Reupload - The Wanted - In The Midnight Hour

 

Storming, urgent garage rock burst of the Pickett classic

Label: A&M

Year of Release: 1967

"In The Midnight Hour" is one of those songs which has has always been buzzing somewhere in the background all my life - on the radio, at parties, in the set of that well-meaning sixth form college covers band who played 'all the classics' their teenage abilities could cope with, on a relative's Atlantic soul compilation in the car... and there is probably nobody reading this right now who hasn't heard it.

However, in the sixties its simplicity made it an attractive set choice for the numerous young garage bands popping up all over the USA, meaning that besides Pickett's powerful and popular original rendition, there are a number of others which sound like a bunch of speedy spotty herberts thrashing around as if the 'midnight hour' in question couldn't come quickly enough. 

The Wanted's rendition is probably my favourite of that set. Sacrificing groove and soul for thrash and fury, it picks the song up, grabs it by the arms and swings around their cramped quarters, bashing it against the walls and ceiling and leaving it in a heap after less than two minutes. Like the best garage tracks, it translates the energy and attitude of a strong but chaotic live show to vinyl with effectiveness, making you feel as if you can taste the cheap, fizzy beer on tap and smell the armpits of the fat bald man in front of you (so maybe it's not all good, then). 

The group were from Grosse Pointe in Michigan. They consisted of Arnie DeClark on rhythm guitar, Dave Fermstrum on organ, Bill Montgomery on bass, Tim Shea on lead guitar and Chip Steiner on drums. According to the Garage Hangover website, the owner of the Detroit Sound label they began releasing records on was the drummer's father Irv Steiner, a mightily convenient connection that presumably enabled them to put out rockers like this one on a label usually reserved for proper soul releases. Sometimes nepotism can work out well for all of us.

The Adventurers - (Jane) Doesn't Love Me Anymore/ Cheryl's Song

 

Messy garage rock screamer from Catasauqua, Pennsylvania

Label: Reading

Year of Release: 1967

Collectors and appreciators of sixties garage rock can probably guess exactly what this one sounds like before they even click on the mp3. Droning organ mixed relatively low? Check. Uncertain guitar work bouyed up by enthusiasm and vim rather than technique? Yep. Basic lyrical references to a girl who just isn't paying the singer attention these days, and it's causing him pain? You're good at this, aren't you? Lots of screams, and shouts of "Yeah! Yeah! Weeeooowww!" Of course. It's not as loose, wild or ragged as some examples of the genre I've heard, but it's certainly shot through with energy and glee. 

The Adventurers (and not Adventures as suggested on the label) were from Catasauqua in Pennsylvania, a suburb of Allentown. They had two singles out in the sixties - this one, and "Baby Baby My Heart" in 1966. Neither did very much outside the local area and the band's history is rather sketchy as a result. 

We know that the members consisted of Armedeo Borsetti, Jim Smith, Dave Wagner and Denny Wagner, but in terms of their roles, we can only say with any degree of certainty that Dave Wagner was the bassist, given that he later moved on to the Allentown group The Dooley Invention to pick up four-stringed duties. That group didn't appear to issue any vinyl at the time, but their tracks "Crimson Afternoon" and "No Time" did emerge on the 2005 local CD compilation "Allentown Anglophile". 

The Coachmen - The News Is Out/ Girl In The Wind

Two sides of dreamy melancholic garage

Label: Target

Year of Release: 1969

Well here's a tricky conundrum. There have been an absolute ton of sixties acts called The Coachmen, which has naturally resulted in enormous confusion. In typical Spinal Tap-esque fashion, some of these Coachmen became aware of identically named acts and changed their names accordingly, but others seemingly didn't. Nobody had the Internet then and tiny garage acts from different parts of the USA often operated in blissful ignorance of each other.

So (*takes deep breath*) there was The Coachmen from Nebraska, The Coachmen from Memphis, The Coachmen from Milwaukee who changed their name to the Mourning Dayze after finding out there were some other Coachmen in the same area, and The other Coachmen from Milwaukee who didn't change their names at all, plus The Five Coachmen from Texas and The Royal Coachmen from Michigan. There may be even be others, and indeed the seventies saw yet more Coachmen emerging besides the ones I've just mentioned. It's confusing. 

Luckily, it's very easy to establish that this lot are the original Milwaukee Coachmen (who didn't change their names) and if that turns out to be incorrect information, I'll happily get on an overnight coach myself from London to Glasgow as punishment. This group consisted of Jim Kaminski on lead guitar, Ray Johnson on vocals, Leon Kleckowski on drums, Rick Pries on organ and Jeff Greenthal on bass. 

They managed two singles on the local Target Records in 1969 of which this was the first. Both sides here are a subtle delight, filled with dreamy vocal harmonies, droning organ sounds and lo-fi but nonetheless blissful and intricate arrangements. By the close of the decade there's no doubt that this kind of thing probably felt dated and more in tune with the boho scene of '66, but from a 2022 perspective its one to stick on your compilation of Autumnal heartbroken sixties garage sounds. 

Race Marbles - Like A Dribbling Fram/ Someday

Novelty word salad Dylan parody

Label: Capitol

Year of Release: 1965

When Radio DJs try to parody or mock the dominant musical trends of the day, we tend to get a flavour of how invested they really are. A lot of radio DJs, after all, view themselves as being part of a strange branch of light entertainment which involves being a charismatic chatterer between bits of music being played. They often didn't forge their careers out of a love of music but a desire for more people to hear their voices. To mock a singer, band or movement, you really have to get under the skin of it first and listen; a tough task for that tribe. 

Occasionally radio DJs have chanced their arm and put out their own parody tunes on 45, and it's seldom above the level of mediocre. There have been moments in the UK where someone has hit the nail on the head unbelievably well  - Steve Wright's crew managed to invent Scooter with their Terminator inspired 45, for example, and Chris Morris' parody of Pixies is so spot on it hurts - but in general, it's not an area filled with rich pickings.

So let's take a look at this exhibit. Over in Toronto in 1965, DJ Gary Ferrier was obviously troubled by Bob Dylan's top three hit "Like A Rolling Stone" and felt that it was a bloody strange racket at best. He responded with this, a parody of the record which mocks the "nonsense" lyrics (which, certainly by Dylan's standards, are anything but) and the threadbare roughness of the sound. Word salad lyrics ("Are you cleaving your scram? / Is your clam in a jam? / Like a dribbling fram") meet amateur musicianship and a tuneless squawking harmonica hits notes randomly while the lyrics whack into berserk, child-like imagery.

What's interesting about the 45 is that we're hearing Dylan through Ferrier's ears, and/or the ears of some of the era's "squares" as well. Listening back to it now in 2021, "Like A Rolling Stone" is a coherent piece of classic rock, overloaded with bitterness, passion, triumphalism and despair, a sweet and sour concoction which is always placed near the top of Dylan's achievements for many good reasons - very few 45s manage to overload so many emotions into such a brief performance. However, certainly for a number of listeners in 1965, this noise sounded unusual, incoherent and unacceptable, an overload of bad singing, strange imagery and amateurism. This is the gallery Ferrier is unquestionably playing to, and it worked. "Dribbling Fram" was a minor Top 40 hit in his home country and even picked up attention in the USA (where it was also released). 

Reupload - The Germz/ Lit Candle - No Easy Way Down/ Boy Girl Love

 

First outing for brilliant Goffin/King ballad by New York garage band

Label: Cotique

Year of Release: 1967 and 1969

This is becoming something of a sought-after record for 60s garage collectors, in whatever guise it takes. The Germz were formed from the remains of a New York band called Terry and the Pirates, and consisted of Wendy Hirsch on vocals, Marty Green on keyboards, Bob Tobin on lead guitar, Jefferson Travis on rhythm guitar, Doug Smith on bass and Shelly Unger on drums. After a spell of local popularity, in early 1967 they inked a deal with the Roulette subsidiary label Vertigo and headed off to record these two tracks at Miramound Studios. 

It's the B-side which tends to get all the attention in the present day, being a piece of quirky, organ-driven garage pop with the most warped and wobbly sounding clarion calls you'll have heard since The Human League's "(Keep Feeling) Fascination". Propulsive, bouyant, and charmingly (rather than ineptly) loose sounding, it's a strange and sharp sounding recording which nags away at you long after the needle has left the run-out groove behind.

Amidst the more recent fuss, though, the A-side seems to have been overlooked or even dismissed by some, which is a deep pity. The Goffin-King composition "No Easy Way Down" has subsequently been recorded by Dusty Springfield, Carole King herself, and Scott Walker (quite drearily, actually, on his under-achieving "Stretch" LP) among others, but so far as I can ascertain this was the first released version. This might appear to have been a risky or eccentric decision on the songwriting duo's part, but I suspect the fact that the drummer Shelly Ungan was Gerry Goffin's cousin might not be a complete coincidence. Nonetheless, it's a beautiful version of the track, with Wendy's vocals sounding so youthful, spirited, spontaneous and powerful that it's hard to believe that it took the producer George Goldner twenty takes before he was satisfied with her performance. Amazingly, what we can hear is in fact the result of numerous takes of her performance being spliced together.

The resulting single hit number 48 in the local New York charts and number 35 in the Boston charts before disappearing altogether. Internal politics at the record company between Roulette bigwig Morris Levy and George Goldner caused the single to be scrapped after only 2,000 copies were released on to the marketplace, after which it did a big sod off forever. Even the master tapes were apparently wiped.

Reupload - Changin' Times - Pied Piper/ Thank You Babe

The original - and best - garage rock version of the Crispian St Peters hit

Label: Philips

Year of Release (in the US): 1965

Now here's an odd find - a South African pressing of a low charting American garage single. The Changin' Times "Pied Piper" managed to climb into the lower reaches of the Billboard Top 100 on its release in 1965, but response to the record in the UK was downright indifferent on its issue here, and it took our native arrogant young gunslinger Crispian St. Peters to turn it into a monster top ten hit with a smoother, bouncier, and actually inferior version.

Maybe the original was just a bit too rough around the edges for British tastes at that time, but I think it's a thing of total wonder. From the incessant flute riff through to the raw and craggy Dylan-esque vocals, it's one of the finer pieces of pop to burst out of the naive nooks and crannies of American garage rock. Lyrically it's possible to view the disc as either being an approving nod to beatnik culture and the bourgeoning hippy movement, or an utter piss-take - my wife is utterly convinced that it's actually a fairly snarky piece of satire (the use of the phrase "so fall in line" perhaps being a criticism of the hero-worship the likes of Dylan received rather than being approving). Whatever your end conclusion, musically it's simple, sharp and delightful, and probably not seeking out underground credibility with its endless hooks.

The flip is even more raw than the A-side, throwing a rasping harmonica and spirited vocals against a thrown together minute-and-a-half ditty. It consists of the victory of youthful enthusiasm over ability and budget that so many garage records have in spades.

Reupload - What Four - Stop In The Name Of Love/ Asparagus

Demented garage rock, and yes, the B-side is about the all-American goodness of that vegetable - though I think it's a satire on "squares" and "straights"

Label: Tower

Year of Release: 1968

Once every so often I stumble upon a sixties garage punk single that really causes me to pull "WTF?" faces. This shouldn't happen often, of course... I've been around the block enough times to realise that a lot of garage singles are highly bizarre artefacts, so I'm already prepared. But still, when I purchased this one, I felt sure that what I'd be getting was an uptempo, abrasive take on the Supremes classic. And what I got instead was...

Well, it's hard to describe this version of "Stop In The Name Of Love". The first listen to it is highly perplexing, as the band choose to make all the most quirky sounds at the places you'd least expect them. The "Think it over" segment of the original tune, for example, is the calm after the huge warning sign of the chorus. What Four instead place a clanking, pounding riff behind it that makes it sound like an extension of the chorus's hysteria, the next level up. This is not a pop song anymore, it's the noise of five railway barriers sounding off simultaneously through valve amplifiers.

I had hoped that this might be a good single to DJ with, but I suspect it might actually clear dance floors. It's not a bad record by any means, and I actually enjoy its peculiar elements hugely, it's just too irregular for most dancers to be able to make a connection with. I suspect the point of inspiration may have been Vanilla Fudge's version of "You Keep Me Hanging On", but "Stop" here is much more abrasive and stripped back.

The B-side "Asparagus" is possibly a bit more promising in the dance-floor department, being a proper uptempo garage pounder with layers of lyrical absurdity about accepting the universal goodness of American asparagus over the top. I suspect its a metaphor for the kind of meaningless middle-of-the-road demands made by "squares", readers. But the track has a loose, rhythmically simple enthusiastic drive behind it, akin to the kind of garage rock you might suspect Jack White would most enjoy.

Reupload - Jimmy Gordon - Test Pattern/ 1980

Two fuzzy garage instros from the creator of cult classic "Buzzzzzz"

Label: Challenge

Year of Release: 1967

Jimmy Gordon's 1963 surf instrumental "Buzzzzzz" is one of the more sought-after records of its genre, having an absolute overload of fuzz guitar and riff-ridden drama. Much bootlegged and compiled and blogged since, not much more needs to be added about its existence.

The 1967 follow-up single "Test Pattern/ 1980", on the other hand, has been given shorter shrift. As a sucker for all things remotely whiffing of television testcards, the track's title sucked me in. Rather than featuring a sinister screeching noise throughout its duration, or any reference to nervous girls with chalky fingers playing noughts and crosses with evil clowns, it's yet another instrumental with a twangy, fuzzy edge to it. By 1967 this surely felt slightly like old hat and its failure to hit the charts won't have been a surprise, though it has worked its way on to a compilation for psychedelic instrumentals since. So perhaps not...

The flip "1980" has more of a mellow, jazzy vibe to it, but pretty much stays true to the formula. Both sides are worth your time, with neither one really having the edge over the other in terms of quality.

The Wanted - In The Midnight Hour/ Here To Stay

Storming, urgent garage rock burst of the Pickett classic

Label: A&M

Year of Release: 1967

"In The Midnight Hour" is one of those songs which has has always been buzzing somewhere in the background all my life - on the radio, at parties, in the set of that well-meaning sixth form college covers band who played 'all the classics' their teenage abilities could cope with, on a relative's Atlantic soul compilation in the car... and there is probably nobody reading this right now who hasn't heard it.

However, in the sixties its simplicity made it an attractive set choice for the numerous young garage bands popping up all over the USA, meaning that besides Pickett's powerful and popular original rendition, there are a number of others which sound like a bunch of speedy spotty herberts thrashing around as if the 'midnight hour' in question couldn't come quickly enough. 

The Wanted's rendition is probably my favourite of that set. Sacrificing groove and soul for thrash and fury, it picks the song up, grabs it by the arms and swings around their cramped quarters, bashing it against the walls and ceiling and leaving it in a heap after less than two minutes. Like the best garage tracks, it translates the energy and attitude of a strong but chaotic live show to vinyl with effectiveness, making you feel as if you can taste the cheap, fizzy beer on tap and smell the armpits of the fat bald man in front of you (so maybe it's not all good, then). 

The group were from Grosse Pointe in Michigan. They consisted of Arnie DeClark on rhythm guitar, Dave Fermstrum on organ, Bill Montgomery on bass, Tim Shea on lead guitar and Chip Steiner on drums. According to the Garage Hangover website, the owner of the Detroit Sound label they began releasing records on was the drummer's father Irv Steiner, a mightily convenient connection that presumably enabled them to put out rockers like this one on a label usually reserved for proper soul releases. Sometimes nepotism can work out well for all of us.

The Unknowns - Tighter/ Young Enough To Cry

Members of Paul Revere and The Raiders in a contractually necessary 'mystery' guise

Label: Marlin

Year of Release: 1967

When bands emerged in the sixties with names like "The Guess Who" or "The You Know Who Group", the management and label responsible were usually hoping radio programmers and the general public would be suckered by the idea that it was The Beatles or The Stones in disguise. Usually, the story was blander and simpler, and behind those vague monikers lay hungry musicians or producers desperate for a hit. 

On very rare occasions, though, there would be famous people behind the record, and lo and behold, here we have a bona-fide example of that. The Unknowns consist of Mark Lindsay and Keith Allison of Paul Revere and The Raiders collaborating with friend and non-top 40 recording artist Steve Alaimo. The individuals all met while Alaimo was musical director on the television series "Where The Action Is", and began to scheme about the possibility of putting some of The Raiders' lesser known LP tracks across to a wider audience. 

The slightly blandly named The Unknowns were the resulting mystery band, with the individuals in question lying low in order to avoid being caught breaking their respective recording contracts. This had the obvious disadvantage of causing the group to be unable to promote their own releases. The first, "Melody for an Unknown Girl", got to number 74 in the Billboard charts despite this, but the second single "Tighter" seemed to totally fail to capture anyone's attention.

Reupload - Brotherly Lovers - If You Need A Love Song/ Our Favorite Hill

Rough and ready garage ballad from New York

Label: eskee

Year of Release: 1966

Brotherly Lovers are responsible for a garage track called "Was A Lie" which has been talked about enthusiastically online for awhile now. Rough and imperfect, it sounds as if was recorded for a few cents, and even they were probably fed into the electricity meter just to keep the session going.  Like so much of its ilk, though, it possesses a charm that some contemporary hits of the time lacked.

Far less has been written about its follow-up "If You Need A Love Song", despite - or perhaps because of - the fact that this seems to be the release where Brotherly Lovers had smoothed off some of the rough edges. Sounding less buzzsaw and agitated in approach and more akin to an aspiring folk-rock group, it showcases gentle vocal harmonies and a slightly melancholy but jingle-jangle melody. Still, though, there's a brittleness and punkish naiveté to the delivery which clearly indicates that this is still a low-budget affair, like a DIY eighties indie take on The Byrds as opposed to the polished Columbia Records deal.

Reupload - Eastside Kids - Subway Train/ Sunday Stranger

Two brilliant sixties garage instrumentals by unknown persons

Label: Philips

Year of Release: 1965

It's always faintly frustrating when I locate a single I really like, but the artist(s) behind it seem so elusive that I'm unable to offer you good people any kind of background whatsoever. In this case, this bunch of Eastside [one word] Kids seem to have no relation to the other Los Angeles based East Side [two words] Kids who arrived later in the sixties and issued several singles, although there seems to be some dispute online about that fact.

Billy Carl co-authored the A-side "Subway Train" and there's evidence to suggest that this is Billy Carlucci who eventually served in the 1910 Fruitgum Company. It seems probable that he was a member of this very short-lived outfit too. The author W.E. Strange may also be the guitarist Billy Strange the session musician. As for the rest? No idea. No data. If you know, please pass your knowledge on. 

Reupload - The Denims - The Adler Sock

A 60s garage tribute to cheap socks that disintegrate easily in the wash. 

Label: The Adler Company/ Columbia
Year of Release: 1965

Rock and pop groups have always had an uneasy relationship with corporate sponsorship, to the extent that even in the present day (where the majority of musicians will allow their work to soundtrack adverts without shame) it puts a cringe on the face of many.  I myself have an ambivalent and perhaps hypocritical stance to the use of music on adverts - if it's The Fall, Clinic or Vashti Bunyan, my reflex reaction is to think "Well, I'm glad they're finally getting paid some money". If it's The White Stripes soundtracking an 'iconic global brand', I rub my face in my hands and sigh (even if the tune is rather good).

However, much as it may be logical to assume that The White Stripes were the first American garage band (we'll call them that for the sake of arguments, OK?) to take corporate dough, obscure New York racketeers The Denims were probably the first out of the gate in 1965, unless anyone knows better.  They were hardly household names in the USA, but that didn't stop The Adler Company from borrowing them for a promotional 45 about the benefit of Adler Socks, which were essentially cheap wool socks which tended to disintegrate or discolour after only a few washes.  "YEEEEEEAHHHH! DO THE SOCK!" the lead singer screeches as if his life depends on it, while the band kick up a fierce row in the background.  It's utterly unclear why The Adler Corporation thought such an act could flog feetwarmers, but I for one am thrilled they did - this is one of the most bizarre corporate spin-off singles I've ever encountered, a garage nugget with a commercial message attached.  It's likely to sound odder to British ears as this kind of harsh, abrasive punk noise never really made much headway in the UK charts, so the notion of using such an act to advertise clothing would have been unthinkable here.

The New Survivors - Pickle Protest/ But I Know

Odd 60s garage rock record referencing the protest movement. 

Label: Scepter

Year of Release: 1968

Here's a bit of a mystery. This 1968 garage rock record has a sparse organ-driven arrangement and a southern USA accented lead vocal, and appears to be referring to the protest movement and trying not to get itself into a tizz about the fact that "Red China's got the bomb". We are urged quite strongly that one way of not getting ourselves into too much of a panic about the world ending might be to just move our "happy feet".

I can't argue with that, really, since this attitude is what has made most popular music such a powerful force for time immemorial, through wars, recessions, and general uncertainty, but the lead singer's continual hiccups of laughter throughout - which sound like an accident initially, but are clearly staged - make me think this whole affair is a bit of a piss-take. It's intriguing, and quite catchy, and presumably made a lot more sense in 1968 than it does now and was possibly referencing a specific incident ("What is a 'pickle protest' anyway?" you might ask, and I can't help you there).

The B-side "But I Know" is a much more serious and soulful ballad which is actually a preferable listen for me. When I originally ripped these sides to mp3, I had to double-check my sources to check that "Pickle Protest" definitely was the original plug side - and it would seem that was the case.

It apparently picked up quite a bit of airplay in some US states, but wasn't a hit as a result, and The New Survivors seemingly didn't go on to record anything else. I've no idea who they were, but if anyone can enlighten me, I'd be grateful.

The Changin' Times - Pied Piper/ Thank You Babe

Label: Philips

Year of Release (in the US): 1965

Now here's an odd find - a South African pressing of a low charting American garage single. The Changin' Times "Pied Piper" managed to climb into the lower reaches of the Billboard Top 100 on its release in 1965, but response to the record in the UK was downright indifferent on its issue here, and it took our native arrogant young gunslinger Crispian St. Peters to turn it into a monster top ten hit with a smoother, bouncier, and actually inferior version.

Maybe the original was just a bit too rough around the edges for British tastes at that time, but I think it's a thing of total wonder. From the incessant flute riff through to the raw and craggy Dylan-esque vocals, it's one of the finer pieces of pop to burst out of the naive nooks and crannies of American garage rock. Lyrically it's possible to view the disc as either being an approving nod to beatnik culture and the bourgeoning hippy movement, or an utter piss-take - my wife is utterly convinced that it's actually a fairly snarky piece of satire (the use of the phrase "so fall in line" perhaps being a criticism of the hero-worship the likes of Dylan received rather than being approving). Whatever your end conclusion, musically it's simple, sharp and delightful, and probably not seeking out underground credibility with its endless hooks.

The flip is even more raw than the A-side, throwing a rasping harmonica and spirited vocals against a thrown together minute-and-a-half ditty. It consists of the victory of youthful enthusiasm over ability and budget that so many garage records have in spades.

Despite initial appearances, though, The Changin' Times were actually songwriting duo Steve Duboff and Artie Kornfeld having a crack at fame in their own right. Besides penning "Pied Piper" they also created the original version of the "Nuggets 2" compiled garage classic "How Is The Air Up There?" Not for no reason does "Pied Piper" also have more than an inkling of pop songwriting suss about it - Kornfeld also penned the Jan and Dean classic "Dead Man's Curve", so had more than a slight notion about what he was doing.

Still, Kornfeld proved his hippy credentials by going on to become one of the main organisers of the Woodstock festival and also became a music industry "Mover n Shaker". Duboff, rather oddly, later became a video games designer though continued to write and produce music until he passed away in 2004.

"Pied Piper" was one of a brace of single The Changin' Times issued until 1968, when they finally called it a day. 

What Four - Stop In The Name Of Love/ Asparagus

Label: Tower

Year of Release: 1968

Once every so often I stumble upon a sixties garage punk single that really causes me to pull "WTF?" faces. This shouldn't happen often, of course... I've been around the block enough times to realise that a lot of garage singles are highly bizarre artefacts, so I'm already prepared. But still, when I purchased this one, I felt sure that what I'd be getting was an uptempo, abrasive take on the Supremes classic. And what I got instead was...

Well, it's hard to describe this version of "Stop In The Name Of Love". The first listen to it is highly perplexing, as the band choose to make all the most quirky sounds at the places you'd least expect them. The "Think it over" segment of the original tune, for example, is the calm after the huge warning sign of the chorus. What Four instead place a clanking, pounding riff behind it that makes it sound like an extension of the chorus's hysteria, the next level up. This is not a pop song anymore, it's the noise of five railway barriers sounding off simultaneously through valve amplifiers.

I had hoped that this might be a good single to DJ with, but I suspect it might actually clear dance floors. It's not a bad record by any means, and I actually enjoy its peculiar elements hugely, it's just too irregular for most dancers to be able to make a connection with. I suspect the point of inspiration may have been Vanilla Fudge's version of "You Keep Me Hanging On", but "Stop" here is much more abrasive and stripped back.

The B-side "Asparagus" is possibly a bit more promising in the dance-floor department, being a proper uptempo garage pounder with layers of lyrical absurdity about accepting the universal goodness of American asparagus over the top. I suspect its a metaphor for the kind of meaningless middle-of-the-road demands made by "squares", readers. But the track has a loose, rhythmically simple enthusiastic drive behind it, akin to the kind of garage rock you might suspect Jack White would most enjoy.

There were two What Fours around in America in the 60s, the girl group and some garage punkers from Queens, New York. This is almost certainly the work of the latter rather than the former. Previously known as Sunrisers, they changed their name to What Four for the release of the single "Tossin Ship" on the tiny Rollem label, before finishing their careers with this cover on Tower. I have no other information on them besides that - if you know more, please do pass the details on.

Jimmy Gordon - Test Pattern/ 1980

Label: Challenge

Year of Release: 1967

Jimmy Gordon's 1963 surf instrumental "Buzzzzzz" is one of the more sought-after records of its genre, having an absolute overload of fuzz guitar and riff-ridden drama. Much bootlegged and compiled and blogged since, not much more needs to be added about its existence.

The 1967 follow-up single "Test Pattern/ 1980", on the other hand, has been given rather more short shrift. As a sucker for all things remotely whiffing of television testcards, the track's title sucked me in. Rather than featuring a sinister screeching noise throughout its duration, or any reference to nervous girls with chalky fingers playing noughts and crosses with evil clowns, it's yet another instrumental with a twangy, fuzzy edge to it. By 1967 this surely felt slightly like old hat and its failure to hit the charts won't have been a surprise, though it has worked its way on to a compilation for psychedelic instrumentals since. So perhaps not...

The flip "1980" has more of a mellow, jazzy vibe to it, but pretty much stays true to the formula. Both sides are worth your time, with neither one really having the edge over the other in terms of quality.

There's some confusion about the identity of Jimmy Gordon. Some have argued that he's Jim Gordon, a session drummer who later worked with Eric Clapton in Derek and the Dominoes and went to jail for murdering his own mother in 1983 during a schizophrenic episode. It seems much more likely, however, that this single is actually the work of a session bassist with the same name who periodically worked with Dave Burgess of The Champs (and "Tequila" fame) who is also credited here. Certainly, while "Test Pattern" does feature drums prominently in places, there's nothing going on that showcases them in particular. I'm sure someone will be able to put me right on this if my assumptions are incorrect, however.

Eastside Kids - Subway Train/ Sunday Stranger

Label: Philips

Year of Release: 1965

It's always faintly frustrating when I locate a single I really like, but the artist(s) behind it seem so elusive that I'm unable to offer you good people any kind of background whatsoever. In this case, this bunch of Eastside [one word] Kids seem to have no relation to the other Los Angeles based East Side [two words] Kids who arrived later in the sixties and issued several singles, although there seems to be some dispute online about that fact.

Billy Carl co-authored the A-side "Subway Train" and there's evidence to suggest that this is Billy Carlucci who eventually served in the 1910 Fruitgum Company. It seems probable that he was a member of this very short-lived outfit too. As for the rest? No idea. No data. If you know, please pass your knowledge on. 

Whatever, what we have here is two thrilling instrumental sides, with the W.E. Strange penned flip "Sunday Stranger" having by far the best sound to my ears. The combination of ripping guitar riffs, organ grooves and pounding drum patterns makes it an absolute shoe-in for any mod or garage night, and it's a delight. My feet haven't stopped twitching yet. One of those records I picked up at a very reasonable price indeed, and I'm delighted for having done so.

Brotherly Lovers - If You Need A Love Song/ Our Favourite Hill

Label: eskee

Year of Release: 1966

Brotherly Lovers are responsible for a garage track called "Was A Lie" which has been talked about enthusiastically online for awhile now. Rough and imperfect, it sounds as if was recorded for a few cents, and even they were probably fed into the electricity meter just to keep the session going.  Like so much of its ilk, though, it possesses a charm that some contemporary hits of the time lacked.

Far less has been written about its follow-up "If You Need A Love Song", despite - or perhaps because of - the fact that this seems to be the release where Brotherly Lovers had smoothed off some of the rough edges. Sounding less buzzsaw and agitated in approach and more akin to an aspiring folk-rock group, it showcases gentle vocal harmonies and a slightly melancholy but jingle-jangle melody. Still, though, there's a brittleness and punkish naiveté to the delivery which clearly indicates that this is still a low-budget affair, like a DIY eighties indie take on The Byrds as opposed to the polished Columbia Records deal.

Hailing from Queens in New York, Brotherly Lovers released "What A Lie" in 1966 and also acted as Lesley Gore's backing band for her West Coast tour at around the same time. Consisting of singer, guitarist and sometime actor George Grant, lead guitarist Mike Ginex, bassist Ray Stankes, and Richie Lexton on drums, the group toured with Gore for a large portion of the year and even appeared on an episode of "Shindig" with her, but none of it ultimately led to a significant increase in record sales.  They were also apparently among the many unlucky people who auditioned to become "The Monkees", meaning that in an alternative universe somewhere this group recorded "I'm A Believer".

George Grant later went on to become a producer and writer of TV and radio jingles - the whereabouts of the rest is less clear. If you know anything more, please leave a comment or drop me a line.

Meanwhile, the New York label Eskee was a very short-lived affair indeed, seemingly managing to conduct business for just under a year before giving up, but during its lifespan it did at least launch The Jelly Beans record "You Don't Mean Me No Good" into the world, which later became a much-loved Northern Soul spin.

The Fun and Games - Grooviest Girl In The World/ It Must Have Been The Wind

Label: Uni

Year of Release: 1969

I appear to be approximately the 24th person online to blog about this one. Oh well. The simple truth is that some flop records have such an impact on the people who hear them that they promptly rush to the internet to tell everyone they know. Then those people tell everyone they know. And the dominos keep toppling until someone asks the not unreasonable question: "So how come this wasn't a hit?"  Allow me to tell you.

The Fun And Games were originally a Houston based group called The Six Pentz who morphed into their more well-known moniker to avoid confusion with another similarly named local act.  After some turmoil and a series of small-time independent recordings, they settled on a line up of Rock Romano on guitar and vocals, Joe Dungan on keyboards, Joe Ramano on bass, Sam Irwin on vocals and tambourine, and Carson Grahm on drums.  

After building up a positive local following in the Houston area they were discovered by Los Angeles based songwriter Gary Zekley, who pitched the idea of a working partnership with them to Uni Records.  The label agreed, and the recording sessions produced this tearing great noise. "The Grooviest Girl In The World" is usually classified as bubblegum, but this actually just as easily sits somewhere between garage pop and glam.  Filled with shouts of "Hey!", fuzzed up guitars, close vocal harmonies, thumping drums and pure joy, it's as close to pop perfection as the late sixties ever got.  Placing this on your turntable is like inviting the contents of a local fairground into your living room - the hooks spin around your head and flash with neon colours until it all becomes a little bit over-exciting.  If you don't feel as if you should be doing laps of your living quarters by the time the band sing "Come fly with me in my balloon", I am worried for your state of mind.  

It really should have been a huge hit, but Sam Irwin took to the stage at a Los Angeles music industry showcase and began insulting various Uni staffers live onstage, who subsequently lost their enthusiasm for promoting the record.  It struggled to number 78 in the Billboard Hot 100 then disappeared again, an unjust end to a fantastic single - but there again, the result was perhaps only to be expected.

Sadly, the fact that it's compiled on the album "25 All Time Greatest Bubblegum Hits" means I can't include it in full here, but it's on YouTube for you all to enjoy.

The flip side "It Must Have Been The Wind" is strangely dopey and jazzy and almost of equal interest, if inevitably overshadowed by its top side.  Here the group sound less sugary and much more as if they could be at home on an album of psychedelic obscurities.  Obviously a band of many skills, then, but despite their talents the subsequent LP "Elephant Candy" did very little sales-wise, and the band had disappeared by the time the seventies dawned.