Kansas City

May 1959

The songwriting team of Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller was one of the most successful in early rock and roll. They're probably best known for giving us several of Elvis's biggest hits ("Hound Dog," "Jailhouse Rock," and "Loving You," among others), as well as most of the Coasters' hits. "Kansas City" was one of their early successes, becoming a minor hit for Little Willie Littlefield in 1952. But it wasn't until '59 that it became a staple of rock music, due to a version by Wilbert Harrison that spent two weeks at #1.



It's since been covered by countless singers and groups (here's the Beatles playing it, in an altered version). But let's compare the original to the #1 hit version that came out seven years later. I think this is a very good example of the development of rock and roll music. The Littlefield version could be considered R&R, if you were so inclined. But not exactly.

Probably the most defining aspect of rock music is the drum beat. In the 1951 song, it has a very clear jazz "swing" feel to it – listen especially to the hi-hat. And how about those saxophone lines that run constantly throughout the song? Again, very heavily jazz-inflected. The whole song has a sort of lazy trotting feel to it (not in a bad way).

And now the Wilbert Harrison version. The difference is night and day – just listen to the pound-pound-pounding of those drums. This, in particular, is perhaps the most important part of what makes rock music what it is. The beat goes "one TWO three FOUR..." with a strong emphasis on beats two and four. Listen to any pre-50s music, and you won't find this rhythm. It seems so basic and intuitive, but it was indeed an innovation – somebody had to do it first. Jazz music often placed the emphasis on two and four, but it was never a strong drum hit like it is here. Both songs feature a Fats Domino-esque rolling piano figure, and a similar vocal style, but the later version is much more "rock and roll" than the earlier one. And what's that in the '59 version? An electric guitar solo! Here is the influence of another major figure in rock music, Chuck Berry. Although he never had a #1 hit (What's that? He did? I CAN'T HEAR YOU LALALALALALALALALALA), his influence was felt throughout the next decade and long after that.

Another thing that struck me about Harrison's "Kansas City" – I'm surprised a pre-civil rights America was so enthusiastic about a black man singing such implicitly sexual lyrics. But I guess if "Stagger Lee" could pass muster then so could this.

A+

The Happy Organ

May 1959

In what might be the most unintentionally hilarious artist/song-title combination ever to become a hit, a guy calling himself Dave "Baby" Cortez recorded an instrumental song called "The Happy Organ."

It's surprising to see an instrumental song at the top of the chart, if only for one week – even fifty years ago when instrumentals were somewhat viable as a genre. And of course I'm always happy to hear a rock and roll song instead of a schmaltzy pop track.

And what sets this one apart from the rest is, of course, the organ as a lead instrument. Jazz artists like Jimmy Smith were using it earlier in the decade, but as far as I know, "Happy Organ" was the first rock and roll hit to feature the instrument. The implications of this are pretty far-reaching – the organ came to be an essential feature of the R&B, garage rock, and psychedelic music of the next decade.

Cortez himself had another top ten hit a few years later called "Rinky Dink" (okay – song titles were not this guy's strong point). Aptly, the very same year (1962), Booker T. and the M.G.'s had a hit with "Green Onions." The difference in style between the two songs is striking. Cortez may have been the innovator, but his songs were essentially novelty hits. The M.G.'s had soul in a big way. If you haven't watched the video because you figured you already know the song from its (over)use in commercials and sports venues, watch it – it's a particularly good live performance. In just a few short years, the organ had been transformed from a curiosity to a major driving force in music, particularly in the R&B genre.

B+

Come Softly to Me

April–May 1959

The singing trio Two Girls and a Guy recorded a pleasant little number called "Come Softly to Me" – by the time the song was released, they had changed their name to the Fleetwoods, and the song became #1 for four weeks, their first and biggest hit.

You don't really hear pop music anymore like this – where the music's entire appeal is in the vocal arrangement for a small group of singers. (Or do you? Let me know if you think of something.) There are no frills whatsoever, and the pleasure that the Americans of 1959 derived from hearing the song is derived from hearing a few voices sing a nice tune, and harmonize with each other. The instrumental arrangement is sparse, and the singers don't have much personality. The success of the song rides almost completely on the notes put down on paper, as opposed to many pop songs which have passionate performances, or unique production techniques. Any vocal trio could have sung this song and it would have turned out more or less the same.

It reminds me of – bear with me – classical music. Schubert's fifth symphony will sound basically the same no matter which orchestra is playing it, under which conductor (assuming a competent performance). Obviously some performances/recordings are more passionate or inspired than others, but the beauty of the symphony lies largely in the written notes. As a counterexample, the Rolling Stones' "Symphony," er, "Sympathy for the Devil" sounds lousy when it's played by anybody but the Stones, as proved by any number of useless cover versions. The power of the song lies not in the written notes, but in the hugely inspired performance thereof.

Clearly these are two extremes, and lots of music falls in between. I purposely chose something from the Classical (late 18th to early 19th c.) period because of the music's reserved nature. Cognoscenti may scoff, but I would say that performances of Haydn and Mozart don't vary as greatly as performances of, say, Stravinsky. The 20th century modernist's music is much more dynamic and varied, so various interpretations could be quite different, while still playing the same notes on the page. On the other side, we have a group like the Beach Boys – if, in a parallel universe, a different five guys had played and sung the exact same notes and the exact same words, it's likely that their story would have worked out pretty much the same. Indeed, the band's lineup changed quite a bit, even in the 60s – did you notice? Sure, they were greatly talented performers, but the greatest aspect of their music is in the masterful writing of Brian Wilson.

Okay, okay... back to "Come Softly to Me." To me, this is firmly on the Schubert side of the fence. The music shares almost nothing else with that of the great classical master, and its similarity is pretty far under the surface, but it's there. Let's go back to our parallel universe – a different two girls and a guy had the exact same idea, at the exact same time, and recorded the same song. Would it have been a hit? Methinks so.

C+

Venus

March–April 1959

Non-threatening crooner Frankie Avalon scored a five-weeker with "Venus," probably the most popular song ever written about Roman mythology.

This is the kind of soulless pap I'm glad we're rid of (don't worry, it's been replaced by a different kind of soulless pap). While it gets maybe one coolness point for essentially praying to a pagan god, it loses thousands for being about half as exciting as tying your shoes. Also, "a little girl for me to thrill" might have flown in the 50s, but today this guy would be on Dateline NBC.

Almost twenty years later, Avalon rerecorded the song in a disco version, which actually charted, despite being completely dull. We'll have plenty of time to talk about disco, though, when it comes around in the blog – can't wait!

D

Stagger Lee

February–March 1959

It's hard to believe that the same America that gave the Chipmunks a #1 single turned around and started buying Lloyd Price's "Stagger Lee," a surprisingly graphic tale of a barroom murder which was #1 for four weeks. Here it is, accompanied by a pretty fun fan video:

What can I say, this song is just plain awesome. It's based on an old blues song of obscure authorship, which in turn was apparently based on a real murder; the most famous recording before 1959 was by Mississippi John Hurt, who spells it "Stack O' Lee" but still seems to pronounce it the same. The older version is pretty different, and not just in the musical arrangement. The main theme in Hurt's version is made pretty explicit by the oft-repeated refrain: "That bad man / Oh, cruel Stack O' Lee." The later hit version stops at the murder, but Hurt goes on to tell of Lee's execution by hanging, further reinforcing the character's villainy: "At 12 o'clock they killed him / We was all glad to see him die."

Lloyd Price's telling is much more matter-of-fact. Stagger Lee got in a fight with Billy over gambling, went home to get his .44, and came back to shoot Billy dead. The morality of the situation is not explored. Stagger Lee might be the bad guy, but then again he might be the hero – the story is told completely from his perspective, and how about that upbeat rock and roll arrangement?

TV host Dick Clark surely acknowledged this moral ambiguity, and so his solution was to have the lyrics changed so that Price could appear on American Bandstand. The altered version is so absurd that it's practically a parody. Not only is there no gambling; there's no murder. Stagger Lee and Billy even make up at the end. History is full of Bowdlers and Braghettones – as long as there's art, there'll be people declaring it obscene. The good news is that history invariably sides with the artist. "Stagger Lee" is a classic, and the Dick Clark version has been relegated to a small corner of history (only 174 views on that Youtube video!).

A+

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

January–February 1959

Originally written in the 30s for the musical Roberta, "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" has been covered many a-time, most famously in this version by the Platters, which was #1 for three weeks. Here it is, if you can pardon the inept lip-syncing:

This is an example of a song I knew as a jazz standard before I had ever heard the original version. To choose just one example, here's Thelonious Monk playing it. Starting with the bebop artists of the 40s, converting popular songs and show tunes into jazz abstractions was standard fare, and this continued through the 50s and 60s - unquestionably the most productive and creative three decades for jazz music. But as somebody from a much later time, all that music is from the past for me, and you might say I tend to discover these old songs backwards. After all, the intended listeners of all the old jazz greats were expected to already be familiar with songs like these. With the occasional exception, it's the opposite for me - the jazz version is a brand new tune.

It could just be my biased opinion, but I believe you really don't have to know the original song to appreciate improvisations based on it. Although for my favorite example of this, I think everybody knows the original - "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music. The show tune is ridiculously campy but kind of cute, I guess, in its own way. However, John Coltrane's interpretation of it is deeply spiritual and moving (I won't link to it - it's very long, and you should really hear a version with good sound quality to do it justice). If you haven't heard it, it probably seems impossible to take such a corny old song so seriously, but Coltrane and his (terrific) band completely reinvent the song, so much that you totally forget where it came from.

So what do I think about "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes"? I don't really have much to say about it other than it's a good song. A damn good song. I don't know the original show tune version, and quite frankly I don't really care to seek it out, but I really like the Platters singing it. Okay well... till next time!

B+

Special Secret Bonus Post—1958 Awards

I think it's probably a good idea to recap each year when I get to the end of it. It's not going to be as interesting for '58 because I started more than halfway through the year, but here goes:

Most Weeks at #1: "It's All in the Game," with 6 weeks, which just barely edges out "Volare" at 5.

Best Song: "To Know Him Is to Love Him." I dunno, something about this tune just resonates well with me. You may or may not agree but I just think it's a really well-written song. And I'm not even taking into account the historical importance of it being Phil Spector's first hit single. Keep in mind, this is merely my favorite #1 single of 1958, not my favorite song - that would undoubtedly be Chuck Berry's "Johnny B. Goode."

Worst Song: "Christmas Don't Be Late." Easy choice for this year. Oh that adorable Alvin, he really wants a hula hoop!

Most Surprising Song: "Tom Dooley." I had no idea this kind of music was this popular in the late 50s. This blog is, of course, a learning experience for me.

Well that does it for this year. See you in 1959!