Pickled Priest Mixtape: Our Favorite Songs of 1959
Picking singles from the early years of rock 'n' roll is a challenge because the genre was basically in kindergarten at the time, nobody quite sure what to make of it. Hence, we get some wild sounds, innocent pop, exotica, crooners, pop-jazz, and some killer R&B cuts in the bargain. Some of them are by the biggest names in music history, some are cult classics, some are one-hit wonders, some are timeless ballads, and others goofy relics from a time long past. It makes for a pretty amusing, and fast, listen. Most of these songs are super short so it won't take you long to rip through this one. Singles ruled back then so we're using the date the 45 was released in most cases and not album release dates (unless the song wasn't released as a single). We probably fucked that up so forgive any errors. And I guarantee you we missed a few obvious ones. This is harder than it looks, that's all I'll say. The songs are ranked 26 to 1 to add further complexity.
SIDE A
26 "Firecracker" | Martin Denny
If there was a Mixtape Hall of Fame (and I may yet create one, just give me time) Martin Denny would surely be in the inaugural class of inductees. His music, coined "exotica" after his 1957 album of the same name, is perhaps the greatest body of palate-cleansing lounge music ever created. Three grunge songs in a row, you say? Although that's never recommended, you can get yourself out of that flannel coated rut right quick with a single Martin Denny instrumental, which, on any given day may include bird calls, bongos, jungle sounds, vibes, bamboo sticks, and influences from all over the South Pacific and East Asia regions. Sometimes the best transition is no transition and never has a Martin Denny instrumental ever popped up on one of my mixtapes where it wasn't as refreshing as a Hawaiian breeze. "Firecracker" leans to the Orient for its sound thanks to an absolute vibes clinic put on by exotica luminary, Arthur Lyman.
25 "Satan is Real" | The Louvin Brothers
I've said this before and I'll say it again, despite being a non-believer, I do love a good gospel record. Anything sung with earnest passion is fine by me, content be, uh, damned. Which is fitting, because "Satan is Real" comes from an album of the same title and its main goal is to stress that Satan is indeed a thing and so is Hell, his uninsurable home. To stress this point, we find the Louvins standing in front of a cardboard cutout of Satan on the album cover (above), which I find delightfully ironic. Was the real Satan busy? Couldn't they just hire someone to dress up as Satan for the day or was that tempting fate? Either way, I'm sure the devil himself would've been thrilled to hear two guys in sailor suits acknowledge his existence. He's like Trump that way—me, me, me, they mentioned me! The song basically exists to house a mini-sermon about eternal damnation, smartly bookended by some appealing harmonizing between Ira and Charlie, their specialty. I will say if every sermon was this short maybe I wouldn't have left the church in the first place. Short and concise—how refreshing. They probably didn't intend for this to happen, but I actually find the song humorous. Like telling me something exists means I'm going to immediately accept that it does. The audacity! I guess we'll see who has the last laugh on that one. Satan may read this entry to me personally someday as I boil in a cesspool of human excrement.
24 "Dynamite" | Cliff Richard and the Shadows
Firecrackers? We can do you one better. How about some dynamite? The US had Elvis already, so we didn't really need Cliff Richard, but he is the third biggest selling artist in UK history for a reason—can 22-million British Cliff fans be wrong?—and there are some pretty great singles peppered throughout his catalog, particularly in the late-50s and early-60s (and a couple choice cuts from the 70s). Those singles don't capture quite the same raw sexuality of Elvis's early cuts, but he still had a proper coolness all his own that translated into some pretty memorable singles like "Dynamite," a personal favorite of mine. I love the short, heavy bassline that opens the first few seconds and rides underneath the rest of the song, Richard's breathless, Elvis-esque huff and puff at times, and some unexpected but welcome guitar riffage of the raw variety. Maybe not outright dynamite, but reasonably close.
23 "Goodbye Baby" | Jack Scott
Whether it's present day or the 1950s, one thing my mixtapes have in common is a love for a song that doesn't sound like all the others. Which brings us to Jack Scott, someone I knew jack shit about until I started down this retro path a few weeks ago. Born in Canada as Giovanni Domenico Scafone, Jr.—the name change a moderate to severe tragedy of cultural homogenization—he soon moved with his family to Michigan, where he discovered music and had a pretty successful run of hit singles after that. Better than being a henchman for the mob, I guess, which was stereotypically his only other alternative. Just prior to serving in the military (a la Elvis) in 1959, Scott released "Goodbye Baby," which is basically a kiss-off to a girl who has apparently done him wrong. Here, Jack out-'Bye Bye Bye's even NSYNC with his calm, laid-back mantra repeated just enough that it eventually takes on an almost therapeutic quality. I know if I was a clerk at the Heartbreak Hotel I'd prescribe this song to all my guests for some fast-acting relief.
22 "Sea Cruise" | Frankie Ford
How many one-hit wonders did the 50s kick out? Perhaps more than any decade before or since, but I haven't done the clinical research on that point. That said, your appreciation of Frankie Ford's* "Sea Cruise" depends solely on the joy you get from singing "OOO WEE / OO WEE, BABY!" over and over again, something I personally find gives me great joy, but you may not. At least give him some props for anticipating the music-themed cruise long before Kiss and their army set sail in 2011. Also dig that they added a full 10-seconds of ship leaving port sound effects at the beginning. Nice touch.
Note: Yes, another example of a guy with a great Italian name, born Vincent Francis Guzzo, Jr., who decided to Ellis Island the shit out of it to make him more appealing to American teenagers. This hurts, because it hits close to home. The Pickled Priest's birth name was none other than Pickolas Flavio Pristonelli III until we whored ourselves out to the lucrative blogosphere.
21 "Tallahassee Lassie" | Freddy Cannon
Bob Dylan it ain't, but in the 50's songwriting wasn't much more than a good hook and some attitude. Simply rhyming "Tallahassee" and "hi-fi chassis" (phonetically, "chassie") was pretty advanced stuff back in the early days of rock & roll. In truth, I like the song because I've always thought Tallahassee was one of the better city names in the U.S. of A. (right up there with Poughkeepsie, Sheboygan, and Chattanooga) and I just like the idea of a "lassie" from Tallahassee, who, thanks to the good fortune of a rhyming dictionary, will also surely be not only sassy, but also classy (although not brassy or gassy or a supporter of former Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie). I'd be whooping it up just like Freddy if I stumbled upon a girl with such qualities.
20 "A Big Hunk O' Love" | Elvis Presley
If reincarnation was really a thing and you could order from a "new life" menu, I might, in one of my lives, ask to come back as a member of the Jordanaires, Elvis's background singers. They've had some peach assignments over the years. Case in point, "A Big Hunk O' Love," Elvis's #1 single from 1959. I would love to chip in the "No No No" vocals peppered throughout the song (specifically 0:30, 1:06, and 1:47) and then call it a day. It had to be a blast to record, especially because this is prime 50's Elvis, all raw and young, backed by barrelhouse piano and raw guitar licks (Chet Atkins on rhythm guitar!) just like on those early Sun cuts (this song was recorded at RCA's famed Studio B in Nashville, the only song he recorded while an enlisted man). Sure, we could also come back as Elvis himself, but here at Pickled Priest we like to keep such requests grounded in reality.
19 "My Last Meal" | Jimmy Rogers
Death row humor is so hard to come by, but nobody did it better than Jimmy Rogers on "My Last Meal." Knowing he doesn't "have to go" until he has his final meal, and that "if they don't have it, they'll go out and get it," he proceeds to order the most ridiculous meal he can think of, knowing it will likely spare (or extend) his life while it's being procured. My favorite items on his menu of choice:
Two dinosaur eggs over-easy
Mosquito knees
A whole hippopotamus, well baked
Purple watermelon
Wavy gravy in a left hand dish
Rattlesnake hips
A female banana
And, right at the end, he yells, "Hey! Don't forget the hot sauce!" Finally, a reasonable request!
18 "Let's Jump the Broomstick" | Brenda Lee
Even though she was one of the most successful female artists of the 20th century, charting more hits in the 1960s than anyone other than the Beatles, Elvis, and Ray Charles, Brenda Lee isn't really a household name anymore. That said, she's in both the Country Music and Rock and Roll Halls of Fame and, at the time of her induction, the only woman to accomplish that feat. So her appearance here isn't a fluke. She infused every song she sang with youthful enthusiasm allowing her dynamic personality and distinctive vocals to burst through, and not surprisingly everybody fell in love with her for it. "Let's Jump the Broomstick," based on the tradition of a bride and groom jumping over a broomstick (laid on the ground) as a symbol of moving from unmarried to married, is one such track. Brenda—still fourteen years-old when she recorded it!—made what could be a really stupid song in most hands into a rollicking good time. It helped that she was from the South, where child brides weren't that uncommon, which doesn't make the song less creepy, just more understandable. Further research on the ritual of jumping the broomstick* indicates the practice was used initially for marriages of "questionable validity" and that tracks with the lyrics, which finds a young couple looking to marry despite family objections, "My father don't like it, my brother don't like it, my sister don't like it, my mother don't like it..." The key is that Brenda herself likes the idea and sells it over and over throughout the song.
*The ritual, per Wikipedia, was re-popularized when Roots aired on TV in the 1970s, when slaves wanted to marry (with the questionable validity driven by racism), but it has been used in other contexts as well, so call this cultural appropriation if you must, but I would tend to classify the intent of the song as being simply any marriage (especially to a 14 year-old girl) of which other don't approve.
17 "Beach Comber" | Jo Ann Campbell
Jo Ann Campbell, not one of the biggest artists of the 60s, not in the Country or Rock and Roll Halls of Fame, and not an owner of a Top 10 hit, still makes our list with her "Beach Comber" (sic) single that basically sounds like an endearing and inspired karaoke version of an existing 50s hit, but own it she does, adding extra syllables to words along the way, embellishing every moment with a little extra panache, and when all else fails, a well placed hoot or holler. There are countless singles from the 50s that have long been forgotten, and it pleases me to no end to give Jo Ann Campbell a little sunlight 60 years after her small spark faded away.
16 "I'll Be Satisfied" | Jackie Wilson
Man oh man, did Jackie Wilson have the chops back in the day. "I'll Be Satisfied" (written by Motown founder Berry Gordy) is a rigorous vocal workout, taking him through several registers, from deep lows to operatic highs and everywhere in between. The guy could do it all and he could sell a song like few others, without a doubt one of the greatest performers of his time, or any.
15 "Love Potion No. 9" | The Clovers
By the end of my year-end mixtape series, there very well could be two versions of "Love Potion No. 9" included in two different years. This, the original grittier version, by Washington D.C. R&B group the Clovers, is my favorite by just a hair because it has a little more groove to it. The Searchers, from Liverpool, took the Leiber/Stoller written track and made it a pop hit five years later in 1964. Also fantastic. Almost any way you slice this song, it's a total hoot. I'll stop there and not even mention the hair metal version from 1982 by Tygers of Pan Tang. Warning: Do not stream this song at all costs. Fuck, you're going to do it aren't you? What did I just say?
14 "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" | Buddy Holly
Prophetic? Unlikely, but the fact "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" was released 29 days before Buddy Holly's plane went down in Clear Lake, Iowa, killing all on board, does make you stop and think about fate and coincidence. The song is a cute little breakup song, penned by Paul Anka, with a "golly gee" here and a "oops-a-daisy" there and nobody called foul at such saccharine sentiments back then. In fact, it was charming. It makes me want to live in the 50s for a few weeks to experience that kind of innocence firsthand. Is the Delorean available? Perhaps the song most deserving of the overused term, "bittersweet."
SIDE B
13 "Only Sixteen" | Sam Cooke
As we get closer to our favorite song of 1959, the major talent starts to rise to the top. Here, allow us to luxuriate in Sam Cooke's voice for a few moments, a guy who could sing literally anything anywhere (from the Harlem Square Club to the Copa) and it would become a standard. You've probably heard this song a thousand times by now, but his tone is so sublime here that if you could bottle it somehow, you'd make a billion dollars. I doubt there was a more pure, natural singer ever than Sam Cooke. One of the few voices I could listen to on repeat for eternity.
12 "White Lightning" | George Jones
I've been on the receiving end of some home-brewed white lightning from deep in Louisiana and it won't just take paint off the wall, it'll take the wall off the wall, only the studs remaining. This early George Jones classic (his first #1 no less) gets it right. Forget all those country songs about cold beer and "everybody at the bar gettin' tipsy," you completely skip that stage when you're dealing with a tin cup full of "White Lightning." Backed by rollicking piano, a stand up bass, and galloping drums, this is the ultimate country drinking song.
11 "Shakin' All Over" | Johnny Kidd & The Pirates
Eyepatch appreciated, polka dot blouse not so much, but all is forgiven because nobody really quite knew what a rock band was supposed to look like in the 1950s, so gimmicks were often used to sell a band. Imagine that. Thank god we outgrew that trend (wink wink). "Shakin' All Over" is best known to Americans due to the Who's version on Live at Leeds (incendiary), but the original went to #1 in the UK for good reason. For 1959, this is a pretty wicked sounding rock song with biting guitar line, a raw vocal, killer drums, and fabulous pacing. I love how the payoff line is held back for a second to add some additional drama. No wonder it has gone on to be covered countless more times since.
10 "The Hippy Hippy Shake" | Chan Romero
Yes, the Beatles covered this at the BBC, but even their version doesn't quite capture the raw brilliance of Chan Romero's original. Feel free to disagree, but that's a hill I'm prepared to die on. Chan wrote and performed it at just 17 years of age and that youthful rebelliousness shows in his unbridled performance, a perfect example of the wild, untamed magic found during the early years of rock 'n' roll, where any band in a garage could achieve momentary greatness if the stars aligned properly.
09 "Woo Hoo" | The Rock-A-Teens
Thanks to Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill, the Rock-A-Teens' "Woo Hoo" made a comeback for a whole new generation when it soundtracked a bloody fight scene inside The House of Blue Leaves in the 2003 film. That version was done to great effect by Japan's 5.6.7.8s, but you'll have to rewind the tape 44 years way back to 1959 to get at the original, which is predictably spectacular, for all intents and purposes an "instrumental with words" as the old joke goes. Clocking in at a tight 2:06, the track still managed to include a magnificently raw 24-second drum solo, complete with cowbell, in its first half, and a wicked guitar turn in the last half. When totalled up, it has became a cult rockabilly classic that has lived on because it's so strangely addictive and simple—a song you can hum to yourself anywhere at anytime to pass the time.
08 "Beyond the Sea" | Bobby Darin
If there's a better old school nightclub song than this, not done by Sinatra, I'd like to hear it. This swinging number is so evocative of a time and place that it instantly sets a sophisticated atmosphere right from its opening notes. Add a smooth crooner like Bobby Darin and watch the ladies swoon with sheer delight. It's not rock & roll, per se, but we never claimed that limitation for this list, it just turned out that way most of the time. It's a song that makes you want to go back to a time where everybody wasn't wearing Air Jordans and backwards baseball caps when out on the town. A time where people had some class and suited up with a skinny tie and a fedora when they left the house for some entertainment.
07 "Peter Gunn" | Duane Eddy
The original Henry Mancini "Peter Gunn," also from 1959, is perhaps the GOAT among many versions of quite possibly the greatest TV theme song in history. It notably featured a rising star named Duane Eddy on guitar. Later that year, Eddy checked in with his own stripped-down take on the bombastic theme song, this time making his raw, menacing guitar the focal point. The song is amazing when pumped at loud volume, riding Eddy's trademarked guitar chug even when blistering horns eventually arrive to support him.
06 "Take Five" | Dave Brubeck Quartet
I've been keeping jazz out of most of these lists for continuity reasons, but Dave Brubeck's "Take Five" is more than jazz to me. It slowly became a worldwide phenomenon from its first release in 1959 and its subsequent re-release in 1961 and to this day it's the biggest selling jazz "single" in history. Written in quintuple time at 176 bpm (DJs listen up!), the song moves along briskly for the first couple minutes with Brubeck's understated piano and Paul Desmond's cool alto sax leading the way until drummer Joe Morello checks in with an absolutely preposterous two-plus-minute solo in a time signature most drummers wouldn't even bother trying. It's a total mad groove from there on out. It's no wonder it captured the attention of just about every person alive in the late-50s and early-60s. Mesmerizing!
05 "Shout Pts. 1 & 2" | The Isley Brothers
The greatest dance song of all-time? Discuss. You'd have to be a pretty good debater to convince me otherwise. Listening to it again, now, I had almost forgotten just how raw the vocals are, mainly because every time it's played people are all screaming along with it at top of their lungs. The song is a non-stop push and pull throughout, taking you through ecstatic highs and simmering lows only to turn up the burners for an epic sweat-soaked finale. God I miss two part songs, split up to get on the radio or fit on one side of a 45 RPM single. I wish we could return to those days. It gave songs some time to stretch out, room to build and release tension. If this song has worn out its welcome for you, I get it. But do you seriously want to be at the wedding without it on the late-night playlist? Do you want to be at a toga party that doesn't include it? I'll even take Otis Day & the Nights version from Animal House, it doesn't matter. But going back to the original is where it's really at. Like most of you, I have poured every last ounce of my energy into "Shout" on the dancefloor, letting things loose that shouldn't be loose, and making things looser that shouldn't have been loose in the first place, and I wish I could do it like I did it in my "prime" just one more time.
*No, the song itself did not include an exclamation point after Shout in the song's title even though it richly deserved one. That said, the album title, Shout!, did. Strange.
04 "My Baby Just Cares for Me" | Nina Simone
I reserve the word "jaunty" exclusively for this song. There's no other song that embodies the word quite like this Nina Simone cover of an old 1930's classic. Great lyrics, too, but with a twist. After singing about all the things her "baby" disregards in deference to her magnificence—car races, clothes, Liz Taylor, Lana Turner, "high tone" places, and, uh, Liberace's smile (didn't see that coming)—the final stanza asks "I wonder what's wrong with baby" as if the whole thing must be too good to be true. Perhaps it is.
03 "There Goes My Baby" | The Drifters
When I first stumbled upon the Drifters, I knew I had found another lifetime artist, one that I would return to time and time again forever. I'm sure you've had the same thing happen to you. Do we share a common denominator with the Drifters, perhaps? If not, maybe someone else fills that same spot for you. When I first heard "There Goes My Baby" I was taken by Ben E. King's glorious voice, the doo wop opening, the harmonies, the strings (a first for an R&B record), and its unique sound, which had the feel of a song recorded in a high school hallway or shower.
02 "Somethin' Else" | Eddie Cochran
Eddie Cochran's "Somethin' Else" revs like a roadster ready to sprint off the line, engine growling and wheels spinning. When I think of the early years of rock & roll, this is one of the songs I hear in my mind. It's about cars and girls, of course—what else was there to sing about? We all know a nice car is thee proven, sure-fire way to attract girls (at least in the mind of boys) and this whole song follows that story arc to the letter. Fantasize about girl. Fantasize about car that will help get girl. Get car. Get girl. Was it really that easy or was it somethin' else the girls were really looking for?
01 "What'd I Say Pts. 1 & 2" | Ray Charles
Picking my favorite song of 1959 was the easiest and most obvious decision I've made this year. Ray Charles' "What'd I Say"—Parts 1 & 2, of course!—-ran away with this spot because it simply doesn't sound anywhere close to anything else on the list in any respect. The musicianship is next level. The vocals untouchable. The groove unshakeable. The composition sheer brilliance. There was a reason his record label started titling his records The Genius of Ray Charles, The Genius After Hours, The Genius Sings the Blues, etc. a mere two years into his recording career. Surprise! He was a fucking genius right out the box.
_________________________________
See ya later. I'm gonna binge watch Happy Days for the rest of the weekend. Feel free to join me.
The Priest
Comments