No, I'm not a Pops fan.  How did you guess?)

Lanin's Salute to the Beatles, by contrast to Arthur, is great fun--and surprisingly effective.  It rocks!  Clearly, composers Lowe (?) and Lanin set out to faithfully capture the Invasion sound, and they did fine.  Carmen Cavallaro's 1951 Deep Night will always be one of my most favorite cuts, and though it's not technically exotica, it sounds very much like same.  So, in that regard, it is exotica.  Gimmick-free exotica, its impact owing to genius musicianship from all involved.  Andre's You and the Night and the Music is, to my ears, perfect mood music, and it dates back to at least 1950, if not earlier. Then, Clebanoff's terrific 1964 EZ-ized "P.S. I Love You," credited to "McCartney-Lennon."  From the conductor's Teen Hits LP, which unfortunately contains too few genuinely "teen" numbers.

Day Dream is from the amazing 1957 Joe Reisman LP, Door of Dreams, and it was penned by Irving Joseph and Joseph (Psycho) Stefano during the latter's brief songwriting stint.  Joe went on to write the brilliant screenplay for Hitchcock's Psycho, and he produced the first season of the best sci-fi show in TV history, The Outer Limits (as in, the original; don't get me started on the reboot).  Hard to believe that it's already 17 years since Joe's passing!  Stefano's least celebrated (but highly-rated) effort was the TV movie, Snowbeast.  I've seen it, and it's bad.  I hope JS got a Bigfoot-sized paycheck, anyway.

Joey's Song (did somebody say "Joe"?) has Joe Reisman presenting his own song in an especially catchy version.  On to Bobby Vinton, still with us and an unusually talented teen-idol singer whom I saw in person at the 1965 or 1966 Lucas County Fair.  The big surprise was that my Dad, a jazz musician and highly vocal nonfan of rock and roll, was pleased by Vinton's performance.  And we have 1965's Tina, co-written by Vinton and gorgeously produced, plus the Burt Bacharach-conducted (and redundantly titled!) Forever Yours I Remain, miscredited to "David Bacharach."  Hm.  One of Burt's brothers?  Anyway, one of the finest little-known Burt numbers.

                                                                                                                      Above: Vic Damon Sings

Vic Damone's superb 1959 The Night Has a Thousand Eyes is not the equally memorable Bobby Vee number, and unfortunately we're hearing it in faux stereo.  Which takes nothing away from the expert performance and score, of course.  Probably my favorite Damone side, and sometimes I think this fabulous vocalist don't get enough respect.  Then, speaking of Bacharach-David soul/R&B, we have Tom Jones' excellent 1968 rendering of I Wake Up Crying.  I recall it was sometime during the 1980s that I realized I love Tom Jones.  His singing, that is.  This great talent is still with us, and I'll never forget his NPR interview in which Tom demonstrated a razor-sharp sense of humor and humble sense of self.  Talk about a "real"-person celebrity.  Then, some extremely well-done 1961 Ray Ellis (and Chorus) renderings of School is Out, Pretty Little Angel Eyes, and Little Sister (forgive the slightly early cutoff).  Ray Ellis, sounding in 1961 like the musical director for Grease.  Uncanny.

1954's Stomp and Whistle is an expertly performed rock and roll side by David Carroll, of all people.  (Harry James also covered this number.)  And the Ray Charles Singers' 1968 Windy is pure "EZ" Top-40 as it once existed on FM.  Lovely nostalgia.  Great jacket, too.

More EZ, courtesy of Horst Jankowski, with a fine cover of the Jimmy Webb classic, Mac Arthur Park (or, if you're Richard Harris, Mac Arthur's Park), and a Jankowski-co-written instrumental And We Got Love (Ein Hoc der Liebe), which I found irresistible.  And it was in the mid-1980s that EZ radio stations suddenly dropped the classic, relaxing Jankowski/Kostelanetz/Conniff style in favor of an annoying thump-a-dump variety clearly designed to please my generation's love for what I term "thump-thump."  The change seemed to occur overnight--weird.  That's when I gave up on EZ.  (A good book title, there.)

To the music...

DOWNLOAD: Various Artists March 2025.zip

Salute to the Beatles--Lester Lanin, 1964

Deep Night--Carmen Cavallaro, piano with orch. and female sextette, 1951

You and the Night and the Music--Andre Kostelanetz and His Orch., 1950 or earlier

P.S. I Love You--The Clebanoff Strings and Orch., 1964

Day Dream--Joe Reisman and His Orch., 1957

Joey's Song--Same

Tina--Bobby Vinton, Arr. and Cond. by Charles Carello, 1965

Forever Yours I Remain--Bobby Vinton, Arr. Burt Bacharach, 1965

The Night Has a Thousand Eyes--Vic Damone, Glenn Osser Orch. and Cho., 1959

I Wake up Crying--Tom Jones, 1968

School Is Out--Ray Ellis Orch. and Chorus, 1961

Pretty Little Angel Eyes--Same

Little Sister--Same

Stomp and Whistle--David Carroll and His Orch., 1954

Windy--The Ray Charles Singers, 1968

Mac Arthur Park--Horst Jankowski, 1968

And We Got Love (Ein Hoch der Liebe)--Same

Lee

Downbeat didn't "make this" at all, man. "Original Dixieland Jazz in Hi-Fi" (ABC-Paramount ABC-184; 1957)

 

Back in 1957, Downbeat reviewer "D.C." wrote, "This was a monumental labor of love, but for the life of me, I can’t see the point at all."  Um, did he not read the title--"Original Dixieland Jazz in Hi-Fi"?  Did he skip the notes?  By itself, the title describes the point of this LP.

The reviewer continued: "If jazz is creative, and I’m sure it’s agreed that jazz is just that, then this record must fall into the classification of a curiosity. It seems so pointless to me that musicians with the ability to recreate would rather do that than make something of their own and out of themselves."  Painstakingly recreating 1917 performances in hi-fi IS an act of creativity.  How could it not be?  The reviewer failed to clarify the precise nature of his objection(s), and so we can only guess.  I'm inclined to think he was asserting that jazz, to qualify as such, must be improvised.  And it's possible (no way to be sure) that his concept of improvisation leaned toward the false construct wherein five or more musicians simply "blow" whatever's in their head at the moment.  I hate to ruin anyone's delusions, but a successful jazz performance is more than not a thing of deliberation.

But I can't read minds, and so I can't be sure why this cat was unable to "make" this LP, since "jazz is creative" fails to account for his summary dismissal of this amazing effort.  Plus, given that I've never much cared what Downbeat thinks, I'm inclined to dismiss the review as meaningless.  Imagine a jazz performance in which no one had agreed on 1) the key, 2) the tune, 3) where and when to repeat the verse, if included, 4) the tempo, 5) who plays which solo, and so on.  It would be total cacophony.  That is, unless the players were telepathically united.  Simply put, there's no way to recreate the ODJB's sound without writing it down.  Duhh.

Oh, and there's also the myth that "written-down" jazz isn't jazz.  Right.  Which explains why jazz arranging is a requirement for a Berklee degree.  A for-real cool cat has to know how to write down notes-aroony, dig?

And, my first time listening to these amazing recreations, my reaction was, "They're putting too much of a modern spin on things."  And I figured that it was probably an unconscious "move" on their part.  Then it struck me that the original performances, heard in "modern" fidelity, would inevitably sound unlike the original acoustical 78s in many regards.  In terms of inflection, dynamics, and the soundscape in general.  We're hearing more, simply put.  And, listening to these tracks side by side with the originals, my revised verdict is that these guys did one hell of a fantastic (and worthwhile) job.

The five brilliant musicians are Don Fowler on cornet, George Phillips on trombone, Earl Jackson on clarinet, George Ruschka on piano, and Darrell Renfro on drums.  And it was Fowler who did the astounding task of notating each 1917 "head" arrangement. 

I have no trouble "making this" LP (Daddy-o, cat, man), and in fact it's one of the great, swingsville, can-you-dig-it thrift finds of my "career."  From before Goodwill went nuts and over-priced its vinyl, only to stop putting out vinyl altogether after it stopped selling.  (A major "landmarks in marketing" moment.)  What a shame.  I mean, any cool cat can dig that selling items at 50 cents to a buck means turning a profit.  Whereas, no sales=no bread.  Dig?  Well, clearly someone ain't makin' that scene.  

Anyway, fabulous stuff! 

DOWNLOAD: Original Dixieland Jazz Hi-Fi.zip

The Original Dixeland One-Step

Livery Stable Blues

At the Jazz Band Ball

Ostrich Walk

Tiger Rag

Skeleton Jangle

Sensation Rag

Bluin' the Blues

Clarinet Marmalade Blues 

Mournin' Blues

Fidgety Feet

Lazy Daddy

(Original Dixieland in Hi-Fi; ABC-Paramount ABC-184; 1957)

Lee, real gone

1974 and Windows 11

 I'm about to post a wonderful LP.  But first I want to note that I fully agree with musicman1979 and Ernie (and based, in part, on the former's notes re CSP label designs) that, in all probability, that 1974 set I sampled (below) likely came out in 1965 or 1966, not 1974, as stated at Discogs.  Problem is, the catalog number for the set doesn't seem to fit any scheme, and so I was unable to number-compare in guessing the year.

And, in attempt to delete an incomplete upload, I deleted something else.  What, I do not know.  This is thanks to Windows 11 and its epically wonky operation.  So, if you come across a recent share which has vanished, let me know.  With Windows 10, I always knew "where I was" on a page.  With 11, not nearly so much.

Lee

(Tracks from) The Unforgettable Years, Young and Warm and Wonderful (1968, 1974)

 

This is an augmented 2020 repost (I added three more numbers) featuring six selections from the 1974 J.C. Penney box set, The Unforgettable Years (specifically, the "Dance Time Discotheque" side--which, like the rest of the set, features '60s-era material), and 18 from the 1968 boxed set Young and Warm and Wonderful, another Columbia label mail-order set (This time, "a product of Columbia Musical Treasuries").  

And my main reason for reviving this post was my nostalgia for (and wish to reshare) the "Dance Time Discotheque" selections: Delightful big band treatments, much like Enoch Light's on Command and Si Zentner's on RCA, only minus any credit.  My favorite: Downtown, whose arrangement pleases me to no end, with Satisfaction's a close second.  Despite the 1974 release date, it's hard to imagine this session not occurring during the '60s.  As to what Toot, Toot, Tootsie! (Goodbye) is doing here, I can't begin to guess, but it's well done, so what the heck.  The remaining 114 (!) Unforgettable Years selections didn't make the cut, though I almost included Blowin' in the Wind and Mr. Tambourine Man from the "Folk Festival" disc.  However, those are done in a silly, sing-along "hootenanny" style--plus, they're in rough shape.  No great loss.

Next, from the seven-disc Young and Warm and Wonderful, we start with the New Dance Band, which gives us Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In, This Guy's in Love With You, Yesterday, and three more.  I'd have included California Dreaming, but that track is marred by distortion (either an instance of needle damage or a pressing flaw).

And I ripped all but two of the eleven selections by the In Group (I banished Misty, which--imo-doesn't belong with Land of 1000 Dances and Respect, while I can live without Hang On Sloopy in any version), and they are very much in the "fake" hit/sound-alike category (we could call them authentic fake hits)--and each very well done.  Light My Fire, it should be noted, copies the excellent Jose Feliciano version, though an imitation-Doors knockoff might have been interesting.  All would work nicely for my "Lee's Fake Hits" YouTube channel, except that they're not contemporaneous knockoffs.  That's one of my rules.

There's also the International Hits Orchestra (another likely-sounding appellation) with the world's worst fake of It's Not Unusual, along with superior sound-alikes of Don't Sleep in the Subway and Downtown.  Winchester Cathedral is an instrumental cover--and quite good.  As opposed to the Starlight Strings' Alfie and Strangers in the Night, two of my all-time favorite numbers, but rendered (even by easy-listening standards) indifferently.  Both seemed like can't-miss tracks, but... they missed.

A nice mix of fake hits and instrumental hit parade covers--all from Columbia House.  A mail-order special.

DOWNLOAD:   The Unforgettable Years, Young and Warm and Wonderful.zip

UNKNOWN ARTIST

Downtown

I Want to Hold Your Hand

I'm Telling You Now

Satisfaction

She Loves You

Toot, Toot, Tootsie! (Goodbye)

The Unforgettable Years: Dance Time Discotheque (Columbia Special Products CSS 375-84; 1974)

THE NEW DANCE BAND

Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In

This Guy's in Love With You

Yesterday

The Sound of Silence

What the World Needs Now

Up, up and Away

THE INTERNATIONAL HITS ORCHESTRA

It's Not Unusual

Don't Sleep in the Subway

Winchester Cathedral

Downtown

THE IN GROUP

The "In" Crowd

(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay

Land of 1000 Dances

Respect

Both Sides, Now

Mrs. Robinson

Anyone Who Had a Heart

Those Were the Days

Light My Fire

Young and Warm and Wonderful (Columbia Musical Treasuries P7S 5114; 1968)

Lee

Top Six--The Teenagers (sic) Choice: Beatlemania (1964)

A return post from 2020. Its link still works, and I recall that the audio quality is quite good, considering the much-played condition of the U.K. vinyl.  By now, I've probably heard 80 percent of the budget Beatles knock-offs--from dreadful to adequate--of this period, and this my pick for the jewel of the fake-Beatlemania crown.

 Lee

DOWNLOAD: Beatlemania--Artists Unknown (Top Six TSL 1; 1964)


Fake Beatles tonight.  (That sound like the title of a Broadway comedy.)  Why fake Beatles tonight?  Because fake Beatles are fun, and faked Fab Four records were pretty much an industry unto themselves, so they're a big part of sound recording history.  A big part of the underground thereof, anyway.  And because it's giving me a break from stressing.  Hope it can perform that feat for some of you, too.  This 1964 British LP, titled Beatlemania (no attempt at exploitation there), has its expected bad moments (and bad tracks, like Please Please Me), but considering the rushed nature of the product, it's fairly amazing.  As in, legitimately good overall.  It captures the George Martin production sound with much skill--maybe by accident; I don't know.  But it is by far the best Beatles copy I've yet heard--and it's a whole LPful, which is not a word, but so what.  I read someplace the name of the group that allegedly did these tracks, but of course I've been unable to re-find that info.  It may not even be true.  But I can say without Google confirmation that these guys are good--the lead guitarist, especially.  This very used copy played amazingly well with my entry-audiophile cartridge and stylus at 1.5 grams (which I did not expect), and VinylStudio did superbly on the many clicks.  The sound is bright and full.

The front jacket says (I believe) eleven shillings and one pence, which was a little over half a pound.  That was for twelve hits.  Top Six singles (with six hits, of course) were six shillings and eight pence.  In pure junk-label fashion, there are no liner notes, and the back cover contains only an unpunctuated track listing and an ad for Top Six singles.  My kind of LP!

I wonder what the L in "TSL" stood for.  "Top Six...?"  Lemons?  Laugh riots?  Hm.  Probably "Limited."  At any rate, if you can forgive the absurd moments, I think you'll find it a remarkably good effort.  And, if you don't, I still will.  Note how the mystery studio group messes up a line (actually, two) in the first number.  It's supposed to be, "When I'll say that something: I want to hold your hand."  Even as a kid, I got that, except I thought "I'll" was "I."  As did these guys, too.  Anyway, they sing it, "When I say that someday, I want to hold your hand."  Huh?  The singer is expressing a present desire, not a future one.  "I assure you that someday I'll want to hold your hand.  But only after this pandemic is over."  Anyway, the Beatles were known for doubling words: "something" shows up twice in the first verse.  It's as if these underpaid pros were rushing to junk-label deadline.  Come to think of it....

Money is maybe the finest fake of the bunch, in good part because the lead singer sounds uncannily like John Lennon.  This LP is the definition of fun.  And proof that fake hits sometimes transcended the awful-to-medium curve.  Enjoy!

UPDATE: Apparently, the drummer on this LP was Jimmy Nichol, who subbed for Ringo with the Beatles in an international tour when Ringo had tonsillitis.  Read about it here.  Some info on Top Six, too.  I'd read about this before at various sites but suspected it was an urban legend.  I guess not!

Lee