YOU DON’T LOVE ME. WE COULD GET TOGETHER. IT WON’T BE HARD TO DO.

 

Play this and start reading

It can be quite a blow when you summon the courage to profess love, but the other individual does not reciprocate. They have said as much (“ouch!”) or maybe they have slapped your wrist, taken up with a rival, and moved to another area code. You have “made yourself vulnerable” by saying “I love you” and all for what? Crickets. Or worse. This has likely happened to everyone at some point. So, how can you achieve comeuppance? Well, with some music, of course.

Jiminy Cricket but you’re good people, are you not? To boot, you like to have high times. It’s not like you to moon over these unjust weights. You want some guitar to be laid down. Some saxophone. Some keys. If you’re gonna be miserable, “ffs,” then you’re gonna do a little jumping, a little shaking. And lucky for us. Not only do a few musicians understand this selfsame plight, but they have gone into the studio—and sang about it! Swimmingly so. 

Tommy Raye

Thus, we turn to a couple of nearly-forgotten 45s, both A-sides, both from 1964, both soulful, to help us navigate these sticky situations. Although each record bears the title “You Don’t Love Me” they are indeed different songs, with one recorded in Memphis and one recorded in Los Angeles. We begin with Memphis singer Tommy Raye (above and above), who cut only one record in his short career. Neither projected optimism. The title of his B-side? “Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know.” (Ouch.)

From the very beginning, Raye knows that he’s not loved. His baby has left him and he’s got no place to go. If you’re recognizing “a familiar hand on the wheel” then you would be correct. The uncredited Elias McDaniel aka Bo Diddley shines through as one of two co-composers. As such, the guitar and keys drive hard. Meanwhile, Raye offers to get on his knees and pray, if this would somehow alter the cold treatment by the gal he so dearly cherishes. “Uh uh uhhh,” he sings. “Mm mm mmmm.” Kind of like “no” and “yes” simultaneously. Perhaps the outcome hangs in the balance. By kneeling in reverence, Raye may be closer than he thinks to getting “another shot.” This certainly represents one possible route forward.

Now play this! 

Enter one Z.Z. Hill, who enjoyed a much longer career in the music industry as a soul and blues singer. His singles and albums charted preposterously well and according to some, he “resuscitated the blues” in the 1980s. In his “You Don’t Love Me” song, an original, Hill just wants to talk things over. As with Raye, he too acknowledges a lack of affection, but, you will admit, not being loved was never so much fun. The horns blare and the background vocals form a kind of “Greek chorus” so that Hill can emphasize his position to the gal he admires. Yet Hill is onto something deeper. “You don’t love me,” he declares. Then quickly adds, “We can get together. It won’t be hard to do.” Of course. You don’t need love. For that. It’s an unexpected suggestion that may well work, by appealing to a more primal instinct, or simply through its shock value.

Devotees of this blog may recall a post from some years ago, when we provided a comprehensive guide to “who makes the love” during an amorous encounter. By “make the love,” we mean “a passionate kiss & etcetera.” We pointed out then, and we maintain today, that it can be surprising. One may think that they have made the love when, instead, they were made love to. Things are not so “clear cut” in the multiple arenas of “love making” and professing your love. [“btw” Are you a Professor of Love?]

Z.Z. Hill

Okay, so kneel down and pray or raise your eyebrows with an unexpected proposal. If neither works, then we suggest that you clear some space, cue up these songs, raise the volume, and press “play.” Once the bodies start moving, well, we believe that they may happily and tenderly collide.



Discographic Information

Tommy Raye. “You Don’t Love Me” A-side b/w “Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know” B-side. Pen Records 45-2PN-351. Memphis, Tennessee (1964.) Tommy Raye (vocals.) Remainder of musicians unknown. Compositional credit: Willie Cobbs and unlisted Elias McDaniel (aka Bo Diddley.)

Z.Z. Hill. “You Don’t Love Me” A-side b/w “If I Could Do It All Over” B-side. Kent Records K 404x45. Los Angeles (1964.) Z.Z. Hill (vocals.) Remainder of musicians are unknown but may have included Maxwell Davis (saxophone). Compositional credit: Z.Z. Hill.

SUPERMANIFESTO 2025.

This Supermanifesto begins painfully. My father Marty passed away in May, three months shy of his 92^nd birthday. He had been grappling with a “mystery illness” that taxed his breathing and strength. As a live-in caregiver, I witnessed his entire struggle firsthand. An inherently selfish part of me wants to share some difficult imagery with you and wants you to throw your arm around me, but I will spare you that imagery, even if you still might throw your arm around me.

Often I turn to aggressive music, punk or similar, when something outrageous has taken place, but I find myself partial to “Leaving Eden,” a 2012 ballad by the Carolina Chocolate Drops. Before they disbanded about 10 years ago, the Chocolate Drops reinvigorated many decades of traditional African American music. Too, Dom Flemons (playing guitar) is a friend of the ongoing “Liza Jane” documentary film project. 

A final word on my book Poor Gal, which chronicles the “Liza Jane” family of songs. It came out amidst my father’s illness, and at the time, I could not participate in any author events. Thus, I feel especially lucky for a couple of great 2024 reviews in the USA Today network and Washington City Paper, as well as a highly enjoyable interview at Bluegrass Jam Along by UK podcaster Matt Hutchinson. Huxley & Hiro Bookstore hosted the first book release event (about a year after Poor Gal appeared) at The Queen in Wilmington, Del., and I was really surprised when, this past October, Poor Gal received a “Special Recognition Award” from the ASCAP Foundation in its 55^th annual Deems Taylor / Virgil Thomson Book Awards. Many thanks to all (inter)(re)viewers and readers alike. 

My friend Casey Smith (“yjb”) printed this four-word poem when we hung out a couple months ago. It is a fabulous little broadside and Casey hails from a righteous people. Shall we pen some strophes in 2025? Well, well, well, yes we shall.

Photo Credit: Sausages (Mike Zito)

Up that alley, I will be back at the microphone with the improvisational collective Fanoplane, which will play Comet Ping Pong in Washington, D.C. on February 8^th. This will be, I believe, a “release event” for a CD of our live performance at the Black Cat, which went kablooey well. I am also looking to get back at the microphone with a “rock combo” where “combo” equals “orchestra plus vocals.” Let it be so. In twenty aught twenty-five.

A fifteen-second video of my dad trying to say “burglars.” He was raised in a Bronx tenement and never pronounced “ers” as anything other than “iz.” For instance, “big fierce tigers” would become “big fierce tigiz.” (My mother says “burglars” correctly but she was raised in Brooklyn.) To boot, Marty implies that anyone can “send in the burgliz” as if you were ordering a pizza, just burgliz instead.

Out searching for my friend the fox – or her offspring (a bloke of the species who engaged in a cross-taxonomy fling with a Welsh corgi) – when suddenly there was an incident. A red-tailed hawk flew into my face! Its full wing stole me upside the jaw. I do not think it saw me, but how could it not see me, it did or did not see me, it wing-slapped me and then soared, alit, it alit in a treetop. It was up there all statuesque, all proud of its powerful aviation and slippery withdrawal, while I flubbered my sensibilities into “recently slapped.” The incident was feathery but not pillowy, the wing was momentarily blinding and surprisingly firm. For all I know, it may have been a friendly gesture. Either way, I persevered. (And snapped this pic of the offending raptor.)

This family – buck, doe, fawn – are my favorite deer. The other “hoofed ruminants” are, like, bounding here, bounding there. Whatevs. These are my peeps.

I hardly drink anymore (demi-baddie) so I hope you can tell this is a special occasion – in wishing you a Happy New Year! May you and your loved ones be healthy and joyful in the months ahead.

This has been a raking, searching Supermanifesto. Even as I can try to joke-away some of the pain, “the pain,” observed poet Robert Creeley, “is not unpainful.” Indeed. It will carry into 2025 but we must also carry love, and adventurousness, and brawn into the new year. For me, the new year will present numerous uncertainties. Questions like “where?” and “what on earth?” However it goes, I hope to see you then, my friends, and if so, we will jump and shake. It would not be a true Blood And Gutstein without a couple of “shakers” by rock ‘n’ roll and R&B combos. If you are a ‘night creature’ then you might be content with the estimable mayhem above. But if you require something more, I dunno, “hewing,” then I have got you covered with “Pass the Hatchet, Part 2” (below.) As always, we here at B.A.G. suggest that you corral your sweetie pie. Play these songs loud. Jump high. Shake those shoulders out with maximum esprit de corps & if you need to describe your experience, I am here for you.

Discography for The Gigolo’s (sic) and Roger & The Gypsies

The Gigolo’s. “Night Creature” B-side b/w “Swingin’ Saints” A-side. Daynite Gig-1 / Gig-2, Phoenix, Arizona, 1960. Likely personnel: Bob Taylor (drums); Don Cole (guitar); Buddy Wheeler (bass); and Zeke Zoeckler (saxophone); other musicians, if any, unknown. Compositional credit: Bob Taylor and (first name unknown) Knight.

Roger & The Gypsies. “Pass The Hatchet (Part 2)” B-side b/w “Pass The Hatchet (Part 1)” A-side. Seven B 7001. New Orleans (1966). Compositional credit: Earl Oropeza, Ray Theriot, and Roger Leon Jr. Likely personnel: Eddie Bo (vocals) with Earl Stanley & The Stereos. [Earl Stanley (lead guitar); Roger Leon Jr. (guitar); Skip Easterling (organ); Johnny Pennino (sax); Li’l Joe Lambert (drums); Nicky Bodine (bass); Art Sir Van (piano); and Hector Nieves (maracas). Any additional musicians unknown.]

FIVE OF THE HARDEST SHAKERS WE KNOW: PREPARE TO BE THROTTLED (MUSICALLY).

Curtis Knight (center) with most of The    

Squires, including Jimi Hendrix (far left). 

Sometimes we require a good solid round of musical ravaging, do we not? As in, these five instrumentals from the Shakers Era will ravage you, Dear Reader. By “Shakers Era” we mean the largely underappreciated early rock ‘n’ roll and R&B that prevailed, roughly speaking, from the appearance of Elvis to the British Invasion. (Give or take: 1952 to 1954 to 1964 to 1966.) In those 10 to 12 to 14 years can be found some of the rowdiest strains ever produced in American music, much of it driven by shrieking saxophone or crunching guitar, or both. Most of the Shakers musicians would never achieve stardom; a handful who “cut their teeth” in this era would “make it big” but often enough “making it big” equated to soggy crooning as compared to the teeth-rattling properties of these formidable records.

Collectively, these five groups played surf, R&B, rockabilly, and hard rock from the earliest recording (1958) to the latest (1966). Yes, you will recognize some of the names. You may have a hard time reconciling a shaker such as “Buzz Saw” with the mushier output-to-come by its musicians: among them Glen Campbell and Seals and Crofts. Upon hearing “Hornet’s Nest,” you may remark that you had no idea there was a Jimi Hendrix before the Jimi Hendrix Experience shocked the world, but there was, and he played in a wild group known as Curtis Knight & The Squires. From the Grammy-winning Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame inductee Duane Eddy to the relatively unknown proto-punk group The Fender IV to the double trumpets of Frank Motley right here in Washington, D.C., all these records will fulfill the prophecy: namely, you will be shaken, throttled, ravaged, ravished, and picked apart until your bare bones rattle together simply while you wear a huge smile on your face.

Before you queue-up the music, we suggest that you situate yourself in a semi-dark enclave with appropriate libations at your fingertips. We doubly suggest that you invite your Sweetie Pie to join you. You may jump up, you may get down, you may be scared into each other’s arms. It is always more fun to be ravaged in the presence of a loved one, is it not?

intro: Behold the rock ‘n’ roll shaker “Peter Gunn” released by Duane Eddy in 1958 or 1959.

26-word song review: Twangy guitar will surely rescue us (right?) but no, it’s a ruse, the guitar crunches us instead, while saxophone drills gaping holes in the earth’s mantle.

how to dress for this song: In layers, that can be shed, as you flee.

after hearing this song you resolve to . . . . . build a funeral pyre for all the “with strings” albums that you own.

sub genre(s): Rockabilly. Hard rock. Tenor excess.

notes. Henry Mancini wrote the original “Peter Gunn” and recorded it with legendary shaker musician Plas Johnson on tenor sax. The Mancini version, of course, provided theme music for the television show of the same name but the Duane Eddy rendition goes well beyond Mancini, well beyond raunchy, to reach the upper levels of the registry known to humankind. Eddy’s 1986 remake of the song won him a Grammy, which we will not hold against him.

discography: Duane Eddy. “Peter Gunn” A-side b/w “Yep!” B-side. London Records, London American Recordings HLW 8879. United Kingdom, 1958 or 1959. (Also released on the Jamie label in the USA, in 1959 and1960, under the heading of Duane Eddy “His Twangy Guitar” and The Rebels). Likely personnel may have included all or some of the following: Duane Eddy (guitar); Steve Douglas (saxophone); Corkey Casey (rhythm guitar); Buddy Wheeler (electric bass); Jimmy Simmons (upright bass); Al Casey (piano); and Mike Bermani (drums). Compositional credit: Henry Mancini. Sources of information: Discogs; 45cat; Wikipedia pages for Duane Eddy and “Peter Gunn”; Only Solitaire Herald; Jazz Messengers.

intro: Behold the R&B shaker “Space Age” released by Frank Motley in 1959.

26-word song review: 3 minutes of sheer rocket fuel. 2 trumpets shrieking in the same cat’s mouth. 1 drummer thumping away in the wake of his own echoes. Blastoff.

how to dress for this song: In a helmet!

after hearing this song you resolve to . . . . . jettison your ballast.

sub genre(s): R&B. Washington, D.C. R&B. Extraterrestrial exotica.

notes: Part of the vibrant R&B scene in Washington, D.C., Frank Motley became one of the few American musicians adept at playing more than one horn simultaneously, alongside Rahsaan Roland Kirk and George Braith. Notably, Motley and his band backed transgender singer Jackie Shane in the Toronto-area hit “Any Other Way” from 1963, a slower piece that we highly recommend.

discography: Frank “Dual Trumpet” Motley and His Crew. “Space Age” A-side b/w “Everybody Wants a Flattop” B-side. DC 45-0415. Washington, D.C., 1959. Likely personnel: Frank Motley (dual trumpets); Curley Bridges or Jimmy Crawford (keyboards); and Thomas ‘TNT’ Tribble (drums); remaining musicians unknown. Compositional credit: Frank Motley and Lillian Claiborne. Sources of information: Discogs; 45cat; Wikipedia.

intro: Behold the rock ‘n’ roll shaker “Buzz Saw” released by The Gee Cees in 1961.

26-word song review: As the needle cuts through the disc, as the disc cuts through the turntable, so do the teeth of the music cut through us unrepentant scoundrels.

how to dress for this song: With safety goggles.

after hearing this song you resolve to . . . . . cut through brick with a butter knife.

sub genre(s): Rockabilly. Hard rock. Powertool grind.

notes: Apparently, Glen Campbell, Jim Seals, and Dash Crofts had been bandmates in the widely beloved shaker group The Champs, before leaving that group to cut this record. “Buzz Saw” would hardly predict the slower-paced material that would follow from Campbell and, separately, the duo Seals and Crofts. We wish this brief intersection had continued.

discography: The Gee Cees. “Buzz Saw” A-side b/w “Annie Had a Party” B-side. Crest 45-1088. Hollywood, California, 1961. [Also released by the same label as “Buzz Saw Twist.”] Likely personnel: Glen Campbell (guitar); Jerry Kolbrak also known as Jerry Cole (guitar); Jim Seals (Saxophone); and Dash Crofts (drums); other musicians may have been drawn from another group, The Champs, but are unknown. Compositional credit: Glen Campbell. Sources of information: Discogs; 45cat; Wikipedia pages for Glen Campbell and Jerry Cole.

intro: Behold the rock ‘n’ roll shaker “Mar Gaya” released by The Fender IV in 1964.

26-word song review: We consider this a punk record ahead of its time, we consider this a great punk record, for the sheer locomotion and irreverence of the musicians.

how to dress for this song: With a fedora, pince-nez, smoking jacket, and pocket watch.

after hearing this song you resolve to . . . . . weigh the benefits of the Atkins diet versus the Keto diet.

sub genre(s): Surf. Proto punk. Beach loco.

notes: According to “Google Translate” the phrase “mar gaya” means “died” or “petered (out)” in Hindi; “strong sea” in Haitian Creole, and “mar gaya” in Esperanto.

discography: The Fender IV. “Mar Gaya” A-side b/w “You Better Tell Me Now” B-side. Imperial 66061. Los Angeles, California, 1964. Likely personnel: Randy Holden (guitar); Joe Kooken (guitar); Mike Port (bass); and Bruce Miller (drums). Compositional credit: Randy Holden. Sources of information: Discogs; 45cat; Wikipedia. 

intro: Behold the R&B shaker “Hornet’s Nest” released by Curtis Knight and The Squires in 1966.

26-word song review: Okay, yes, the angry hornets, because their nest was poked, but who set them off, okay, yes, it was Jimi Hendrix, that would explain a lot.

how to dress for this song: In a beekeeper’s suit.

after hearing this song you resolve to . . . . . swarm!

sub genre(s): R&B. Hard rock. Apian blues.

notes: There are lots of disputes involving the Knight / Hendrix recordings that we choose not to fathom.

discography: Curtis Knight & The Squires. “Hornet’s Nest” A-side b/w “Knock Yourself Out” B-side. RSVP 1124. New York, 1966. Likely personnel: Curtis Knight (guitar); Jimi Hendrix (guitar); Marion Booker Jr. (drums); Ace Hall or Napoleon Anderson (bass); and Nate Edmonds (organ). Compositional credit: Jimi Hendrix and Jerry Simon. Sources of information: Discogs; 45cat; Wikipedia; Early Hendrix.

Steve Douglas, saxophonist on “Peter Gunn”

Frank Motley with two trumpets and His Crew. 

that’s all folks!

TAKE A WALK ON THE WILD SIDE: FIVE NEARLY-FORGOTTEN SHAKERS THAT WILL DRIVE US PERFECTLY BLOTTO INTO EACH OTHER’S ARMS.

The great Frankie Lee Sims

Spanning a seven-year period from 1957 to 1964, these five shakers (all of which contain a ‘walk’) will move our bodies in the proper ways of raucous festivity. You will hear R&B. You will hear rock ‘n’ roll. To wit, you may learn how walketh the camel, how walketh the Cossak [sic], how walketh the cat. You will hear rockabilly. You will hear exotica. You will hear “Whooo-ooo-ooo!” Those who sporteth-not bosoms and those who sporteth bosoms alike will shake their bosoms. Apparently, “In wildness is the preservation of the World.” This comes from a bloke named Thoreau, from an essay entitled (aptly enough) “Walking.” Above all else, these five nearly-forgotten songs will propel us forward in wildness (and jumping) and in so doing we shall preserve the world.

Intro: Behold “Walking With Frankie” — an R&B shaker by Frankie Lee Sims from 1957.

26-word review: Here, the walk is a search (if not a prayer) in the registry of a driving pace with mischievous sax, insinuating guitar, and the gal? Aloof.

Best time and situation to play: Ten minutes to midnight, when doubt flickers.

Calories burned during the ‘walk’: Enough “for us to get together and be as two” (listen to the song).

Notes: A cousin to Lightnin’ Hopkins and noted innovator within the idiom of postwar Texas blues, Sims released only a handful of 45s during his lifetime although he did record enough material (circa 1960) for at least one LP. He served three years in the Marine Corps during World War II. He was, therefore, a soldier & a musician. We thank him for both.

Discography: Frankie Lee Sims. “Walking With Frankie” A-side b/w “Hey Little Girl” B-side. Ace Records 527. 1957. Jackson, Mississippi. Likely personnel: Frankie Lee Sims (vocals and guitar); Jack White (tenor saxophone); Willie Taylor (piano); Ralph Morgan (bass); Jimmy Mullins aka Mercy Baby (drums). Other musicians, if any, unknown. Composition credit: Frankie Lee Sims and John Vincent. 

Intro: Behold “Camel Walk” — a rock ‘n’ roll shaker by The Original Starfires from 1959.  

26-word review: Each of us has four limbs, same as the camel, and the sultry instructions may be obvious, but nevertheless, what do we do with the hump?  

Best time and situation to play: Round about 2am when everyone is blotto.

Calories burned during the ‘walk’: Enough to cover the 3am pancakes & stout run.  

Notes: We detect a little bit of Fats Domino’s “Ain’t That A Shame” here and there — when the musicians decide to reassure us (somewhat). The ‘camel walk’ was a dance fad that reached regal heights with the likes of James Brown performing the moves onstage. There is also a surprising version (with church bells) by Magic Sam. Lots o’ camels. Lots o’ walks. Yep.

Discography: The Original Starfires. “Camel Walk” A-side b/w “Fender Bender” B-side. Pace Records P-101. 1959. New York. Musicians unknown [“Starfires” was a popular band name; some online speculation indicates that this band hailed from Florida.] Instrumentation likely includes lead and rhythm guitar, bass, drums, and saxophone. Composition credit: Jim Ford. [Also released on APT Records, a subsidiary of ABC Paramount.]

Intro: Behold “Cossak Walk” [sic]— an R&B shaker by Al Duncan from 1962.

26-word review: Cultures collide when an African American groove-drummer reimagines “The Twist” as a Cossack dance with an absolute MONSTER baritone sax prevailing. Wtf? as the kids say.

Best time and situation to play: To shock a party back into its fundamental mission, as when Sha Na Na or Billy Joel needs to be decisively cleansed from the air.

Calories burned during the ‘walk’: Enough to scale a peak in the Caucasus region.

Notes: Not to get too deep into the weeds, but Eugene Chadbourne writing in All Music Guide to the Blues calls this recording the work of an “obscure rockabilly dude” and not the legendary drummer Al Duncan, but we think Mr. Chadbourne is mistaken. This does appear to be the work of “one of the forefathers of groove” (and his collaborator Johnny Pate). We agree with Mr. Chadbourne on everything else, including how Duncan helped to develop the fundamental timekeeping or “metric feeling” of R&B.

Discography: Al Duncan. “Cossak Walk (Twisting in Moscow)” A-side b/w “Bawana Jinde” B-side. Stacy Records 933 XM. 1962. Chicago. Likely personnel: Al Duncan (drums) and Johnny Pate (bass); other musicians unknown. Composition credit: Johnny Pate.
 

Intro: Behold “Cat Walk”— a rock ‘n’ roll shaker by Tiny Fuller from 1963.

26-word review: Played ostensibly to drown-out the racketing sound of the freight train, the song startlingly projects the same locomotion that it’s meant to obscure. Which is which?

Best time and situation to play: 10pm when nothing has been broken (yet).

Calories burned during the ‘walk’: Enough to wrassle that swordfish on the record.

Notes: This rockabilly guitarist is nearly a complete mystery. What else can we say? The sound is not “tiny.” The harmonicaist cooperates. Perhaps the snippets of voice echo the yelps, etc., of western swing bandleader Bob Wills.

Discography: Tiny Fuller and His Combo. “Cat Walk” A-side b/w “Shock” B-side. Marlin Records 6301. 1963. Memphis, Tennessee. Personnel: Tiny Fuller (guitar); other musicians unknown. Composition credit: Tiny Fuller

Intro: Behold “I’ll Walk A Mile”— an R&B shaker by Bob Marriott and the Continentals from 1964.

26-word review: A pleading, howling, grooving piece that situates despair and triumph nearby as the singer confronts the dynamics of uncertainty: “take me in your arms” + “Whooo-ooo-oooo!”

Best time and situation to play: Anytime you’re in trouble with your sweetie pie. (Usually late at night after an understandable miscue.)

Calories burned during the ‘walk’: Enough to “walk a mile” at which point your sweetie pie will (usually) relent.

Notes: This was an integrated group, with an African American singer fronting a quartet of white musicians. The leader and his bandmates were inducted into the Kansas City Music Hall of Fame in 2021. Very deservedly so.

Discography: Bob Marriott and The Continentals. “I’ll Walk A Mile” B-side b/w “Night Train” A-side. Jayco Records 45-260701/02. 1964. Kansas City, Missouri. Likely personnel: Bob Marriott (guitar); Chuck Vallent aka Aubrey Washington (vocals); Larry Hensiek (drums), Cliff Manning (bass), and Ricky Lee (keyboards); maybe Butch Kelly (instrument unknown); other musicians, if any, unknown. Composition credit: Chuck Vallent.
 

Bob Marriott and the (fabulous!) Continentals

sources of information
Eugene Chadbourne. “Al Duncan.” AllMusic Guide to the Blues. Backbeat Books, 2003
45cat page for Al Duncan release on Stacy
Billboard May 19, 1962
Discogs page for Bob Marriott release on Jayco
Discogs page for The Original Starfires release on Pace
Discogs page for Tiny Fuller release on Marlin
Discogs page for Frankie Lee Sims release on Ace 
Edward M. Komara, editor. Encyclopedia of the Blues. Routledge, 2006
Jazz Discography page for Eddie Higgins (includes information on Al Duncan and Johnny Pate)
Kansas City Music Hall of Fame page for 2021 inductees, including Marriott and his band
Krazy Kat liner notes for Walkin’ With Frankie LP
Wikipedia page for Al Duncan
Wikipedia page for Frankie Lee Sims
Wirz discography page for Barrelhouse Records (establishes Tiny Fuller as a guitarist)
Wirz discography page for Frankie Lee Sims 

This “Walking” post is part of a double issue, Dear Reader. Do you need to RUN instead? If so, please see “Run Like Femke Bol.”

HAVE MERCY BABY: TWO SHAKERS THAT WILL STOMP AWAY ALL THE PLEADIN' & LYIN'.

 

Behold “Pleadin’” (above) and “Don’t Lie to Me” (below). A singer & drummer named Mercy Baby aka Julius W. “Jimmy” Mullins recorded these wild R&B numbers in the late 1950s on the now-defunct New Orleans label Ric Records. We suggest you medicate yourself appropriately and then consider the following 10 observations as you listen to these rollicking tracks.

10 Things to Consider About This Release

1. Mercy Baby is a pretty good stage name.
2. The drumming (by Mercy) and the hollering (by Mercy) are quite propulsive.
3. Notably, the guitar is played by one Frankie Lee Sims, a cousin of Lightnin’ Hopkins.
4. Never underestimate the B-side! Especially for the horns.
5. The topics – pleading and lying – seem to go hand-in-hand.
6. Apparently, pleading and lying can be great reasons to jump around!
7. Neither of these records prospered. Mr. Mullins himself died of a gunshot wound.
8. Once again great American music associates with tragedy and a paucity of commercial success.
9. These tunes appear in the very formidable Shakers Era.
10. Grab yr Sweetie Pie. Turn up the sound. & Shake everything on yr body!

Discographic Information

Mercy Baby. “Pleadin’” (A-side) b/w “Don’t Lie to Me” (B-side). Ric Records 955. Recorded in 1957 or 1958 in Jackson, Mississippi or in New Orleans. (Probably released in 1958; potentially released late as 1960). Likely personnel: Mercy Baby aka Julius W. “Jimmy” Mullins (drums and vocals); Jacquette Brooks (saxophone); Jack White (saxophone); Willie Taylor (piano); Frankie Lee Sims (guitar); Ralph Morgan (bass); other musicians, if any, unknown. Songwriting credit: Jimmy Mullins and Joe Ruffino.


Sources of Information

Discogs page for the release on Ric Records
45cat page for the release on Ric Records
Wikipedia page for Ric Records
Wikipedia page for Mercy Baby
Wikipedia page for Frankie Lee Sims
Cosimo Code page for Ric and Ron Records
Jeff Hannusch. I Hear You Knockin’: The Sound of New Orleans Rhythm and Blues. Swallow Publications, 1989
Jeff Hannusch. The Soul of New Orleans: A Legacy of Rhythm and Blues. Swallow Publications, 2001
Stefan Wirz discography page for Frankie Lee Sims

KID THOMAS AND MAC REBENNACK REMIND US TO SWING MADLY WITH THESE BLISTERING SHAKERS FROM 1959.

A young Mac Rebennack aka Dr. John

Behold “Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” and “Storm Warning”

Both of these shakers will rattle your marbles if you play them loudly and you should play them loudly, Dear Reader, so beware the jostled immies in your noggins. Both songs travel to us from 1959. The musicians who recorded them led vastly different lives. One died in obscurity and tragically at that. The other reached considerable heights. Nonetheless, both tunes predict mischief and both deliver. Amply. They deserve our devotion so let’s get to jumping! Shall we?

Kid Thomas – “Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” 

The man who would eventually call himself Kid Thomas was born Louis Thomas Watts in Mississippi, circa 1934. He moved to Chicago with his family at a young age and eventually began gigging in South Side clubs. In 1957, he convinced the mighty King Records to record several songs but the company only released one of them on its subsidiary label, Federal. This one single did not chart or generate any recognition for the harmonica-playing bluesman. Having gotten little traction in the Chicago music scene, Kid Thomas relocated to Los Angeles in 1959 where he cut “Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” b/w “You Are an Angel” on a micro-label, Transcontinental Records.

Easily one of the roughest-sounding, hardest-charging songs of its generation, the lyrics for “Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” may have been hollered in emulation of Little Richard, but the side occupies its own terrain somewhere between the jump blues efforts of Chris Powell and Jimmy Preston, the Chicago electric blues idiom, and the proto heavy metal developed by the controversial Pat Hare in the mid-1950s. The ferocious shouting, amped-up harmonica, and relentless guitar will rock the joint to-nite, to-morrow nite, and every other nite. Unfortunately, “Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” did not achieve commercial success.

Kid Thomas had few additional recording opportunities in Los Angeles and, by 1969, was working in L.A. as a landscaper. In that capacity, he accidentally struck a boy with his lawnmowing equipment in 1969 and killed him. A few months later, the boy’s father waited for Kid Thomas / Louis Watts outside a courthouse and shot him to death. There is just too much sadness in this outcome to swing this concluding note upward, but the ferocity of Kid Thomas’s record nevertheless ought to remind us about living large, larger-than-life, while we still have the opportunity to do so.

Mac Rebennack – “Storm Warning”

Yes, someone recorded a song under the absolutely devastating, winning name of Mac Rebennack. Born Malcolm John Rebennack, Jr., the fellow in question would go on to call himself by a moniker—Dr. John—you may very well recognize. A New Orleans native, Dr. John began his recording career as a teenager, and would come to blend the rich Nola music he inherited along with voodoo, psychedelia, and other genres. Eventually, he became a member of the famous group of session musicians known as The Wrecking Crew, a winner of six Grammys, and an inductee into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame. His albums such as Gris-Gris (1968) and Gumbo (1972) are well-known, important, and have received critical praise. We here at Blood And Gutstein especially appreciate Gumbo because he included a version of the folk song—“Little Liza Jane”—that features America’s favorite Poor Gal

Dr. John cut the instrumental “Storm Warning” as a seventeen-year-old guitarist in New Orleans. He molded it in the “Bo Diddley vein” and the song would go on to become a regional hit. We can understand why. First of all, Dr. John / Mac Rebennack discredits the entire notion of “the calm before the storm.” The song serves the dual purpose of predicting the “house rocking” to come as well as actually rocking the house. A “storm warning” generated by a New Orleans musician more than likely refers to a hurricane, and in this case, it’s the two saxophonists—Lee Allen on tenor and Alvin “Red” Tyler on bari—who do the hurricane-force blowing. In fact, Tyler really jumps the piece about halfway through. He unleashes some muscular phrasing upon the groovy ladder that Rebennack, et. al., offer via guitar, bass, keys, and drums.

As a teenager, Rebennack obeyed an impulse to rock hard. He didn’t reinvent instrumental rock ‘n’ roll with this piece but, at the same time, he substantially swung the proceedings. He also chose saxophone as the soloing instrument in a genre that was increasingly turning to the electric guitar for this kind of statement. Of course, coming from New Orleans, Dr. John would naturally choose a horn to represent the virtuosity of the soloist, a practice that another Nola musician—a cornetist / trumpeter named Louis Armstrong—established a few decades earlier and, in doing so, in establishing the importance of soloing, would change American music forever. 

Best Practices When Listening to These Songs

Dear Reader, we advise you to adopt the following protocols:
—Liquid refreshments (e.g., corn liquor) wouldn’t hurt, but swill these in moderation.
—Put on some sensible slacks! 
—Engage your core.
—Jump by squatting down low, then propelling yourself into the air. Repeat often.
—Above all else, invite your sweetie pie to join you. If you don’t have a sweetie pie, then invite a nice companion to join you. This hardy soul may—just may—turn into a sweetie pie, especially if you’ve observed all the other best practices given above. Oi.

Kid Thomas

Discographic Information

“Rockin’ This Joint To-Nite” A-side b/w B-side “You Are an Angel.” Transcontinental T-1012, Hollywood, Calif., 1959. Kid Thomas aka Louis Thomas Watts (vocals, harmonica). Other musicians, potentially including two guitars, drums, and any other instruments, unknown. Songwriting credit: Kid Thomas and Brad Atwood.

“Storm Warning” A-side b/w B-side Foolish Little Girl. Rex 1008, New Orleans, 1959. Likely personnel: Mac Rebennack aka Dr. John (guitar); Allen Toussaint (keyboards); Frank Fields (bass); Charles Williams (drums); Lee Allen (tenor sax); Alvin “Red” Tyler (baritone sax); and Melvin Lastie (trumpet). Other musicians, if any, unknown. Songwriting credit: Rebennack.

 
Sources of Information
Dr. John and Jack Rummel, Under a Hoodoo Moon, St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 1995
45cat page for “Storm Warning”
Album Liner notes page for a Dr. John anthology
Wikipedia page for Dr. John
Wikipedia page for Kid Thomas
AllMusic page for Kid Thomas
Bear Family Records page for Kid Thomas
Mike Leadbitter and Neil Slaven, Blues Records, January 1943 to December 1966, Hanover Books, 1968. (Contains session information for the 1959 Thomas recording.) 

YOU MAY WALK THE STREETS AT SUNDOWN LOOKING FOR (1) TROUBLE OR (2) A NEW SWEETIE PIE AFTER LISTENING TO THESE TORRID SHAKERS BY THE SCARLETS FROM 1959.

 

Behold “Park Avenue” (above) and “Stampede” (below), two instrumental shakers recorded in 1959 by The Scarlets, a group that would release only one 45 before morphing into another group, or disbanding, or running riot. To be fair, it’s always possible they power-walked or jogged riot. “Park Avenue” is the B-side, but we present it first because we prefer it just a smidgen better than “Stampede.” We admit that “Park Avenue” is brighter; “Stampede” is more malevolent. Still, we prefer the B-side, slightly. And in case you haven’t noticed, we specialize in bands like The Scarlets, who poked their heads out for just one recording session in 1959 — during that fertile Shakers Era between the appearance of Elvis and the British Invasion of the Beatles et. al.

After listening to “Stampede” we feel like walking the hot summer streets at sundown just looking to heist — or hoist — an armored car. It doesn’t matter, heist or hoist, we’re just fairly jacked up. With “Park Avenue” on the other hand, we want to walk the hot summer streets at sundown and find us some new sweetie pies. We want to tell them all sorts of tales about ourselves — “we just heisted an armored car” — “we just hoisted an armored car” — before whirling them about a dance floor to the strains of that phat saxophone. O, we have torrid affairs with our new sweetie pies, and O, our new sweetie pies have torrid affairs with us. (For couple of minutes, anyhow. . . . . It’s all very innocent fwiw.)

As for you, Dear Readers, skip the heisting and hoisting and go right for the new sweetie pies. We suppose you can keep your old sweetie pies if you must. The key thing is to medicate yourselves (in moderation) and prepare to jump (knee high?) when that phat sax arrives.

Discography and Personnel:
“Stampede” b/w “Park Avenue.” Dot Records 16004, Hollywood, Calif. (1959). Also released on Prince Records PR 1207, Hollywood, Calif. (1959). Likely personnel: Tony Lepard (drums); John Sanzone (guitar); Pete Antonio aka Pete Antell (lead guitar); Bert Salmirs (piano); Howard Herman (saxophone); unknown additional musicians may include a second saxophone and upright bass. Composition credits: Wally Zober, Bert Salmirs, and Pete Antonio (“Stampede”); Wally Zober and Bert Salmirs (“Park Avenue”).

Earlier on, the band may have been known as Tony Leopard and the Spots before changing to other names such as the Escorts and the Scarlets. Antell, Salmirs, and Herman went on to have lengthy careers in music. Sanzone seems to have been a Vietnam Veteran who served in the U.S. Navy. Not much is known about Lepard and any of the other musicians who may have played on these tracks.


Sources of information:
Discogs page for The Scarlets
Howard Herman website
Pete Antell website
AllMusic page for Bert Salmirs’ composing credits
Blogpost with some biographical information on John Sanzone
John Clemente. Girl Groups: Fabulous Females Who Rocked the World. Author House, 2013
September 28, 1959 issue of The Billboard

MALAGUEÑA FOREVER!

The Cuban composer plays a version from his 1954 album Lecuona  

Plays Lecuona. It would be the (relative) calm before the shakers. 

the king of 1947 cuban pop

Behold “Malagueña.” Cuban composer Ernesto Lecuona wrote the piano piece no later than 1931, with reference to the Spanish town Málaga. In 1947, LIFE magazine crowned Lecuona the king of Cuba’s popular music, and noted that “Malagueña” had been, by then, a hit in the United States for 16 years. (According to LIFE, Tin Pan Alley music publishing houses in New York had sold 100,000 copies of the composition every year since 1931.)

Performances and / or recordings by Marco Rizo, Caterina Valente, Violetta Villas, Connie Francis, and Stan Kenton — not to mention the royal figure of Count Basie — would continue to popularize the song among audiences all over the world. But we digress. After all, we here at Blood And Gutstein tend to specialize in a genre known as “Long Lost.” And the songs we tend to put forward will rattle your speakers. Therefore, let’s take a look at three examples of how rock ‘n’ roll transformed this Cuban composition into a banging shaker.

three rock ‘n’ roll extravaganzas

Ali Hassan aka Al Hazan. This song asserts itself immediately and jumps soon thereafter. With piano just as percussive as the drums, and played to excess in the upper register (we approve), the arrangement makes plenty of potent arguments, including:
     — “Given the hubbub, why don’t we engage in romance?”
     — “Yes, let’s.”
     — “Well, all reet then. Shall we remove our garments?”
     — “We shall.”
Not to be outdone, the guitar really wails. Thus, we have some percussive keys, phat drums (the train is coming), and blistering guitar. We have people ripping each other’s duds off, no less!

Session information: Ali Hassan (Al Hazan) producer piano; Sharky Hall (drums); Ray Pohlman (guitar); and Carol Kaye (fender bass). A-side “Malagueña” b/w B-side “Chopsticks.” Philles 103, Los Angeles, 1962. Compositional credit: Ernesto Lecuona. A-side “Malagueña” b/w B-side “Chopsticks.” Philles 103, Los Angeles, 1962. [Notably, the Philles label was founded by none other than the notorious Phil Spector and one Lester Sill. Also notably, Al Hazan played piano on the UK number one hit “Nut Rocker” by B. Bumble and the Stingers.]

The Wildtones. Little is known about this group, which may have cut only two songs under that name. On the one hand, “King Cobra” may be a bit deceptive, as the classic “Malagueña” riff runs nearly throughout the entire song (on guitar), and offers the other musicians a sturdy, hypnotic ladder upon which they can howl into or batter their instruments. On the other hand, “King Cobra” is probably an apt summary for the mayhem that ensues, especially the venomous saxophone. Or, “blistering,” if you will, and you will. Call the drumming “surfy,” call the horn “borderline avant,” call the guitar “twangy” (or Duane Eddy-esque) and then you’ll have some estimation of this eclectic cacophony!

Session information: The Wildtones. Musicians unknown. A-side “King Cobra” b/w B-side “Mendelssohn Rock.” Tee Gee 105, New York, 1958. Writing credited to “Ford” and “Newman.” [Notably, Tee Gee records was owned by George Goldner, a pioneer record producer who recorded, interestingly enough, the song “Gee” by The Crows, which became a hit on both the R&B and pop charts.]

The Trashmen / Los Trashmen. These Midwest rockers present a clear-cut surf treatment of the song. It reverberates heavily with ghost waves (we approve) and behaves suspensefully before the lead guitarist slashes into the proceedings. As a “building” or “climbing” or “burrowing” song, we find the musicians drifting into and out of numerous effervescent idioms. The “smoothest” cover of the three rock ‘n’ roll versions, don’t underestimate this song’s edgy properties and virtuosic musicianship. It propels the surfer, after all, through the barrel of a breaker!

Session information: The Trashmen. Likely personnel: Troy Andreason (guitar), Dal Winslow (guitar), Robert Reed (bass), Steve Wahrer (drums). The song was recorded in 1963 or early 1964, and would be released in LP, EP, and 7-inch formats in the U.S. and abroad. For the original LP release, see Surfin’ Bird, Garrett Records, January 1964. Otherwise, we have Los Trashmen, Gamma 578 A-side “Malagueña Surf” b/w B-side “Mi Cuate” (Mexico, 1965). [Speaking of the band’s flagship song, “Surfin’ Bird,” it rose to No. 4 in the charts in 1963-64, and would go on to be covered by several bands, including the Ramones and the Cramps, and appear in film, television, video games, and other extravaganzas.]

the upshot

Rock musicians have always repurposed songs from other eras and genres. This continued, for sure, with “Malagueña.” These bands rocked all of our pronouns: we, us, me, I, and you. Now that you’ve been rocked, Dear Reader, it’s up to you how to proceed. We always suggest moderation here at Blood And Gutstein. Thus, you could jump, there, all by yourself, if you need an aerobic workout. You could surf if your abode abuts (!) saltwater climes. Or you could telephone your sweetie pie and propose romance. We have found that mere mention of the song title — “Malagueña” — tends to propose romance. Yes, you can text, ping, and DM, if you must, and if you must, just propose romance responsibly and (always) bear the gift of music, wink wink. 

sources of information:
Billboard advertisement (for Surfin’ Bird) January 11, 1964
Black Cat Netherlands page for Al Hazan
Discogs entry for “King Cobra” by The Wildtones
Discogs entry for Lecuona Plays Lecuona, 1954-55
Discogs entry for “Malagueña” by Ali Hassan / Al Hazan
Discogs entry for “Malagueña Surf” by The Trashmen
LIFE article on Cuban music Oct. 6, 1947
Wikipedia entry for George Goldner
Wikipedia entry for “Malagueña”
Wikipedia entry for Surfin’ Bird (album)
Wikipedia entry for “Surfin’ Bird” (song)

THE SHAKERS ERA: A NEARLY FORGOTTEN PERIOD THAT PRODUCED SOME OF THE ROWDIEST AMERICAN MUSIC EVER RECORDED.

Paul Gonsalves playing at Newport, 1956.

When the featured saxophone player for the Duke Ellington orchestra introduced his solo for “Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue” at the 1956 Newport Jazz Festival, a ‘platinum blonde’ concertgoer provoked the crowd to dance in the aisles.  The raucous scene inspired the soloist Paul Gonsalves to blow through twenty-seven rollicking choruses, a famous and heroic effort that singlehandedly revitalized the orchestra’s slumping fortunes. In an interview with the New York Times many years later, the dancer, Elaine Anderson, also credited Count Basie drummer, Jo Jones, for emboldening her and the Ellington musicians, by rapping a rolled-up newspaper near the bandstand. “I went mad,” Anderson said, referring to the uninhibited wildness of her dancing. “And the madder I went, the madder Paul Gonsalves went.”

Many great studio and live jazz performances had yet to be recorded, and many great bandleaders would realize (one or more) signature moments in the ten years following Ellington’s triumph at Newport: Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue and John Coltrane’s Village Vanguard material are but two examples. If jazz had coined a soaring new idiom—bepop—that would fuel post-war exhilaration, it would arguably become a more abundant form in the 1950s and 1960s, one that would ultimately interrogate convention with such discordant effects, it might’ve extinguished itself with furious abandon. Eventually, listeners would charge toward rock ‘n’ roll. (Have you heard of this phenomenon?) They charged, did these listeners, toward Elvis Presley of the U.S.A. and The Beatles of Great Britain. The Rolling Stones would emerge. Bob Dylan, too. These titans prospered. But surely, this wasn’t the only racket in town.

Kind devotees of this blog may recollect my jump blues post from a few years ago, one that attempted to summarize my lengthy foray, as anthologist, into that impressive, if nearly forgotten music. During said decade-long endeavor, I would encounter “other infectious tunes” that couldn’t be included, stylistically, but not for lack of merit. The descriptor, “titty shaker”, might’ve accompanied a given song, and whether the term blustered into vulgarity, it probably distorted some of the fine musicianship on display: saxophone, guitar, piano, and/or organ work. Jean-Paul Sartre, in his 1938 novel, Nausea, would banish such talk—“My titties, my lovely fruits”—to the head-swimming dolor of a Paris café, and besides, dear reader, I shake to this music, I, a man who sporteth not shakable bosoms. Let us not designate a sex, a cleavage. The person shakes! Elaine Anderson (as well as the entire Newport Jazz Festival) still shakes to the Paul Gonsalves saxophone workout! 

  The ‘platinum blonde’ Elaine Anderson dancing. 

Once the jump blues compilation neared completion, I experienced the melancholy of discovering no new (old) music. Noting my mopey disposition, a friend encouraged me to double back. Thinking that I might modestly compile two hours of these “Shakers”, I embarked, instead, upon another voyage rife with eventful discovery. I would often admit “I can’t believe what I’m hearing” in response to a string of obscure recordings, many of which don’t exist in digital platforms such as iTunes or Pandora. I commenced to acquire these songs, twenty-five at a time, until I’d amassed 600 of them, produced by 500 different leaders or bands. They fit, broadly, into two categories—Shakers and R&B Shakers—yet most of the songs share traits, virtually none of the music offers any suggestion of burlesque, more than half the songs don’t employ lyrics. Most of the tunes were recorded between 1958 and 1964, an important little period that would give way to the British Invasion.

Before we continue, please understand that I have no idea what I’m talking about. The many genres (or subgenres) represented in my Shakers compilation—early rock, instrumental rock, instrumental rockabilly, early R&B, garage, surf, Latin, reggae, soul, northern soul, early punk, and so forth—each require a substantial volley of scholarly activity, in order to comprehend various dynamics. Some of the leaders and bands—Link Wray, Duane Eddy, Sandy Nelson, Johnny and the Hurricanes, Bill Black’s Combo, King Curtis, Gary “U.S.” Bonds, Huey “Piano” Smith, Barry White, Little Willie John, and a few others—would deservedly garner broader attention for their vibrancy, but the vast majority of the Shakers compilation features nearly-forgotten fast-cookers.  I’ve listened to a lot of records, but I’m undoubtedly missing a lot of records. And if I’ve learned one thing, it’s never to overlook the B Side.

I’ve previously posted songs by J.C. Davis (“The Splib, Part 1”), Frank de Rosa (“Irish Rock”), Willene Barton (“Rice Pudding”), The Royaltones (“Royal Whirl”), and the luminous Plas Johnson (“Downstairs”). Some of my other favorites include The Yum Yums (“Gonna Be a Big Thing”), The Monitors (“Mama Linda”), Piano Slim (“Squeezing”), Cozy Cole (“Cozy’s Mambo”), Big Bo Thomas and the Arrows (“Big Bo’s Iron Horse”), the Nomads (“Icky Poo”), The Saxons (“Camel Walk, Part 1”), The Revelairs (“Ridin’ High”), Al Duncan (“Cossak Walk”), and The Ricco-Shays (“Damascus”). These are but a few of the outrageous dancers, stompers, rockers, grinders, head-bouncers, groovers, crawlers, swingers, walkers, and shakers. I deejay off this music just about every Thursday night at the Black Squirrel in Adams Morgan. “Come on down”, as they say.

Today, I’ve posted a Shaker from 1962 or 1963, “The Sinner”, by the Terri-Tones, and an R&B Shaker from 1960, “A Night with Daddy G, Part 1”, by the Church Street Five. 

“The Sinner” by the Terri-Tones (1962 or 1963).

A Canadian group, the Terri-Tones were named for leader Terry Kelly, who described the band’s chief output as “R&B-sourced instrumentals.” Wives and girlfriends of the musicians can be heard whispering “Sinner” just before the band launches into a piece that defies category, but includes unequal parts of frantic horn charging off a cliff, guitar boogie shuffle, early chime of  surf constellation, western (movie) motif, and the gnawing bells of incisive realization. It occasionally slows for the band’s benefit as well as ours. The A-side, “Go”, appears in the Shakers compilation as well. (Wives and girlfriends holler “Everybody go!” just before the band rockets forward.) The Terri-Tones played in Canada and the States, and backed Dick Clark’s Caravan when it toured through their burgh. To this blogger’s knowledge, they recorded only two songs, even as they demonstrate a greater knowledge of “the sinner” than everybody else. 

“A Night with Daddy G, Part 1” by the Church Street Five (1960).

Gene “Daddy G” Barge founded The Church Street Five, which recorded for Legrand Records in Norfolk, Va. A saxophonist who admired Lester Young and played on Chuck Willis’ hit, “C.C. Rider” and Jimmy Soul’s hit, “If You Wanna Be Happy”, among others, Barge also played with heavyweights Bo Diddley, Jackie Wilson, and Muddy Waters, among others, and knew everybody. (Even as he is Gene Barge, with a G, his nickname derives from a Norfolk pastor.) Barge never prospered off his recordings, and taught high school in Norfolk before working for Chess Records in Chicago. “A Night With Daddy G” was divided into two parts, an A-side and a B-side, (both are R&B Shakers), before Gary “U.S.” Bonds recorded lyrics to the song, by then repurposed as “Quarter to Three”, an eventual number one hit. Barge honks wildly on “Quarter to Three”, “A Night with Daddy G”, and everywhere else. There is no finer party. Amen. 

Sources of Information:

New York Times article on Elaine Anderson
Wikipedia entry for album Ellington at Newport
45cat listing for The Terri-Tones 

45cat listing for The Church Street Five 

Brock University Hearabouts page for the Terri-Tones 

Bill Dahl page for Gene Barge 

Wikipedia page for Gene Barge 

Virginia Living article“A Nite with Daddy G” 

Nadine Cohodas book Spinning Blues into Gold: The Chess Brothers and the Legendary Chess Records 

Jean-Paul Sartre book Nausea 

Likely personnel for “The Sinner”: Terry Kelly (bass), Wayne Malton (keyboards), Kerry Cornelius (saxophone), Tony Langlaan (drums), and Gary Delaney (guitar).

Likely personnel for “A Night with Daddy G”: Gene Barge (saxophone), Nabs Shields (drums), Junior Fairley (bass), Willie Burnell (piano), Leonard Barks (trombone), and voices.