A history of popular music as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 8)

30. 5000 Volts –•– I’m on Fire — (Peaked: December 13, 1975 at # 26)

Two guitarists in matching satin bell-bottoms and a singer named Tina Charles who pushes everyone out of the way and belts "I'm On Fire" as if she were. A one-hit wonder twofer, as the song plays off the riff of “Black is Black” by Los Bravos (#4, October 1966). Somehow this song wasn’t a bigger hit. 

29. Buffalo Springfield –•– For What It’s Worth — (Peaked: March 25, 1967 at # 7)        

A strong case can be made for Buffalo Springfield as the American Beatles. Two brilliant, if mercurial, singer/songwriter/instrumentalist triple threats. A third partner who led a pioneering country-rock band. A catalogue that covered an eclectic range of styles and a reputation as a dynamic live band. Unlike the Beatles, who understood the nature of band dynamics, the Springfield splintered pretty quickly: a little more than a year after "For What It's Worth" they were done.  

28. Anita Ward –•– Ring My Bell — (Peaked: June 30, 1979 at # 1)          

Not a song about the Avon Lady. 

27. The Monotones –•– Book of Love — (Peaked: April 21, 1958 at # 5)

The Monotones were six kids from a Newark housing project, one of whom couldn’t get the Pepsodent jingle out of his head (You’ll wonder where the yellow went/when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent), so he wrote and structured "Book of Love" around it. 

26. Carl Perkins –•– Blue Suede Shoes — (Peaked: May 19, 1956 at # 2)

Having once owned a pair of gray suede Hush Puppies, I can tell you that they get scuffed easily. And forget about wearing them in the rain or snow. "Blue Suede Shoes," which Carl Perkins wrote, was the first million-selling country song to cross over to both the R&B and pop charts. When Elvis Presley covered the song, first cut on his first album, it became what passes for a rock & roll classic. 

25. Hurricane Smith –•– Oh, Babe, What Would You Say? — (Peaked: February 17, 1973 at # 3)  

Our kitchen radio was locked on 1130 WNEW AM and it was always on, so even as a kid I knew my way around the “Great American Song Book” – although back then it was only a bunch of old records that nobody but WNEW played. Its deejays were dismissive of Top 40 radio, but occasionally the station would allow an exception like "Oh Babe" into the palace. As someone who knew the lyrics to Barbra Streisand’s “Secondhand Rose” when he was eight years old, I was probably predisposed to liking the jaunty “Oh Babe” right from the start. Hurricane Smith’s real name was Norman Smith, an Abbey Road engineer who worked on all the Beatles’ sessions up to Rubber Soul, then produced three very trippy early Pink Floyd albums. 

24. Debby Boone –•– You Light Up My Life — (Peaked: October 15, 1977 at # 1)  

Debby Boone was two years younger than me (and born at Hackensack Hospital!) but projected 15 years older. "You Light Up My Life", sat flat and lifeless at #1 for ten weeks at the end of 1977. Its presence threw a wet blanket over the radio, the same way Debby’s father Pat did in the 50s with his Wonder Bread covers of black R&B like “Blueberry Hill” and “Tutti Fruitti.”  

23. Brian Wilson –•– Caroline, No — (Peaked: April 30, 1966 at # 32)

The story goes that when Capitol Records executives first heard “Pet Sounds” – an album ostensibly by the Beach Boys but more of a solo Brian Wilson record if anything – they had no idea how to market it. Where were the songs about girls and summer fun? Why were these songs all so downhearted? Convinced they had a teenage version of Frank Sinatra’s bittersweet bummer “September of My Years” on their hands, they considered releasing “Pet Sounds” as a Brian Wilson record (hence this single listing Wilson as the artist) before doing an about-face and crediting the band instead – then sank any chance it had to succeed by putting out a Beach Boys greatest hits record a month later to compete against it. By Beach Boys sales standards, “Pet Sounds” and "Caroline No" tanked. Today, “Pet Sounds” is generally accepted as one of the great rock albums; the elegiac “Caroline No,” ending with the midnight sound of dogs barking at a passing train, is one of Wilson’s best. 

22. Mike Oldfield –•– Tubular Bells — (Peaked: May 11, 1974 at # 7)                    

This single, edited down from its original, album-side length of 48 minutes, was written and recorded by 19-year-old Mike Oldfield (who played all the instruments). When Richard Branson heard a demo, he signed Oldfield to his new Virgin Records label. Thanks to its use in The Exorcist, the record took off and provided Branson with capital that helped launch an empire that today includes a space tourism outfit. 

21. Nena –•– 99 Luftballons — (Peaked: March 3, 1984 at # 2)

20. World Party –•– Ship of Fools (Save Me from Tomorrow) — (Peaked: April 25, 1987 at # 27) 

The conservative policies of Reagan and Thatcher, and a growing gap between the wealthy and everybody else, triggered a brief blast of political protest music (“Rockin’ In the Free World” by Neil Young, “Born in the USA” by Bruce Springsteen, “Land of Confusion” by Genesis) that included "99 Luftballoons" and "Ship of Fools." The former was an anti-nuclear song recorded in English and German in the face of rising international tensions. The latter was more of a temperature check of humankind. Thirty-three years later, the patient hasn’t flatlined, but it’s close.

 

 

Hey, look what’s on television! Loving (1970)

“Loving” falls into place within a long line of literary works (from Allen Ginsburg, John Cheever and John Updike, among many) and films (like “The Ice Storm” and “The Stepford Wives”) painting sinister portraits of life in suburbia.

Darker than any of Dante’s nine circles of Hell, every bi-level and split-level -- all seemingly located in Connecticut -- hides a pit of desperate drinking, screwing, social climbing and scandal. In “Loving,” George Segal plays a freelance commercial artist burdened with the educated white-guy, middle-class blues: endless work deadlines, conflicted feelings about commercialism vs. art, a cramped house his family has outgrown, an affair with a younger woman in the city. He lies to clients, is a serial flirter and one drink always leads to a dozen more. It’s a life skidding off the Merritt Parkway until the inevitable crash occurs during a neighbor’s cocktail party.

Segal’s character acts like such a jerky frat boy that it’s impossible to muster any sympathy for him – why is he cheating when he’s married to a doting Eve-Marie Saint for Christ’s sake – and when he reaches the embarrassing end of his downward spiral, it feels like redemption for the viewer.

The end comes at a December cocktail party (suburban parties are also pivotal to the plots of Cheever’s “The Swimmer” and “The Ice Storm”) that seems to include most of the characters in the movie, including the girlfriend from the city and another girl Segal’s character tried to hit up earlier. Feeling no pain and rejected by the girlfriend when he corners her in a pantry, he leaves the party with a neighbor who’s been dropping hints about her availability. After a quick encounter in a car backseat – we see their silhouettes behind a snow-covered back windshield and the exhaust from the idling engine – they move on to where it’s warmer, a playhouse belonging to their host’s daughter. What they’ve forgotten is that their creepy host has closed-circuit cameras throughout his property, including the playhouse, connected to his television.

When a bored partygoer starts going through the channels, guess what he comes across? Drunken, half-dressed groping in a playpen, surrounded by stuffed animals as nursery rhyme songs play on a child’s record player (providing a soundtrack of double-entendres: “Did you ever see a lassie go this way and that way” and “pussy in the well”).

Like the partygoers who gather around the television, I unexpectedly came across this scene a million years ago on the Channel 7 4:30 weekday movie at my wife’s parent’s house (we weren’t married yet). Thankfully, her father left the room a couple of minutes earlier (I don’t think he was watching the movie but had fallen asleep on the couch) and I watched alone, dumbfounded. It’s cringeworthy and compelling at the same time.

Two other points about this film. Sterling Hayden channels Captain Ahab in look and attitude during his brief role as a conservative Midwestern trucking magnate building a new headquarters in Manhattan. When Segal visits the construction site to finalize a deal, it’s the skeletal beginnings of the World Trade Center where the scene takes place. As they speak, with the Brooklyn Bridge framed in the background, it’s a reminder that some folks had a spectacular view from their offices.

The film’s director, Irvin Kershner, started his career making quirky, independent dramas like Loving. Within ten years his career had taken a complete about-face and he was directing “The Empire Strikes Back,” “Never Say Never Again” and “RoboCop 2.”

Loving gets some airplay on TCM usually when the channel features a George Segal retrospective, which often includes two other movies where he suffers with the educated, white-guy middle-class blues: “Blume In Love” and “California Split.”

 

 

A history of popular music, as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 7) 

40. Doris Troy –•– Just One Look — (Peaked: July 27, 1963 at # 10)

Doris Troy cowrote "Just One Look," so her payday came 15 years after it charted with Linda Ronstadt’s cover, followed by its use in Mazda and Pepsi commercials. Troy later became an in-demand backup vocalist, singing on Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” and the Stones’ “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” among many other early 70s rock stuff. 

39. Mason Williams –•– Classical Gas — (Peaked: August 3, 1968 at # 2)                            

"Classical Gas" won three Grammy Awards for Mason Williams, a moonlighting writer for the Smothers Brothers Show. On The Tonight Show, Albert Brooks performed a “tribute to the animal kingdom” during which he frantically held up nature books and stuffed animals trying to keep pace with “Classical Gas.” Unfortunately, it didn’t survive to make it to YouTube. 

38. Julie London –•– Cry Me a River — (Peaked: December 17, 1955 at # 9)                       

Quite sure this is the only song on this list, maybe ever, that includes the word “plebeian” in its lyrics. 

37. The Honeycombs –•– Have I the Right? — (Peaked: November 14, 1964 at # 5)         

36. The Tornados –•– Telstar — (Peaked: December 22, 1962 at # 1)     

Often working in a makeshift studio in his apartment, or flat as the Brits like to call it, Joe Meek built a reputation as a pioneer in sound recording, developing everyday studio tricks like overdubbing, reverb and sampling. His records had a unique sound: the hammering-heart bass drum and broken-spring guitar of "Have I The Right" and the instrumental "Telstar" with its futuristic keyboards and rocket-blast sound effects (and the first British rock record to reach #1 in the US). But Meek suffered with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia; was being blackmailed at a time when homosexuality was a crime in the UK; and was convinced Buddy Holly was communicating with him from beyond the grave. When another songwriter accused Meek of plagiarizing “Telstar,” he fatally shot his landlady, then himself, in 1967. The “Telstar” issue was resolved in his favor three weeks later. 

35. Timmy Thomas –•– Why Can’t We Live Together — (Peaked: February 10, 1973 at # 3)

Radio deejays who prided themselves on their ability to “hit the post” – talking over the instrumental introduction of a song and timing it to end as the singing began – had a broad canvas to work with on "Why Can't We Live Together" a record that began with 1:30 of journeyman R&B singer Timmy Thomas playing the organ with some sort of metronome keeping the beat – enough time to give the weather, news and, if it was a winter storm, every school closing in the tri-state area. Philosophically, lyrically and vocally “Why Can’t We Live Together” feels like everything Marvin Gaye wrote and sang during his “relevant” phase in the early 70s. 

34. The Youngbloods –•– Get Together — (Peaked: September 6, 1969 at # 5)                 

The Youngbloods moved from hip Boston to hipper San Francisco and released the groovy "Get Together" in 1967. The song faced a lot of competition from similarly themed Summer of Love songs, like “All You Need Is Love” and “San Francisco (Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair)” and peaked at #62. The song began getting airplay again in 1969 when it was being used in a popular radio public service announcement and this time it clicked. Two years later the very 1967 raga guitar solo still worked. 

33. Preston Epps –•– Bongo Rock — (Peaked: June 29, 1959 at # 14) 

You proved your musical chops in elementary school by banging out the drum solo to “Wipe Out” on your desktop. Being able to keep time to "Bongo Rock" put you in the master class.  

32. Neal Hefti –•– Batman Theme — (Peaked: March 12, 1966 at # 35)                 

Almost moronically simple and memorable. 

31. Billy Swan –•– I Can Help — (Peaked: November 23, 1974 at # 1)

Nashville musician Billy Swan sounded a lot like Ringo Starr, leading people to at first believe this was a solo Beatles record. Further supporting the misconception was the song’s message, which made it a country cousin to “With A Little Help From My Friends.”

 

 

 

A history of popular music, as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 6)

49. Santa Esmeralda –•– Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood — (Peaked: February 18, 1978 at # 15)        

The Citizen Kane of disco records.

48. The Church –•– Under the Milky Way — (Peaked: June 18, 1988 at # 24)                     

Emo classic with a secret connection to the LA singer-songwriter scene of the 70s. It was produced by Waddy Wachtel (Linda Ronstadt’s guitarist) and Greg Ladanyi (who produced several Jackson Browne albums); the drummer is Russ Kunkel (Jackson Browne and Crosby and Nash’s bands, and the former Mr. Carly Simon). The “bagpipe” solo was a bow played on guitar, then fed into an electronic keyboard.

47. Randy Newman –•– Short People — (Peaked: January 28, 1978 at # 2)          

46. Loudon Wainwright III –•– Dead Skunk — (Peaked: March 31, 1973 at # 16)               

Randy Newman and Loudon Wainwright III came from storied families (Newman had three uncles who wrote Hollywood film scores; Wainwright’s father was a journalist and editor-in-chief of Life magazine) and from the start, both were cordoned off into the “clever artist with a cult following” category. The subject matter of these two songs was universal enough to give each a major hit record, the only two of their long careers.

45. The Penguins –•– Earth Angel — (Peaked: February 5, 1955 at # 8)                                

When WOR-FM changed from underground rock to oldies, it introduced the new format by playing its top 500 songs of all-time (and at that point, “all time” only meant about 15 years). Figuring my musical education was more important, I faked being ill so I could stay home from school to listen. The top two were disappointing because I’d never heard of either “In The Still of the Night” by the Five Satins or "Earth Angel" before, but looking back they made perfect sense, soulful R&B ballads that provided a soundtrack for 50s teenagers to slow dance or make out to. Years later, when WNEW-FM offered its own top 500 of all-time, with the inevitable top two of “Stairway to Heaven” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” – that was much more disappointing.

44. Harry Simeone Chorale –•– The Little Drummer Boy — (Peaked: January 12, 1959 at # 13)

Christmas music isn’t supposed to be haunting, but "The Little Drummer Boy" kind of scared me as a kid, with the hypnotic drone “drumbeat” underneath the choir. As peaceful as stepping outside from a noisy family gathering on Christmas Eve into the cold dark.

43. Reunion –•– Life Is a Rock (But the Radio Rolled Me) — (Peaked: November 16, 1974 at #8)

42. Pete Wingfield –•– Eighteen with a Bullet — (Peaked: November 29, 1975 at # 15)

In the time it takes for "Life Is A Rock" to unroll, the names of more than 125 singers, bands, producers, record labels, deejays and dance crazes fly by, keeping Billboard subscribers and the nerds who collected the weekly radio station surveys busy for weeks deciphering it (and an idea later co-opted, with all the fun removed, by Billy Joel in “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”) Pete Wingfield was a British recording session keyboard player with a white-guy Afro and remarkable vocal range whose moment of glory was "Eighteen With A Bullet" – a doo wop homage that used music business terms as metaphors for a romance.

41. Zager and Evans –•– In the Year 2525 — (Peaked: July 12, 1969 at # 1)                         

"In the Year 2525" – not to forget its pompously parenthetical sub-title, Exordium & Terminus – stayed at #1 for six weeks through the summer of 1969 – making it the most successful one-hit wonder record ever. Although the lyrics weren’t much more imaginative in describing a dystopian future than your average issue of DC Comics’ Kamandi, it was nominated for a Hugo, the science fiction literary version of an Oscar. 

 

Hey, look what’s finally on TV! C.C. and Company (1970)

Joe Namath’s first movie role isn’t a travesty. He has the amiable laid-back vibe you get when non-actors wind up with major movie roles (Willie Nelson, the Beatles) and not much in the way of dialogue (or at least many lines of dialogue strung together) so there’s no need for any emotional heavy lifting.

However, having finally sat through all of C.C. and Company for perhaps the first time confirmed that the first five minutes of the movie are its high point. Namath, playing the cleanest-cut gang member to ever grace a motorcycle movie, pretends to be grocery shopping while actually making a sandwich by stealing food from the shelves (and resealing packages as he goes along – the golden age of product tampering). Joe washes down his sandwich with a stolen pint of milk, then helps himself to a package of Twinkies.

From that point forward, C.C. and Company plays like an R-rated Elvis movie, with Namath as the loner with a chip on his shoulder but a heart of gold, quick with his fists and in making time with the gals. He even gets a cool Elvis character name, C.C. Ryder. And not unlike most Elvis movies, C.C. and Company ends with a climactic motorcycle race because there’s always some big car race/moment of truth where Elvis redeems himself in the eyes of his female costar and wipes the smirk off the face of his male competitor.

The movie was written by Mr. Ann-Margret, Roger Smith, no doubt in an effort to jumpstart his wife’s lagging career. According to IMDB, her last role before C.C. and Company was a guest spot on The Lucy Show (the one where Desi Jr. thinks she’s coming on to him after she shows an interest in a song he wrote, easily one of the longest half-hours in television history). If the idea was to start her movie comeback, why not harken back to Ann-Margret’s best – and already five years ago at this point – cinematic effort, Viva Las Vegas?

So any resemblance to an Elvis movie seems intentional, but there’s no way Presley would have signed on for C.C. and Company. There’s beer guzzling, disrespect for authority, a biker chick skinny-dipping, a couple of blurry nude biker asses and Ann-Margret telling a biker to fuck off. And not that Roger Smith would have welcomed Elvis anyway, as the King and the then-single Ann-Margret had a major thing going during the filming of Viva Las Vegas. Namath, at the time one of the best-known and recognizable people in America, got the call.

After their not-so-cute first meeting (Namath steps in to stop two of his motorcycle buddies from raping Ann-Margret when her limo breaks down in the desert), he quits the gang to court her. They hit a dance club, and to compare Namath with a quarterback contemporary, his dance moves are strictly Johnny Unitas – he stays in the pocket and doesn’t move around much. Ann-Margret, on the other hand, only seems to dance at one speed, a hair-whipping frenzy. Afterwards we cut to the two of them rolling around in a dark room, where it’s safe to say that Namath isn’t wearing his knee brace. Happy to be a Giants fan in 1970, with boring Fran Tarkenton at quarterback.

That’s followed by the “falling in love” montage as they feed ducks and ride a pedal boat as “Today: The Love Theme from C.C. and Company” (according to the credits) and sung by Miss Margret provides a suitable soundtrack. (I’m reasonably sure this isn’t the song Desi Jr. wrote for her). The rest of the movie includes several scenes of the motorcycle gang – in the best biker movie tradition – generally behaving like the monkeys in 2001: A Space Odyssey. There’s an endless moto-cross race with lots of riders wiping out and the big bike race/duel to the death at the end, Namath vs. his former gang.

For as many times as I tried to watch C.C. and Company, I probably did myself a favor by going to bed after the sandwich scene.

Hey, look what’s finally on TV! C.C. and Company used to air often on the CBS 11:30 movie on Friday and Saturday night. It would have taken a Herculean effort to stay up until 1 AM, with commercials, to watch the whole thing. Fittingly, TCM aired it recently late on a Saturday night.

 

A history of popular music, as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 5)

60. Lorne Greene –•– Ringo — (Peaked: December 5, 1964 at #1) 

59. Ian Whitcomb –•– You Turn Me On — (Peaked: July 17, 1965 at #8)               

If a rising tide lifts all boats, then the British Invasion helped these two songs. "Ringo" had nothing to do with, you know, the real Ringo. It was a spoken-word tale of a gunslinger with Lorne Greene at his most sonorous. "You Turn Me On" was good enough to stand on its own merits, a boogie-woogie workout with Brit Ian Whitcomb singing in a breathless, feminine falsetto, fueling playground accusations that he was gay. 

58. The Hollywood Argyles –•– Alley Oop — (Peaked: July 11, 1960 at #1)           

Hollywood record producer Gary Paxton was The Hollywood Argyles. Fast forward several decades from this record and Paxton, then producing gospel music records, became People magazine fodder when he was accused of having an affair with Tammy Faye Bakker, although he insisted they were just friends, and not in the biblical sense. 

57. Paul Mauriat and His Orchestra –•– Love Is Blue — (Peaked: February 10, 1968 at # 1) 

Stuffy instrumental you could only wait out when it played on the radio, but at #1 for five weeks, it was a long wait. Neil Young said he was fooling around trying to play this on his guitar when he stumbled onto the chords for “Heart of Gold.” 

56. Kyu Sakamoto –•– Sukiyaki — (Peaked: June 15, 1963 at # 1)        

55. The Singing Nun –•– Dominique — (Peaked: December 7, 1963 at # 1)                      

Six months separate two of the strangest records to ever reach #1. The Japanese lyrics of "Sukiyaki" are vaguely about dejection over a lost love but were actually written in frustration following a failed student demonstration against the continued post-World War II American military presence in Japan. The title, which has nothing to do with the song, was chosen because it was a term recognizably Japanese and familiar to most Americans – almost like retitling “Dominque” with its French lyrics, “Croissant.” "Dominique" existed in the strange twilight that hung over America between the Kennedy assassination and Beatlemania – the Singing Nun appeared on Ed Sullivan in January 1964, one month before the Beatles. Citing financial difficulties, she and a female friend committed suicide together in 1985. 

54. The Trade Winds –•– New York’s A Lonely Town — (Peaked: March 6, 1965 at # 32)

California dreaming on such a winter's day. In an episode of Mad Men, Don Draper and Harry go to a concert to sign the Rolling Stones to cut a commercial jingle for Heinz Ketchup – not such a reach as the Stones in their early days did ads for Kellogg’s in the UK. Backstage, Harry somehow gets confused and winds up signing opening act the Trade Winds instead. 

53. Iron Butterfly –•– In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida — (Peaked: October 26, 1968 at # 30)            

There was plenty of fat to be trimmed from the original 17-minute version of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" to make this AM-friendly version, although when I hear the edited single, my mind starts to replay the deleted drum solo, like when you have a tooth removed and you keep probing around, looking for it with your tongue. 

52. Rosie and the Originals –•– Angel Baby — (Peaked: January 23, 1961 at # 5)            

Rosie was 14 when she wrote "Angel Baby" for her boyfriend. The group was offered a recording contract – cue the “Jaws” theme – under the condition that the record label take possession of the master recording and that the oldest Original, not Rosie, be listed as the writer. Ineligible to collect royalties because she wasn’t credited as the writer, decades of litigation followed. John Lennon was an admirer of the amateurish charm of this record, recording a version in the 70s. 

51. Mickey & Sylvia –•– Love Is Strange — (Peaked: March 2, 1957 at # 11)    

50. Shirley & Company –•– Shame, Shame, Shame — (Peaked: March 29, 1975 at # 12)

Sylvia Robinson earned her spot on the Mount Rushmore of one-hit wonders. As half of Mickey & Sylvia, their "Love Is Strange" went to #11 – what is strange is why this song never charted higher, given how well known it is and how often it gets used on soundtracks. Eight years later, Robinson wrote the irresistible disco hit "Shame, Shame, Shame" – John Lennon was an admirer, one of the few rock stars to admit to liking some disco music. Recording as Sylvia in 1973, she was a one-hit wonder with the embarrassing top ten hit “Pillow Talk,” before founding the hip hop label Sugar Hill, home of yet another one-hit wonder, the Sugar Hill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” in 1979.

 

Hey, look what’s finally on TV! Let the Good Times Roll (1973)

There was a void in rock music in the early 70s that was filled by a revival of 50s rock & roll. Sha Na Na was playing the Filmore East and Woodstock. WCBS-FM changed its format to all-oldies and handed over Sunday nights to doo-wop scholar Gus Gossert. Madison Square Garden began hosting – and selling out – package shows of 50s artists, has-beens and relics to the outside world, but royalty to the reformed juvenile delinquents and greasers who lined up for tickets.

My friends and I attended one of those Rock & Roll Revivals, as they were billed, the infamous Garden Party in October 1971. (Two of my first three concerts were the Garden Party and a January 1973 concert during which Neil Young announced that the Vietnam War was over with the signing of the Paris Peace Treaty that evening – excuse me for thinking every show I’d ever attend would be eventful). My memory of the bill at the Garden that night is hazy (and there’s no reliable online resource to help), but I do remember Little Eva and Rick (Not Ricky) Nelson, plus show-closers Bo Diddley and Chuck Berry.

There’s commentary online from people WHO WERE AT THE CONCERT insisting that the booing during Nelson’s set was directed at cops hassling (to use the vernacular of the day) some kids smoking weed. It’s not true and the Rick (Not Ricky) distinction is important. Distancing himself from being the annoying kid brother on that annoyingly corny television show, Nelson took the stage with a band of LA session musicians playing countrified versions of his old hits and a few covers.

I’m sure they were good, but nobody was listening. There was a twang (mostly courtesy of a pedal steel guitar) to the music that didn’t go down well on 33^rd Street in those days when us city folk generally considered country and western “shit-kicker music” and a joke funny above the Mason-Dixon line. Nelson got it right on “Garden Party” – he didn’t look the part and the music didn’t fit. Of course, he got the last laugh with “Garden Party” going top ten and later fathering the twin boys who fronted the atrocious rock band Nelson. 

Let The Good Times Roll, filmed around the same time as the Garden Party, captured similar revivals. There’s Bo Diddley and Chuck Berry, looking and sounding much like they did the night we saw them – Bo stutter-stepping, Chuck duck walking – tried and true schtick that the sold-out crowd ate up. It was exciting and still one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. Let The Good Times Roll does a great job, sometimes using split screens and “psychedelic” camera tricks, of capturing that excitement.

Other highlights from Let the Good Times Roll: Chubby Checker, minus his American Bandstand baby fat, turning the Twist into an Olympic sport; Little Richard sitting in his dressing room accepting visitors (including Chubby and Bill Haley) like the queen; and Rob Reiner introducing the Coasters with a dead-on impersonation of Murray the K’s hyperactive jive talk. Reiner grew up in the suburbs of Westchester County; obviously he spent a lot of time listening to New York City radio.

Hey, look what’s finally on TV! I bet it’s been more than 20 years since I last watched Let The Good Times Roll before TCM showed it over the Labor Day weekend.

 

 

 

 

 

A history of popular music as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 4) 

70. Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs –•– Stay — (Peaked: November 21, 1960 at # 1)  

"Stay" doesn’t actually stay very long, clocking in at 1:36, the shortest record to reach #1.

69. Miriam Makeba –•– Pata Pata — (Peaked: November 25, 1967 at # 12)        

Miriam Makeba fun facts: She was married to a fellow South African, trumpeter Hugh Masekela (another one-hit wonder with “Grazing in the Grass” in 1968), as well as Black Panther leader Stokely Carmichael (not at the same time).

68. The Chakachas –•– Jungle Fever — (Peaked: March 25, 1972 at # 8)

The list of songs with orgasmic moaning in the mix includes Donna Summers’ “Love to Love You,” Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin’s pornographic tour de force “Je t’amie,” Robert Plant’s heavy breathing during the “psychedelic” instrumental break on “Whole Lotta Love,” “Pillow Talk” by Sylvia (who will come up again later on this list) and "Jungle Fever" – a record you never wanted to come up on the radio if you were trapped in the car with your parents.

67. Buckner & Garcia –•– Pac-Man Fever — (Peaked: March 27, 1982 at # 9)

Underemployed and with too much time on my hands, I began to search out the bowling alleys and makeshift arcades where I might find the jolt I needed, a trip to a universe where I was the unforgiving, stalking predator. With enough quarters and a shaking hand on the throttle, there was Pac-Man. In a pinch, Ms. Pac-Man worked just as well.

66. The Fendermen –•– Mule Skinner Blues — (Peaked: July 11, 1960 at # 5) 

This song always struck me as a kind of silly novelty song, then I came across Dolly Parton’s dynamite version from 1970. Turns out to date back to the early 30s and is something of a country standard. The Fendermen (true to their name) introduced electric guitars, but it still veers awfully close to novelty record status. The lame “cha cha cha” ending doesn’t help its case.

65. Johnny Ace –•– Pledging My Love — (Peaked: March 19, 1955 at # 17)

Johnny Ace, 25, was playing around with his revolver backstage at a 1954 concert. Someone told him to be careful. Just after he claimed, “Gun’s not loaded,” it went off, the starting pistol that sent his "Pledging My Love," released posthumously, to #17 nationally and #1 on the R&B charts for 10 weeks. Billboard at the time said Ace's death "created one of the biggest demands for a record that has occurred since the death of Hank Williams just over two years ago." Paul Simon was old to enough to be affected by Ace’s death and his “The Late Great Johnny Ace” connects Ace’s death with that of two other Johns, Kennedy and Lennon. 

64. Desmond Dekker and the Aces –•– Israelites — (Peaked: June 28, 1969 at # 9)   

Despite the often-unintelligible lyrics, "The Israelties" was the first reggae song to hit the U.S. top ten. Some say the first was Millie Small’s “My Boy Lollipop,” which had more of that skip-along ska beat instead.

63. The Knickerbockers –•– Lies — (Peaked: January 22, 1966 at #20)                   

The fab "Lies" was the first, and still one of the best, Beatlesque records. Even with “We Can Work It Out” and “Day Tripper” concurrently in the U.S. top ten, the Lennon-styled vocals and guitar work (sounding more like the Who in spots), pushed “Lies” to #20. The band hailed from Bergenfield and took its name from local Knickerbocker Road, which ironically doesn’t run at all through Bergenfield. Keeping that Garden State spirit alive, a reincarnated version of the band called itself Lodi.

62. John Zacherle –•– Dinner with Drac–Part 1 — (Peaked: March 31, 1958 at #6)           

Halloween 1966: Wearing football shoulder pads and nose putty globbed over my face, I stood on a long line to meet The Cool Ghoul, Zacherle, in front of Bamberger’s at the Garden State Plaza. It must have been some sort of costumer contest, and as each kid filed past, Zach made a joke or comment. My turn. Zach asks me who I’m supposed to be. I tell him the Hunchback. Zach: “Wait till your mother sees all that bubblegum on your face.”

61. The Elvin Bishop Band –•– Fooled Around and Fell in Love — (Peaked: May 22, 1976 at #3) 

As with the Beatles’ “Something” and Wings’ “My Love,” two other love songs I always found tedious, "Fooled Around" redeems itself with an inspired guitar solo by Elvin Bishop, who at one time in the late 60s was considered one of the great white wonders of blues guitar.

 

Hey, look what’s finally on TV! Johnny Cool (1963)

Henry Silva had a long film career playing mostly Indians or ethic types when he wasn’t in a role supporting any combination of Rat Pack members, including The Manchurian Candidate with Frank Sinatra or as one of the second-tier members of Ocean’s Eleven, along with professional sourpusses Richard Conte, Norman Fell and Joey Bishop.

With Silva in a rare lead role, a Rat Pack breeze blows through Johnny Cool. Sinatra musical accomplices Sammy Cahn and Billy May wrote the swinging soundtrack. Sammy Davis Jr. and Joey Bishop have cameos and the film’s executive producer is Peter Lawford. (Lawford gets an “in name only” cameo, billed on a Desert Inn marquee that Silva drives past).

Silva plays a Sicilian Robin Hood-styled folk hero named Giordano, who gets shanghaied by an American mafioso in exile into knocking off a bunch of competing mob bosses. Now an assassin renamed Johnny Cool, his reptilian features and cold-blooded march across America finding creative ways to cross off the names on his hit list – including machine gunning a gangland boss in his office from a window-washer scaffold and throwing a suitcase bomb into a pool – is making the Mob nervous. As one FBI agent on his trail says, “Everybody remembers him, but nobody knows him.”

Sammy, Liz and Henry

What really makes Johnny Cool cool is the strong supporting cast of recognizable faces. Jim Backus is a corrupt construction company owner (who twice sneaks out a Mr. Magoo laugh off camera). Telly Savalas plays a competing mob boss. A couple of curious casting choices play casino operators. John McGiver’s stern high school principal look and patrician delivery makes his veiled threat of forcing sexual favors from a woman who can’t pay her casino bill even creepier. As McGiver’s partner, political satirist Mort Sahl isn’t much of an actor (and seems to need a shave as well). All four get violently knocked off by Johnny Cool.

John McGiver and Mort Sahl

Sammy Davis Jr. plays a bystander in a backroom craps game with the unlikely name of “Educated.” Elizabeth Montgomery is a bored divorcee inexplicably drawn to dangerous Johnny and in a party scene we get a glimpse of what might happen if Samantha Stevens got out of control at one of those suburban cocktail soirees – dancing the twist with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other; then waking up the next morning hungover, with disheveled hair and wrapped in a blanket, presumably either topless or naked. When she and Johnny rendezvous at one point in a Las Vegas hotel room, she gets to cry out, “I need you! I need you right now!” Hubba hubba.

(Montgomery and Johnny Cool director William Asher met on the set. Within a year they divorced their spouses and were married to each other. Asher, who also directed several beach party movies, later became executive producer on Bewitched).

As an actor better known for his looks than his acting, Silva comes off a little stiff at times, as do most of the mob characters, whose dialogue is awkwardly formal. But the many guest stars (which also includes  Joey Bishop, Elisha Cook Jr. and Richard Anderson) give the film the spirit of a more-violent Burke's Law episode. A fun movie and always worth catching the rate times it airs on TV.

Hey, look what’s on TV! Johnny Cool plays on TCM every couple of years or so; another cable channel occasionally shows a version edited for commercials.

 

 

 

 

A history of popular music as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 3) 

The ground rules are in part 1 

80. Soft Cell –•– Tainted Love — (Peaked: July 17, 1982 at # 8)  

Another in the long tradition of British bands covering American R&B records, "Tainted Love"was originally a minor hit for Gloria Jones in 1964, who has another, unfortunate connection with a British musician as the driver of the car that hit a tree, killing her passenger and boyfriend Marc Bolan in 1977. 

79. Tom Clay –•– What the World Needs Now Is Love/Abraham, Martin and John — (Peaked: August 14, 1971 at # 8) 

There was an earnestness to the radio during the summer of 1971, what with “You’ve Got A Friend,” “Indian Reservation,” “Colour My World” (note the very earnest spelling), “Signs,” “Mercy Mercy Me” and Tom Clay’s collage “What the World Needs Now Is Love/Abraham, Martin and John,” which mixed soundbites from John and Bobby Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, with the TV and radio announcements of their deaths. Heavy-handed, ghoulish and a bummer whenever it came on the radio; you’d sit through and hope the next song was something a little more upbeat. 

78. Senator Bobby –•– Wild Thing — (Peaked: February 4, 1967 at # 20)

Political satire was a lot easier back then. Bobby Kennedy had that funny Boston accent and eleven kids, both key elements to this record. Unfortunately, "Wild Thing" opens with the studio engineer calling for “take 72,” an allusion to the 1972 presidential election and the seemingly bright future in store for the senator from New York. 

77. Bruce Channel –•– Hey! Baby — (Peaked: March 10, 1962 at # 1)     

When this Texas singer toured his only hit through the UK, the Beatles opened a few of his shows. The story is that Channel’s harmonica player, Delbert McClinton, showed John Lennon a few harmonica riffs, which Lennon morphed into the backing for “Love Me Do.” McClinton was a one-hit wonder himself with “Giving It Up For Your Love” (#8 in 1981). 

76. Dave Brubeck Quartet –•– Take Five — (Peaked: October 9, 1961 at # 25)    

I have a hazy memory of puppets on a kid’s show (Sandy Becker? Chuck McCann?) doing some sort of skit behind this song. 

75. Deodato –•– Also Sprach Zarathustra (2001) — (Peaked: March 31, 1973 at # 2)       

Richard Strauss’ 1896 classical piece has become easy shorthand for the entrance of something momentous, epic and grand. Not surprisingly it was the music that accompanied Elvis Presley’s arrival onstage. This jazzy version shed the pomposity and was used ironically in the movie Being There when Pete Sellers finally leaves the mansion he’s never set foot out of, revealing a neighborhood that has completely fallen apart in the interim. 

74. The Wonder Who? –•– Don’t Think Twice — (Peaked: December 25, 1965 at # 12) 

Everybody who heard this on the radio immediately knew it was the Four Seasons, so that Wonder Who bit wasn’t fooling anybody. But the concept is strange. What if Frankie Valli sang an entire song in falsetto? And it was a Dylan song? 

73. R. Dean Taylor –•– Indiana Wants Me — (Peaked: November 7, 1970 at # 5)             

The 70s were full of records like "Indiana Wants Me", story songs with enough plot for a 90-minute made-for-television movie. In a mythical Aaron Spelling production, our hero (Michael Ontkean) has killed a man who insulted his wife (Kate Jackson) and is on the run until, "Red lights are flashin' around me/Yeah, love, it looks like they found me.” (The role of the gruff Indiana sheriff who admires Ontkean but must do his job and bring him in goes to George Kennedy). The song’s ending, with its police sirens, gunfire and bullhorn demands to surrender has a clumsy charm and may have served as an inspiration for Stevie Wonder’s little radio play of cops arresting the innocent hayseed at the end of “Living For the City.” 

72. Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band –•– Cherchez La Femme — (Peaked: January 29, 1977 at # 27)

Retro disco/swing sounding like a cross between Cab Calloway and the Pointer Sisters, “Cherchez La Femme” gets docked a point for the gratuitous mention of Tommy Mottola, record company executive and the group’s benefactor, who didn’t need the publicity. Boy, you didn’t see groups like the Beatles write songs about their manager … oh wait … “Baby You’re A Rich Man.” 

71. Toni Basil –•– Mickey — (Peaked: December 11, 1982 at # 1)            

Highlights from Toni Basil's Zelig-like show business career: Dancing with Elvis Presley in Viva Las Vegas, her first film; Playing one of the two hookers in Easy Rider who drop acid, take off their clothes and freak out in the cemetery; Choreographing the video for “Once In A Lifetime” (and in doing so creating the “David Byrne” nutty persona); Founding – and as its token white member – The Lockers dance troupe, before giving her spot to smooth-moving fat kid Fred Berry.

 

 

 

The other side of hell

 

After sharing the two worst weeks in the history of recorded music earlier ("Two weeks of hell," here are the two greatest weeks, the new reality of popular music, late summer 1965.

 

My independence seems to vanish in the haze. No direction home. James Brown becomes James Brown. The instrumental overture at the start of "California Girls." The Yardbirds’ lead guitar that sounds like a sitar. Barry McGuire, We Five and the Turtles find their boot heels to be wanderin'. “I Got You Babe” and “Hang On Sloopy,” a couple of pop music immortals. Jazz makes a rare -- maybe only -- top ten showing with Ramsey Lewis. “Catch Us If You Can” is the Dave Clark Five’s best record. Even the melodramatic “Unchained Melody” has a second life 25 years later when it’s used in the racy “pottery scene” in Ghost (a movie I’ve proudly avoided). If 1965 is rock's greatest year, and it just might be, look no further than these two weeks.

 

US Top 40 Singles for the Week Ending 11th September 1965

1 HELP! –•– The Beatles

2 LIKE A ROLLING STONE –•– Bob Dylan

3 EVE OF DESTRUCTION –•– Barry McGuire

4 YOU WERE ON MY MIND –•– We Five

5 CALIFORNIA GIRLS –•– The Beach Boys

6 UNCHAINED MELODY –•– The Righteous Brothers

7 I GOT YOU BABE –•– Sonny and Cher

8 PAPA’S GOT A BRAND NEW BAG –•– James Brown and the Famous Flames

9 IT AIN’T ME BABE –•– The Turtles

10 THE “IN” CROWD –•– The Ramsey Lewis Trio

 

US Top 40 Singles for the Week Ending 18th September 1965

1 HELP! –•– The Beatles (Capitol)

2 EVE OF DESTRUCTION –•– Barry McGuire

3 LIKE A ROLLING STONE –•– Bob Dylan

4 YOU WERE ON MY MIND –•– We Five

5 CATCH US IF YOU CAN –•– The Dave Clark Five

6 THE “IN” CROWD –•– The Ramsey Lewis Trio

7 HANG ON SLOOPY –•– The McCoys

8 IT AIN’T ME BABE –•– The Turtles

9 I GOT YOU BABE –•– Sonny and Cher

10 HEART FULL OF SOUL –•– The Yardbirds 

 

A history of popular music, as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 2)

Second in the series; the criteria for what makes a one-hit wonder is in the entry below. 

90: J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers –•– Last Kiss — (Peaked: November 7, 1964 at # 2)

For a time, teenage tragedy songs were the rage – grim storylines of star-crossed couples who vow eternal love just before one of them is killed, preferably (because it’s a lot closer to home if you’re a teenager who just got their driver’s license) in a vehicular accident. By 1964, the genre looked to have run its course when suddenly “Last Kiss” (and “Leader of the Pack” by the Shangri-Las) pushed with clutching hands through graveyard dirt. J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers were touring the Midwest as "Last Kiss" rattled at the bottom of the charts. Early one morning in Ohio, a car in their caravan drifted into the oncoming lane and rammed head-on into a trailer truck. The driver of the car was killed, and Wilson broke his ankle. The tour continued, with Wilson hobbling onstage on a crutch, and “Last Kiss” began climbing up the charts.  

89. The Castaways –•– Liar, Liar — (Peaked: October 23, 1965 at # 12) 

88: The Elegants –•– Little Star — (Peaked: August 25, 1958 at # 1)

Based as they are on childhood rhymes, these songs offer instant familiarity. The Castaways were a Minneapolis band that mostly played Midwestern frat parties until they cut "Liar Liar" for a local record label. Built around the “liar, liar, pants are on fire” playground taunt, it was a national breakout. The Elegants were five Italian teenagers from Staten Island who reworked “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” to create a doo-wop gem. 

87. Dean Friedman –•– Ariel — (Peaked: June 25, 1977 at # 26)

Dean Friedman of Paramus salutes his hometown’s most spectacular cultural contribution, the waterfall at Paramus Park, as well as Dairy Queen (he mentions getting onion rings, so it was probably the one on Route 4, where you could also get hot dogs and hamburgers from their “brazier”). 

86. Tom Tom Club –•– Genius of Love — (Peaked: April 24, 1982 at # 31)

The three members of the Talking Heads not named David Byrne pay tribute to black music, capturing a very specific time, not unlike Arthur Conley’s shout out of the soul superstars of 1966 in “Sweet Soul Music.” When someone gets around to making a documentary about inner-city culture of the early 80s, “Genius of Love” will play on the soundtrack as kids carry boom boxes the size of window air conditioners on their shoulder and graffiti-covered elevated trains roll by. 

85. Tiny Tim –•– Tip Toe Thru’ The Tulips With Me — (Peaked: June 29, 1968 at # 17) 

84. The New Vaudeville Band –•– Winchester Cathedral — (Peaked: December 3, 1966 at # 1)

Mostly in the UK, music hall and vaudeville were a strange offshoot of psychedelia that not even the Beatles (or at least Paul) were immune to (“When I’m 64” and “Your Mother Should Know”). The New Vaudeville Band were following the trend, but Tiny Tim was the real deal, an eccentric human jukebox who seemingly knew the words and music to every song written since the turn of the century. 

83. The Undisputed Truth –•– Smiling Faces Sometimes — (Peaked: September 4, 1971 at # 3)

Serpentine slow-burner written by Motown’s Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong, whose songwriting credits are pretty amazing, including Money, Just My Imagination, Psychedelic Shack, Cloud Nine, Runaway Child, I Wish It Would Rain, Too Many Fish in the Sea and I Heard It Through the Grapevine. 

82. Kai Winding –•– More — (Peaked: August 24, 1963 at # 8)  

Someone at Fairmount School, obviously with a negligent parent, saw Mondo Cane at the Fox Theater and it was the talk of the day. “You really see a guy get killed by a bull? Stabbed with its horns?” When, many years later, the film finally made its television debut on Channel 9 – which should tell you a lot about Mondo Cane – it turned out to be a dull anthology of dated “weird” scenes, like senior citizen bodybuilders. It had a nice theme song though, sort of a rewrite of Telstar (or maybe it was the other way around). 

81. Sheb Wooley –•– Purple People Eater — (Peaked: June 9, 1958 at # 1)

Woolworth's in Hackensack sold one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater toy figures. They scared me.

 

 

A history of popular music, as told by 100 one-hit wonders (part 1) 

The ground rules for defining a one-hit wonder: Each of these artists must have hit the Billboard Top 40 with only one song. Ever. That makes them a one-hit wonder. The Buffalo Springfield, regardless of their legacy, are a one-hit wonder by this definition. The Knack are not since their follow-up to “My Sharona” made the Top 40. This list only captures songs from 1955 to 1989, more or less paralleling my interest in this kind of minutiae and freeing me from having to comment on “Who Let the Dogs Out,” “The Macarena” or “Barbie Girl.” If this list covered the greatest one-hit wonders based on personal tastes, it would look much different. This is more about the one-hit wonders that are culturally, historically or aesthetically significant – or at the very least offered something I could say about them. 

100: Hillside Singers –•– I’d Like to Teach the World — (Peaked: January 15, 1972 at #13)

99: T-Bones –•– No Matter What Shape — (Peaked: February 5, 1966 at # 3)     

As Middle America went about its business humming these commercial jingles, adapting them as standalone songs seemed almost too easy. The T-Bones were the LA studio musicians known as The Wrecking Crew, channeling the Ventures with their remake of the Alka-Seltzer jingle. The Hillside Singers were a studio creation that sounded too close to Up With People for comfort. Like an opened can of Coca-Cola that’s been allowed to sit, "I'd Like To Teach The World" had no fizz; it was just sweet and syrupy. 

98: Grateful Dead –•– Touch of Grey — (Peaked: September 26, 1987 at # 9)     

The 60s really ended at some point in the 80s with John Lennon and Marvin Gaye murdered, Keith Richards and David Crosby perpetually zonked; Brian Wilson unable to get out of bed; Bob Dylan with writer’s block; and Paul McCartney thinking it would be a good idea to write and record with Michael Jackson. But by the late 80s, with tie-dyed shirts back in fashion and the 20^th anniversary of the Summer of Love, that 60s incense was in the air again. The Grateful Dead, a 60s survivor not known for their self-preservation skills (or their ability to write a catchy tune), somehow tapped into all this and caught late-inning lightning with an ode to growing old gracefully – “old” in this case meant approaching 50.

97: The Jamies –•– Summertime, Summertime — (Peaked: September 22, 1958 at # 26) 

In a 1978 movie called Fingers, Harvey Keitel plays a gifted pianist with a knack for violently shaking down people who owe his gangster father money. Fidgety, impulsive -- in short a poster child for Asperger's -- when Keitel’s character isn't practicing dramatic piano concertos, he’s walking around Manhattan with a portable tape machine obsessively playing "Summertime, Summertime” over and over. Heard mostly on oldies radio, predictably when the seasons changed, the song was always pleasant enough, backed by with what sounds like a harpsichord. 

96: Edie Brickell & New Bohemians –•– What I Am — (Peaked: March 4, 1989 at # 7)    

Stoner anthem celebrating a complete lack of metaphysical awareness and depth on the part of the singer. 

95: Gary Numan –•– Cars — (Peaked: June 7, 1980 at # 9)

Maybe it was all the synthesizers, but something about New Wave music brought out the automaton in everybody. Gary Numan (new man – get it? Like an android!) offered non-emotional vocals and looked like a department store mannequin, but it was the very human drums and tambourine that kept this record moving until the end when the synthesizers threaten and then take over. 

94: Moms Mabley –•– Abraham, Martin and John — (Peaked: July 19, 1969 at # 35)      

93: Pigmeat Markham –•– Here Comes the Judge — (Peaked: July 27, 1968 at # 19)       

Possibly spurred by the late-career success of Redd Foxx, a handful of entertainers who spent most of their lives working the ‘chitlin’ circuit’ of nightclubs and theaters that catered to black audiences found themselves nearly in the mainstream of popular entertainment. Moms Mabley left her raunchy nightclub act to become a semi-regular on the Merv Griffin Show and at 75 was the oldest living person to make the Billboard Top 40, croaking a melancholy “Abraham, Martin and John.” When Sammy Davis Jr. (who began as a child tap dancer on the chitlin’ circuit) used the “Here Comes the Judge” line on Laugh-In, he was recalling an old Pigmeat Markham comedy routine and creating a new national catch-phrase overnight. Markham, 64, was rushed into the studio to capture the moment with some Jurassic Period rap. 

92: Victor Lundberg –•– An Open Letter to My Teenage Son — (Peaked: December 2, 1967 at # 10)     

Surely a hit on VFW hall jukeboxes, with “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” swelling behind him, moonlighting newscaster Victor Lundberg in a “conversation” with his long-haired son starts out sympathetic, before veering right and ending with a promise that if the kid burns his draft card, "burn your birth certificate at the same time. From that moment on, I have no son." Like a troublesome stomach virus, this record thankfully moved through the charts quickly. Three weeks after its debut, it peaked at #10. The next week it slipped to #22 and then it was gone. As might have been any kid whose father, looking to send some sort of message, played this on the family stereo. OK pop, and if you’re looking for me to throw out the garbage tonight, I’ll probably be halfway to Toronto. 

91: Jim Backus and Friend –•– Delicious — (Peaked: July 21, 1958 at # 40)

Listen as Mr. Magoo sits in a dark cocktail lounge plying his date with champagne.