SHG: The Ronettes: "Be My Baby"

The Ronettes: “Be My Baby” Entered the chart on: 9/14/63 Peaked on: 10/12/63 Weeks at #2: 3 Song at #1: “Sugar Shack” by Jimmy Gilmer & the Fireballs

1963 really was the golden age of the “girl group” sound. Not only the Jaynetts, but you may have noticed tunes by the Angels, the Chiffons and the Crystals lurking in the top spot of past review subjects.

This one’s a Phil Spector production, the first to appear in Second Hand Goods. He co-wrote the tune with Jeff Barry and Ellie Greenwich, who I believe also make their debut appearances on this feature. There’s a lot of superlatives attached to this tune, even more so than “Sally Go Round the Roses,” so it has quite a lot to live up to. Not that I have any doubts, I love this song! And like “There Goes My Baby” from four years earlier, it caused many to step up their game (not least, the previously-alluded-to Brian Wilson).

Now, before we begin the proper review, some of you are probably asking yourself why music of this era sounds the way it does. That’s because the main way these pop songs were disseminated was via the transistor radio. Phil Spector and his contemporaries were trying to make music that sounded good coming from a 2-inch speaker.

That said...



Ah yes, that much-imitated drum-handclap hook. With castanets adding accents! Exquisite! Jack Nitzsche, another pop music genius, arranged this, and it’s really superb. There’s a cello solo in the middle eight that kind of gets me right here.

I held back in talking about Veronica “Ronnie” Spector’s voice, which is an absolute treasure. She has this aching sob in her voice that makes listening to her an utterly compelling experience. The Ronettes didn’t have a huge amount of hits (this was undeniably their biggest), but Ronnie wound up being highly influential largely on the basis of this one song (Hell, Eddie Money coaxed her out of retirement to reference it in his “Take Me Home Tonight”). The backing harmonies are likewise sumptuously gorgeous, and it’s almost Mellotron-like in the way the backing singers meld with the strings, forming a kind of “additive synthesis” unison timbre.

That’s the magic of Phil Spector’s so-called “Wall of Sound.”

Pop perfection, it demands to be heard.

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: Skeeter Davis: "The End of the World"

Skeeter Davis: “The End of the World”
Entered the chart on: 2/16/63
Peaked on: 3/23/63
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Our Day Will Come” by Ruby & the Romantics

Mary Francis Pennick, known professionally as Skeeter Davis, has already had a bit of a hand in Second Hand Goods, having written lyrics for Floyd Cramer’s “Last Date,” which she sang the first vocal version of. Another SHG alumna, Joni James, also covered the Davis version and had her last Top 40 chart entry with it.

This is a very incestuous entry, speaking in #2 hits terms.

Anyway, I remember this song as being very overwrought. Let’s see if it lives up to my memory of it.



Well, her voice is less whiny than I recall. This song lays it on pretty thick, though. Lyricist Sylvia Dee reportedly drew on sorrow from the death of her father for inspiration. Which comes across as a bit heavy for a song about heartbreak. I mean, as a poor, lonely soul who’s never known love (see the “You Don’t Know Me” review), I imagine being dumped can feel pretty apocalyptic, but still, the glurge-y string orchestration (Chet Atkins again) and see-saw piano arpeggios (almost certainly Floyd Cramer yet again) make this feel awfully manipulative.

And let’s not even get into the spoken word couplet someone insisted on talking Skeeter into putting in there. The whole thing comes across as a cake made entirely of icing, and that’s just not a dish I want to devour.

I feel like someone’s trying too hard to make me feel a certain way, and I hate that!

Rating: 2

SHG: Gene Pitney: "Only Love Can Break a Heart"

Gene Pitney: “Only Love Can Break a Heart”
Entered the chart on: 9/29/62
Peaked on: 11/3/62
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “He’s a Rebel” by the Crystals

This is why I was excited for 1962: a hat-trick of absolutely spectacular male soloists all with consecutive songs peaking at #2 in the autumn. Here we have Gene Pitney, and if Roy Orbison had any kind of competition for most potent male balladeer of the early 60s, it had to have been from Gene. Clearly it was a mutual admiration society, since Roy sang at least one song Gene wrote: “Today’s Teardrops.” In fact, before he made it as a soloist, Gene made his bread and butter as a songwriter, having written hits for a couple of other Second Hand Goods’ alumni: “Hello Mary Lou” for Ricky Nelson and “Rubber Ball” for Bobby Vee. Oh, and “He’s a Rebel” for the Crystals! Is this the first instance on SHG where the top 2 are by different artists, yet written by the same person?

Not only was he a versatile vocalist and superior songwriter, but he was multi-talented as an instrumentalist as well, playing and singing everything on his debut hit “(I Wanna) Love My Life Away.” But it’s his expressive tenor voice that he’s best remembered for. He could sometimes border on campy melodrama (see his rendition of the title song from Town Without Pity, one of his most enduring hits) but he was always a captivating listen. He was Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s preferred male interpreter of their material. This song is one of theirs. This has a lot of potential to live up to.



Man, this song doesn’t mess around! A swath of strings and we’re right into the refrain. I imagine Bacharach wanted to hammer in the most memorable and catchy bit of this because, like a lot of his tunes, it’s really oddly constructed. The verses are of differing lengths with melodies and rhythms that jump all over the place. It’s precisely that weirdness that makes Bacharach’s songs memorable. Part of Pitney’s appeal to him is that he—like their preferred female soloist, Dionne Warwick—is able to navigate the unexpected twists and turns of his songs and make it sound natural.

Whoever’s playing the guitar on this deserves an award for making it sound very smooth. None of the changes seem jarring or out-of-place. There’s also a nice whistling hook near the start that’s repeated at the end. Pitney doesn’t go for melodrama here, if anything, he’s under-selling the lyric. But God, that voice is to die for.

Not your usual romantic ballad, by any stretch of the imagination. You could write a term paper on this.

Rating: 5

SHG: Ray Charles: "You Don't Know Me"

Ray Charles: “You Don’t Know Me”
Entered the chart on: 8/4/62
Peaked on: 9/8/62
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Sheila” by Tommy Roe

Ah, Ray Charles. People who say that the early 60s was a wasteland for popular music probably need to be reminded that Ray Charles was in his prime during this period. And if anyone has a bad word to say about Ray Charles, kindly smack them in the back of the head for me.

If this is the song I think it is, it’s a good one. But I associate Ray Charles with original material, and this one’s a cover. Originally sung by country singer Eddy Arnold in 1959, it was subsequently done by Jerry Vale before Ray Charles got his pipes and ivories all over it. So, in the grand tradition of Second Hand Goods, I shall duly consult those versions before sampling Ray Charles’ interpretation.

A short little prelude before the main feature: this is the song I think it is. Eddy Arnold’s version is very good in the Jim Reeves mould. Maybe a bit better, actually. Not feeling Jerry Vale’s version, his voice is fine, but a bit overly polite, to say nothing of Percy Faith’s saccharine orchestration. But I really love this song. It’s really a heart-breaking number, all about a man who’s too shy to let his beloved know how he really feels.

Honestly, why would I relate to such a song?



Right, I think we have a record-breaker. I’ve previously said that it takes 57 seconds for Nat “King” Cole’s voice to have its effect on the listener. With Ray Charles I think that’s zero seconds. He opens his mouth to sing, and I’m immediately an emotional wreck. It’s such exquisite torture! He really knows how to squeeze every drop of pathos from this lyric. It’s funny, he has this sunny, jolly personality, then he proceeds to sing one of the saddest songs you’ve ever heard.

I have to say, I’m not especially fond of Marty Paich’s arrangement. The pillowy strings and old-fashioned choir probably even beat Percy Faith’s orchestration on Jerry Vale’s version in the sticky-as-molasses department. But I suppose it’s not too different from “I Can’t Stop Loving You” and other such Ray Charles hit ballads of this era.

That said, I’m glad someone put this lead sheet in front of Ray and told him to sing it. This is the definitive version of this tune. I’ve always associated this song with him, and believe me, there’s a reason. I don’t know that I’ve ever heard this version before, I’ve just seen TV performances and the like of him singing it at his piano.

Sorrow has never been quite so enjoyable.

Rating: 5

SHG: Dee Clark: "Raindrops"

Dee Clark: “Raindrops”
Entered the chart on: 5/22/1961
Peaked on: 6/26/1961
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Quarter to Three” by U. S. Bonds

I’m at a loss on how to start this review. Clark is another one of those artists like Lloyd Price who’d been kicking around in some form or other since the early 50s who just had to bide his time until popular tastes caught up with him. This was his biggest hit...and his last top 40 entry. It’s also the first song here at Second Hand Goods on the legendary Vee Jay label. I know I’ve heard this before, but I’m not remembering it clearly except as an excerpt of the hook in one of those K-Tel or Sessions ads.

Might as well get on with the review, since I’m running out of stuff to talk about.



CRASH! Rain and thunder sound effects...are these the first sound effects since...when was that that we last had sound effects on SHG? Could someone click on the “sound effects” tag and tell me?

“It must be raindrops, because men ain’t supposed to cry.” Oh, Dee, did you learn nothing from Rosey Greer? Right, it’s 1961, a decade too soon for Free to Be, You and Me. This is another song of heartbreak, along the lines of “Greenfields” or “Only the Lonely.” But for whatever reason, this isn’t doing it for me. The production is fine, there’s certainly a lot of money lavished into the lush string arrangement here. And I like how Dee lets the soul overtake him during the emotional chorus (even if I take exception to its dated sentiment). But in general, his voice is a little too clinical for my tastes. We’re not quite in Johnny Tillotson territory, but we’re edging awfully close.

For period R&B, you can do a lot better. Meh.

Rating: 2

SHG: Ferrante & Teicher: "Exodus"

Ferrante & Teicher: “Exodus”
Entered the chart on: 11/28/1960
Peaked on: 1/23/1961
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Wonderland by Night” by Bert Kämpfert

Here’s proof that instrumentals were the flavor of the month: both of the top 2 are instrumentals! I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually heard “Wonderland by Night” and if I have, I wouldn’t know it by name. I suppose that’s the peril of instrumental songs; how do you know what you’re listening to without the DJ to tell you what it is? Nowadays, with Shazam and its ilk, we’re pretty spoiled in that regard.

When I was very wee, I was actually a Ferrante & Teicher fan, thrilling to their extravagant twin-piano pyrotechnics on TV appearances and listening to their Greatest Hits on albums my parents owned. Even at the age of eight, I rather knew there was something deeply un-cool about liking them, and hid my fandom from my friends.

Little did I know they’d receive a hipster re-appraisal during the “lounge-core” era of the 1990s. Mind you, that was for their very early sides at Westminster, when they were doing Space Age prepared piano music, such fans considered them to have “jumped the shark” once they became Liberace-esque superstars at United Artists. Though even with the very early “prepared piano” stuff, we’re not exactly talking John Cage and David Tudor here. Even there, they were offering up renditions of the likes of “Tico Tico” and “Tea for Two.”

So, here we have a movie theme, which is what all their chart hits were (this is the follow-up to their two-pianos version of the theme from The Apartment). Exodus was a film by Otto Preminger, back when he was still a respected filmmaker, before the likes of Hurry Sundown, Skidoo and [shudder] Rosebud turned him into a laughingstock. So it pays to check out the original Ernest Gold orchestration before I listen to the Ferrante & Teicher arrangement. Which I shall now do.



Hmm...sounds like Ferrante & Teicher cloned Ernest Gold’s original arrangement of the intro, all big brass and strings, then shook things up in the rest of the track to spotlight their flashy piano playing. The original was bombastic movie music, spirited and very loud. Ferrante & Teicher’s rendition captures the feel of the original, just alters the arrangement to fit their pianos in and make it front and center. Hands down, this is the loudest orchestration we’ve had since “Don’t You Know.” Of course, for the big finale, they do that tinkly, descending semi-glissando thing (well, what would you call it?) which was their trademark.

People will argue until they’re blue in the face over which version is better, but it’s “push” as far as I’m concerned. As with Floyd Cramer’s tune, this one is just fine.

Rating: 4

SHG: Floyd Cramer: "Last Date"

Floyd Cramer: “Last Date”
Entered the chart on: 10/24/1960
Peaked on: 11/28/1960
Weeks at #2: 4
Song at #1: “Are You Lonesome To-Night” by Elvis Presley

A little warning, this is the first of a big chunk of instrumental songs that hit the charts in 1961. Actually, I gave you a heads-up on that during the Ventures review. Here’s the first one and it’s from pianist Floyd Cramer, who’s been on hundreds of country hits. In fact, he played on the Johnny Tillotson song I just reviewed. Is that the first time that’s happened on Second Hand Goods, where a session musician on one hit winds up as the soloist on the next one?

Anyway, Cramer earned a reputation for a technique he called “slide piano,” using a lot of grace notes to make it sound as though the notes are gliding into one another. Oh, you’ll hear what I mean when you listen to it.



It’s hard to explain the appeal of this one. Floyd Cramer has had more exciting tunes than this one (listen to the follow-up, “On the Rebound”), but there’s something about the lazy afternoon feel of this one. It’s a slow tempo but it doesn’t drag. I suppose you could call this a “ballad” if it had words to it. It’s rather “sitting on a porch swing sipping a mint julep” music to my ears.

It’s not drowning in the string arrangement, which is a relief. The strings come in and enhance the melody without swamping it, which they totally could if left to their own devices. Unsurprisingly, this is, like “He’ll Have to Go,” another “Countrypolitan” Chet Atkins production.

Obviously, this tune resonated with lots of people, since cover versions of it proliferated, including one by SHG veterans the Ventures*. Another SHG veteran, Joni James, did a vocal interpretation saddled with the cumbersome alternate title “(My) Last Date (With You).” It was her last entry into the Billboard Top 40.

For an easy-listening instrumental, it’s actually pretty easy to listen to. Sometimes, that’s all I ask.

Rating: 4

*my parents owned the album that had their cover on it, Another Smash! I’ve always wondered what silent movie the cover still came from. For some reason, I remembered it as being from a Three Stooges short, but it seems I was mistaken.

SHG: Roy Orbison: "Only the Lonely"

Roy Orbison: “Only the Lonely (Know the Way I Feel)” Entered the chart on: 7/25/1960 Peaked on: 7/25/1960 Weeks at #2: 1 Song at #1: “I’m Sorry” by Brenda Lee

Up until 1964, the 60s has this reputation for being a vast wasteland, a barren boneyard populated by anti-rock teen idols, dumb dance fads and toxic novelty songs. That reputation isn’t entirely without some basis in fact, the one-two punch of Bobby Rydell and [shudder] Paul Anka should be proof enough of that, but it doesn’t tell the entire story. There was some real, enduring talent born in this period. Enter Roy Orbison.

Orbison, like Elvis Presley and Carl Perkins before him, gestated at Sun Records as a would-be rockabilly star. Those early sides have their critical admirers but they didn’t earn him much in the way of commercial success. My guess is someone at Monument Records said, “a kid with this vocal range is wasted on this uptempo stuff. Give him some ballads to sing, something that shows off that golden voice of his!” Which begat his first foray into the Billboard Top 40: “Only the Lonely.”

Slight aside, this is another one from my parents’ record collection. So let’s re-visit this golden oldie:



Starts off fairly typical intro, plinky piano with some of those syllabic male backing vocals that were so popular at the time. And then Roy starts singing. I ask you, is there a singer out there who is as immediately compelling as Roy Orbison? Once he opens his voice to sing, “Only the lonely know the way I feel tonight,” I sit up at rapt attention. I mean, we’ve had good, even great, singers on Second Hand Goods, but Roy just has this magical combination of tone, phrasing, range, precision and emotional connection that has me saying, “I want to hear where he’s going with this.”

Heartbreak must have been the flavor of the month. Right after “Greenfields” we immediately get another, “I’m blue because my woman left me” song. But the way this was constructed, all around Roy’s silver-plated vocal cords, makes it a monument of pop mastery. Bob Moore’s orchestration deserves a bit of credit here, the way the strings add pounding accents in the “There goes my baby...” verse is nice touch. And when he returns to that verse a second time, and hits those high notes in the line “That’s the chance you’ve got to take,” it’s one of those “icy chills up and down my spine” moments that’s all too rare in popular music.

Well, only two reviews after “Puppy Love,” and I think I’ve broken the scale in the other direction. I don’t know if there’s a rating high enough for this. Stunning beauty; it demands to be heard.

Rating: 5

SHG: Paul Anka: "Puppy Love"

Paul Anka: “Puppy Love”
Entered the chart on: 3/7/1960
Peaked on: 4/4/1960
Weeks at #2: 2
Song at #1: “Theme From A Summer Place” by Percy Faith

I have been dreading this one.

Actually, I do have a funny story about this one. But not about the original, about the cover by Donny Osmond (Demons in Hell, why would anyone want to cover this monstrosity? Oh, right, it’s the Osmonds. Mike Curb was in charge of them in the 70s, and the man had execrable taste!). I don’t know which of us did it, and I don’t remember how we came across it, but either friend-of-the-show David Perkins or I came across a Real Media/Quicktime snippet of bootleg audio of an audience recording from an Osmond brothers show from circa 1973. Donny’s rendition of “Puppy Love” went a little something like this:

“And they called it...”

[the rest of the song is drowned out by the fortissimo, rodent-like screeching of hundreds of adolescent girls]

I have to wonder if girls reacted to Paul Anka’s original in that manner. And how hormones could possibly suppress the “good taste” indicator so strongly.



[bangs head against desk repeatedly]

We’re back to this then? “They tell us we’re too young to know what real love is...blah blah blah.” At least Bobby Rydell’s song, lame as it was, tried. This is just saccharine, swathed in treacly strings and those hideous “angels in Heaven” choral vocals.

Let’s not even get started on Anka’s vocal performance here, which borders on the comical before spilling over straight into tragedy. He’s so histrionic in his delivery—sobbing, stuttering, whimpering pitifully in a ludicrously exaggerated fashion—I have a hard time believing this isn’t some kind of put-on. Who thought any of this was a good idea?

So quintessentially appalling, I think I might have broken my own rating scale.

Rating: 0 [obviously]

SHG: Della Reese: "Don't You Know?"

Della Reese: “Don’t You Know”
Entered the chart on: 10/5/1959
Peaked on: 11/30/1959
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “Mack the Knife” by Bobby Darin

And we end the 50s as we began it: with a song I’ve never heard before.

I know Della of course, but as an actress, not a singer. She was part of my childhood, appearing on the now-rarely-seen Chico and the Man and guest-starring frequently on Sanford and Son, not to mention a ton of other TV shows.

Reading up on this tune has been interesting to say the least. Adapted from an aria from Puccini’s La bohème, you say? I’m intrigued! That would make this the first pop music adaptation of a classical piece to appear on this feature. I thought I would need to wait for a certain tune from the mid-60s for that! Oh, you’ll see!



Whoa! That’s the most forceful orchestration I’ve heard on this feature in a while! I know “There Goes My Baby” has a string orchestration, too, but this string section doesn’t f$&% around! The single crows “A Hugo & Luigi Production,” so I guess they’re responsible for the screaming strings, bombastic brass and pounding tympani. There’s nothing subtle about this.

In all, this is a throwback to the pre-rock sound from before. It really sits oddly among all those rock & roll records, I have to say. And her voice is powerful—damn, it would just about have to be to compete with that blaring orchestra—but it certainly has nothing to do with rock or R&B. Her voice is loaded with melodrama, and reminds me of divas from across the pond like Shirley Bassey and Dorothy Squires. I can understand this being a hit over in the UK more than here.

That said, you really have to appreciate the craftsmanship that went into this, Della’s singing ability, and the power of her voice. Majestic is the word for this one.

Rating: 4

SHG: The Drifters: "There Goes My Baby"

The Drifters: “There Goes My Baby”
Entered the chart on: 6/29/1959
Peaked on: 8/17/1959
Weeks at #2: 1
Song at #1: “A Big Hunk o’ Love” by Elvis Presley

Have we reached the apex of “malt-shop music” with this? It’s certainly one of those songs I’ve always enjoyed, and I had forgotten that Ben E. King was the singer on this one. More significantly, in the continued roll-out of rock/R&B numbers with higher production values of 1959, this is apparently the first “rock” record to feature a string section. This made it a game-changer, it seems Phil Spector was specifically inspired by this record.

So...I haven’t even re-listened to this and I’m already jittery with anticipation. Don’t disappoint me, now!



Well, I’d forgotten about that odd vocal intro. And then...[cascade of strings] “There goes my baby!...” It goes without saying that Ben E. King’s voice is flawless; spirited and confident and enchanting. There’s an undeniable vulnerability to his performance that makes this song personal.

The backing vocals and the string arrangement are what set this apart. That vocal intro recurs at odd points in the song, helping boost the lead, while the string part goes into a sort of bolero rhythm at one point. It’s easy to see how a lot of people were inspired by this. I rather hear this as a precursor to the Motown sound, with acts like the Temptations and the Four Tops obviously basing elements of their sound on this.

And it’s easy to hear why. This is truly inspired.

Rating: 5