If, like me, you've been tantalised by the many clips on youtube of a TV show entitled Rock & Roll Graffiti, the good news is that most of that show, hitherto available only as an expensive DVD box set, can now be obtained on two reasonably priced 3 disc sets; I'm based in the UK and ordered them from America for around £14 each around ten years ago though you will need to round that up to £20 or thereabouts now. These are the covers to look for:
For those unfamiliar with this show, DJ/producer Larry Black and singer Gene Hughes of the Casinos (Then You Can Tell Me Goodbye) assembled a number of rock'n'roll, pop and soul stars of the late 50s and early 60s in a TV studio in 1999, got them to reminisce over several days about their experiences and sing one or two of their most famous songs, backed by a versatile and sympathetic band called Sons of the Beach. With the performers given the dignity and context they deserve but don't always receive the results are, at times, deeply moving and never less than thoroughly entertaining and informative.
No one who remains a really major star participated - you get Mary Wilson, for example, rather than Diana Ross, and Frankie Ford rather than Jerry Lee Lewis - but this is a golden opportunity, nevertheless, to see some performers given what may have been a final chance to shine in optimal surroundings. Singing in front of their peers in an atmosphere charged with warmth rather than competitiveness seems to bring out the best in them; with so many experiences in common, not least the indignities of touring, they "get" each other, if even they only met for the first time during the show.
This is something remarked upon by several of them: Len Barry, returning a day after some unspecified illness or problem, talks of a sense of family, gesturing to the room as he adlibs a line in One Two Three: "I've grown up loving all of you."
So this is much more than your bog standard oldies show; it's a chance to savour and celebrate the achievements of artists who may have been overlooked in the wake of the British Invasion - or simply by time - and to hear them tell their stories, share their common sufferings and joys. It's part discussion group, part concert and I can't think of an equivalent in the pop/rock'n'roll field, although Larry Black is behind many similar ventures for country musicians. There is even a kind of folk club element to proceedings for some of the songs as most of the
other stars sing along to the chorus, and many have mikes.
Regarding the obvious affection on display, I suppose there is also an element of what is remarked upon in the book Doo-Wop: The Forgotten Third of Rock'n'Roll. I don't have it to hand, and I know some enthusiasts have raised questions about its general accuracy, but there is one detail worth recalling. In the introduction the authors, child pyschologists by day, describe the typical reunion of a doo wop group on some nostalgiac radio programme: the familiar gibes now resurface as expressions of affection, all sting gone as there is no competition anymore, only the common need to celebrate a shared past whose worth can only now be fully appreciated.
And even if some of the performers on Rock & Roll Graffiti might be regarded by an uncaring world as footsoldiers rather than generals in the Pop Army, most were still in the business when the show was recorded and all have stories to tell. There are some great performances here: Ketty Lester, who left singing for acting early on (when her son began to bond with the sister who'd been looking after him), sings Love Letters and the effect - on her and on those watching - is deeply moving.
Assessing the singing dispassionately, you can't help being aware of a sense of strain at certain points - but that matters less than the fact that she is triumphantly reclaiming her status, at a show organised by a DJ who played her record year after year after year, in front of a later star (Mary Wilson) who talks afterwards of how, after hearing the record for the first time, she knew every word. The image at the top of this post shows Wilson and John Buck Wilkin (of Ronny and the Dakotas) visibly affected midway through Lester's performance, and they weren't the only ones.
This reminds me of an earlier post quoting from an article in which Tom Sutcliffe took issue with an account of Paul Simon singing The Sound of Silence at a recent concert:
I don't think I'd have described Simon's voice as "faultless". He's 70 years old now and it isn't what it was ... but that hardly mattered. Its frailties were integrally part of the emotional content of the show.
Exactly. Here's the dailymotion clip of that Ketty Lester performance, although be aware that the original is 4:3 and this is blown up (and considerably inferior to the DVD image anyway):
The above is undoubtedly one of the highlights but be assured there are many similar moments. I suppose part of the reason why I find this show so compelling generally is that it confirms what fans of this music have always known: that it's not just the big, lasting names who matter. When a 45 has an effect on you, it stays - and it is not a trivial thing - No Siree, as Larry Black might say.
Be aware, however, that it's not just technical quality which means you're not getting the full picture from the clip embedded above. The fuller response to Lester's performance is not included: artist after artist embraces her after she finishes, and her own joy and disbelief at such a reaction to that long-ago song is plain to see; earlier she had modestly expressed puzzlement about being invited to participate in such a show.
There are many other moments in the show which could be pointed out but I'll content myself with a few. In addition to his hit She Shot a Hole in My Soul (produced by Buzz Cason), Clifford Curry sings a great version of Under the Boardwalk; Dave Somerville (of the Diamonds) calls "Author! Author!" when he finishes Little Darlin' - it's Maurice Williams, no less, on the piano - and Ray Peterson sings The Wonder of You with audibly depleted vocal power, but is no less touching for all that, especially when he tells his anecdote of Elvis Presley asking his permission to record The Wonder of You:
"You don't have to ask me - you're Elvis Presley."
"Yes I do, because you're Ray Peterson."
Peterson also reveals that the writer intended it as a song to his God, not his woman.
Other highlights include Dee Dee Sharp singing Mashed Potato Time as though it's the most important and vital song in the world - and at one point, entirely without rancour, she says to Gary Paxton, the man behind Monster Mash: "You ripped that off real good." Mention must be made, too, of the joi de vivre of the house band's backing singers, especially Etta Britt, now a solo artist in her own right.
So my tip is: investigate such songs as may be currently available on youtube or dailymotion but be aware that almost none of the discusssion element is present there. For that you will need to buy the DVDs. But if you are the kind of person who chooses to read this sort of blog then I don't think you'll be disappointed.
To close, here is Gene Hughes, who put the show together with Larry Black, reprising his hit with the Casinos, Then You Can Tell Me Goodbye, with most of the others responding to his passion and joining in the chorus. As with Ketty Lester, there is some strain but as Ray Peterson tells Hughes afterwards, "You sure know how to sing a song."
It's a pity there aren't more shows like this, with pop/rock'n'roll/R&B stars relaxing and opening up in an informal setting. The company responsible specialises in gatherings of country music performers - are they more amenable to such surroundings? Anyway, seek out Rock & Roll Graffiti if you can.
This is a revised repost of an earlier piece.
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