Hello, friends. This summer has been a mixture of the sublime and the ridiculous, the best of times and the worst of times, with little middle ground. I intended to keep blogging from the road as I traveled, but I was forced to spend far too much of my non-driving time doing work for an employer who doesn’t appreciate me enough to pay me for that work. I did get to do what I wanted to do, which was travel to as many Famous Dave’s barbeque restaurants as I could, and my efforts there seem to have earned me a year of free food. That’s the best/sublime part. The ridiculous/worst part—well, would you do two hundred extra hours of professional work, even if it’s spread over the course of an entire year, for nothing? That’s what I was supposed to do. And I was supposed to do a lot of it in the summer, when I am also expected to be gearing up for another year of teaching.
And so, the only things that could get me onto the blog this summer were the death of a pop icon and the arrival of Vinyl Record Day.
I want to talk about a feature of vinyl records that you simply can’t reproduce with a digital file, at least not without a bunch of software. In the days of record players, the act I’m going to describe was easy to undertake and loads of fun.
I’m talking about playing a song at the wrong speed.
I was very small when I acquired my first 78 rpm records, and I learned by accident that playing them at LP speed created deep rumbling sounds. To my young ears, the ponderous, roaring noises resembled what the world must have sounded like in the time of dinosaurs. Singing transformed itself into roars of rage, and drums became the earth-shaking thuds of huge dinosaur feet slamming into the earth.
Moving in the opposite direction, my 16 2/3 rpm talking-book records, played at 78, made sounds like very small, energetic animals. I’m glad I wasn’t using headphones when I was five, or I might have scrambled my brain.
I’m not sure I would have thought to talk about this aspect of vinyl if I hadn’t spoken recently with whiteray about something I did by accident a couple of years ago. At that time, I acquired a 45 of “Are You Ready?” by Pacific Gas & Electric, one of the late-night WLS hits from the summer of 1970, when I used music to distract me from the many issues I would otherwise have been pondering.
When I slapped that 45 on my turntable, it started playing at 33 1/3 rpm. I smiled to myself and let it run through the very slow intro. And then, when the song slid into its groove, magic occurred.
The backing track, played at normal speed, is pretty solid. But when it slowed to 74% of its regular speed, the guitar, bass and drums sounded like a raunchy slow blues that opened up the track to serve as the underpinning for any new melody and lyrics you might want to lay over it. Have a listen, and feel free to write a song around the riff.
And that, folks, is something you’ve never been able to do with a mere CD player and a shiny disc. When CD players first came out in 1983, someone, and I think it was Yamaha, made a CD player with a pitch control. That feature soon disappeared, though some players now offer pitch control again. However, I doubt that you can drop the pitch of a CD enough to create the effect of flipping the speed of a turntable from 45 to 33.
The song links below do what I described above. If you’re a product of the CD generation and you’ve never fiddled with the speed on a turntable, now you don’t have to—unless you want to. I hope you enjoy this glimpse at what five-year-old audio engineers used to do.
This is one of the many reasons why vinyl should never be allowed to disappear from the face of the earth.
It just occurred to me for the first time to wonder why my parents never asked me why I was playing my records at an ultra-slow speed. If I ever come up with an answer, I’ll let you know.
Diamonds, The Very Slow Stroll
Sterling Holloway, Mother Goose on Speed
Pacific Gas & Electric, Are You Ready to Use This Groove?
Dolly Parton, Here You Come Again, But More Slowly
Showing posts with label Diamonds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diamonds. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Friday, January 4, 2008
Mexico!
(Versión en español: http://granfusion.blogspot.com/)
Life often provides juxtapositions that would ring false in fiction. One such coincidence from my life has to do with diamonds and dust, and it started with the flip side of a very successful 45.
Among my obscure 45s were a few genuine huge hits. Those records predated my Uncle Tom’s relentless purchases of cutout 45s, twenty for a dollar. As I said last time, “The Gypsy Rover” by the Highwaymen was one 45 that sold well and was Ground to Dust by me on my little record player. Another GTD 45 was “The Stroll” by the Diamonds.
The story of “The Stroll” goes as follows: Philadelphia kids appearing on American Bandstand started doing a new line dance to “C.C. Rider” by Chuck Willis. Dick Clark, always with an eye for the Next Big Thing, had something to do with nudging Clyde Otis and Nancy Lee into writing a song named after the dance. Clyde Otis worked for Mercury Records, the Diamonds’ label, and the collaboration (with Otis as producer) jumped onto the Billboard charts on December 30, 1957, crossing the Top 40 threshold on January 6, 1958 and peaking at #4.
Clyde Otis did A&R work for Mercury, and his biggest contribution to the label’s legacy was his long association with Brook Benton, both as songwriter and producer. Nancy Lee registered 22 other titles with BMI, but no other composition approached the success of “The Stroll.” Nancy was a minor when she co-wrote the song, and her mother had to sign as her guardian. You can see the songwriters’ contract for “The Stroll” here: http://www.thejukejoint.com/strolsonwrit.html
In case you are way too young to have heard of the Diamonds, here’s a bit on them. David Somerville worked for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) in Toronto in the early 1950s. Before a TV broadcast he met the Diamonds: Stan Fisher (lead), Ted Kowalski (tenor), Phil Levitt (baritone) and Bill Reed (bass). Somerville liked their sound and became their manager. When Stan Fisher decided before a Christmas performance that he needed to study for a university exam, Somerville took the lead, and the group was a hit. The Fisher-less Diamonds signed with Mercury Records after a brief stint with Coral, and they were on their way to fifteen Top 40 hits.
Shortly after they recorded “The Stroll,” the members started to leave the group, with Somerville departing last in 1961. From everything I can find on the subject, the original four sang “The Stroll” and its B side, “Land of Beauty,” which is the actual subject of this post.
The single, Mercury 71242, came into my possession before I turned three years old. I knew which Mercury 45 (of several I owned) was “The Stroll,” and I dug the sax and the twelve-bar blues. The scan of the 45 shows how much love that song got from me.
As much as I enjoyed “The Stroll,” I started playing the flip once the hit side was Ground to Dust. That song, “Land of Beauty,” was written by George Stone, whose other works include some Hawaiian-themed songs. “Land of Beauty,” however, refers to Mexico, which is described as a “land of beauty where gardenias grow.” It’s a classic example of what I’ll call Mexploitation, the use of idealized or patronizing Mexican themes to sell records. This song is not too bad as such things go, especially compared to such odious works as Pat Boone’s “Speedy Gonzales.”
The orchestra on this side was led by David Carroll, born Nook Schrier in Chicago in 1913. Carroll had a couple of hits on his own, including the #8 hit “Melody of Love” in 1955. He conducted hits for Patti Page and other Mercury artists as well.
“Land of Beauty” mentions crossing the border at Calexico, the California twin city of Mexicali, the capital of Baja California Norte. References to a young caballero, siestas, the Rio Grande, a sombrero, a fiesta, dust and drifting sands intrigued me when I was three and provided me with a positive if clichéd image of this place called Mexico.
And therein lies the seed of the odd juxtaposition in my life. After a couple of years of studying Spanish in high school, I traveled to Mexico to study as an exchange student. (Thank you, AATSP!) On the flight from Chicago to Mexico City in June, 1979, what song played itself over and over in my mind? “Land of Beauty.” I never saw a real Mexican wearing the type of sombrero George Stone mentioned in his song, but I was quite the young caballero, I took plenty of siestas, and I was a hit at fiestas. I wound up traveling to Mexico (always spending most of the trip in my host family’s city, Colima) a dozen times.
But after all that long-gone experience with Mexico, I still have this song. As of 2006 it appears on the Diamonds compilation Rare Gems, Volume One, released on SnailWorx. Be sure to buy this CD of Diamonds rarities to complete your collection. If you need just a few tracks, you can find them on Rhapsody. Enjoy the song!
This post owes a debt to Wikipedia, mostly for confirming things I already knew. Chart info came from the Joel Whitburn books, as it always will.
Next time, I’ll look at another Mercury single my parents owned. See you Wednesday!
The Diamonds, “Land of Beauty” mp3
My label, "Land of Beauty"
My label, "The Stroll"
Newer 45, "Land of Beauty"
Life often provides juxtapositions that would ring false in fiction. One such coincidence from my life has to do with diamonds and dust, and it started with the flip side of a very successful 45.
Among my obscure 45s were a few genuine huge hits. Those records predated my Uncle Tom’s relentless purchases of cutout 45s, twenty for a dollar. As I said last time, “The Gypsy Rover” by the Highwaymen was one 45 that sold well and was Ground to Dust by me on my little record player. Another GTD 45 was “The Stroll” by the Diamonds.
The story of “The Stroll” goes as follows: Philadelphia kids appearing on American Bandstand started doing a new line dance to “C.C. Rider” by Chuck Willis. Dick Clark, always with an eye for the Next Big Thing, had something to do with nudging Clyde Otis and Nancy Lee into writing a song named after the dance. Clyde Otis worked for Mercury Records, the Diamonds’ label, and the collaboration (with Otis as producer) jumped onto the Billboard charts on December 30, 1957, crossing the Top 40 threshold on January 6, 1958 and peaking at #4.
Clyde Otis did A&R work for Mercury, and his biggest contribution to the label’s legacy was his long association with Brook Benton, both as songwriter and producer. Nancy Lee registered 22 other titles with BMI, but no other composition approached the success of “The Stroll.” Nancy was a minor when she co-wrote the song, and her mother had to sign as her guardian. You can see the songwriters’ contract for “The Stroll” here: http://www.thejukejoint.com/strolsonwrit.html
In case you are way too young to have heard of the Diamonds, here’s a bit on them. David Somerville worked for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) in Toronto in the early 1950s. Before a TV broadcast he met the Diamonds: Stan Fisher (lead), Ted Kowalski (tenor), Phil Levitt (baritone) and Bill Reed (bass). Somerville liked their sound and became their manager. When Stan Fisher decided before a Christmas performance that he needed to study for a university exam, Somerville took the lead, and the group was a hit. The Fisher-less Diamonds signed with Mercury Records after a brief stint with Coral, and they were on their way to fifteen Top 40 hits.
Shortly after they recorded “The Stroll,” the members started to leave the group, with Somerville departing last in 1961. From everything I can find on the subject, the original four sang “The Stroll” and its B side, “Land of Beauty,” which is the actual subject of this post.
The single, Mercury 71242, came into my possession before I turned three years old. I knew which Mercury 45 (of several I owned) was “The Stroll,” and I dug the sax and the twelve-bar blues. The scan of the 45 shows how much love that song got from me.
As much as I enjoyed “The Stroll,” I started playing the flip once the hit side was Ground to Dust. That song, “Land of Beauty,” was written by George Stone, whose other works include some Hawaiian-themed songs. “Land of Beauty,” however, refers to Mexico, which is described as a “land of beauty where gardenias grow.” It’s a classic example of what I’ll call Mexploitation, the use of idealized or patronizing Mexican themes to sell records. This song is not too bad as such things go, especially compared to such odious works as Pat Boone’s “Speedy Gonzales.”
The orchestra on this side was led by David Carroll, born Nook Schrier in Chicago in 1913. Carroll had a couple of hits on his own, including the #8 hit “Melody of Love” in 1955. He conducted hits for Patti Page and other Mercury artists as well.
“Land of Beauty” mentions crossing the border at Calexico, the California twin city of Mexicali, the capital of Baja California Norte. References to a young caballero, siestas, the Rio Grande, a sombrero, a fiesta, dust and drifting sands intrigued me when I was three and provided me with a positive if clichéd image of this place called Mexico.
And therein lies the seed of the odd juxtaposition in my life. After a couple of years of studying Spanish in high school, I traveled to Mexico to study as an exchange student. (Thank you, AATSP!) On the flight from Chicago to Mexico City in June, 1979, what song played itself over and over in my mind? “Land of Beauty.” I never saw a real Mexican wearing the type of sombrero George Stone mentioned in his song, but I was quite the young caballero, I took plenty of siestas, and I was a hit at fiestas. I wound up traveling to Mexico (always spending most of the trip in my host family’s city, Colima) a dozen times.
But after all that long-gone experience with Mexico, I still have this song. As of 2006 it appears on the Diamonds compilation Rare Gems, Volume One, released on SnailWorx. Be sure to buy this CD of Diamonds rarities to complete your collection. If you need just a few tracks, you can find them on Rhapsody. Enjoy the song!
This post owes a debt to Wikipedia, mostly for confirming things I already knew. Chart info came from the Joel Whitburn books, as it always will.
Next time, I’ll look at another Mercury single my parents owned. See you Wednesday!
The Diamonds, “Land of Beauty” mp3
My label, "Land of Beauty"
My label, "The Stroll"
Newer 45, "Land of Beauty"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
