"Plus a Twistin' New Year as standard ... non-negotiable!"

 Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without this blog's annual cursory nod to the season, so here are some Christmassy doo wop sides, some of which have been posted here before, some not.  You can find some of them on Christmas Past, a compilation of Christmas-related songs from "the Roulette family of labels" released by the now-defunct UK company Westside, which reissued quite a lot of doo wop and is worth investigating on disogs or wherever you buy your music. This collection isn't limited to doo wop but does include some choice items.

 

 

 

One I particularly like is Christmas Prayer by Richard Barrett's group, the Valentines, from 1955. Strangely, you won't find it on the Collectables disc "Best of the Valentines" even though that CD of the group's Rama recordings includes an amusing but hardly essential snippet of song in praise of Boston DJ Joe Smith. And Christmas Prayer isn't a recent discovery in the vaults: it was released at the time - in November, presumably to catch the Christmas market - was an A side, and isn't just a novelty: the rough edge to the singing and harmonising is highly pleasing to these ears, and even the corny saxophone quote ("jingle all the way"), just in case anyone should be in any doubt about the seasonal nature of the song, seems to fit. 

 

Actually, maybe the sax is understandable: the word "Christmas" may be mentioned at the start, along with a reference to snow, but the song isn't really anchored to the season as it's a generalised plea for peace and understanding, not dissimilar to Percy Mayfield's Please Send Me Someone to Love.

I presume Richard Barrett, the man who discovered Frankie Lymon, and later achieved fame as a producer, is the lead vocalist on Christmas Prayer, and we're definitely talking gospel-inflected, soul-anticipating mode. It sounds like there was a bit of leeway in the harmonising too - it's not that the singing is ragged, just that it doesn't sound rehearsed to death, and that another take might have been different again. 


 

The Christmas Past album also includes solo tracks by Lymon, the innocent air of which sounds especially poignant in retrospect. Here's his appearance on Ed Sullivan singing one of those songs - introduced as "Frankie Robinson", either as a gag by Ed or a genuine goof, as he claims at the end. It sounds as though this is live and not lip-syncing, though I can't see an obvious microphone or boom, and he does roam around. 

 

Interesting moment at the end: assuming that the "Robinson" gaffe was not a bit of pre-planned business between the two of them note how quickly Sullivan seizes hold of Frankie as the latter tries to imitate Sugar Ray Robinson, the boxer whose name is the source of the supposed confusion - did he fear the singer might try to snatch a few seconds longer in the spotlight and disrupt the show's timing? Was he simply concerned that his guest stay within camera range? Whatever the answer, as Frankie walks off at the end it's easy to understand Phil Groia's description of Frankie Lymon in his book They All Sang on the Corner: that smile really does light up his face like a Christmas tree.

 

 

Apart from that Valentines track, the most interesting discovery to me on the Christmas Past compilation - apart from the energetic idiocy of the Marcel's Merry Twist-Mas, which we'll come to later - was the Orioles' 1950 recording of Oh Holy Night, a song which is a staple of telly talent shows in the UK these days, and very possibly in America too.

As is well known, Elvis Presley covered the Orioles' Crying in the Chapel, but if you listen to the end of this recording you may be aware of a certain vocal characteristic which I can only describe as a kind of gentle caressing of a word, later audible in Presley's work. It's a fairly restrained vocal by Till, even at the end, but it's definitely R&B/doo wop, I'd say: like the Valentines, it's not overly smooth. 

 

There are other doo wop versions of Oh Holy Night and a friend of mine favours the Dominoes' version for its drumming, which he thinks imparts a military band air to proceedings. I prefer the intimacy of the Orioles, and the gentleness and beauty of Sonny Til's lead, but being an equal opportunity blog here are both versions. Maybe they are just differently good (though I  know I'm right).





Clyde McPhatter and Jackie Wilson long gone, the lead on the Dominoes' version is Lou Ragland; the side dates from 1965, the group back on King Records after much label-hopping. 

 

There is another chance to compare the Orioles and the Dominoes with Frank Loesser's quietly witty What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? (I like the line "Here comes the jackpot question in advance".) The Orioles' version is also featured on that Christmas Past compilation. In this case, however, I unilaterally declare the Orioles the clear winners; the Dominoes (with Al Anderson on lead) seem to me to be trying too hard to sell the song without seeming to think too much about the lyrics whereas Sonny Til conveys the adolescent-style anguish implied in Loesser's lyric of having to frame a question without much hope of a pleasing answer. You can hear the Dominoes' version here if you doubt my judgement but I'll only embed the Orioles below:  


 

You can find a complete tracklisting for the West Side comp on the allmusic site here, and at the time of writing there are reasonably inexpensive copies of the CD available on the discogs website.

And now let us wave the Marcels in. If you don't know the basic moves of this dance which was big in the early sixties, there's a handy guide here. But it misses out an all-important detail about arm movements which I read in Clive James's autobiography, the gist of which was to alternate the towelling of your backside with pointing out the approach of low-flying enemy aircraft while keeping your elbows by your sides. 

 

When posting this Marcels number in the past I used a youtube video of some flashing Christmas decorations but someone has finally uploaded a good quality clip of the group singing it in the 1962 film Twist Around the Clock with the mostly middle-aged dancers  having a very good time indeed. 

 

Seeing it finally makes sense of the song's opening. Fred Johnson (I think) declares: "Merry Christmas, everybody!" only to be corrected by the rest of the group: "NO! - MERRY TWIST-MAS!", to which he replies, incredulously, "And a Twistin' New Year?" - at which the rest of the group, brooking no dissension, nod as one, and he looks out at the audience with a "Whatcha gonna do?" gesture. It's corny but funny. 

 

And the opportunity to see the film clip finally solves a mystery which didn't exactly keep me awake at nights but was, nevertheless, mildly irritating. 

 

You see, listening to the record on its own I thought that the upper inflection at the end of Johnson's "And a Twistin' New Year?" meant that while he personally wished to extend the twist theme to the New Year he was seeking the approval of the rest of the group ... 

 

But I was confused as we don't hear any affirmative noises from the rest of the group as they simply launch into the song. Nohow and contrariwise: the film makes it crystal clear he regards the others as twist-crazed idiots who want to expand the craze beyond its tolerable limits but hey, he's been outvoted so whatcha gonna do?

What, one more? Oh, alright, then. Some of  you will be familiar with the Drifters' version of White Christmas from its use in a film but I'm partial to the Ravens' version, so allow me to wish you all a Happy Ricks-mas:



What, one more? Oh, alright. Here are the Moonglows from their time on Chance Records, with Harvey Fuqua himself on lead, backed by the same musicians who backed the Flamingos on many of their own Chance sides:

But as the above is not the most heartening way to end this small selection here, finally, is a song which isn't strictly Christmassy but which I find very moving. Ben E King, in his later years, sings a song for children, let's say to lull them into sleep so that Santa can deliver the presents in peace ... 

Merry Twist-mas, everyone!

 (Beat.)

 No, I can't help it. Mention of the phrase "Whatcha gonna do?" sent me back to youtube to seek out the Drifters. Not strictly Christmassy except that the verve and joy here ought to be embedded in all Christmases. And Ben E King said that Clyde McPhatter opened opportunities up for other singers including himself.