About This Time 70 Years Ago... It's The Hits Of January-ish 1955!

The Hottest Hit(s) On The Planet…

“The Wallflower” by Etta James, and…

“Dance With Me Henry” by Georgia Gibbs

Q: “HEY BABY!!!
WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO?
TO MAKE YOU LOVE ME TOO”

A: YOU’VE GOT TO ROLL WITH ME, HENRY!!!

In my last dispatch from the 1950s I told the story of how LaVern Baker took out a life-insurance policy before going on a flight – pop stars dying whilst flying being something of an occupational hazard at the time – putting Georgia Gibbs as her beneficiary, arguing that without LaVern to copy, Georgia would be without a career.

Why? Because Georgia had covered – or, more accurately shamelessly-copied – LaVern’s big hit “Tweedle Dee”, creating a peppy, and rather annoying version of it, which, even more annoyingly, became a bigger hit than LaVern’s herself. Largely because Georgia was white and LaVern was not.

Here’s LaVern looking suitably unimpressed.

And I believe that this was grossly unfair to Georgia Gibbs. For LaVern wasn’t the only R&B star that Georgia was copying in 1954/1955.

Georgia Gibbs was also copying Etta James!

Etta James (born Jamesetta) was only 17 at the time, but growing up quickly was in her blood.

Her mother had given birth to Jamesetta when she was just 14, possibly after a dalliance with famous pool hustler Minnesota Fats – aka New York Fats, aka Broadway Fats, aka Chicago Fats, aka Double-Smart, aka Triple-Smart Fats – a man Muhammad Ali once admitted was better at boasting than himself. But no-one knows for sure since Fats was off the next morning looking for the next sucker in the next pool hall. Jamesetta’s mother was off, too. Jamesetta’s mother was so rarely at home during her childhood that Jamesetta referred to her as “The Mystery Lady.” Jamesetta stayed with foster parents instead. This was not an improvement.

Given such a tough upbringing, in South Central L.A., you might hope that music would be a refuge for young Jamesetta … but of course, you would be mistaken.

The musical director of the Baptist Church choir in which Jamesetta sang lead, James Earle Hines – no relation to James Earl Jones – used to punch her in the chest so that she’d sing from the diaphragm.

Her foster father would wake her up in the middle of the night and beat her until she sang for his poker buddies.

Jamesetta’s mother reappeared on the scene during her teens – after Jamesetta’s foster mother had died – and together they moved to San Franscisco, where Jamesetta formed a doowop group called The Creolettes, so named because they were all quite light skinned.

That’s when she met Johnny Otis.

Johnny Otis identified as Black. Sort of.

He lived in a Black neighbourhood in Berkeley, and that was the culture he embraced.

But his birth name was Ioannis Alexandres Veliotes (or, in the original Greek, Ιωάννης Αλέξανδρος Βελιώτης). When both his school counsellors and the police advised him to stop hanging out with the Black kids, Johnny made a big life decision: “that if our society dictated that one had to be black or white, I would be black.”

Throughout the 40s and into the 50s, Johnny would be a major background figure in Black pop; one of those people who always pop up at crucial junctures in the careers of more famous R&B stars such as Big Mama Thornton and The Coasters. Sometimes he’d have an actual pop star moment himself such as when he had a hit with “Harlem Nocturne.” (it’s an 8)

In the early 50s, Johnny had also had a baby boy: Shuggie Otis.

Being such a music industry mover and shaker, always on the lookout for the next hit, Johnny Otis wanted to write an answer song to Hank Ballard and The Midnighter’s “Work With Me Annie”, a song we’ve discussed before. This is where Jamesetta came in. Except that she wasn’t Jamesetta anymore.

Johnny had given her a brand new name: Etta James. And a brand new duo of backing singers The Peaches.

Etta was still extremely young – only 16. So Johnny demanded she get her parents sign a permission form before he turned her into star, a permission form that Etta forged because her mother was in prison, and – other than a sneaking suspicion that he was a pool shark – she had no idea who, or where, her father was.

Johnny wanted to write and record an answer song to “Work With Me, Annie”, because it had been he who had discovered The Midnighters back when they were called The Royals. Back before Hank had joined them. Johnny had written some of their early songs, such as “Every Beat Of My Heart.”

Although it would later become a big hit for Gladys Knight and The Pips, nobody cared for it back then.

Nobody cared about The Royals/Midnighters at all before Hank turned up and started singing saucy songs.

Johnny wanted to write and record an answer song, because answer songs were hot in 1955. “Work With Me Annie” already had quite a few of them. The Midnighters had recorded one themselves – an answer record to their own record! – called “Annie Had A Baby.” But none was as big as “Roll With Me Henry”; or “The Wallflower”, as ended up being printed on the label.

“The Wallflower” was a delightful record! Just as delightful as “Work With Me, Annie” itself. As it should be given that it’s so much the same song that Hank got a song-writing credit. It had a blistering saxophone solo, and thumping drums, with reverb out the wahoo! It had an always-welcome-guest-appearance by Richard Berry:

The same dude as on The Robin’s “Riot In Cell Block #9”, and effectively the R&B Tony The Tiger – playing the role of hapless Henry, asking Annie/Etta what he has to do, to make Annie/Etta love him too.

And it has Etta herself sounding absolutely charming; full of life, and horny-as-hell every time she squeals “ooooh-weee!!!!” No wonder it was a hit!

Looked at from another perspective however, the fact it was a hit was a minor miracle. Afterall, it was called “The Wallflower”, a terrible title for the song. Wallflowers are mentioned a grand total of one time: “you gotta swing it by the hour, or you gonna be a wallflower.” Furthermore, the title makes it sound as though Etta is the wallflower, an unlikely scenario, and not the case at all!

But “roll” was considered too sexual for the times. As though radio wouldn’t be able to handle the sound of a teenage Etta James singing about sex.

This feels deeply unfair:

Etta is clearly singing about dancing.
Etta specifies that Henry has to get lead out of his feet, not his… you know.
Also, if he wants some romancing, he better learn some dancing.

This is some pretty innocent stuff. If Johnny was aiming for the smut market, he missed it by a mile.

Nonetheless, it was a big hit. At least in the Black community. Big enough that Hank Ballard And The Midnighters recorded an answer song. That’s right, they recorded an answer song to an answer song of their own song! That’s marketing genius! Who knew how much further they could have taken this, if they had not called the whole thing of by titling the record: “Henry’s Got Flat Feet (Can’t Dance No More).”

Then Georgia Gibbs had to come along and ruin it all. Again!

For, once again, Georgia’s version was bigger. Partly this was due to Georgia being white. Partly it was due to being signed to a major record company who could afford to take out whole page advertisements in Billboard and Cash Box (it could of course be argued that the two factors were interrelated). And partly it was due to the record being in possession of a better title: “Dance With Me, Henry.”

No ”The Wallflower” nonsense. No lingering doubts about what “roll” might mean.

“Dance With Me Henry” was clearly about dancing.

Although it was also about talking. Georgia required Henry to talk with her as well as dance. So it’s not all about dancing. But it is mostly about dancing.

Whilst Georgia’s version of “Tweedle Dee” had been a deliberate attempt to create an identical copy of the LaVern Baker original. Right down to hiring the same musicians. But you can’t say that about “Dance With Me Henry.” I mean, you can say that about “Dance With Me Henry.” Many people have said that about “Dance With Me Henry”. But those people have clearly not listened to “Dance With Me Henry.”

“Dance With Me Henry” includes a section where they chant “ROCK! ROCK! ROCK!” a lot, as though it’s “Shake Rattle & Roll”, whilst banging the piano like it’s “Rocket 88.” “Dance With Me Henry” includes a key change at the end. “Dance With Me Henry” includes a great big finale, ending with a final shout out of “ROCK!” “The Wallflower” has none of this.

None of which is cool, exactly. Actually, it’s not cool at all. It’s a version of rock’n’roll designed to look and sound like a television commercial. Or like a high school musical. In which Georgia is the irredeemably uncool teacher who desperately wants to be seen as being hip with the kids.

Etta is infinitely cooler. But Georgia’s version would get played on white pop radio – where it fit nicely next to “Mr Sandman” and “Papa Loves Mambo” – on television, and ultimately, onto the record players of small-town America. But nobody listens to it anymore.

Etta James’ “The Wallflower” is a 9.

Georgia’s “Dance With Me Henry” is a 6.

Meanwhile, in R&B Land …

“I Got A Woman” by Ray Charles

Ray Charles did have a woman. Her name was Della. But Ray called her Bea. They got married whilst “I Got A Woman” was racing up the charts. It wasn’t exactly a traditional wedding. It was in a room full of junk. They were in a bit of a hurry. Ray was on tour and Della was about to give birth to their child. It was a boy. They called him Ray Charles Jr.

Della was good to Ray.

She stayed with him for more than two decades, which is a pretty Herculean effort.

I can’t tell you whether she fussed or grumbled, but I can tell you that there would have been a lot for her to fuss and grumble about. There was all the heroin that Ray took. There were all the other women that Ray slept with whilst on tour. Ray had a lot of women. And Ray was always on tour. Including on the night that Ray Charles Jr. was born.

And Ray recorded “I Got A Woman” whilst on tour. They were so desperate to find a place to record it that they used a local radio station. The sessions needed to go on pause every hour, on the hour, so that the station to give a news broadcast.

And Ray wrote “I Got A Woman” whilst on tour. He was on tour with Ruth Brown. She was having a hit with “Mambo Baby” (it’s a 6), demonstrating that the mambo wasn’t just for Perry Como and Rosemary Clooney-types anymore, it had reached the R&B scene.

Well, maybe “write” is the wrong word. Ray heard “It Must Be Jesus” by The Southern Tones on the radio – he was always scanning the dial looking for gospel music – and decided it needed new, sexier lyrics. Sexier lyrics than: “there’s a man, going around, taking names, it must be Jesus.” Maybe. Or maybe it was Senator Joseph R. McCarthy.

So obviously, Ray wrote a song based on “It Must Be Jesus”, about a woman, way over town, that’s good to Ray. I don’t think that I need to spell out in exactly which manner this woman is good to Ray. Let’s just say: Della Bea would be unlikely to approve.

We can get a fair idea of what is going on between Ray and his woman by the other song that Ray used to piece together his masterpiece: “Living On Easy Street”, a 1938 B-side by Big Bill Broonzy:

A country-blues singer who – since there wasn’t a lot of money in country-blues during the Depression, even if, as Big Bill did, you release a mind-boggling number of records – also worked in a grocery store and as a jail janitor.

“Living On Easy Street”, therefore, is probably not based on Big Bill’s own life experience.

On “Living On Easy Street”, Big Bill has many more than just one woman:

He left ten women in the South
Five in the North
He’s got four in the East
And three in the West.

He’s got one little woman, who never puts on a dress! He don’t have to work. He wears diamonds every day. All of Big Bill’s women, they do what he says. Why is Big Bill so lucky? He’s got a “swing” that “can’t be beat.” They don’t call him Big Bill for nothing.

“I Got A Woman” comes from a similar place. It’s not quite as braggadocios, but it’s not far off either. Ray sounds like a guy who has hit the jack pot: commitment-free sex, guaranteed cash flow. Now, I ain’t sayin’ Ray is a gold digger… but… he’s certainly found himself a sugar momma.

Best of all, Ray’s woman knows that a woman’s place is in her home. That last line was probably the least controversial at the time, but it’s probably the most controversial now.

Also controversial was the fact that Ray was boasting about his good luck over the top of what was obviously – even if you didn’t specifically identify the song as “It Must Be Jesus”, and nobody did, since the record wasn’t a hit – gospel music.

Even Big Bill had reservations about that! “He’s mixing the blues with spirituals.” Big Bill complained “I know that’s wrong.”

So, if mixing the blues with spirituals was frowned upon, how about, mixing with the blues with spirituals with white pop? Because naturally a white woman would cover “I Got A Woman.” In this case, that white woman was Jo Stafford.

And in this case, they would make some changes. Obviously, they’d have to. They changed it to – I’m not making this up – “I Got A Sweetie.”

(sample lyrics: “He’s my dreamboat, yes indeed”)

It was… moderately successful. (it’s a 3…)

Ray, meanwhile, decided that the best way to follow-up mixing the blues with spirituals, was to do it again, but this time with a spiritual that everyone knows: “This Little Light Of Mine”, turning it into “This Little Girl Of Mine.”

Once again, like “I Got A Woman”, Ray seems almost as excited about the financial benefits associated with his girl, than the physical (it’s a 6.)

It wasn’t a hit. But that’s okay. Ray would soon have lots more.

“I Got A Woman” is a 9.

Meanwhile, in Pop Standards Land:

It’s “Teach Me Tonight” by the DeCastro Sisters?

Is it all a metaphor? The teacher simply a man much more experienced in the ways of love? Or is this a literal student-teacher relationship? One where they need to wait until graduation, so that it won’t be utterly inappropriate? So that the teacher won’t get fired? Or, if we are talking about a high school student-situation here, potentially jailed?

The whole song is full of teaching references: the sky is a blackboard. The chalk, a shooting star. He’s teaching her the ABCs. There’s one line – “one thing isn’t very clear, my love, should the teacher stand so near, my love” – that ought to have the principal particularly concerned.

Or is this another “Baby It’s Cold Outside” situation in which what seems like an innocent song, could – upon closer inspection – arguably be depicting date rape and drink spiking, but then – on even closer inspection – be more or less innocent after all?

One thing at least is not in question: “Teach Me Tonight” is about sex. About, one assumes, losing your virginity. None of the performers known for “Teach Me Tonight” have ever convincingly portrayed being a virgin. Even in the 50s, a virgin pop star was hard to find.

And Doris Day, for whatever reason, appears never to have recorded a version.

“Teach Me Tonight” had been written a couple of years earlier, by Sammy Cahn. Who was about halfway through his run of writing lyrics that Frank Sinatra might cynically like to croon – “Saturday Night (Is The Loneliest Night Of The Week)”, “Until The Real Thing Comes Along” – although he also wrote “It’s Been A Long, Long Time”, the unofficial theme song to the end of World War II, so he could be sincere when he wanted to.

In this case Sammy had good reason to sound flippant; he wrote the lyrics because his manager asked him to help out the composer – Gene de Paul – who was feeling depressed. Sammy helped him write “Teach Me Tonight” to try and cheer him up.

“Teach Me Tonight” was initially recorded by Janet Brace, a name you will probably never hear of again. And then the song disappeared. That is, until the De Castro Sisters got their hands on it.

That The De Castro Sisters had the big hit version seems weird now. It probably seemed weird then, since – as is so often the case – it was originally the B-side. On a country-and-western label – Abbott – that was trying to go pop. The fact that the De Castro Sisters – three sisters from Cuba – were on a country-and-western label gives you an idea of how low a priority they were.

For some reason the De Castro Sisters’ version of “Teach Me Tonight” got America excited, and suddenly everybody was recording it.

Sammy found out that his little song had become a big hit, because he was hanging out at Dean Martin’s place one day when Dino got a phone call from his record company telling him to get down to the studio and record his version before it was too late. That’s how fast the song was blowing up!

As best as I can tell, Dino never did record “Teach Me Tonight”, or at least not release it as a single, but everyone else did: Jo Stafford, Anne Shelton, Nat King Cole… it’s not exactly a guy’s song though, is it? Probably best that Dino didn’t record it.

Although Frank did. A few decades later.

That wasn’t particularly credible. Frank had to call Sammy up to ask him to write some new lyrics for that one.

Maybe Dino was the performer being referred to by Cash Box in this article complaining that there were just too many cover records on the market!

(Dino was recording a lot of covers about this time, “Mambo Italiano”, “The Naughty Lady Of Shady Lane”, “Let Me Go Lover”… but they were only getting released in the UK and Australia, perhaps a precursor to a time when Hollywood stars would make embarrassing advertisements that were only seen in Japan)

I think we can all agree that, amongst all of the covers of “Teach Me Tonight”, there is only one that is definitive:

And that is Dinah Washington’s, with all of her dramatic pausing and conversational phrasing.

Such relaxed-phrasing is essential when you are dealing with a song where each line of a verse ends exactly the same way, and the rhyme is in the middle of the line. You need to sound playful, rolling the rhyme around like a bouncing ball. Dinah does that.

Dinah also changed the lyrics, to make them sexier, changing “right down” to “roll down to the X Y Z of it.” “Rolling,” as we have just established, very clearly meaning sex (Dinah’s version of “Teach Me Tonight” is an 8)

So what was it about the DeCastro Sisters? Who did indeed sing “right down”, not the sexier “roll down” option.

Perhaps part of it was in the way they looked. And how they acted. And the height of their hair.

Although usually described as a Cuban version of the Andrews Sisters, they were also taken under the wing of Carmen Miranda. They may never have worn a fruit basket on their heads, but they always looked as though it wouldn’t take much to convince them to. There’s a reason why, when he was told that it was the DeCastro Sisters who had the big hit, Sammy cried “oh no, not the DeCastro Sisters!”

Or maybe his dismay had something to do with other aspects of their act. Such as the fact that they think their version of “Heartbreak Hotel” (they sing it after “Teach Me Tonight” here) is hilarious. I’m not even sure what the joke is supposed to be. Is that supposed to be an Elvis impersonation?

That the DeCastro Sisters might one day have a hit was all but certain. They had connections for one thing. And money. Admittedly most of their connections – and quite possibly most of their money – was stuck in Cuba, which is why they were signed to a small-time country and western label.

But within Cuba, their father was a big deal.

He owned Cuba’s first radio station.

Father De Castro was so much of a big deal that he was put in charge of building a canal straight through Cuba before Castro – not to be mistaken for DeCastro – turned up and put an end to all of that.

He also put an end to the DeCastro estate and associated mansion. It’s now the Chinese Embassy.

But that was all in the future. Fidel and Che wouldn’t take over Cuba for couple more years. Now The DeCastro Sisters were taking over America, via a show at the Copacabana, helping to make it the hottest spot north of their hometown, and via “Teach Me Tonight.”

“Teach Me Tonight” would only be a blip for the DeCastro Sisters. As will become apparent in future posts from 1955, they were soon to face a swell of sister-acts. Being the Cuban-Andrews-Sisters would no longer be enough. Particularly when they scuttled any momentum they might have had by following “Teach Me Tonight” with “Boom Boom Boomerang”, which is just as silly as you’d imagine:

Even before I tell you that Thurl Ravenscroft – Tony The Tiger himself! – is doing the doo-wop “boom” sounds! (it’s a 4.)

A couple of the years later things would get so desperate that they would jump upon the cha-cha craze with “Teach Me Tonight Cha-Cha.” To be fair, they were Cuban. And Fidel and Che had just nationalized their family home.

I’m sure you’d do the same if you were ever in that predicament.