From the Back Room: Sue Raney Singles

This is another post resulting from my offer of the contents of Buster's Back Room. One of the most requested was Sue Raney, a gifted singer who has never achieved the renown she deserves. Sue is one of our greatest living vocalists, although her name would surely be unfamiliar to most people.

Here we are concentrating on her early years, when she already was a voice with few peers, collecting all her non-album singles for Capitol, along with some singles from the Imperial label, plus a bonus obscure release from 1974.

This post is an expanded and reworked version of one that I published many years ago. There are 23 songs in all.

Capitol Singles

The first Capitols

Raney was first heard on a record issued by small label from Kansas City (which I do not have). She was signed by Capitol in 1956, when she was about 17. Here first release seems to be from the Ray Anthony-Mamie Van Doren filmic escapade The Girl Can't Help It. Sue was allotted a number called "Ev'rytime," not to be confused with Martin and Blane's "Ev'ry Time." Sue is superb in this good song from Tony Iovello and Mel Levine, backed by Ray's orchestra. It's an amazing performance for a 17-year-old.

Soon thereafter, the label issued the "promotional debut record" above, with one of the cool picture labels it was then using for some promos. The initial plug side was "What's the Good Word, Mr. Bluebird," a conventional period pop item; still, it is not unattractive.

Capitol also promoted its discmate (see below), the title tune from the teen-angst weepie The Careless Years, which Sue handles nicely. IMDb tells us that this was heard on the soundtrack as well, where she also did something called "Butterfingers Baby," but I somehow let that number slip through my fingers and you won't find it here. (Actually, I don't think it was issued on record.)

Picture sleeve for DJ copy

"Please Hurry Home" and "Don't Take My Happiness" were next, followed by her vocal chorus on a Nelson Riddle record of "Til There Was You," an excellent version that was issued before The Music Man opened on Broadway. All these predate Raney's first LP.

The year 1958 brought "My, My, How The Time Goes By" and "Periwinkle Blue," followed by 1958's "The Restless Sea" (quite wonderful) and "Ever," Raney's own composition.

Then in 1959 there were "I Don't Look Right Without You" and "Swingin' In A Hammock." From 1960, backed by Bill Holman, we have "Biology," "Too Soon," "One Finger Symphony" and "The Word Got Around." 

"Biology" is a raucous quasi-rocker, "Too Soon" a pleasant ballad. In general, these singles attempted to hit the halfway point between vocal pop and rock. They are enjoyable although the rock instrumentation and backing singers seem more dated than, say, Nelson Riddle's chart for "'Til There Was You." Bob Bain's rockabilly-style guitar solo in "Don't Take My Happiness" is very enjoyable, though.

Imperial Singles

In the 60s, Raney moved on to Philips for one LP and no singles (as far as I can tell), then to Imperial for several LPs and a clutch of 45s. My collection of the Imperial singles is not complete but does include six songs.

The first such item is "Try to See It My Way," a Bacharach-David song from the TV special On the Flip Side, beautifully done. It was backed by "There Goes My Everything," a country song that became a pop hit for Engelbert Humperdinck.

Next is the title tune to the 1967 suspense film Wait Until Dark, a fine Mancini composition with Livingston and Evans supplying the words. It was backed by "Parade (A Banda)," a hectic Brazilian song that was popular back then. The latter does provide an opportunity for Sue to demonstrate her vocal chops.

The best number in this group - at least to me - is her version of "Knowing When to Leave," a Bacharach-David song from the 1968 musical Promises, Promises. Her subtle singing, even amidst the busy Bill Byers arrangement and cramped recording, is a wonder. Too bad it's backed by the worst song in the bunch, the lamentable flower-power tune "Early Morning Blues and Greens."

Finally, on the obscure Alithia label, there's a bonus cut of Raney's own "Never Say Goodbye" from 1974. The song is good, but the backing, with its loud electric bass and soul-style backing group, screams the early 70s, which to me is not a good thing.

Please note: I mentioned that I was going to add two transcriptions, from Sue's appearances on The Navy Swings and Treasury Department Guest Star programs, but it slipped my mind that these did not contain unique material, only cuts from Sue's first two Capitol LPs. So I have not included them.

LINK to Capitol and Imperial singles

Bob Manning - The Complete Capitol Singles

The sonorous baritone Bob Manning has been heard several times on this blog, most recently with a post of his sole Capitol LP, the excellent Lonely Spell. For today's offering, I've assembled his complete Capitol singles, 32 sides in all dating from 1952-55.

Although there are some standards mixed into the group, for the most part Manning was dependent on the songwriters of the day for material. And while Capitol did provide songs from some of the better-known composers of the day, some of the material is mundane. There is much to be enjoyed, however.

Manning's first Capitol release - and his biggest hit - was a standard, "The Nearness of You." The singer actually produced this recording himself, probably in 1952, and brought it to Capitol, seeking a contract. It worked, and he was on his way to the most productive part of his career.

"The Nearness of You" was coupled with "Gypsy Girl," from the young tandem of Jerry Ross and Richard Adler, who would have two huge hits on Broadway just a few years later - The Pajama Game and Damn Yankees. Leading the orchestra was Monty Kelly, who also conducted Lonely Spell and several of the records below.

In January 1953, Manning was in a New York City studio with Sid Feller for a Capitol date that produced "The Sun Is Getting Ready to Shine," a giddy, galloping piece from Adler and Ross. More to my taste - and better suited to Manning's style - was "You Can Live with a Broken Heart."

In May, the team of Manning and Feller (who also was a Capitol A&R man) again collaborated for two songs. The better known is "It's All Right with Me," from Cole Porter's score for Can-Can, then on Broadway. "All I Desire" came from the Douglas Sirk Hollywood melodrama of the same name.

By July 1953, Manning had become Cash Box's most impressive new artist

For an August date, Capitol again paired standards with lesser-known songs. Rodgers and Hart's "It's Easy to Remember" was packaged with the Bernie Wayne-Hy Gilbert "I Feel So Mmmm," which was as unappealing as the title sounds. Ray Noble's wonderful "The Very Thought of You" was backed by the earnestly ridiculous "Venus Di Milo." ("Where are the arms and heart of you?", Manning pleads.) Monty Kelly was back in charge of the orchestra.

Capitol unaccountably gave a big push to "Venus Di Milo" - see the Cash Box cover below.

Click to enlarge

The final session of 1953, in late November, was with a small group featuring trumpeter Bobby Hackett. Capitol had enjoyed great success with Hackett providing obbligatos for soupy instrumental LPs issued under the name of comedian Jackie Gleason. This session, however, produced only one issued number, the oldie "You Made Me Love You (I Didn't Want to Do It)," which is associated with both Al Jolson and Judy Garland. Manning and Hackett do OK by the song, although the singer was not a belter in the style of Jolie or Judy, and Hackett for once is too intrusive.

From Capitol's Music Views magazine

For Manning's next Capitol session, in early January 1954, the label matched him with the excellent Nelson Riddle for four songs. First was Gordon Jenkins' lovely but tragic "Good-bye," which was backed by the silly "That's a-Me and My Love."

That same session produced a coupling of "Why Didn't You Tell Me" and "I Wasn't There with You," two little-known but worthwhile songs. Both are beautifully done, with superior arrangements. Manning of course excelled with this romantic material.

An uncredited George Siravo led the band for an August 1954 date that yielded the sing-songy "I'm a Fool for You" along with a coupling of "Just for Laughs" and "The Other Side of the Story." "Just for Laughs" is a standard by the talented Bennie Benjamin and George Weiss. "The Other Side of the Story" (and record) was written by clarinetist Joe Marsala, whose biggest songwriting hit was "Don't Cry Joe" a few years before. It's not a bad number, and Manning is sympathetic.

Billboard ad, December 1954

Manning's next session, in December 1954, yielded perhaps his most unusual record. The song is question was used a plot device for a "Honeymooners" sketch from Jackie Gleason's television show. In the episode, the bus driver Ralph Kramden (Gleason) and sewer worker Ed Norton (Art Carney) try to get rich by writing a popular song inspired by the noises of their tenement (shades of "Tenement Symphony"). The music and lyrics for the resulting number, "My Love Song to You," were supplied by Roy Alfred and Al Frisch, with the vocals by Manning.

Ironically, the plot has the publisher throwing out Kramden's lyrics in favor of a professional's work - but the sheet music shows Gleason on the cover in his bus driver's outfit.

For the flip side, Capitol chose a revival of Roy Turk and Charles Tobias' 1928 hit "After My Laughter Came Tears."

A few days later, Manning was back in the studio with Monty Kelly for a date that produced four numbers. "The Mission San Michel" is one of those songs where the singer, accompanied by a heavenly choir, prays for someone to love, who then miraculously appears. The whole scenario seems vaguely blasphemous (not to mention ridiculous), but Manning's sincerity wins out. Its coupling, "You Are There," is a not unpleasant but completely conventional ballad.

Monty Kelly not only backed Bob Manning on his recording of "Majorca," he did an instrumental version for Essex

Manning and Kelly do great justice to the European hit "Majorca (Isle of Love)," an attractive song that was a hit for the young Petula Clark. The coupling was the equally attractive "It's Your Life" from the prolific Charles Tobias, working with Nat Simon.

For the balance of his Capitol stay, Manning recorded only newer songs for single release. He was distinctly better at standards, but they were confined to his Lonely Spell LP. He and Sid Feller recorded four of those newer songs in April 1955. First, the inoffensive "This Is No Laughing Matter" was backed with "What a Wonderful Way to Die," by the amazingly prolific and inconsistent Bob Merrill. This is one of his cruder compositions.

"This Is All Very New to Me" at least had the pedigree of being from a Broadway hit, Plain and Fancy, the Albert Hague-Arnold Horwitt musical that ran for more than a year. Its coupling is "Whose Heart Are You Breaking Now?" by Teddy Powell writing under the name Freddy James.

Cash Box still considered Manning a future star in mid-1955

Most of Manning's remaining Capitol sessions were devoted to his LP. An August 1955 date with Monty Kelly did yield a single coupling of "I Better Be Careful" and "Honestly," both by the interesting team of Charles Singleton and Rose Marie McCoy. The duo started out writing R&B songs, then veered into pop territory. Singleton's biggest successes came later in writing lyrics for two Bert Kaempfert instrumentals that were turned into the huge 1960s hits, "Strangers in the Night" and "Spanish Eyes." Manning had no such luck with his tunes.

The singer's final assignment with Capitol was devoted to "Beggar or King," by the highly successful duo of Sid Tepper and Roy Bennett, and "The Day We Fell in Love," by the eminent Jerry Bock working with his first collaborator, Larry Holofcener. They aren't bad songs, but not as successful as Tepper's "Red Roses for a Blue Lady" or Bock's "Matchmaker, Matchmaker."

This last coupling came from a October 1955 date that the Capitol sessionography lists as being directed by Monty Kelly and the label insists was led by Earl Sheldon. My guess is that Kelly wrote the arrangements.

Manning then was to move on to RCA Victor, while his producer Sid Feller switched to ABC-Paramount. Feller subsequently produced and arranged for Ray Charles for 30 years.

Sid Feller with Ray Charles

Let me thank Nigel Burlinson for once again supplying discographical information, which makes endeavors such as this possible. The records themselves came from my collection and Internet Archive transfers. The sound is generally excellent.

If there are any Manning completists out there other than me, let me mention that Capitol's 1990s "Great Ladies and Gentlemen of Song" release devoted to the singer includes two previously unissued songs that aren't covered here.

I am preparing another post covering Manning's earliest recordings, dating from 1947-50.

Two 'Harlow' Scores, from Hefti and Riddle

Screen siren Jean Harlow had been dead for nearly three decades when Hollywood suddenly decided that her story was so compelling it demanded two separate "Harlow" biopics, which reached theaters about a month apart in 1965.

Neither film was very successful, although the second and glossier version, with Carroll Baker in the lead, fared better with critics than the quickie that cast Carol Lynley as the ill-fated star.

Fortunately for us, the separate producers (who reputedly hated one another) saw fit to engage two of the best musicians then working, Neal Hefti and Nelson Riddle, to handle the scores. Today's post provides the resulting soundtrack LPs. Both are highly enjoyable.

Lobby card

Hefti helmed the Carroll Baker film, producing a characteristic score that does not attempt in any way to capture the musical styles of the 30s, at least in the cuts heard here. The LP goes so far as to include 60s-esque tunes titled "Carroll Baker A-Go-Go," with prominent electric guitar and organ, and "Lonely Girl Bossa Waltz."

But then, the LP is labelled "Music from the Score of the Motion Picture," so what we hear on the record may be at some distance from what moviegoers experienced. For example, Bobby Vinton sang the theme song over the titles, where here on the album it is handled by a chorus. The lyrics were by Livingston and Evans, a fact only mentioned on the label. Side note: Burt Bacharach and Hal David wrote two songs for the picture, "Harlow" and "Say Goodbye," which weren't used.

The best known tune on the record is "Girl Talk," which achieved some renown as a pop song after acquiring Bobby Troup's notoriously sexist lyrics. The LP version is instrumental, so as a bonus I have added Tony Bennett's superb rendition, also arranged and conducted by Hefti. Here, as elsewhere in the score, the composer achieves memorable results from simple, repetitive riffs.

Lobby card

Nelson Riddle had no such pop success with his competing score for the Carol Lynley "Harlow." His efforts were not notably improved by a few flowery songs from pop producer Al Ham, with lyrics by Marilyn and Alan Bergman. The vocal versions of the songs are beautifully done by Mary Mayo, Ham's wife.

Riddle's own material is gorgeous as always, notably "Come to Me." He uses some period effects in the score, although he undershot the mark with "Wake Up." Its wah-wah trumpet and banjo are more reminiscent of the 20s than the 30s.

If neither musical score recaptured the time in which Harlow lived, the same may be true of the films themselves. Baker and Lynley were beautiful women and accomplished actors, but neither captured Harlow's unique look, with penetrating eyes set off by platinum hair, arched eyebrows and bow lips, nor her charisma. Those were Harlow's alone.

Baker, Harlow, Lynley

Mr. B Sings R&H with Riddle

Quincy Jones said of Billy Eckstine after his death that had the singer been white, he would have had a career in television and the movies, not just as a singer. This is quite possibly true, for Eckstine was a very handsome man and a style-setter. It's likely that his considerable mid-century popularity would have been even greater but for the accident of his race.

An article in The Crisis at the time notes that Eckstine and other African American artists appearing in Las Vegas in the early 50s could not stay in the hotels there. Nor was this unusual. It's remarkable to recall that strict segregation was pervasive even within my own lifetime.

That's why it is always interesting to me to read commentary that seems rueful that Eckstine left his jazz roots behind to become a pop singer; it's as if people wanted him to remain in his own niche and not try for broader success and fame, elusive though it might be.

Eckstine started out as the singer with the Earl Hines orchestra, then led his own big band that was an incubator of bop in the 40s. He began recording for M-G-M in 1947 and quickly began having hits with the highly romantic ballads that were then popular. He was at the height of his success in 1949 and 1950, not just selling records but winning magazine polls.

Billboard ad

By late 1952, when this record came out, he was still a success but the romantic style was giving way to new approaches. This record of Rodgers and Hammerstein songs apparently did not sell as well as Eckstine's earlier LPs, and today seems to be considerably scarce. I don't in fact have a copy of it myself, so I am grateful to Will Friedwald and David Lennick for making it available to me and readers of this blog.

It's particularly notable that the charts on this record are by Nelson Riddle, who had achieved some success already with Nat Cole and soon would start working with Frank Sinatra. This is Riddle at his most romantic, not Nelson the swinger. The songs are all familiar with the possible exception of So Far, which is from one of the least successful Rodgers and Hammerstein efforts, 1947's Allegro.

The album is a gorgeous collection from a singer who inspired a generation of virile baritones, including Johnny Hartman and Arthur Prysock. Thanks again to Will and David for making it available.

The Real Joy of Living Is . . . Beer?

Back in the late 50s, the Schlitz Brewing Co. came up with a slogan insisting that you could "know the real joy of good living" by drinking its beer. A dubious proposition to be sure, but one that was powerful enough to propel to the top of the beer market for some years.

Schlitz's agency turned the slogan into a jingle, as was the practice back then, and then the jingle was turned into a song. Or maybe it was the other way around - I'm not sure. But whether chicken or egg came first, eventually Nelson Riddle got involved and a number of records ensued.

What we have here is a Schlitz promotional EP featuring Riddle, with the commercial jingle and the song, Know the Real Joy of Good Living, featuring chorus. As far as I know, these Riddle arrangements are otherwise unissued. Riddle did include the song on his Capitol LP, the Joy of Living, although in a completely different, instrumental version. The Schlitz EP depicted the cover of the Riddle LP on its back (see below).

The flip side of the EP contained two Riddle instrumentals that are not on the Joy of Living LP. I'm not sure if they were otherwise released, although I would assume they were. The download includes all the material from the promotional EP and the instrumental version from the Joy of Living LP.

One parenthetical note: singing on the commercial is Jamie Silvia, of the J's with Jamie, one of the leading commercial voices of the time. A superb singer, she, her husband Joe and their group first became well known for their commercial work, and then began making records for Columbia in the 1960s. I have an LP they self-issued that is half Columbia material and half commercials. Also in the group was Len Dresslar, who later made many records (and commercials) with the Singers Unlimited.

REMASTERED VERSION