The Hottest Hit On The Planet:
“Mr Sandman” by The Chordettes
There’s a reason why, when Marty McFly travels back in time, back to 1955:
Back to a time before rock’n’roll, back when people asked questions like “Who the hell is John F. Kennedy?”, it’s “Mr Sandman” – admittedly the possibly even dreamier Four Aces version of “Mr Sandman”– that soundtracks Marty’s confusion.
“This has gotta be a dream”, Marty mutters. It sounds like one.
It was the perfect choice. It was, quite possibly, the only valid choice they could have made.
“Mr Sandman” is both the perfect musical metaphor for the tranquillity of small-town middle-America during the Eisenhower administration, and a handy piece of shorthand for any Pop Music Historian looking for a lullaby with which to bring the nursery rhyme of the sleepy post-swing, pre-rock’n’roll era to a close.
The 1950s has a reputation for conversative ignorant bliss. If you weren’t aware of this reputation, a single listen of “Mr. Sandman” would teach you everything you need to know. “Mr Sandman” is the 50s in a bottle, right down to a reference to Liberace.
“Lots of wavy hair like Li-ber-ace,” The Chordettes swoon, presumedly unaware that they didn’t stand a chance.
The fact that there was an era in which Liberace could be referenced in song as some kind of sex symbol will always be a source of bemusement to me. The fact that such an era existed, and that “Mr Sandman” was the definitive song of that era, tells you everything you need to know about that era.
Having said that; you know who did love Liberace?
Mothers!
Multiple members of the Chordettes were mothers! Although, when they became mothers, they usually had to leave the group. Such were the expectations at the time.
According to one source – albeit a post on Reddit, should I trust it:
The Chordettes began after 16-year-old Jinny Osborn became pregnant, and her parents thought it might be a good idea to start a barbershop quartet so that she’d keep out of trouble.
Keeping out of trouble by becoming… a pop star? Sure, that’ll work.
Why a barbershop quartet? Well for starters it was 1946. And the Andrews Sisters were amongst the hottest acts in the world.
And also because Jinny’s father was the President of the Sheboygan chapter of the Society of the Preservation and Encouragement of Barbershop Quartet Singing in America.
He also owned Kingsbury Breweries Company, which helped them get gigs.
The careers of the individual Chordettes were constantly being interrupted by babies. Jinny herself had to leave the group in 1953, to have a daughter, and thus missed out on their most iconic hit. Fortunately she came back in time for “Lollipop”, their other iconic hit, in 1958 (it’s a 6)
By the end of the 40s, The Chordettes had won an Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Quest and were regulars on his radio show.
When Arthur’s music director, Archie Bleyer – that’s him on “Mr Sandman” going “YEEEESSSSS??” – started his own record label – Cadence Records – The Chordettes started to make records, too. Up until “Mr Sandman” however, no-one really cared.
“Mr Sandman” was written by Pat Ballard:
A man famous for writing “Mr Sandman,” and pretty much nothing else. Possibly aware that this was his one shot at fame, he wrote “Mr Sandman” with both male and female lyrics, so that if one version wasn’t a hit, the other might be. In the end, both versions became hits!
Everything about “Mr Sandman” simply “bung bung bung bung”s with 1950s wholesomeness. The “bung bung bung bung”s sound like church-bells, or maybe sleigh-bells, and that must’ve helped the tune do well in the competitive Christmas record market. They use words like “peachy”, as in “someone to hold, would be so peachy, before we’re too old.” About the only time the song gets even slightly sexual is when they wish his eyes have a “come-hither gleam.”
The Chordettes version of “Mr Sandman” is the cutest that I’ve ever seen, and it’s a 9.
The Chordettes version is obviously the definitive one, but I may actually prefer The Four Aces, although that may simply be due to its Back To The Future associations. Or maybe not.
Because although “bung bung bung bung bung bung bung bung bung bung bung bung bung” is all very well and good, what “Mr Sandman” really needs is an angelic choir corralling, “Mister Saaannndddmmmaaaannnn.” That’s the sort of production you can afford when you are the biggest barbershop quartet of the era, on one of the biggest record labels.
Also, there’s something about just how pleased with themselves the The Four Aces sound that appeals to me. Way too pleased with themselves.
Then there’s the third verse: in which, in order to create a sort of scat-like impression, they add a whole bunch of superfluous words. No longer is it “like peaches and cream.” No, The Four Aces spell it out for you: “just like peaches mixed with cream.”
Pretty much every creative decision The Four Aces make in “Mr Sandman” is inexcusably cheesy, and, logically, I really should hate it. But I love to hate it, which is itself is a kind of love.
“Mr Sandman” is therefore perfect for a song about the kind of magical being you lie about to your kids. A song in which the Sandman – an imaginary, mythical creature – is treated with a delightful formality: I like to think they would have gone with “Sir Sandman” if the syllables had fit.
All of which is far more charming than the original tale of the Sandman, where he throws sand into the eyes of children who refuse to go to sleep, thereby causing their eyes to fall out. Then he throws the children’s eyes into a bag, flies on up to the Moon, and feeds them to his children.
Now I want to listen to a song about that!
Meanwhile, in R&B Land:
“Tweedle Dee” by LaVern Baker
“Tweedle Dee” is a silly little song.
A sexy little song, for sure, but very silly. Some might say it’s tweedle-dum! It’s called “Tweedle Dee” for one thing. So it’s a sexy-song that is presumedly named after – but otherwise having nothing to do with – a Lewis Carroll character. And it features rhyming couplets such as:
“Jiminy cricket, jiminy jack,
You make my heart go clickety-clack.”
Tweedle Dee and Jiminy Cricket!: LaVern was really going after the Baby-Boomers-when-they-were-still-babies demographic here!
Not to mention:
“Hunkies hunkies fish that bite
I’m gonna see my honey tonight”
I honestly have no idea what LaVern is going on about with that one. But, like pretty much every R&B hit of the mid-50s, it was probably a metaphor for sex. After all, if “Shake, Rattle & Roll”’s “I’m like a one-eyed cat peepin’ in a seafood store” is a metaphor for sex, “hunkies hunkies fish that bite” almost certainly is.
And as for “hump bee ump bump bump?” Well, need I spell it out?
Every time LaVern goes “hump bee ump bump bump” – she only has time for one “Hump bee ump bump bump” on the Ed Sullivan show, but on the record she does it twice – is amongst the most fun musical moments of the entire 1950s!
“Tweedle Dee” may have been a silly song, but LaVern Baker took it seriously. As she ought. It was her profession after all. LaVern Baker had been singing a whole lot of silly songs, for a whole lot of years.
LaVern’s career had begun when she was just a teenager, performing as Little Miss Sharecropper:
A tribute-act to another novelty-blues performer, Little Miss Cornshucks, whose whole thing was to dress like a farm girl, complete with straw hat, and whose act included casually picking her nose on stage.
None of this is obvious from her records, which reveal the kind of soulful genius that would reportedly influence Aretha Franklin!
LaVern Baker, meanwhile, was teaching Johnny Ray how to sound Black, apparently by telling him to copy Al Jolson. Just try getting your head around that.
Years had passed, and LaVern had matured from being Little Miss Sharecropper into the much more sophisticated sounding LaVern Baker (although her real name was Delores Evans), recording sophisticated sounding records like “Soul On Fire”, a song too hot to ever have a chance of being a hit. (“Soul On Fire” is a 9)
“Tweedle Dee” was a hit though. A Big, Bad, Proper Hit, complete with lots of “hump bee ump bump bump.” Life was good. LaVern Baker was as happy as could be. Jiminy cricket, jiminy jack, etc.
Then Georgia Gibbs came along to ruin it all.
Following a childhood growing up – but not growing up much, because she was quite short – in a Jewish orphanage, Georgia went first into vaudeville and then into radio, singing on Your Hit Parade, the kind of show where you need to sing all kinds of songs.
Which Georgia then proceeded to do: Her most famous song being the actually quite good “Kiss Of Fire”, a Number One about half-a-decade earlier, and an English version of an even older Argentinian song that, in its original Spanish was called “El Choclo” or “The Corn Cobb.” Good thing they changed it. (“Kiss Of Fire” is an 8.)
Amongst Georgia’s many genre-dips – I’m assuming 1952 hit “Seven Lonely Nights” is supposed to be a country song, certainly several country artists have covered it – was a jump into blues, when she covered “Tweedle Dee.”
Except that Georgia’s cover was not like other covers.
Georgia’s cover was like – as in exactly like – LaVern’s original. So much so that some in the record business referred to it as, not a cover record, but a “copy record”, a phrase that appears to have been coined purely to describe this one record. Although others would soon arrive.
Whilst other white-covers – The Crew Cuts’ version of “Sh-Boom” for example – could never have been mistaken for the original and were therefore typical of an era when pretty much every record was a cover – even The Chordettes hadn’t been the first act to record “Mr Sandman”, sleepy-baritone Vaughn Monroe having gotten to it first – the same cannot be said for Georgia Gibbs.
There was no denying the fact that the two records sounded extremely similar. There was also no denying the fact that this similarity was deliberate. There was simply too much evidence.
Georgia Gibbs’ record label, Mercury, went so far in their attempts at replicating the sound and feel and everything else of “Tweedle Dee” that they hired both the same musicians, and the same arranger!
They also contacted the same engineer – Tom Dowd – but he said no.
Presumedly they felt they needed to do all of this, because, as a song, “Tweedle Dee” isn’t really much of a song. Everything that is great about “Tweedle Dee” is down to the performance. A lot of it is down to the groove. Best then, to hire the people responsible for that groove.
Although, speaking of performance, you can’t say that Georgia’s version isn’t a heel-kickin’, click-clackin’ celebration. Look at her go!!!
There were other versions too, but most of them didn’t try to sound the same. Al Sears’ for example was a rollickin’ saxophone-soaked instrumental.
On pop radio and in the record stores, Georgia’s version soon overtook LaVern’s… by the middle of 1955, Georgia’s version had sold one million copies. LaVern’s, a measly half-a-million.
LaVern was not happy about these developments and she decided to take matters into her own hands. And to show that she was serious, she initiated a three-pronged attack!
First, she sued Georgia for $250,000. Given that LaVern herself calculated she only lost $15,000 in potential royalties this may seem like a lot, but there was a principle involved. LaVern was taking a stand against a scandal! LaVern claimed that it was a bigger scandal than the Teapot Dome Scandal of 1923, which is what people used to call Watergate before Watergate happened.
Which is why, for the remainder of this post, I shall refer to this scandal as “Tweedle-Dome”
LaVern wrote to Democrat Congressman, and first African-American to represent Michigan in Congress, Charles Diggs, about Tweedle-Dome, suggesting that “there may be some wisdom in introducing a law to make it illegal for one singer to duplicate another’s work.”
And by “duplicate”, LaVern made it clear that she was referring not to covers: “Tweedle Dee”s B-side after all, had been a cover of a Lonnie Johnson song – but to intentional and deliberate note for note reproductions. “It’s not that I mind,” she wrote, “anyone singing a song that I wrote, or have written for me by someone, but I bitterly resent their arrogance in thefting my music note for note.”
Since the composer of “Tweedle Dee” was Winfield Scott – who would later write “Return To Sender” for Elvis – a member of vocal-group, The Cues, who were also signed to Atlantic, and who sang back-up on “Tweedle Dee” – albeit as The Gliders – we can pretty safely assume that he wrote the song for LaVern.
Despite having other real-world problems to deal with, such going down to Mississippi to attend the Emmett Till trial – Emmett being a 14-year-old Black boy who had recently been lynched after wolf-whistling at a white girl – Congressman Charles looked into the “Tweedle-Dome” scandal, drew up a bill –House Of Representatives – Bill No 5366 if you are interested – which was referred to a Senate committee, where according to the “Annual Report Of The Register Of Copyrights 1955” “no action was taken”.
And that, it appears, was the end of that.
Finally, as the third-prong, LaVern 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 – and put Georgia as her beneficiary:
Arguing that without LaVern to copy, Georgia would be without a career. Which was harsh, not especially fair – given that Georgia had already been around for more than a decade before LaVern came along – but you can’t say it wasn’t funny.
But was LaVern right?
Musically the two versions of “Tweedle Dee” are pretty identical. But vocally, they come from two completely different traditions: husky novelty R&B on one-side, and perky radio-jingle singing on the other.
Also, if an advertisement in Billboard describing Georgia as “a petite thrush” is any guide, Georgia was supposed to be sounding like a bird, not the impression that you get from LaVern’s version.
Indeed, there’s a certain sense of “A Little Bird Told Me”, about Georgia’s version, curiously enough a song with its own fascinating copy-record history.
In fact, the story of “A Little Bird Told Me” and the story of “Tweedle Dee” are virtually identical! Much like “Tweedle Dee” and “Tweedle Dee” themselves!!
- LaVern’s version of “Tweedle Dee” is an 8.
- Georgia’s version of “Tweedle Dee” is a 7.
Meanwhile in Christmas Land:
“White Christmas” by The Drifters
Irving Berlin’s son had died. At just three weeks of age. On Christmas Day.
But that had been in 1928. Some believe that – when Irving wrote “White Christmas” in 1940, although he’d come up with the melody a few years before – his son’s death was still on his mind. Perhaps it was.
Or perhaps he was feeling nostalgic for a traditional Christmas – the kind with sleighbells in the snow – because he was stuck in California, working on songs for a movie. A movie called Holiday Inn.
Although there were Christmas classics before “White Christmas” – the mid-30s had given us both “Here Comes Santa Claus” and “Winter Wonderland” – post-“White Christmas” it became a cottage industry.
Hardly a year went by without a new Christmas classic.
- Judy Garland’s “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” in 1944.
- Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song”, in 1945, co-written by Mel Torme for that extra-smoothness.
- Singing cowboy Gene Autry’s “Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer” AND “Frosty The Snowman”, in 1949 and 1950 respectively.
1950 also gave us “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas” by Perry Como.
But then, as the 1940s slipped into the 1950s, Christmas appears to have hit a wall.
The Baby Boomers had just reached the obnoxious toddler demographic, and thus had to be catered to with obnoxious toddler-friendly jingles such as “I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas” by Gayla Peevy in 1952 (it’s a 4), and “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” by Jimmy Boyd in 1953 (it’s a 1)
Although, 1953 also gave us “Santa Baby” by Eartha Kitt, a record that probably led to the conception of a whole new wave of Baby Boomers (it’s an 8.)
Things were not looking good for 1954. Perhaps the Christmas song cottage industry decided to sit this year out. After all, 1954 was the year that Irving made an entire movie called White Christmas!
You could be forgiven for assuming that an Irving Berlin movie called White Christmas would introduce a whole bunch of new Christmas classics into the canon. But that assumption would be wrong. I mean, I guess there was “Count Your Blessings (Instead Of Sheep)” but does anyone consider that a Christmas song? Or even remember it at all?
Since 1954 was looking so quiet, with no new Christmas songs on the horizon for herald angels to hark, The Drifters went back and recorded a doo-wop version of “White Christmas.” And suddenly the song was no longer a sad and nostalgic lament that was possibly about a dead baby. Suddenly it sounded as though – Christmas miracles of Christmas miracles! – all of Clyde’s white Christmas dreams had come true!
First we have the crooning baritone of Bill Pinkney.
Bill sounds enough like Bing that it feels familiar. Comforting. And he swings. You can almost hear his fingers clicking along with the rhythm.
But then Clyde McPhatter bursts in, crying out in an urgent heliumized tenor that sounds nothing like Bing at all.
Then the whole thing slows down to a crawl before returning as… “Jingle Bells”? Well, why the hell not! (The Drifters’ version of “White Christmas” is a 9.)
What other Christmas records were competing in the market in 1954?
- There was “There’s No Place Like Home For The Holidays” by Perry Como, who was making a habit of this sort of thing. But perhaps we’ll look at some that haven’t quite stood the test of time. The little carols that couldn’t.
- How about “Christmas Alphabet” by B-grade Chordettes, The McGuire Sisters? In which they teach us what all the letters of CHRISTMAS stand for (“C is for the candy trim around the Christmas tree”, that sort of thing) which isn’t really how the alphabet works (“Christmas Alphabet” is a 3)
- How about The Crew Cuts, fresh from recording their blindingly-white cover of “Sh-Boom”? Being Canadian, a land of frozen ponds, snow, and snowmen, The Crew Cuts should be naturals at Christmas music… and indeed they are, in the naffest way imaginable.
To be fair, “Dance Mr Snowman Dance”, did come out on Playcraft Records, Mercury’s kid’s music imprint.
It says a lot about The Crew Cuts that – at the height of their admittedly brief experience with fame – they thought it would be a good idea to make a record about a dancing snowman for the kids: “Look at that Snowman, look at him go, slidin’ glidin’ over ice and snow.” Good idea perhaps, but a terrible record. (“Dance Mr Snowman Dance” is a 2)
Then we have tenor saxophonist and blues growler, Big John Greer.
Big John Greer was indeed quite big, one of his bigger hits being “I’m The Fat Man”, which I’m pretty sure has no connection to the Fats Domino song, “The Fat Man”, despite it coming out at about the same time.
Big John decided to combine a Christmas song with the dance-fad of the year: That’s the mambo, of course…
… And so he came up with “We Want To See Santa Do The Mambo.” Did Big John – being so big – dress up as Santa to perform the song? No idea, but here’s hoping. That’s what I’d want to see.
With a song title like that I’m sure you’re expecting “We Want To See Santa Do The Mambo” to be utterly and delightfully unlistenable, but – possibly because Big John was a tenor saxophonist and a blues growler – it’s actually kind of hot. Cheesy, but hot. Like a fondue. (“We Want To See Santa Do The Mambo” is a 5.)
They don’t write Christmas songs like that anymore.
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Arguably, John Mellencamp elevated “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”. A 7? I never confirmed if Laura Mellencamp was his actual grandmother on “Grandma’s Theme”, but I know for sure that’s his daughter in the outro. A Very Special Christmas is the only Christmas album I ever bought. Springsteen and U2 on the same album? (“The Boss”, Bono, and Paddy McAloon, that was my rock and roll trinity.) I couldn’t resist. “Christmas in Hollis” is a pretty great original. I also have A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector but that came with the Back to Mono box set. It wasn’t a choice. I like Judy Garland’s “Have Yourself a Merry Christmas”. From a Martin Scorsese documentary that Meet Me in St. Louis was the first musical to be shot on location. After the song is over, the little girl Garland serenades, runs out of the house to decapitate a family of snowmen. Good stuff.
I can confirm that Laura was, indeed, his grandmother. He did improve ISMKSC from the original quite a bit. I can also listen to the Jackson 5 version (once a year). It was redeemed by the fact that Michael was still a child when he sang it, AND he could sing like he could sing. Jimmy Boyd…couldn’t.
Ah the Chordettes. In the early 90s, I was teaching the song “Lollipop” to a junior high class for a recital and purchased a Greatest Hits cassette of the Chordettes with the song so I could play it in class. I didn’t hate that cassette. “Never On a Sunday” was a personal favorite.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DPNASiM8rNQ
I watched White Christmas once. I found the opening scene where Bing Crosby, far away from home, is singing the title song to the other servicemen. The distant, poignantly sad look on his face and the way he sang the song showed authentic emotion and took me right there in the scene. It was the last thing I liked about the movie. The rest of it was dumb and of no interest, but I have found myself in the minority on that opinion over the years.
Chordettes > Four Aces
LaVern Baker > Georgia Gibbs
Drifters > Bing
What I’d really like for Christmas though is a Metallica / Chordettes mash up: Enter Mr Sandman.
And here’s one that was prepared earlier;
https://youtu.be/8pyzmYQijOM?feature=shared
Metallica’s perception of the Sandman is definitely more faithful to the creepy as heck original concept, as described by DJPD.
I legitimately love “I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas” once a year. If I hear it two or more times, I legitimately hate it.
I can hear that. As a well-placed needle-drop in a Christmas movie, I wouldn’t hate it. Not going to voluntarily listen to it though. It’s basically trash.
Sorry (and I hate being pedantic), but a small correction: “Soul On Fire” is actually a 13/10. I’ll expect an edit by the morning. Thanks!