SHG: The Lovin' Spoonful: "Daydream"

The Lovin’ Spoonful: “Daydream”
Entered the chart on: 3/12/66
Peaked on: 4/9/66
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “(You’re My) Soul & Inspiration” by the Righteous Brothers

The Lovin’ Spoonful get my vote as one of the more underrated 60s “classic rock” acts. Their rootsy sound was sort of the lost, missing link between the Young Rascals and Creedence Clearwater Revival. And I rather prefer them to either of the aforementioned (though I like the Rascals fine, and rather regret that I won’t be reviewing any of their tunes). Unfortunately, in these “90% of acts from the past are reduced to one-hit wonder status” days of oldies radio programming, “Summer in the City” is the only tune of theirs that seems to get any airplay these days.

Not that it’s a bad song, but they have a lot more to recommend than just that. I imagine it gets a lot of love because it’s their “edgiest” song. In general, they were a bit laid-back and good-natured, which I guess doesn’t play as well in a world gone hard and cynical. I, for one, have a soft spot for this element of their sound, fondly remembering my mom’s copy of “Nashville Cats*.”

So...clearly these guys need a second appraisal. Let’s examine the first (of two) of the songs that brought them here to Second Hand Goods:



Wow, talk about stripped-down! All you hear at first accompanying John Sebastian’s voice is a banjo-sounding guitar. Eventually we get a full band of sorts, with some light, very legato guitar injections, saloon piano and bass. And is it my imagination, or are there no drums on this track? All I’m hearing are spoons! So that’s where Split Enz got it from!

Despite the country-fied sound, lyrically this comes across as very suburban. A song about the simple domestic pleasures of a day off from work, with his best lady. “Bundle of joy” suggests that she’s just given birth, too...or maybe that’s his pet name for her. In any case, in spite of the late winter release date, this conjures up images of lazy summer afternoons, sipping a cold drink while swinging in a hammock with one of your feet dangling over the side.

Really not much more to say about this. A modest pleasure, but one I sure wouldn’t want to be without.

Rating: 5

*on the Kama Sutra label, fact fans. I admired the label design, and because my age was still in single digits, the “suggestive” nature of the label’s name flew right over my innocent head. Incidentally, one of the first records I ever owned, which I’ll be reviewing some time in the future, was also released on Kama Sutra. I’ll let you ponder what that might be.

SHG: Rolling Stones: 19th Nervous Breakdown

The Rolling Stones: “19th Nervous Breakdown”
Entered the chart on: 3/5/66
Peaked on: 3/19/66
Weeks at #2: 3
Song at #1: “The Ballad of the Green Berets” by Ssgt. Barry Sadler

So we come at last to the “bad boys” of the British Invasion. Which is a bit silly, if you ask me; the Beatles weren’t exactly saints. That said, it’s obvious the Stones’ music was a lot more raunchy, with darker lyrical undertones. There weren’t any smooth vocal harmonies here, no George Martin sweetening, just Mick Jagger’s snarling vocals and Keith Richards’ violent guitar. You could definitely see their appeal as something your Perry Como/Joni James-loving parents were guaranteed to hate.

This isn’t one of the first songs to come to mind when I think of them, but it’s not exactly “obscure” these days (In fact, I’m pretty sure I heard it on the radio within the past two weeks).



Well, Nobel has gone on to canonize Bob Dylan for his lyrical skills, so let’s use this little review to shine the spotlight on Mick Jagger. Yes, it’s probably “Like a Rolling Stone” that opened doors for songs like this, because this is far from the “love and loss” lyrics that had been part and parcel of popular music heretofore. Hell, even the early Beatles sides were essentially love songs. Here we have something different: an analysis of a young woman who’s lost her mind, and how she got there.

Which begs the question: why nineteenth nervous breakdown? Presumably because it was attention-getting, euphonious and fit the rhythm of the song. As near as I can tell, the hapless subject of the song’s lyrics is spoiled by her wealthy but neglectful parents, and turns to recreational drugs which only makes matters worse. So...not exactly painting a rosy picture, then.

Musically, the highlight is—as it so frequently is with Stones songs—Keith Richards’ dazzling lead guitar work. This isn’t quite the firestorm of that harsh, broken-speaker beehive buzz found on “Satisfaction,” but this was still harder and edgier guitarwork than people were accustomed to hearing at the time. Soon the likes of Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page would descend onto the scene and ear-bleeding guitar timbres would become the norm. Let it be noted that Keith, for better or worse, got there first.

I don’t know if this is my favorite Stones song of this era, but listening to it again, I realize it’s not only good, but really first-rate! Well done, guys!

Rating: 5

SHG: Len Barry: "1-2-3"

Len Barry: “1-2-3”
Entered the chart on: 10/23/65
Peaked on: 11/20/65
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “I Hear a Symphony” by the Supremes

We have reached the end of 1965 and with it, the end of “short” years of the 60s. The reason 1965 seems to have generated few #2 hits looks like it’s because most songs didn’t seem to be spending much time at #2; that is, most songs that made it to #2 eventually peaked at #1. We’ll see the opposite over the ensuing years of the 60s, which are choked with songs that stalled at #2 behind long-runners in the top spot.

Having said that, let’s examine the case of Len Barry, probably the first alumnus of Second Hand Goods to chart with two different acts: first as the lead singer of the Dovells (remember “Bristol Stomp”?) and now as a solo act. This is another one of those songs where I kind of remember the main hook, but I don’t have a clear picture of the entire song. Methinks I need to refresh my memory...



Appropriately, starting off with someone counting in the song, a la “Wooly Bully.” Appropriate also that this should come second to the Supremes, as the arrangement here is so very Motown. The horns on this really sparkle, piano and guitar handle the rhythm with those slamming drums, and there’s even some vibes for color.

This one’s coming back to me now. I think Len’s voice has improved a good deal from the uncontrolled wail on “Bristol Stomp.” He has learned a lot more technique in the interim, and puts in a very impassioned performance here, reaching its peak with the “It’s easy, like taking candy from a baby” climax.

Better than I had remembered. A total production with an excellent vocal. Ending ’65 in style.

Rating: 4

SHG: Bob Dylan: "Like a Rolling Stone"

Bob Dylan: “Like a Rolling Stone”
Entered the chart on: 8/14/65
Peaked on: 9/4/65
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “Help!” by the Beatles

Well, it took two years, but we finally get an appearance by Bob Dylan on Second Hand Goods on his own, not having one of his songs interpreted by someone else. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think that the British Invasion, specifically the popularity of the Rolling Stones, didn’t have a bit of a hand in this song’s chart success. Incidentally, the Rolling Stones covered “Like a Rolling Stone” themselves in 1995 and their version is...not very good!

But never mind about that, how about the composer’s original version?



I can’t believe it. These were the days when shorter was better, remember this was the next #2 hit after the 2 minute, 59 second “Save Your Heart for Me.” And here’s Bob Dylan with this rambling six-minute number. Apparently, Columbia were really reticent to release this as a single, on account of its length. In addition to that, Dylan had a reputation as a folk singer, and they were sort of antsy releasing a song by him with electric instruments on it.

That said, this is a fascinating song. Much has been written of Dylan deciding to strap on an electric guitar for this one, and of session man Al Kooper (another Gary Lewis link!) playing the unforgettable Hammond organ part on this song. And then there’s the matter of the lyrics. They seem a bit on the harsh side, especially since he seems to be prodding the female subject on her way down a cataclysmic fall from success. Kicking her when she’s down, so to speak. That said, and this has been pointed out by other reviewers, she doesn’t strike me as the nicest person in the world. Not saying that she deserves this much scorn, but still. There’s a lot we don’t know. As with Carly Simon’s later hit “You’re So Vain,” it’s become popular to ponder if some real-life person was the inspiration for the song, especially if said person might have been somebody famous.

Really, Dylan needs to be canonized for his lyric writing (Oh, what’s that? He was?). Because he really is a master with words. The “Once upon a dime you dressed so fine/Threw the bums a dime in your prime,” couplet is overflowing with internal rhyme, they roll off the tongue in an appealing way, and we’re only at the start of the song! It’s not the only time that happens, the entire song is like that.

Obviously, we have to address Dylan’s voice, which I know a lot of people don’t like. Ragged and untrained, it’s definitely not pretty. But there is a raw honesty to it, and he sells the subject matter with clearly audible fire in his belly. Would Peter, Paul & Mary have been able to channel the rage and bitterness Dylan brings forth with such ease and effectiveness here? I don’t think so! And his voice is echoed by his amateurish yet oddly appealing harmonica breaks leading from the refrain back into the verse. It’s like the punctuation mark of the song.

Listening to this is kind of like listening to that scruffy street musician on the corner. Only you realize that he’s no ordinary talentless bum jabbing at a guitar for pocket change. He actually has something interesting and profound to say.

I get why this was such a big hit. How could anything be the same after this?

Rating: 5

SHG: Herman's Hermits: "Can't You Hear My Heartbeat"

Herman’s Hermits: “Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat”
Entered the chart on: 2/20/65
Peaked on: 3/27/65
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “Stop! In the Name of Love” by the Supremes

Let me tell you the story of Goldie and the Gingerbreads, the first “girl group” to play their own instruments. Goldie (vocals and harmonica), Carole (guitar), Margo (organ) and Ginger (drums), four girls from New York who briefly relocated to London in search of fame and fortune.

It sounds like I’m off on a wild tangent to start this review but stick with me. I swear this connects.

You see, in 1964, the girls’ management offered them a tune called “Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat.” Carole hated it and dismissed it as “bubblegum [expletive],” disgusted that it veered so far from their usual style (imagine a distaff version of the Young Rascals). But Goldie said they had to do it because management had the final say, blah blah blah. The result: a top 40 hit in the UK, television appearances, and so on and so forth.

Meanwhile, over on our side of the pond, Beatlemania had spurred a wave of Anglophilia the likes of which had never been equalled. So it makes sense that MGM, eager to cash in, rush-released a cover version by a group of London pretty boys known as Herman’s Hermits to the US market. Goldie and her cohorts were pissed off. Sure, they didn’t like the song, but they felt it was their song. To be cheated out of a hit in their home country had to be frustrating.

I imagine it wouldn’t have been so bad had the artists doing the song were the actual Beatles or something, as opposed to a gaggle of Bobby Rydells with Cockney accents. Obviously, a manufactured group selected for their non-threatening, boyish looks. Even if their lead singer looks like Bobby Brady. Seriously, have you ever seen Peter Noone and Mike Lookinland in the same room together?



Well, I do like the guitar intro to this one, and it has a nice beat to it. Can’t compare to the beat on “Have I the Right” by the Honeycombs, though. And I’ll always be comparing this to the Gingerbreads’ original. Margo’s swinging Hammond organ and Goldie’s raspy, undeniably rock-inflected voice give a little bit of a flair to what’s otherwise a pretty weak song.

You really don’t get any of that with this version. Peter Noone and co. sing fine, technically, but they’re just so twee. This rendition just winds up pretty flat and empty in the end.

And, as previously stated, it was never all that great a song to begin with.

Rating: 2

SHG: Johnny Rivers: "Memphis"

Johnny Rivers: “Memphis”
Entered the chart on: 6/13/64
Peaked on: 7/11/64
Weeks at #2: 2
Songs at #1: “I Get Around” by the Beach Boys and “Rag Doll” by the Four Seasons

Here’s a song that’s already been around the block a few times. It’s of course a Chuck Berry song, released back in ’59, but weirdly was only a hit in the UK. (#6 on the British pop charts). The version I’m most familiar with is the 1963 instrumental version by guitarist Lonnie Mack, which cracked the top 5. This was another record from my parents’ collection, and one I wore the grooves out of listening to as a kid.

Which brings us to Johnny Rivers. While he was an Italian-American born in New York (real surname: Ramistella), his family moved to Baton Rouge when he was very young, so his Southern Delta accent isn’t a pose, unlike some later artists I’ll be covering. Apparently, he was persona non grata with Elvis Presley on account of this song. Elvis wanted to cover this using this arrangement, but Johnny got there first and had a huge hit with it.



Well, I daresay I think the Beatles are the ones to thank for something like this making it back on the charts. Real rock & roll, the likes of which hasn’t been heard in quite a while. À la the Kingsmen, we get background chatter to give it a spontaneous feel. Other than that, there’s not a lot to it. Guitars and drums. Like I said, real rock & roll.

Johnny does credit to the Chuck Berry original. He has a twang to his voice and, as I said before, it doesn’t seem phony. There isn’t really a lot more to say about this. A solid, old-school rock & roll number.

Rating: 4

SHG: The Beatles: "Do You Want to Know a Secret?"

The Beatles: “Do You Want to Know a Secret”
Entered the chart on: 4/11/64
Peaked on: 5/9/64
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Hello Dolly” by Louis Armstrong

Oh look, the top two on my negative ninth birthday!

You see, every once in a while, the Beatles thought they ought to throw George a bone and give him a substandard tune to sing, something not good enough for #1, but OK for #2. When I was starting out with my pop music charts exploration (i.e.: after acquiring my first copy of the Whitburn book), I noticed this was one of the Beatles early hits I had not heard. I originally hypothesized they couldn’t all be winners, and most albums need their filler. But are there hidden depths here that I missed on first listening? Let’s find out...

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I have to admit, that ringing guitar intro is beautiful. George Martin’s doing, I imagine. I’m surprised how much George (Harrison, not Martin) is flying solo on this tune. Not until we get to the second refrain do we get Paul and John offering reverbed “doo-wah-doo” backing harmonies. There’s also some unidentified cracking percussion instrument (a “whip”?) turning up about half-way through, during the bridge. I imagine that’s also George Martin’s doing.

Well, I can certainly appreciate the craft that went into this, but I’m still not really feeling it. I reiterate: they can’t all be winners. George Martin does a lovely job with the production, making it sleek and shiny as a chrome fender but the song itself? Meh. Boilerplate Beatles.

Rating: 3

SHG: The Beatles: "Twist and Shout"

The Beatles: “Twist and Shout”
Entered the chart on: 3/21/64
Peaked on: 4/4/64
Weeks at #2: 4
Song at #1: “Can’t Buy Me Love” by the Beatles

The Beatles’ debut appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show created a craze heretofore unseen in popular music. Not even Elvis Presley’s iconic debut caused such a commotion. Of course, a big part of the Beatles’ absolute dominance of the pop charts has to do with the backlog of material they’d accrued; they may have debuted with their then-current single, “I Wanna Hold Your Hand,” but they had already been a “thing” in the UK since ’62.

Obviously, the pop music industry, being then as now a den of crass opportunists, rushed to fill the void. Numerous labels—namely Capitol, Swan, Vee-Jay, Tollie* and Atco—all wound up releasing Beatles singles at once. On top of that, MGM blew the dust off of one of the recordings by lounge singer Tony Sheridan featuring the Beatles as the backing band (a rendition of the moldy oldie “My Bonnie”) and that, likewise, charted during this period.

Not wishing to be left out, those clowns at London International assembled a group of girls dubbed the Carefrees, exhumed “We Love You Conrad” from the [stifles laughter] “rock” musical Bye Bye Birdie and thanks to the magic of Mad Libs™ style name substitution, released the result as “We Love You Beatles.” This too hit the charts, despite being utterly worthless.

With all that said, it’s odd that the first Beatles song I should review is a cover, albeit a beloved one. Little known, the Isley Brothers’ version on which the Beatles so obviously based their version is not the original. That honor goes to the Top Notes, whose version was produced by none other than Phil Spector. I have not heard that version, so I need to educate myself...

I have to tell you, after being familiar with later versions, hearing the Top Notes version is...weird. It has a completely different feel, despite being full of the rock energy that the later versions also have. Reportedly, Bert Berns (who co-wrote the song with Bill “Righteous Brothers” Medley) hated what Spector did with his tune, so he helmed the Isley Brothers version himself.

And with all that said, let us finally get round to the serious business of examining Beatlemania in action.

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John Lennon owns this version. His voice on this is kind of like a blown-out speaker, and it totally works for the tune, riding over the top of his and George’s rubber-band-y guitars. And we of course get Paul McCartney’s “woo” in the background, on loan from Little Richard (a fact Little Richard would be glad to point out to you, whether you asked him to do so or not). The harmonized “aahs,” the crack of Ringo’s drums, John’s cat-like scream near the end, it’s all just so perfect.

You really get what a revelation the Beatles must have been listening to this, and you only really understand it when doing a feature like the one I’ve been doing. With a few exceptions (see: Bobby Lewis’ “Tossin’ and Turnin’”) “black music” began going in a direction other than rock & roll, and there were few white artists still doing an effective job of it. We’ve seen Dion and the Kingsmen and, of course, Elvis**, but little in the way of real rock & roll outside of that. To have four kids with funny haircuts from Liverpool going for the spirit of Buddy Holly and absolutely nailing it must have been magical.

Pop music would never be the same. And I mean that in the best way possible.

Rating: 5

*All right, Tollie was a subsidiary of Vee-Jay, albeit one that seemed to exist solely to capitalize on the Beatles success. That’s not strictly true, but it sure feels like it. Incidentally, one of the last singles released by Tollie was Jimmy Cross’ infamous “I Want My Baby Back.”
**Well, Roy Orbison and Gene Pitney had some fine uptempo rockers as well, but we only covered their ballads here at Second Hand Goods.

SHG: Lesley Gore: "You Don't Own Me"

Lesley Gore: “You Don’t Own Me”
Entered the chart on: 1/11/1964
Peaked on: 2/1/1964
Weeks at #2: 3
Song at #1: “I Want to Hold Your Hand” by the Beatles

I really don’t think you could ask for a more symbolic representation of Pop Music’s Changing of the Guard than just a glance of that top 2. Lesley Gore basically handed the baton to the Beatles, allowing them to lead the charge for the rest of the decade.

Not that Lesley Gore had trouble racking up hits after this. The likes of Connie Francis and Frankie Avalon would never visit the charts again, but Lesley was still a star on the rise.

The “girl group” sound was still big business in early ’64. Lesley was sort of a one-girl reduction of the style, only instead of the Angels’ tales of being in love with the “bad boy,” her early singles were all mini-dramas on teenage romance.

And then there’s this, her fourth single and second biggest hit, the one where she asked producer Quincy Jones (yes, that Quincy Jones!) to provide her with something she could sink her teeth into. And damn if he didn’t come up with the goods!



Much has been made of the lyrics of this song, a powerful statement of female independence. I could point out that two men wrote it but I really don’t want to burst your bubble. Besides, this is really good! It drags you in immediately with the dramatic three-note guitar hook laid over the staccato piano chord pattern.

Really, this is all about Lesley. She really proves she’s no lightweight here, singing-wise. There’s no less than two key changes, and she really goes for the jugular with her vocal in the refrain. And did I mention she was only seventeen when she sang this? Wow!

It’s easy with the benefit of hindsight to say something like this was inevitable from the future hostess of PBS’ LGBT affairs program In the Life but at the time, this must have had jaws on the floor. Who would have guessed that the cute girl next door who sang about who had who’s class ring had hidden depths? Speaking of hidden depths, there’s some Lesley Gore albums that collectors know about that the general public don’t: 1972’s Someplace Else Now (her stab at the nascent “singer-songwriter” genre) and 1976’s Love Me by Name (her reunion with Quincy Jones, a very sophisticated adult pop-soul album).

In the meantime, there’s this, perhaps the shiniest gold nugget in her 60s discography.

Rating: 5

SHG: The Kingsmen: "Louie Louie"

The Kingsmen: “Louie Louie”
Entered the chart on: 11/30/63
Peaked on: 12/14/63
Weeks at #2: 6
Songs at #1: “Dominique” by the Singing Nun and “There! I’ve Said It Again” by Bobby Vinton

And so we say farewell to 1963 with this song. Spoiler alert for people unfamiliar with popular music history: we’ll be saying goodbye to a lot of things in 1964. Remember those consistent hitmakers up to this point? Most of them will be long gone by next year. You’ll see why ere long.

In the meantime...what more is there to say about this, perhaps the quintessential “garage rock” anthem? I will say that the fact that it stalled at Number Two for six freaking weeks behind two of the most white-bread pieces of crap is extremely suspicious. You see, there was a rumour that there was all sorts of filthy sailor talk and pornographic poesy lurking under the murky production and Jack Ely’s marble-mouthed delivery. It wasn’t true, of course, but it apparently required an FBI investigation, of all things, to get to the bottom of things. They could have just listened to Richard Berry’s original and saved a lot of time and taxpayer money!

In any case, the rumour help build the song’s legend, and went on to make it the most-covered song of all time.



I’ve talked about iconic riffs before, but I don’t think anything can top that electric piano intro to this. After years of increasing slickness in rock & roll, we’re back in Sun Records territory with this. This literally sounds like it was recorded in someone’s garage, the vocal mic sounds like it’s four feet away*, while the drums sound like they’re at the other end of the room.

The high point of this is undeniably the guitar solo, which somehow I completely forget about every time I listen to it. I don’t know why, the stinging tone the guitarist uses absolutely slayed me this time. The sludgy production is part of the song’s charm; the band’s energy and excitement comes through even though it sounds like it was recorded on a cheap Montgomery Ward’s tape recorder.

This is one of those records like “Walk—Don’t Run” and “Be My Baby” that inspired lots of people to pick up instruments and form bands. There weren’t a lot of songs that sounded like this before, but there were tons after.

Rating: 5

SHG: The Village Stompers: "Washington Square"

Village Stompers: “Washington Square”
Entered the chart on: 10/5/63
Peaked on: 11/23/63
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “I’m Leaving It Up to You” by Dale & Grace

So...it seems that we here in the States weren’t completely barren of Dixieland jazz in the 60s. Here we have a homegrown group; though as you can tell from their name and the title of their one big hit, they hail from New York and not N’awlins. They’re considered to be adjacent to the folk boom we’ve already been examining with some earlier hits this year, and called their style “folk jazz.”

There’s a check-mark next to this entry in my copy of Joel Whitburn’s Top 40 Hits, but I can’t say I remember what this sounds like. Time to give myself a little reminder...



Starting with a ragged, almost out-of-tune electric guitar part, we get the lead played on a banjo. This is not what I expected at all! It’s almost like something out of an Ennio Morricone western soundtrack! It doesn’t really start sounding Dixieland until two-thirds of the way through, when the piano and drums finally join in, and the horns, which had been softly crescendoing in the background for a while, finally start blasting fortissimo notes.

I don’t know what it is about these 60s instrumentals, but they have something that really appeals to me. I get the feeling that if I was alive in 1963, I would have owned this record. Simple, yet highly appealing.

Rating: 5

SHG: The Surfaris: "Wipe Out"

The Surfaris: “Wipe Out”
Entered the chart on: 7/6/63
Peaked on: 8/10/63
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Fingertips—Pt. 2” by Little Stevie Wonder

All right! We’re really in the 60s now! Well, maybe it isn’t the “Summer of Love” 60s that people are getting their undies damp for (I’ll say it now: these are songs from the AM dial. Prepare to be disappointed.) but, hey! Folk-revival followed by surf-rock! The detritus of the 50s this ain’t!

Now, I’m sure people are going to point out that “we’ve already had surf-rock” with the Ventures. I’d argue that, like the “proto-folk-revival” of the Brothers Four, the Ventures were “proto-surf-rock.” This is the real deal. I mean, the title references surfing and they have “surf” in their name! How much more surf-y can you get?

Mind you, despite being born and raised in California, and even spending summer vacations on the beach at Santa Cruz, I was never part of the surf culture. I think the closest I come to it is owning the Beach Boys Pet Sounds, and there aren’t even any songs about surfing on that one!

That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy surf-rock. I mean, come on, I’m not Mexican, but I love me a good enchilada. So let’s dig into this enchilada:



We haven’t even started yet and I already have to laugh. This was released on Dot Records. Ah, they’ve come a long way since throwing hideous whitewashed remakes of R&B classics from the likes of Pat Boone and Gale Storm! Speaking of laughing, how about that iconic, yet creepy, spoken intro to this?

Wow, did they put everything through the spring reverb on this? The intro, the guitar, the bass, the drums, it sounds like they did! This won’t win any prizes for complexity, the up-down guitar melody seems to be playing in solid eighth notes. Really, the drummer is the star of the show here, getting some spotlight fills, though I think he’s at his most interesting when the rest of the band comes back in, getting all cymbal-splashy on us.

Though really, I think simplicity is this song’s strength. At a mere two minutes and fifteen seconds, this song would wear out its welcome if it were any longer. As it is, it sticks in the mind in an appealing way. Toe-tapping fun.

Rating: 5

SHG: Andy Williams: "Can't Get Used to Losing You"

Andy Williams: “Can’t Get Used to Losing You”
Entered the chart on: 3/23/63
Peaked on: 4/13/63
Weeks at #2: 4
Songs at #1: “He’s So Fine” by the Chiffons and “I Will Follow Him” by Peggy March

It’s 1963, and we’re only now getting to Andy Williams? Have we hit a time-warp?

People have described Perry Como as being “like your dad singing,” well, that’s precisely how Andy Williams strikes me. Well, perhaps not my dad specifically, he was a terrible singer. But somebody’s dad. And at least Perry Como injected some personality into his singing, and had his Italian heritage to draw upon. All Andy had was a naturally pitch-controlled voice and a collection of conservative sweater vests. He was like the Ward Cleaver of popular music.

While all the other 50s relics kind of faded away, Andy kept on racking up hits into the early 70s. For some reason, his brand of easy listening balladry resonated with people enough to keep buying his records despite the fact that Frank Sinatra he was not. Well, hipsters have glommed onto him a bit on account of the scandalous behavior of his one-time wife, questionably talented chanteuse Claudine Longet. But let us not forget: this is the same man who unleashed the Osmond family on the world.

And yet, I can never count anyone out on this feature. I promised to keep an open mind and I have done so (believe me, I’ll never make fun of Patti Page ever again). And this tune was written by Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman, so it must have something going for it. Let’s hope so...



Well, this is more uptempo than I expected. I was anticipating a slushy ballad, but was met with percussive guitar stabs. I guess technically this is a ballad, but it’s awfully uptempo for a song about a guy having trouble dealing with lost love. There’s strings and choir there, but they’re fairly muted and low key. It’s mainly about that guitar and percussion.

The production makes the most of Andy’s voice, double-tracking so he’s harmonizing with himself. He does need some beef there because we’re clearly not going to get a Tony Bennett-level performance out of him, so we need something to keep the listener’s interest.

So, as it turns out, Andy is (rather predictably) the least interesting part of this tune. But it is, nonetheless, interesting. Kudos to producer Robert Mersey for bringing out the best in this record.

Rating: 3

SHG: Dion: "Ruby, Baby"

Dion: “Ruby Baby”
Entered the chart on: 1/26/63
Peaked on: 2/23/63
Weeks at #2: 3
Song at #1: “Hey, Paula” by Paul & Paula and “Walk Like a Man” by the Four Seasons

So...we’ve made it to 1963 unscathed. I’m biding my time until 1964—savvy readers of this feature ought to know what happens then. In the meantime, some interesting developments in ’63 mean it’s shaping up to finally really feel like the 60s, instead of the dregs of the late 50s. Which is fine for me; as much as I enjoyed watching the movie Hairspray*, it’s not a place I’d want to live.

So...we’re back to Dion. Of the Italian-American pretty boys that were in vogue at the time, he is by far my favorite, questionably sexist lyrical content aside. Unlike Frankie Avalon, Paul Anka and the Bobbys, Dion had actual rock & roll credibility, as well as a dynamite singing voice.

That said, I’m not conjuring up a memory of this one in my head. Which is odd, since it’s technically his second-biggest hit**. Clearly I need a refresher course, so let’s get to it!



OK, the Leiber-Stoller credit on the label (his first for Columbia after years with Laurie) gives me hope. As does the stark intro of just guitar chords. Dion’s voice enters, so slinky and loaded with soul. This is almost a throwback to Sun Records rockabilly stuff. I just adore how off-the-cuff Dion’s performance is here, all the casual asides he throws out in between phrases add to the appeal of this one.

Wow! How did I forget this was a thing? Why bother with Tame Elvis when Dion was more in the spirit of those early Elvis sides in ’63 than Elvis was anymore?

Shame on me for forgetting about this! This has to be the best classic rock & roll styled number I’ve covered on Second Hand Goods in a while!

Rating: 5 *the John Waters original, not the musical abomination, thank you. **after “Runaround Sue,” his only #1. As you’ll recall “The Wanderer” went to #2 as well, but only spent one week there.

SHG: Elvis Presley: "Return to Sender"

Elvis Presley: “Return to Sender”
Entered the chart on: 10/27/62
Peaked on: 11/17/62
Weeks at #2: 5
Song at #1: “Big Girls Don’t Cry” by the Four Seasons

So, you’ve tamed your Wild Elvis, now what do you do with him? If you’re Colonel Tom Parker, you’ll have him star in a series of progressively more embarrassing movie musicals until they stop being profitable/Elvis realizes they’re making him look like a dork, decides he’s had enough and exerts his will to exact some damage control on his flagging career.

This tune’s from Girls! Girls! Girls! which is about...honestly, does it really matter? I’m convinced the scripts for Elvis movies were written Mad Libs™-style; you know: “In this film, Elvis plays a [GLAMOUROUS PROFESSION] in [EXOTIC LOCALE], where he falls for a gorgeous young woman played by [CURRENTLY HOT HOLLYWOOD STARLET]. But she resists his charms, until she hears him sing [SONG WRITTEN FOR FILM].” And so on and so forth.

But we’re not here to review Elvis’ filmography (thank the Gods), we’re here to review a song. And this time it’s an uptempo number and not a dreary ballad.



Oh my, is that a baritone sax opening this? I already like this better than that Blue Hawaii sleeping pill!And you sure don’t hear guitar this clean on rock songs anymore! I’d comment on the dated postal reference in the lyrics but, hey, think of that Lady Gaga/Beyoncé feature-length ad for Samsung and how silly it will look one day already looks.

Make no mistake, this is Tame Elvis. You could easily imagine the likes of the Bobbys (Vee, Rydell, et al) singing this. But it’s Elvis. Elvis does his usual Elvis magic to lift average material above the norm. Elvis makes this song not suck.

Rating: 3

SHG: Nat "King" Cole: "Ramblin' Rose"

Nat “King” Cole: “Ramblin’ Rose”
Entered the chart on: 8/18/62
Peaked on: 9/22/62
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “Sherry” by the Four Seasons

For those of you who have been following Second Hand Goods from the very beginning, you’ll remember that I have a history with Nat “King” Cole. Namely, that he was the first recipient of a five-star award on this feature, and with a song I’d never even heard before: the exquisite ballad “A Blossom Fell.”

Full disclosure time: I’ve never heard this before, either, his last top 5 entry before his tragic death in 1965. To be fair, most of his best-known, most enduring hits (“Unforgettable,” “Mona Lisa” et al) pre-date the rock era. So it’s not inconceivable that I’ve never heard this before: until starting this feature, I’d never heard any song of his newer than 1954. After “A Blossom Fell,” I have high hopes for this one. Don’t let me down, Nat...



You know, I think I might have been mistaken. This sounds awfully familiar. I must have heard this somewhere at some point. I looked at the songwriting credit and thought, “This was written by the Sherman Brothers?” Well, yes and no. It was written by a pair of brothers with the surname Sherman, but not those Sherman Brothers. Got that?

It’s hard not to bop your head along to this. It’s got a bouncy rhythm that carries you along with it, with the guitar leading the way. It sounds awfully old-school for 1962, but then it’s Nat, so would you expect any less? It’s obvious he’d been smoking like a chimney at this point, but I could still listen to that voice of his all day long.

In a way, this is is Nat’s way of keeping up with the Joneses. Or at least the Brook Bentons (he pilfered his musical director, Belford Hendricks) and the Ray Charleses (the orchestration with the massive mixed-voice choir seems to be on loan from “I Can’t Stop Loving You”). This one’s all about that infectious singalong refrain. Nat, being an old pro, knows this, and before the final chorus repeat commands, “One more time, everybody!”

Admit it, you were singing along, too.

Rating: 4

SHG: Elvis Presley: "Can't Help Falling in Love"

Elvis Presley: “Can’t Help Falling in Love”
Entered the chart on: 12/18/61
Peaked on: 2/3/62
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Peppermint Twist” by Joey Dee and the Starliters

We’ve entered 1962, and I can’t help but notice that Elvis has completed his final metamorphosis into Tame Elvis. You’ll notice this was from Blue Hawaii, one in a long line of cheesy Elvis flicks, and the same one that featured the much-mocked “Ito Eats.”

You know, when I was a kid, I really disliked Elvis. Probably a bit of mild rebellion, as Elvis was Mom’s favorite. Then again, it might be me associating him with tunes like this, which I’ve never really liked. I distinctly remember the Blue Hawaii soundtrack in a stack of Mom’s records.



I was going to say “Elvis is the best part of this,” but while Elvis usually is the best part of any Elvis record, there’s other stuff of worth here. The up-down piano arpeggio that weaves through the entire track does a good job of tying it all together (is that Floyd Cramer? Possibly Elvis himself?). The Jordanaires are back and wonderful as usual on backing vocals. There’s also a sweet, slinky guitar hook during the B verse that grabs the listener. And do I detect a ukulele in the background? It’s from Blue Hawaii after all.

A lesser producer would have just swamped the whole thing in a treacly string orchestration, but fortunately that doesn’t happen. The production on this record is flawless, as is, typically, Elvis’ singing performance. The problem with this is the song itself. I’ve always found it to be bland, sentimental mush designed to appeal to weepy teenaged girls. Yuck.

At least it’s well-done, and Elvis gives it his all as usual, but that can’t save the song from the junk pile.

Rating: 2

SHG: The Dovells: "The Bristol Stomp"

The Dovells: “Bristol Stomp”
Entered the chart on: 9/18/1961
Peaked on: 10/23/1961
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “Runaround Sue” by Dion

Not to obsess, but after listening to “Crying,” I went ahead and re-familiarized myself with Don McLean’s version and k. d. lang’s also for good measure*. And you know what? Both versions are very, very good! Neither is quite as spectacular as the original, at first, but both are performed by first-rate singers with reverence to the source material, yet who make the song their own. Isn’t that what good cover songs do?

Something tells me I’ll be referring back to this text in the near future.

Anyway, the Dovells. Is this the first “dance craze” record we’ve covered at Second Hand Goods? Was there really a dance to go with this song? Or did they just want to get their home-town some air-time on national, public radio. No idea if it’s actually true, but I understand the BBC banned this tune**, considering its lyric too salacious. “Bristols,” you see, is a slang term for women’s breasts.

Methinks someone at the BBC has a dirtier mind than any of us. What did they think this song was about? The mind boggles...



Oh yes, this is a Cameo-Parkway joint, so I think that’s a big, fat “yes” on the “is this a dance craze song or not?” Cameo-Parkway were the crassest of the early “youth-oriented” labels; they had no shame in jumping on any trend that came down the pike and exploiting it with ruthless abandon.

The thing that sticks in my mind about this, more than the insistent “The kids in Bristol are sharp as a pistol, etc.” backing vocal litany, is that jaunty guitar strumming accompaniment. Trust me to notice something about the instrumental track!

I guess we’re in “white people trying to sound black” territory again, which explains Len Barry’s wailing lead vocal on this. I don’t dislike it, but he’s kind of all over the place, missing notes right and left. Is it just me? Maybe it is, because obviously a lot of people bought this record.

I don’t know, maybe I’d like it better if they used a different take, but I bet Cameo-Parkway wanted to rush-release this and get it out the door as quick as possible to exploit the ever-fickle teenage taste. Because that’s the Cameo-Parkway way.

Rating: 3

*Still haven’t worked up the nerve to check out the rendition by Dutch Schlager singer Gerard Joling. I’m still burned by the time I heard what Wayne Newton did to “In Dreams.”
**It did become a hit, albeit belatedly, for the UK nostalgia group the Late Show in 1979.

SHG: Jørgen Ingmann: "Apache"

Jørgen Ingmann & His Guitar: “Apache”
Entered the chart on: 2/20/61
Peaked on: 3/3/61
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “Pony Time” by Chubby Checker

Here’s the last of the instrumentals I promised you. We shan’t get another until ’62, so we better savor it.

Jørgen Ingmann was part of a miniature explosion of Danish instrumentalists on the pop charts in the early 60s, along pianist Bent Fabric (“Alley Cat”) and trombonist Kai Winding (“More*”). Ingmann is better known abroad for “Dansevise,” the Eurovision-winning tune from 1963 featuring his wife Grethe playing the Mary Ford to his Les Paul.

While this song is heavily linked with Ingmann, especially in Scandinavia, it’s actually a cover. Burt Weedon did the original. The Shadows, roughly the UK answer to the Ventures and Cliff Richard’s backing band, did the second version, a UK chart-topper in the summer of 1960. Having only heard Ingmann’s version (and the cheesy 70s cover by Danish keyboardist Tommy Seebach), I shall duly preface my review with a listen to Weedon’s and the Shadows’ versions.



OK, the Shadows’ version is excellent, but very much in the Ventures mould. Not so fond of Weedon’s show-offy version, which seems to lose the melody in lots of showboating. As for Ingmann’s version, they’re not kidding with the “and his guitar” business. I wasn’t far off the mark with the Les Paul comparison earlier, this is just multiple tracks of Ingmann’s guitar and nothing else.

Not just because it’s the one I’m most familiar with, but this version is winning out for me. I’m a huge fan of the echo effects on this one, a touch of outer-space as befits the astronaut craze of the times. There’s something utterly enigmatic about the stark “layers of guitar only” arrangement of this that draws me into the melody.

A stunner, and by far the best instrumental I have reviewed thus far.

Rating: 5

*This was the theme to the controversial Italian documentary Mondo Cane, from the brief American craze for European cinema, on account of the more permissive values (read: more prurient content) compared to Hollywood, which was still clinging to the tattered remains of the Hays Code.

SHG: The Ventures: "Walk—Don't Run"

The Ventures: “Walk—Don’t Run”
Entered the chart on: 7/25/1960
Peaked on: 8/29/1960
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis Presley

It’s funny, this is the first instrumental I’ve reviewed since “Raunchy” all the way back in 1957. “Funny” because I’m looking ahead, and I see three instrumentals (more or less) in quick succession in my near future. Funny because I’m looking at the plentitude of instrumentals that charted in 1961. But more on that later.

It’s also funny that the Ventures, the most successful and influential of instrumental rock bands possibly of all-time, are hardly ever talked about these days. Imitators like Dick Dale receive gushing praise from hipster lips all the time, but hardly anyone mentions the originators of the surf-guitar sound anymore. And I have to wonder why that is?

For the record, this originated as a 1956 jazz guitar tune by Johnny Smith. It had also previously been done by country guitarist and musical arranger Chet Atkins (the man behind the memorably subtle orchestration of Jim Reeves’ “He’ll Have to Go”), on whom the Ventures apparently based their version.



I have to say, there’s a certain something about the Ventures’ rendition of this that just clicks with me the way the Johnny Smith and Chet Atkins versions don’t. The melody is there and present in all three versions, but why does the Ventures version seem so much better to me? I guess the other two are competent, but rather typical. The Johnny Smith version follows a steady “head-solos-head” form that was typical of 1950s jazz, while the Chet Atkins tune could be any instrumental track off of a “guitarist plays popular songs” album of the day.

The Ventures version has a certain je ne sais quoi about it. Maybe it’s that drum fill that opens the tune, making you stand at attention. Maybe it’s that spiky guitar tone that’s present on both lead and rhythm guitars. For whatever reason, it really works for this song and it’s memorable melody. Bob Bogle’s handling of the melody is very fluid, and he knows just when to bend a note and how to do so to make the most of it.

Apparently this song influenced a ton of young, budding musicians to pick up guitars and form bands of their own. And you know, I can hear that. Timeless stuff.

Rating: 5