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!

The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)

December 1958–January 1959

During the holiday season of 1958, America failed.

This is the only Christmas song to ever hit #1 (Thankfully, Billboard created a separate Christmas chart a few years later). Not only was it the top selling single for the two weeks leading up to the big day, it continued to hold the top spot for the first two weeks of January. For the next few years, it reentered the top 100 every winter. In 2007, following the release of a new Alvin and the Chipmunks movie, it was back in the top 100 again. Another "remixed" version of the song also entered the charts.

What can I really say about Alvin and the Chipmunks, other than they are extremely annoying, and inexplicably popular. But I guess I can use this opportunity to talk about Christmas music a bit. It seems most Americans have a love-hate relationship with the genre. We won't hesitate to complain about hearing "Sleigh Bells" for the thousandth time in the mall, but I think almost everybody has a selection of holiday-themed music that strikes a certain chord. For me, it's the Nutracker Suite and Elvis's Christmas music. I think what's most important is that I used to hear these every year as a child, at a time when I was particularly excited about being a kid. There's nothing like a dose of nostalgia from time to time, and this stuff really does it for me. Then there's a Christmas album by gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, whose often indecipherable vocal eccentricities were a constant source of amusement for me and my sister ("the Hebrew chil-DRAH-NAH").

Even in China, a place where you'd most expect to be able to escape from the banalities of American consumer culture, jingle bells abound at the ever-increasing number of malls and big box stores. Seeing wiry Chinese Santa Clauses walking around, and signs that say "Xmas Merry!" is slightly bizarre - it's a variety of Western/American holiday symbols, completely removed from their cultural context.

But anyway, I guess the main conclusion I can draw from the Chipmunks, Elvis, and Tchaikovsky is that I can't really like new Christmas music - it's all about what I grew up with. I shudder to think that, had my family played the 'Munks around the house when I was young, I might have the same wistful feeling for this stupid song as I do for Elvis. I have only Mom and Dad to thank for that one!

F

To Know Him Is to Love Him

December 1958

A name you'll be seeing a lot in this blog is Phil Spector, and "To Know Him Is to Love Him" was his very first hit. You could say he was off to a good start, as it spent 3 weeks at #1. Unlike his future work, his involvement in the Teddy Bears was as a singing member (not the lead, obviously).



It's really a sweet song, and I'm gonna go ahead and call it the best song I've covered so far. Not to get too technical but it makes great use of a fairly standard chord progression - something about that transition from the vi to the IV chord just has a tremendous feeling of lift (in the first verse, it falls on "makes my life worthwhile"). It does exactly what a great pop song should do - it takes established norms of songwriting and tweaks them just enough to make something really original.

As for the performance, of course it's a little corny, but you gotta love how singer Annette Kleinbard keeps it subdued for the verses, but then amps it up for the middle eight section. It gives the song a real dynamic feeling.

"To Know Him Is to Love Him" was successfully recorded in the late 80s by the trio of Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, and Emmylou Harris. It's proven to be quite an enduring song over the years, having been covered by artists as diverse as the Beatles and, oddly enough, Amy Winehouse. For me though, the original version is by far the best.

After all the news about Phil Spector in the last few years, it can be a bit eerie listening to this old tune - like looking at old childhood photos of a serial killer. But look into this man's eyes, and you just might see the kindness of his heart:

A

Tom Dooley

November 1958

This arrangement by the Kingston Trio of a traditional American folk song seems pretty left-field for a chart topping single, but here it is, popular enough to interrupt Conway Twitty's #1 spot for one short week.

The Kingston Trio was part of the so-called "folk revival" in America, in which age-old traditional songs were brought back into the public consciousness. Reading about the group online, I'm realizing they were enormously popular around the turn of the decade, which is funny because time has mostly forgotten them. Hearing this, their most famous song, it's not hard to see why the kids these days aren't trading Kingston Trio mp3s. The music is extremely campy and unchallenging, which is incredible because the lyrics are quite dark - the story of a man about to be hanged for a brutal murder. It's definitely not your usual pop single fare for any decade, let alone the 50s, and there's huge dissonance in the fact that they're singing it like it's "You Are My Sunshine."

The folk revival would eventually culminate in Bob Dylan. Murder, trial, prison, and execution have always been popular topics in folk music, and Dylan wrote some of the best songs ever written on these topics. "I Shall Be Released" is about a wrongfully accused man in prison, "The Ballad of Hollis Brown" is about a man driven to a terrible crime, and "Seven Curses" (a little-known masterpiece imo, just don't pay attention to the corny fan video) deals with all the themes "Tom Dooley" does, but it goes even further and it's a far more powerful song.

Anyway, "Dooley" is apparently based on a true story, and the song was so popular that it inspired a movie, The Legend of Tom Dooley, which I'll reserve judgment on but I'm not gonna rush out to find a copy.

B-

It's Only Make Believe

November 1958

Conway Twitty, who just might have the stupidest name in all of history, was apparently an extremely successful recording artist, with forty (!) #1 singles on the country charts, which was a record until 2006. However, only this song topped the overall Billboard chart, with a Grover Cleveland-esque run of two nonconsecutive week-long terms.

You may have noticed that Mr. Twitty really, really sounds like Elvis. Of course, in the late 50s there was no shortage of little aspiring Elvises all across this great country, but this song made me do a double take. The similarity is so striking that it is his defining feature. The song itself is fine - a pretty clever little tune that I wouldn't mind hearing from time to time, but you could fool 99 out of 100 people into thinking it was the King crooning those lyrics instead of Sir Twitty.

It's an inevitability of popular music that if somebody is insanely successful, they will be copied. Thinking back on the music that was popular when I was growing up - well, who remembers the band Bush? It's funny because it never occurred to me when I was 13 years old, but I realized later that the singer sounds inexcusably like Kurt Cobain. It's more than wearing your influences on your sleeve - it's completely surrendering to them, living and breathing them. It becomes almost a tribute act. I imagine it's not easy handling your success when you pretty much owe it all to one person you haven't ever met (except, of course, through his records).

In college, me and a few friends spent a semester as a Ween tribute band, playing only covers of their songs. It was a lot of fun, and I was surprised at the generally warm reception we got, but after you do that for a while, you kinda start to wish you had written those songs. Of course, there's a huge difference between something you do for fun in college, and something you devote your life to. It's probably unfair for me to extrapolate my experiences onto Professor Twitty's, but I would be surprised if he didn't spend a sleepless night or two fantasizing about being Elvis. Probably a lot more than one or two. Judging from his singing voice, he was damn near obsessed.

B

It's All in the Game

September–November 1958

A pretty massive hit here - this ballad by Tommy Edwards was #1 for a whopping six weeks. It seems the fall season of 1958 was practically defined by this song and "Volare."

I like how the title of the song wouldn't be at all out of place in 2009, albeit with an entirely different context. But seriously, what I actually do like about the song is that it doesn't rely on a gimmicky hook ("Twinkle twinkle little star...") to be a successful pop song. The more I listen to it, the more I like it - it has a fine melody which gets a solid treatment from Edwards. The lyrics are not your usual pop fare, either. Sure, your man treats you kinda bad sometimes, but hey, he loves you sometimes too, so stick with the guy. The thing is, the singer isn't that guy - it seems to be advice to a woman about another man.

The song has a pretty interesting history, actually. The wordless melody was written way back in 1911, by one Charles Dawes - history buffs may recognize him as the man who would become vice president of the United States under Calvin Coolidge. Wikipedia states, somewhat hilariously, that "It is the only #1 pop single to have been cowritten by a U.S. Vice President." Words were added in 1951 by some boring, non-presidential nobody, and the song became a minor hit for a few different artists, most notably Edwards himself in a strings-laden early version of the song. The later, more famous, 1958 version apparently was given a "rock and roll" arrangement, which is clearly a relative definition.

All right, so next we'll be looking at a few lesser hits, followed by the *shudder* Christmas season.

B+

Little Star

August 1958

Domenico Modugno's reign lasted for over a month, but it was briefly interrupted by the white doo-wop one-hit wonders The Elegants, whose "Little Star" was #1 for the last week of August.

Well, what can I say about this one. It says a lot about the atmosphere at this time in America that for a week, more people bought this schlocky thing than any other record. Now, gone are the days when people will take you seriously for writing a song unironically based on a nursery rhyme.

Sorry guys, I really don't have anything to say about this song. It's not very good - it's almost a parody of its own genre. Gotta love those matching plaid suits, though. And look at the mug on that kid on the left! Justin Timberlake he ain't.

C-

Nel blu dipinto di blu (Volare)

August–September 1958

As hard as it is to imagine a non-English language song becoming a huge hit today, Italian singer (and apparently, songwriter) Domenico Modugno had a #1 hit for 5 weeks with "Volare," as it was popularly called.



It's such a time capsule - his greased-back hair, his suit and bowtie, and the corny jazz orchestra playing behind him. It's not a bad song, I guess - the chorus is pretty catchy even though I don't know what he's singing about. I guess it doesn't really matter ("volare" means "to fly").

I recently saw The Godfather again, and I can't help but be reminded of the character Johnny Fontane, the pop singer of the Corleone family whose songs sound more or less like this one. The same crooning style, the same swingin' jazz accompaniment. In the film, Johnny gets the leading role in a big Hollywood movie after the producer wakes up one night with the severed head of his prize stallion under the covers. It's a bit of dramatic flair from Mario Puzo and Francis Ford Coppola, but you gotta wonder. You gotta wonder.

Anyway, teen idol Bobby Rydell hit the top ten with his English-language version in 1960, two summers later. It's given a more "rock" treatment, but somehow it ends up being campier than the original.

C+

Poor Little Fool

August 1958

What better singer to kick off this project than dreamy, dreamy Ricky Nelson? Here, take a moment to bask in the deep, blue oceans that are his eyes:

Talk about a sign of the times. It's hard to imagine a chart-topping song in this day and age (or even ten years later) where a male singer refers to himself diminutively as "little." The words of "Poor Little Fool" tell a simple story - once upon a time, this guy used to go around breakin' young girls' hearts. Then a girl came along that broke HIS heart, and now, boy howdy, he's learned his lesson! It's totally clean-cut and wholesome, and it's very 1950s.

And for all its corniness, isn't it just a nice little song? I mean, it's not blowing my mind, but it's tuneful, it's got a pretty strong hook in the chorus, and it's well performed by our non-threatening charmer Ricky. After having the 2009 charts topped for a stunning 26 consecutive weeks by the *sigh* Black Eyed Peas, it's pretty refreshing to go back to a time when someone could hit #1 by, you know, actually having a good singing voice. Nelson would have another #1 a few years later, so we're not through with him just yet.

B+