5 Songs December 29, 2023
Some more pretty sweet records you could have heard on the radio today if only . . .
The Spaniels – “You Gave Me Peace of Mind” 1956 single available on The Vee-Jay Story: Celebrating 40 Years of Classic Hits 1953-1993. Doo wop was a weird genre, and a lot of its songs are among the strangest in pop history. I don’t gather “You Gave Me Peace of Mind” was a huge hit, but it’s a pretty cool one. Lead singer Pookie Hudson was a smooth tenor crooner, while the other four members of the group made harmonies that sounded like a big band horn section. Bass singer Gerald Gregory even had some of Ben Webster’s vibrato. This song at first listen is a lovely example of Hudson’s grasp of a simple melody and the group’s strong sympathetic wordless underscoring. But pay attention to the words, and ho boy! “As I stood and I looked at the sky / There I saw such a wondrous light / It reminded me of a star I had left / And he gave me, yes he gave me / He gave me peace of mind.” Genius.com insists Hudson sings “you” instead of “he” but not on the first verse. So, he’s an alien two decades before Ziggy Stardust, and quite possibly a gay one at that. “Then I fell down on my knees and I prayed / That the Lord would . . .” Well, here it’s ambiguous. At first I thought “end our evil ways,” which is one thing. Genius abandons all hope of sense and posits “send out even.” Either way, “And you threw your loving arms around me” comes next, which makes me wonder if this is the same or a different peace of mind from the first verse.” (Fun fact: all the videos on youTube are of a different take from the one on this box set, and all my speculation is erased because he really does sing “you” instead of “he.”)
Mary Wells – “I Don’t Want To Take A Chance” 1961 single available on many a Mary Wells compilation. This was the second single by Mary Wells, released a full year before Smokey Robinson started giving her songs and she became the first superstar on the Motown label (though her stardom ended after only two or three years). But this record was co-written by label honcho Berry Gordy and William “Mickey” Stevenson (a name that’s on the writing credits of more great songs than you probably realize). The situation in the song is simple – Wells has been hurt in love before, and she’s afraid to dive in with another person, even though it’s clear they each want the other. The Funk Brothers build up a hard-driving rhythm, swirling strings are added, and Wells’ vocal is as overdriven as the instruments, producing a record that must have exploded out of transistor radios when it was new. It’s not as sophisticated as “My Guy” would be, but it’s impossible to resist once you let it get into your ears.
Bert Jansch – “She Moved Through the Fair” 1998 from Toy Balloon. This traditional Irish folk song has a mysterious and haunting quality that shines through every version I’ve heard. Jansch was one of the first major English folk guitarists in the early 60s, then was in the folk supergroup Pentangle, and carried on an ever-changing career until he died in 2011. Always, though, his impeccable finger picking on acoustic guitar was at the center of his recordings. His touch, his graceful gliding across notes, his exquisite tone – it’s all so very clear on this mature recording. I’m a little less enamored of him as a singer – he kind of mumbles – but he gets the point across as he tells of his fiancée who apparently leaves him shortly before the wedding, who is seen moving from a distance at the fair, and who seems to return to him as a ghost in his bedroom. You really can’t beat the folk songs from those islands.
Johnny Winter – “Tell the Truth” recorded 1969 released 2019 on Woodstock Sunday August 17, 1969. Winter had two albums under his belt by the time he got to Woodstock, but I suspect he was much less well known than most of the acts on the bill. I don’t know why his performance didn’t make the cut for the film or the soundtrack album, but it’s at least as torrid as that of Ten Years After, and probably a lot deeper. This version of the Ray Charles song is taken at a fast clip, with Johnny and his brother Edgar each getting in plenty of solo time on guitar and organ respectively. Like many live performances in 1969, the song is stretched to twice its sensible limit with some excessive jamming on the back half. But if you fade down at about the 3:16 second mark, you’ll have heard one tight blues number, with Johnny’s growling vocals and what I assume is Edgar scatting along with the organ part. Johnny’s first guitar solo is a model of blues concision and expression. At the time, Johnny Winter could stand toe to toe with any white blues player you could name.
Clarence Williams – “Mama Stayed Out” 1929 single available on multiple compilations. Clarence Williams was a very successful figure in 1920s jazz circles, even if he’s not extremely well known any more. Perhaps that was because, while he played piano on many records, he was not a flashy soloist. Instead, he was a composer and band leader who made quite a few recordings, including the original of his own song “West End Blues,” which Louis Armstrong later turned into a masterpiece. This particular cut features four members of what he billed the Barrel House Five – Arville Harris on clarinet, Ed Allen on cornet, Williams on piano, and Floyd Casey on washboard. It’s a slow, mournful number, with Allen playing the melody and Harris winding behind him. first Harris and then Allen deliver oodles of sadness with their chorus each of improvisation (Harris offers counterpoint during Allen’s solo). Then Allen sounds even sadder as he intones the tale of his wife staying out all night long before he gives us one more chorus on cornet. We have here a perfect example of solid, workmanlike, yet emotionally resonant late 20s jazz.