A prayer for our times. The Beau Brummels offered up this track in the mid-sixties, then promptly tossed it into the discard bin. The group, incidentally, has one of the most generously endowed discard bins in rock. It finally did show up for the first time on Rhino’s 2005 limited edition Magic Hollow box set, which is now out of print but mandatory, along with Sundazed’s San Fran Sessions (also out of print) if you have any interest in getting a truthful overview of the Brummels. See here for my dream “Best of the BBs” compilation.

R.I.P.: Beau Brummels drummer John Peterson passed away November 11, 2007.

The Beau Brummels – “God Help the Teenagers Tonight” (1965)

When Suzi Q. showed up on Happy Days as Pinky Tuscadero’s bass-thumping sister Leather, that’s the first most Americans had heard of her. For those of you keeping track of the nation’s shortcomings, the fact that Suzi never made the Top 40 here before 1979 (the regrettable “Stumblin’ In” with Chris Norman) certainly ought to make the list. Little did Happy Days viewers know that she’d long been reigning supreme on the British charts in the early seventies with insanely great singles like “Can the Can,” “48 Crash,” “Daytona Demon” and “Devil Gate Drive.” But I wonder how many who might have already known this bit of info also knew that she’d played in a blistering Detroit fab fivesome along with her sisters Patti and Arlene in the late sixties? I knew nothing of these early years until my friend Jim recently got me all up to speed and sent me some fine pics of the girls looking like Shangri-La cousins. Best of all, he let me hear their debut 1967 single: the moody “Never Thought You’d Leave Me” backed with what must be the original and ultimate bad girl rock and roll anthem, “What a Way to Die.” Have a listen yourself.

(Suzi’s the one in the group photo above drummer Darline, who’s sitting on the floor.)

The Pleasure Seekers – “Never Thought You’d Leave Me” (1967)

The Pleasure Seekers – “What a Way to Die” (1967)

Jim Fusilli, Pet Sounds (2005)

I’d love it even more if they’d do a book about the Osmonds (I actually sent in a proposal once) or Bay City Rollers, but Continuum’s “33 1/3” series of little books about influential albums has still been a lot of fun. Their Pet Sounds volume was written by novelist and Wall Street Journal arts columnist Jim Fusilli, and you’ve got to admire his willingness to take on a subject so many have already written about. He’s got a right to, and that’s pretty much the point of his book, that Pet Sounds is such a deeply personal expression that’s presented in such a universally appealing way that it still has the power, after all these years, to touch individual listeners deeply and make them feel as though it were written just for them. The Pet Sounds of Charles Granata, Kingsley Abbot, David Leaf and Brian Wilson himself is the same album with the same unchangeable history, but its contents are so rich and its influence so expansive that it gives Fusilli and you and me all kinds of room to call it our own and maybe even publish something about why.

The book is definitely a “think piece” – there are no clear reasons why Fusilli’s divided the chapters the way he has, so it ends up feeling like a little book of pocket Pet Sounds meditations that you’re more inclined to dip into rather than read cover to cover. I do wish that the “personal meaning” aspect of his book would have compelled Fusilli to interact with the album even more on a personal level than he does in the book. I really love his introduction, where he talks about growing up in Hoboken and illustrating just how lifeguard-like the Beach Boys were to him as a doggie-paddling 1960s adolescent. It gives the book a Boys of Summer aura, and I, for one, was disappointed that he opted not to continue in such an aggressively first-person fashion. The book really crackles at the all too infrequent points when he does, though. (I think this approach is harder to pull off than it seems, although Ron Schaumburg did an especially fine job with his Growing Up with the Beatles back in the seventies.)

posted by Kim Simpson

The old 1940s Bozo records appeared in the grand fashion of the day – two 78s and a book tucked inside what might nowadays be mistaken as an antique photo album. You could read along with the dialogue and take in the glorious full color illustrations until Bozo said it was “time to turn the page in your picture book.” When I was a kid I used to spend a lot of time at the house of a friend of mine who was the youngest of nine. His parents had started buying kids’ records in the fifties, so there was a lot of vintage stuff around. I fell deeply in love with their tattered copy of Bozo Under the Sea, which my friend actually ended up giving me. (I’ve still got it and I’m still thanking him for it after several decades.) Nowadays you can download at least four of these full albums (including Under the Sea), complete with book, at Kiddie Records Weekly. Last weekend I was going through some stuff and found a 45 version of Bozo’s Songs About Good Manners which I didn’t know I had. So here it is. Sorry ’bout those Rice Krispies in the background. I did what I could.

By the way, there’s been some controversy about Bozo’s origins. It turns out that the Bozo on Capitol Records – on these records I’m talking about – was officially the first one. Pinto Colvig, also the voice of Disney’s Goofy, did Bozo and many of the other voices on the records. The Bozo we know from The Bozo Show and elsewhere, however, developed a popular persona quite independent from the Capitol version. (Alas, another early 80’s cable flashback – remember when WGN used to show that? He’d say things like “ridicle-docle” for “ridiculous.”)

“Bozo’s Songs About Good Manners” (1954)

My friend Kyle is the biggest Raspberries fan I’ve ever met, so all these reunion gigs and releases they’ve been doing this year (they officially broke up in ‘74) have turned his 2007 into a months-on-end mega-Christmas. He and his wife Lainie had already flown out to LA to catch them there, but then they couldn’t resist a chance to see them one more time on the boys’ home (snow-covered) turf of Cleveland where they played at the State Theatre on Dec. 14. I’m posting his account of the experience here in hopes that I can encourage you BYM readers with similar fan tendencies to keep on dreamin’:

It happened we were sitting behind members of Wally’s family and members of Eric’s family at the show, and at one point I yelled out ‘yeah Wally!’ during one of his blistering solos or up-front moments, which caught their ear, especially his niece’s, and Wally’s brother-in-law ended up getting us backstage to meet the fellas, which we did … My wife also kissed on all 4 Raspberries that night.

We happened to be staying at the Wyndham across the street too, where the ‘berries were put up, so we got to hang out and chat it up with folks there some more, including Eric and the band. Next day, when we were heading out around noon, who should step into the elevator with us but Mr. Carmen himself, on his way to checking out, so we got let him know one more time what a great show it was.

Also, Eric and I had a conversation at the after-party where he tried to win over my distaste (which i had posted on the mssg boards) about the ‘berries doing cover tunes – he feels they’re appropriate and I don’t. I’m in the minority among their die-hard fans on this count, though.

I applaud their decision to rave up on and pay tribute to their source material. When I first heard the Sunset Strip album, I wasn’t at all surprised that they’d performed songs like the Who’s “I Can’t Explain” and the Searchers’ “Needles and Pins” live, although I’d have much rather they’d included “Drivin’ Around,” which is a Beach Boys tribute and an original all in one, and “Every Way I Can” instead.

Three Aces and a Joker – “Sleigh Bell Rock”

Three Aces and a Joker – “Booze Party”

In my world, there’s no better way of kicking off the month of December than by paying tribute to one of the greatest Christmas singles ever – Three Aces and a Joker’s “Sleigh Bell Rock”/ “Booze Party.” I first heard the A-side of this rockabilly shredder back in the eighties on a Rhino compilation called Rockin’ Christmas: The 50’s (1984) and have loved it ever since. Just listen to it chug and bounce like a vintage Big Boy locomotive. Hear the lead guitarist making a run for the Mr. Personality prize with his shimmering, stinger-capped licks. And dig that front man taking iron-fisted control of the Christmas party. And then there’s that B-side, the wall-shaking “Booze Party.” It gets you blotto just by listening to it and it’s no surprise that it’s popped up in cover versions all around the world.

Three Aces and a Joker

Because I grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah, I’ve been particularly intrigued by the fact that such an early slab of wild abandon could find official release during rock ’n’ roll’s baby years in my own mild hometown. This is a place, needless to say, that you won’t hear name-checked in too many conversations about rock ’n’ roll history. (Although as a native Utahn I do hold three other facts close to my heart: 1) The Beach Boys wrote a glorious song about the capital city, focusing on nothing but its fun factors and girls; 2) Brian Wilson and Mike Love wrote “Fun Fun Fun” on 2100 S. on the way to the SLC airport; and 3) Bobby Fuller spent a good portion of his childhood in Bountiful before his family moved to El Paso, where he’d begin his ascent toward rock ’n’ roll godhood.)

I posted and wrote about “Sleigh Bell Rock” here last year and something happened which, in fact, is one of the only reasons I keep fiddling around with this blog – I heard from the person responsible for my subject. The man’s name is Hal Schneider (the “H. Schneider” credited on the label). He still performs, albeit under the stage name Hal Holiday, and he currently lives in Hooper, Utah (I seem to recall the locals pronouncing that to rhyme with “whoop ‘er”). I flipped over the chance to find out more about him and the backstory of his masterpiece. So here’s what I can tell you. Hal is not only the songwriter on both cuts, but also the singer and drummer. It turns out he was serving as Airman Second Class and stationed at Hill Air Force Base in Clearfield when the record came out. He was brought up in the Bronx, and had only recently moved to Utah. He’d been playing tenor sax in a rock ’n’ roll group called the Rhythm Rockers, but was goaded by some friends into singing a few numbers with a band playing a local nightspot called Parls 89. Not only did the group subsequently recruit him as their new singer, but they also talked him into doubling up as a drummer.

So who were the aces and who was the joker, then? The aces were brothers Jimmy Blevins (lead guitar) and Joe Blevins (rhythm guitar) as well as bassist Leon Simmons. Hal was both the joker and the guy who came up with the group’s new name. “I was always known as the joking kind of guy around the base,” he says. “And the ace part just seemed to fit.” Placing a high premium on showmanship, the group started packing the local beer joints in short order. “There weren’t many bands around that could play the variety that we did. We played rock ‘n’ roll, country, jazz, popular, and we put on funny shows,” remembers Hal. “We had a great crowd wherever we performed.”

Hal and Jimmy Blevins today. Jimmy currently plays in a band called Flashback; Joe passed away some time ago and Leon apparently quit playing after his stint in the band.

Hal wrote “Sleigh Bell Rock” and “Booze Party” as a one-two punch for Christmas and New Year’s. After playing the songs at a Salt Lake City nightclub called the Streamliner, they caught the ear of “Bashful” Bobby Wooten, who was then working as a disk jockey on country station KSOP (still in business and still country, btw) and who also ran his own small record label, GRC (General Recording Company). “He suggested we record the songs and so we did,” says Hal. Although “Sleigh Bell Rock” was able to muster up a smattering of local airplay upon its release in 1960, the flipside was a different story. “‘Booze Party’ didn’t get much play on the radio,” he says. “That was understandable because Utah is a Mormon state and they don’t believe in drinking.”

(“Booze Party,” incidentally, is chronologically the third of four notable songs I know of that use the “wine wine wine” refrain – Sticks McGhee’s “Drinkin’ Wine Spo-De-O-Dee” from 1949 is first, Floyd Dixon’s 1952 swing number “Wine Wine Wine” is second, and the Nightcaps’ own 1962 frat anthem “Wine Wine Wine” is fourth. These songs are different enough from each other for it not to really matter, but I do wonder if the Nightcaps were influenced at all by “Booze Party,” let alone the Dixon song. Hal had never heard of Sticks McGhee, Floyd Dixon or “Wine Wine Wine” before I asked him about it.)

Promo pic of Hal and his twin brother Jack, who toured and performed together until Jack’s passing in 1983

It was all a good laugh, and soon enough Three Aces and a Joker went their separate ways. Bobby Wooten, not long after releasing this 45, struck a nerve with Utah’s deer hunting legions with the single “Going Deer Hunting”/ “Deer Hunting Widow,” which never charted nationally, but nonetheless became his GRC label’s steadiest seller. He went on to make a name for himself as a popular radio personality during the 60s on Seattle country station KAYO, and he also wrote the liner notes for Buck Owens’s I’ve Got a Tiger By the Tail LP. He retired from radio in the seventies and passed away in 1998. As for Hal, he settled down in Northern Utah with his wife and kids and had no idea that his two songs, especially “Booze Party,” would be taking on a life of their own, showing up on numerous compilations and securing themselves beloved entry in many a rockabilly diehard’s personal Hall of Fame.

James Austin, VP of A&R at the major reissue label Rhino Records is one of these diehards. He’s actually the one who compiled and wrote the liner notes for the 80’s record on which I first heard “Sleigh Bell Rock.” He remains a huge fan of the 45, and I was recently fortunate enough to have a conversation with him about it. “They played with the go broke mentality we’ve come to love and respect about rock and roll,” says Austin. “ ‘Sleigh Bell Rock’ is as good as any rock and roll Christmas record ever made, but the B-side is especially worth taking note of,” he says. “For them to be singing about that subject in that manner at this place in time is pretty damned adventurous. You listen, and nothing seems illegal or reckless in their world, and this is the attitude that helped build the house of rock. And the fact is, all too many originators like them have gotten no recognition.”

Hal (second to left) and friends with guitar legend Bill Kirchen (far left) during a swing through SLC (L to R: Kirchen, Hal, Dan Weldon above Hal, Korene Greenwood, original Three Aces guitarist Jimmy Blevins, and Brad Wheeler; Greenwood currently leads her own group Korene & Company, and Weldon and Wheeler perform as a well-esteemed blues duo called the Legendary Porch Pounders)

Austin’s words say a lot about the record’s enduring appeal. As I mentioned, both titles appear regularly on compilations, many of which are semi-legal affairs that the compilers have never bothered to properly license. This, I confidently assume, happens because 1) the legal homework presents too many headaches for the compilers and their small labels, and 2) so many of the artists who brought these old one-offs into the world were either innocent of the fact that additional steps needed to be taken in order for them to get situated on a business level, or else they moved on and lost sight of their creations’ ongoing profit potential.

Hal’s a good illustration of this latter syndrome. “All these years went by and I never knew that other bands have recorded my songs,” he says. “I never received any royalties on either song. I would have thought I should be making a few bucks on some of those albums that have me doing the singing. Next year I’ll be 70 years old and if anything’s going to happen, I hope it’s soon. But I’ve never tried to find out anything.” Side by side with this sentiment is an undeniable sense of personal pride. “I understand through some of my musician friends that my songs are listed in the Rockabilly Hall of Fame,” he says. “I was thrilled to hear that.”

As for me, my ideal conception of Hal’s future is one in which he at least gets his performing rights registration and general business situation in order – something we’ve already been talking about. But it’s also one in which he gets rediscovered by the kinds of people who can present him to the kinds of appreciative audiences who are most certainly out there, and who can give him the kind of recognition he deserves. And also that he gets an album out.

Hal with Loose Change in 2006

On that note, if there’s any point I’d like to make clearest with this write up, it’s that Hal Schneider, aka Hal Holiday, is STILL WORKING as a viable performer. Never stopped, actually. For a long time, he had an act with his identical twin brother Jack, until he passed away in 1983. He continues to perform in the Ogden and Salt Lake areas, frequently with a local band of crack musicians called Loose Change. On top of that, he runs a yearly show called the Hal Holiday Revue, which promotes local talent, and he regularly volunteers as an entertainer at assisted living centers throughout the area. Hal is soldiering forth, in other words, as the kind of performer who can still win people over on his own merits and not simply through his key involvement with a classic record from the past. (I’ve recently heard through the grapevine that he’s done just that, on both counts, with Big Sandy and Los Straitjackets who recently swung through SLC and got a chance to hear him do his thing. Big Sandy’s group the Fly-Rite Boys, incidentally, recorded a cover of “Booze Party” in 1998). My hunch is that Hal’s rock and roll adventures are far from over, but whatever the future holds, Hal’s no longer just a joker – he’s also a king.

posted by Kim Simpson

The original one runs to 1:35 and appears on the official 1966 soundtrack album. The definitive version, which is sublimity itself and features Hancock on piano, runs to 8:15 and appears on Bobby Hutcherson’s Oblique album, recorded in 1967 and not released until 1980. In Japan.

Herbie Hancock – “Blow-Up – Main Title” (1966)

Herbie Hancock – “Theme from Blow-Up” (1967)

I think about this subject every year at this time and did so even before I had kids. Maybe it’s because books had so much do with how my fantasy impressions of Halloween, not to mention the entire autumn season, have taken shape. Anyway, here’s a spotlight on six of my favorites.

Nightmares: Poems to Trouble Your Sleep, by Jack Prelutsky, illustrated by Arnold Lobel (1976):

Prelutsky seems to have written a children’s book a day for the last several decades, but this one really stays with you. It’s not just a collection of poems about monsters, but also the terrible things they do to their victims, who are almost always children. Lobel’s Edward Gorey-esque black and white sketches are masterful, the most frightening one being “The Ghoul,” which depicts a bald, pointy-eared creature perched atop a jungle gym, eyes fixed on a schoolhouse as children inside are getting ready to leave. (“He slices their stomachs and bites their hearts,” Prelutsky writes, “and tears their flesh to shreds.”)

How Spider Saved Halloween, by Robert Kraus (1973):

Kraus, like Prelutsky, is another writer who sneezes out kids books by the score. But his “Spider” books stand out because he does the rather crude crayon drawings himself, and they’re great. Most Americans my age and younger probably remember this one with great fondness and can recall the three challenges Spider overcomes: 1) Finding a convincing costume; 2) Scaring off two bug bullies who have been out smashing pumpkins and spraying trick or treaters with shaving cream; and 3) winning the full friendship of a petty character named Fly.

The Headless Horseman Rides Tonight, by Jack Prelutsky, illustrated by Arnold Lobel (1980):

Fun-loving duo Jack and Arnold’s sequel to Nightmares isn’t quite as bloodthirsty but just as creepy. The standout here is “The Darkling Elves,” depicting a quorum of twelve tiny apostles of evil gazing down from a tree at a sweet and unsuspecting little girl reading a book.

The Witch Who Went Out for a Walk, by Margaret Hillert, illustrated by Krystyna Stasiak (1981):

In this book, we follow the travels of a green witch and her black cat who, strangely enough, have never seen owls, bats, jack-o-lanterns, or trees with faces on them before. Finally the witch decides to call it a night when the sight of trick or treaters finally freaks her out. Stasiak’s rich and colorful illustrations pay tribute to Eastern European naive art and make this one a must.

Granny Greenteeth and the Noise in the Night, by Kenn and Joanne Compton (1993):

In this story, a witch can’t read her book at night because of a strange noise under her bed. After failing to get help from a resident cat, broomstick, ghost, troll, goblin, bats, and bugaboo, all of whom prove to be whiny, excuse-making bums, she lets out a scream which finally scares them into action. The illustrations are all bug-eyed and funny, providing a lasting image of the quintessential scaredy cat.

Very Scary, by Tony Johnston, illustrated by Douglas Florian (1995):

This is another one featuring unusually gorgeous water colors that seem to capture the very mood of Halloween. The simple story’s good too: A number of nuisances slowly invade a nighttime pumpkin patch – owls, cats, crickets, children, and a real life witch. The kids find an enormous pumpkin, carve a face on it, and when they finally stick the candle in, it shrieks out a “boo,” scaring the pants off every last creature (including the witch, whose hair stands on end) and sending them all scurrying home, thus reaffirming what we’ve all learned elsewhere: The Great Pumpkin always gets the last laugh.

“This album combines two of the most fascinating and incredible achievements of modern technology: stereophonic sound and the high-powered racing car.” (liner notes)

This was one in a handful of real-life-sounds LPs that the jazz label Riverside put out in the late 50s/early 60s. I’m still on the lookout for Coney Island in Stereo, the one non-automobile-oriented release.

Side 1

Technical Inspection (movement from right to left): “The process by which each car is authorized to compete. Brakes, tires, fluid leaks, general running condition, etc., are checked. At Sebring (which is run under rules of the F.I.A.), such other items as headlights, working top, seat size and windshield are also checked.”

Slow Corner (movement from left to right): “A 90 degree right-hand turn. From top speed, drivers shift down through the gears to second for this tight corner, then shift back up for the next long straight.”

Side 2

The Esses (movement from left to right): “The difficult and dangerous bends where the incredible Ferraris and Jags and Porsches slam through the gears, sliding from one side of the road to the other, tires screaming, and zoom away.”

The Straight (movement from left to right): “Here the cars emit the loudest noise of full acceleration as they pass through all the gears. Note the different shifting points of the different cars.”

Folkways is all about keeping ancient recordings like this one available and viable. Frutiful, even.