Well, we might have a contender for the most alarming song yet? It's clearly not intentional, but at this point, I'm not sure how much that matters. Safeguarding concerns, ahoy!
Go Away Little Girl - Mark Wynter (peaked at Number 6)
Just about every line of this is a worse red flag than the last. Everything about it is unfortunate. Go away, little girl, Mark sings, which is already kind of patronising. But that's only the start. Go away little girl, he continues, I'm not supposed to be alone with you. Uh... Mark? Why are you not allowed to be around this girl? Is there something we need to know? Just how little is she? Oh I know that your lips are sweet / But our lips must never meet, he sings, and I'm about to call the police on him, alarm bells ringing. And then, the line that's supposed to rescue this, the one about how I belong to someone else and not to you. It's forbidden because Mark's taken, guys. Yup, there's genuinelynothing else going on here, despite how incredibly sketchy it all sounds. Doesn't feel any better when you get lines about how when you're near me like this, you're much too hard to resist, or lines asking her to go away little girl, before I beg you to stay. Ick. Ick ick ick. Romantic, in theory. Terrifying, in practice. I know 1962 was a different time, but did nobody notice how incredibly creepy this whole song sounds?!
Apparently not, because it's been a hit on no fewer than four occasions. Originally by Gerry Goffin and Carole King - tick that off on your early 1960s bingo card - it a hit for Bobby Vee in 1962, but only hit the US top 20 a year later with Steve Lawrence. Mark Wynter's British cover followed, the same year, and further versions by an American group called the Happenings and a 1971 version by Donny Osmond all saw some success. Which is staggering to me, because, it gets just a viscerally negative reaction from me - and people were still people back in 1963, I refuse to believe that attitudes could have been that different. I can only assume it got a pass because it's clearly about Mark trying actively to resist doing anything with this young lady? Which still doesn't make his obvious attraction to her any less creepy, but it does at least seem like he's got a bit of a moral compass about it? It's a slim thing, but it's the only positive I can get out of this.
I will say, though, that Mark's delivery, all breathy and moaning slightly, really works against him, in this case. It makes him sound desperate and kind of sleazy, even as he claims not to want to kiss this girl. Combine with the slow, crooning pace and you've got something that's really, properly queasy, especially once the backing singers start repeating "little girl" quietly in the background. Soupy, syrupy and really unsettling.
Like I Do - Maureen Evans (3)
And from one American cover to another. Thankfully, this one, a cover of a song originally by Nancy Sinatra, is much less creepy. Instead, Maureen brings us a zippy and fairly catchy number based on a classical piece, Dance of the Hours by Amilcare Ponchielli. I actually have played a version of this tune arranged for recorder, so it felt immediately very familiar to me. It's originally from an opera, La Gioconda, and is supposed to represent, somewhat allegorically, the procession of hours and the alternation of light and darkness through the course of a day. All this gives it a sort of clockwork precision and poised, stop-start motion that feels very distinctive. It was also used, notably, in Disney's Fantasia - it's a fairly well-known tune that people would have known. And this kind of weaving of classical tunes into pop music is something I'm a real sucker for. It's like a fun little Easter egg, plus it usually leads to some pretty cool music. I mean, there's a reason classical tunes have been preserved, right? They've stood the test of time, their melodic material is generally pretty solid.
Not that any of that matters, unless you've got some solid lyrical ideas. And thankfully, I do quite like the lyrics here, too. You see, in this song, Maureen is singing to a partner about a rival, telling them about how She may kiss you like I do / She may hold you like I do / But she'll never, never, never / She will never, never love you like I do. Which is simple but effective, and I love just how dismissive Maureen is, pointing out how this mystery rival isn't serious in her pursuit of Maureen's love. She may sigh, you may fall / Then she'll never be at home when you call. I think the implication here might even be that the rival is out with other lovers?
I don't know, but that's kind of the beauty of it - it's simple and sparse enough in its detail that you end up filling the blanks in yourself, inventing a story that's much richer and more interesting than anything the song might have said. Is it a story of Maureen warning her lover not to be lured away by another woman? Has her lover already got a woman on the side, and this is Maureen telling them how inferior their side-piece is? Or is the situation flipped, and Maureen's not together with the person she's singing to at all? Is is a song about unrequited love and Maureen's jealousy of the girl her love is actually with? There are a bunch of different situations this song could be describing, and I had a lot of fun thinking up new interpretations and scenarios for it.
I think it also helps that the song just sounds good. There's the Dance of the Hours quotation, like I mentioned at the start, but that's just part of it. You've also got this interesting "ding" sound periodically, a rather fun bass line, some subtle but quite interesting harmonies from the backing singers, some folksy da-da-da-da bits on the intro. It all adds together to make a song that feels varied, that has quite a lot going on. Plus, I really like Maureen's voice. We've not heard from her before, but she was a Welsh singer, who got her start singing in Welsh resort towns like Llandudno. She's got this lovely, warm voice, and really manages to sell it all, I rate her.
I'm not going to pretend like it was difficult to decide which of those two I preferred. One was quite a good pop song. The other made me feel almost physically uncomfortable, and made Mark sound like he ought to be put onto some sort of watchlist. I know it wasn't intended to be creepy. But intentions only get you so far when you've got lines about how I'm not supposed to be alone with you. Yikes, Mark. Yikes.
Okay, I'm seeing we've got not one but two unfamiliar names, this week - I feel like that's pretty rare, nowadays, and I do always quite enjoy it. Feels like a real roll of the dice!
Venus in Blue Jeans - Mark Wynter (4)
I will say, I like the title of this one. I can't really explain why, but the phrase "Venus in blue jeans" feels so evocative, to me. It fits, in a song that works by comparing Marks' beloved to various works of art, fairy tale characters and/or historical wonders, with a modern, fashionable update. She's Venus in blue jeans, Mona Lisa with a ponytail. We then get a bit less specific, but she's still the Cinderella I adore, and my special angel, too / A fairy tale come true. It's cute, if a bit much, especially when Mark decides to really hammer it home, with the clunker of a bit about how they say there's seven wonders in the world / But what they say is out of date / There's no more seven wonders in the world / I just met number eight. Which is fine, but you can tell exactly where the lines are going, as soon as Mark starts them. And really, putting your girl up there with, like, the Pyramids feels like a mistake. I mean, when you're calling your crush a teenage goddess from above, you're just setting her up to disappoint.
That all said, most of it does feel solidly written, the "wonders of the world" line aside. This is well crafted pop, and I'm not hugely surprised to learn that it was a Brill Building original, penned by one Jack Keller and Howard Greenfield, who's probably in competition with Goffin and King for most prolific songwriter we've met so far. He was inspired, apparently, by songs like Nat King Cole's Mona Lisa and Frankie Avalon's Venus. The song was then given originally to Jimmy Clanton, but not before Neil Sedaka consulted a bit on it. Carole King helped arrange the brass and strings for it, Gerry Goffin added the trumpet you hear in the middle, and the Cookies provided the backing vocals. You may not recognise the latter group, but they have had a brief starring role - they were the band who put Little Eva, of Locomotion fame, in touch with King and Goffin, and got her a babysitting job with the couple. So yeah, this song is possibly the most Brill Building song, possible. It's got lots of orchestration, including chimes, strings, some pretty backing vocals. It's deliberately teenaged, in its concerns. And it's just some soft, pleasant, two-minutes-and-done pop music.
I should note at this point that I'm not listening to the original, but rather a cover by Mark Wynter. Who's Mark Wynter? Honestly, he doesn't seem to be a hugely prolific or well known artist. He was a Brit, born Terry Lewis. Afraid - possibly prudently - that this might get him mixed up with Jerry Lee Lewis, he changed it to the much more glam Mark Wynter and went on to become a bit of a teen idol, known mostly for this, plus another cover, this time of a Bobby Vee hit, which we are going to get to. Aside from that, though, there doesn't seem to be much notable about him. He tried out for Eurovision in 1961, but lost out to the Allisons. That's the kind of calibre of star we're talking about, here. He also had a fabulously huge quiff, by the look of the pictures I can find of him. But other than that, I've very little to say about Mark. He does a passable if slightly bland job, here, performing the song perfectly adequately, albeit without any great passion. It's fine. He's fine. On to the next, please.
Let's Dance - Chris Montez (2)
Okay, this is more like it! This is an old-school rock and roll stomper, and it grabs you immediately, with a spoken one, two, a-one, two, three and a pounding, insistent drumbeat vaguely reminiscent of the war drums and chanting from Running Bear, all the way back in 1959. And then we get Chris singing, with these little choppy bits of organ noise, fragments of the melody we're about to be treated to, like it's teasing you. As intros go, it's ideal - it makes you sit up and listen, and it doesn't hang around before the main tune gets going, with bass, organ, faster drumming. It's pretty great.
The main tune here's also catchy, which helps. It kind of makes me think of the riff from Elton John's Crocodile Rock. Which I'm sure isn't a mistake, seeing as how that a song that's all about rock and roll, and nostalgia for the era, in general. Which makes this a fitting reference, not only as a bona fide rock and roll song, but also as a song that's literally about the experience of going out and dancing. It's framed as Chris asking his love out for a dance. And he's honestly pretty smooth about it, asking them hey baby, won't you take a chance? / Say that you'll let me have this dance. We even get some different dance fads name-dropped. We'll do the twist, the stomp, the mashed potato too, he sings, Any old dance that you wanna do. Which I think is kind of cute - Chris doesn't care what dance he ends up doing, as long as he's doing it with the person he loves. There's something very innocent and sweet about it, in the giddy way he tells them that you thrill me so, and hopes that baby, if you're all alone / Maybe you'll let me walk you home. Which is adorable, genuinely very winning.
And in all this, there's a coolness and a confidence to the song, too. Chris might be all tentative, asking his love politely if they'd let him dance, if it would be alright if he walked them home. But there's something in the slightly deadpan tone of voice throughout, the cool, offhand way he almost slurs the let's dance, that gives you the sense that he's not getting too hung up or nervous about it all. We're not about teenage fumbling and insecurity, here. Chris is here to have a good time dancing, and maybe he'll flirt a bit, and either way, a fun time will be had by all.
And all this fun is rammed home by a track that's just exciting to listen to. I think the best bit has to be a tie between the absolutely blistering organ solo in the middle, or possibly the start of the verses, where the instruments drop away, leaving just Chris singing over the thumping drums from the intro. All of which gives a good sense of excitement, and does make you want to dance. It's very stompy, not subtle at all, and I love it.
(I've also noticed that there are covers of this song by both Slade and by Status Quo, and man, I can imagine both of those groups absolutely smashing it out of the park - I might have to go give them a listen, too!)
The Swiss Maid - Del Shannon (2)
And then, to round off, Del Shannon, who I've quite enjoyed, historically. I hit play on a Del Shannon song, and I know what I expect. I'm hoping for clavioline, falsetto, and, crucially, that trademark Del Shannon songwriting, glee and spite and heartbreak and petty drama, all mixed together into a heady, rock and roll brew. They're high expectations, but Del's been nothing but consistent so far, I'm sure it'll be fine.
And then this happens. The Swiss Maid, compared to everything else I've heard from Del is... well, it's anomalous, for sure. I won't say it's completely out of left-field. But it's definitely weird. For one, it's a cover, and not even a rock and roll cover. The Swiss Maid was originally written by Roger Miller, a country artist I best know for the song King of the Road, and for doing the music from Disney's Robin Hood. So that's unexpected. And then we've lost the clavioline and most of the rock and roll trappings. Plus, we've barely got any falsetto, either. And what there is? It's in the form of yodelling. Ugh. I thought we'd got past the yodelling phase. But no, between this and Frank Ifield, we seem to be entering into a bold, new, Alpine era. Joy of joys.
I don't think it helps that the song's kind of boring, too, musically, but also lyrically. I mean, it's about a Swiss maid pining away in her valley. And that's literally it. One time, a long time ago / On a mountain in Switzerland / There lived a fair young maiden / Lovely but lonely. She tells her dad this, and he replies that some day we'll go / Down to the village in the valley / There you'll meet a nice young man, / He'll ask for your hand / And then you'll be happy. Except... this doesn't happen? We learn that every day she got unhappier and lonelier, and pined away, and no love came. This, out of anything that's going on here, is the most Del Shannon-ish part of the song, the drama and slightly unsettling note of her just pining away her life miserably, with him noting, morbidly, that some say the maiden's dream / Never came true / She never got to go to the valley, / If she did or not, / I really don't know. Which would be suitably savage and dramatic, if the song didn't then take a turn back towards the sentimental, with a note that I'd rather think she found her love / Wouldn't you rather think she did find love? Which... okay, nice, I guess. Boring, but nice, in an abstract way. There's no lesson to be learnt, no real life situation you can really, concretely relate her situation to, nothing. At least if she'd ended the song lonely, it could be a song about how love doesn't always work out, or about how dreams don't always come to something. That would make for a depressing song, sure, but I think Del could pull it off. This? It's so nothingy. The more I listen, the less I like it. Again, ugh.
I seriously hope the yodelling isn't about to become a trend. I suspect it is, but, like Del's Swiss maid, I live in hope. Not least because among the meh songwriting and the Swiss lameness, you've also got songs like my favourite for this week, a genuinely cool track that involved no yodelling whatsoever. Thank the heavens.
I only have one, a pretty bad deformity one, and I can't even guarantee it's him. It's always been labeled as such, but from the angle and grainy quality I can't really tell. Enjoy...
For those missing the vibes from Deja In Jamaica 2017 – Here’s the set recorded from the All White Beach Party @The Riu Ocho Rios. Featuring DJ Stamma, DJ Dlux & Mark Wynter.
