MERRY CHRISTMAS!

“Deck The Halls” — Los Straitjackets

“Joy To The World” — Stroudavarious Orchestra

Connections – The Castells And Beyond

It doesn’t take a pronouncement from Mr. Obvious to recognize that the decade of the Sixties was a volatile time in pop music. It was an era that saw a lot of strange combinations and connections — not only in the music itself, which included everything from folk music to R&B — but also in the performers.

A while back I wrote about the Hondells, a Sixties group that included Glenn Campbell and had a link with the Beach Boys, but there was another connection I didn’t mention. One of the group’s members began his career as part of another popular combo, one with a similar name — the Castells.

It all began in 1959, when four high-school buddies in Northern California decided to form a musical group, one that would combine traditional vocalizations with modern pop sounds. Chuck Girard, Bob Ussery, Tom Hicks, and Joe Kelly called themselves the Castells simply because they liked the name. (It’s unlikely they’d even heard of an earlier R&B group called the Castelles.)

The guys began their career by appearing in Santa Rosa teen spots, and as time passed they became so popular that a local DJ helped them get a record demo made. Unfortunately they couldn’t get a deal, even after trying a number of different Hollywood record companies. Finally, Era Records decided to take a chance with them, and they began to churn out a few records. One of their earliest, 1961’s “Sacred,” did well on the charts (although not into the Top Ten) but “Make Believe Wedding” fell far short. However, a later piece called “So This Is Love” again charted high for the group, and it was probably their best song.

It would be the pinnacle for the Castells, although they did continue to perform for a couple of years, usually appearing as supporting acts for bigger stars like Bobby Vee and Jackie Wilson. The group eventually disbanded and its members went their separate ways. Decades later, it appears that Chuck Girard has been the most musically active, with his service in — you guessed it — the Hondells, and by later becoming a popular part of the Christian music movement.

Maxine Sullivan – Swingin’ To Loch Lomond

A while back I wrote about bandleader Claude Thornhill, who is unfortunately less remembered than many of his contemporaries from that era, but was nevertheless a very important part of jazz history. He was an outstanding instrumentalist, composer, and arranger, but in addition to all that he was a shrewd judge of musical talent — the kind possessed by singer Maxine Sullivan.

She was born near Pittsburgh as Marietta Williams, but took her stage name as she grew to adulthood and began working her way into a musical career. By the late 1930s she’d managed to land a job at the Onyx Club in New York — singing during the intermissions between the acts of better-known performers. But one day Claude Thornhill happened to catch her brief singing spot, and it was the pivotal moment of her career.

Although Thornhill was well-established by then, he was still building his own career, and matching up with Maxine turned out to be a good move for both of them. Her sweet and melodious singing, backed by a talented group of musicians led by Thornhill, made for an appealing sound and they soon hit the recording studio. They began by cutting records of some established jazz standards, but it was a couple of jazzed-up Scottish folk tunes that ended up making the biggest impression on the record-buying public. “Annie Laurie” did very well, but “Loch Lomond” was a huge hit and became Maxine’s signature song.

Over the next few years, Maxine continued to record a lot of updated traditional songs like “Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes,” and “I Dream of Jeannie,” but none approached the popularity of her previous hits. Still, she was a busy and successful entertainer and often appeared backed by the combo led by her then-husband, bassist John Kirby. Some of her best songs from that period include “Easy To Love,” Harlem Butterfly,” and “Blue Skies”.

Although Maxine would never reach super-stardom, she was a favorite of many fans and spent the rest of her life as one of the most respected songbirds around. She continued to make well-received appearances from time to time, singing with jazz groups led by established stars like  Scott Hamilton, right up until her death in 1987. The last song she sang in public was “Loch Lomond,” her signature piece.

REVIEW: Pablo Menendez & Mezcla – I’ll See You In Cuba

As someone who has reviewed his share of Cuban music, I have to confess that I jumped to a premature conclusion when I received my review copy of the latest album from Pablo (Paul) Menéndez. I pretty much expected I’ll See You In Cuba, coming out in early January on the Zoho label, to be a collection of traditional Cuban sounds — which would have suited me just fine.

But even though the talented guitarist and his band, Mezcla (‘Mixture’ in Spanish), include a few tracks reminiscent of the usual music of Cuba, this album is one of the most diverse collections around. It maintains a Cuban feel throughout but touches a number of bases, including a fiery fusion piece, a jazz standard, a satirical tune, and even an “answer” song.

Although he is American-born, Menéndez has lived in Cuba for decades, and along the way has become one of the leading lights of the Cuban musical scene. His group includes a number of talented pros like trumpeter Máyquel González, flutist Magela Herrera, saxman Orlando Sanchez, and percussionist Octavio Rodríguez, along with various musical guests added on some of the tracks.

The diversity of the music is obvious on the first track, “Big Brecker,” a tribute to the late Michael Brecker that showcases Sanchez’s tenor sax on cutting-edge riffs. The variations continue with the fusion sounds of “Chicoy’s Blues,” which features Menendez’s blazing guitar licks, reminiscent of the best of Beck.

The (sort of) title tune is a change of pace, a prohibition-era piece, but one with a new message. Irving Berlin’s “I’ll See You In C.U.B.A.” was originally a tongue-in-cheek invitation for thirsty jazz fans of the Roaring Twenties to meet in Havana, where liquor was still legal. Here it’s a message from Menendez that gently addresses the current U.S. embargo of Cuba. In any case, it’s an outstanding piece, and one of the best here.

The group also tackles Monk’s “‘Round Midnight,” a jazz standard that shows up on a lot of traditional jazz collections, but seemed a little out of place here. However, I did very much enjoy another standard — or more accurately, the ‘answer’ song to a standard. Gershwin’s “I’ve Got Rhythm” is the target of Menendez’s response, “Quien Tiene Ritmo? (Who’s Got Rhythm).”

Overall, a very good collection of diversified jazz with a Cuban feel. Recommended.

Tony Martin — Crooner Or Cowboy?

I love to watch old Western movies on TV, but I have admit that I caught one the other day that affected me in a way the director probably didn’t intend — it made me laugh. It was a hokey film from 1956 called Quincannon, Frontier Scout, and the star was crooner Tony Martin.

Martin was playing the title character and it seemed to me that they kind of misfired when trying to make him look like a frontier scout. He was dressed completely in black, including a big hat and black leather gloves, so he looked more like a gunfighter wannabe. (And by the way, why did so many Western movie characters wear leather gloves all the time? I bet their hands were really sweaty.)

Although Martin did appear in a number of movies, he wisely stuck mostly to musicals, which allowed him to put his strong baritone voice to better use as a singer. And for a couple of decades beginning in the late Thirties, he was one of the most popular around.

A San Francisco native born as Alvin Morris, he grew up musically inclined but as a sax player rather than a singer, and — ironically — it was as an actor that he first tried to break into show business. Taking the name Tony Martin, he managed to find a few small parts and also began working as a singer in radio. Along the way, he met and married actress Alice Faye.

Although he did appear in a number of movies, his first big break as a singer came in 1938 when he managed to get a record made with the Ray Noble Orchestra. “Now It Can Be Told” (clip) became a hit and the young singer seemed to be headed for a big career. Unfortunately, World War II soon erupted and Martin was drafted, effectively putting his career on hold.

Although his marriage had ended during the war, in 1948 he married his second wife, dancer/actress Cyd Charisse, a marriage that would last until her death in 2008. It was just one of the good things happening for the singer in the post-war years. He had a number of good-selling records, including “To Each His Own,” and ”Stranger In Paradise,” and continued to occasionally appear in films. He eventually also made a lot of TV appearances, and even had his own show for a while. (An excerpt is below. The entire 15-minute show can be seen here.).

He also did a lot of live shows, in many cases as part of a popular twosome with his talented wife, and has continued to do so in the may years since. And — amazingly enough — Tony Martin is still active at age 96. He appeared on stage earlier this year in his home city of San Francisco, singing many of his old hits.

Chattanooga Has Inspired Classic Songs

I’ve always been a train buff, and since I’m also a fan of big-band music it stands to reason that one of my favorite songs of all time would be Glenn Miller’s “Chattanooga Choo-Choo.” I especially like the long version, which includes a ‘jive’ reprise. That performance, which features Dorothy Dandridge (who was just 18 at the time) and the Nicholas Brothers, is available below as an excerpt from the the 1941 film, Sun Valley Serenade.

But even though Miller’s version was number-one on the charts in 1941 (and won the recording industry’s first-ever gold record) it wasn’t the only game in town. Lots of other bands performed the song, which was a popular piece both during and after World War II — and later a suspiciously similar song would become a hit for a country music star.

Clyde Julian ‘Red’ Foley came out of Kentucky during the Depression, determined to make it in music. A talented guitarist and singer, he began building his fame by winning talent contests and making radio appearances in the Chicago area. Before long he became a regular on the popular radio show, National Barn Dance, and over the next several years became an audience favorite.

By the time World War II started, Foley had become established enough to co-host his own radio show (with young comedian Red Skeleton) and had even shown up in a Western movie with his buddy, Tex Ritter. However, he still hadn’t hit the big time in record sales. That would change in 1944, when his “Smoke on the Water” rocketed up to number one on the charts, where it would remain for 13 consecutive weeks.

In the post-war years, Foley confirmed his country music stardom with a series of hits that he recorded with his own band, the Cumberland Valley Boys. Some of the most popular included “New Jolie Blonde (New Pretty Blond),” and “Tennessee Saturday Night,” but in 1950 he recorded the song I mentioned earlier, and it became one of his best-known.

“Chattanoogie Shoeshine Boy” certainly owed a lot to the original big-band hit, but was apparently different enough to sidestep any legal difficulties. It was recorded by a number of singers — even Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra — but it was Foley’s version that hit the top of the charts and stayed there for three months.

However, not everything was working out well. The singer’s wife committed suicide the following year — reportedly due to his infidelity — and even though he continued to churn out hits for the rest of the decade, he began spending more time with his family (including daughter Shirley, who would later become Mrs. Pat Boone).

He continued working well into the Sixties, but died in 1968 — just a year after his induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame.