Posts Tagged ‘Lawrence Welk’

Jesus of Cool: We Wuz Robbed! Great #2 Hits of the ’60s

Welcome to the second installment of an ongoing series celebrating songs that fell excruciatingly short of ascending to the top of Billboard’s pop singles chart. In the course of compiling and monitoring responses to the series’ first column a couple weeks ago, I learned a number of things, the most important of which were:

1. Unbeknownst to me as I wrote about the #2 hits of the ’50s – and in the process wrote the snappy sentence, “You don’t see Fred Bronson compiling five editions of The Billboard Book of #2 Hits, do you?” – it turns out that a Billboard Book of Number 2 Hits was indeed published in 2000. I have chosen to invoke the Pelosi defense: I was misled by the book’s obscurity into thinking it didn’t exist. My case is bolstered by the facts that Bronson had nothing to do with it (some fella named Christopher Feldman wrote it), and that the book went out of print without ever reaching a second edition. So, ha! You may read much of it on Google Books or buy a copy at Amazon Marketplace, or you may purchase a digital copy for the Amazon Kindle. (Don’t everybody run out all at once to blow $359 on a Kindle.) Needless to say, I didn’t use Feldman’s book as a reference in the first column; I make no such promises from here on out.

2. As I slog through six decades’ worth of fodder for future editions of this column, I’m going to have to dig deep for euphemisms that put some pizzazz behind the idea of a song being kept out of the #1 slot by another song. I believe that my low point in the last column came in the teaser for this one, when I left the distinct impression that Smokey Robinson might once have been “cock-blocked” by Lawrence Welk (see #4 below). Whoever the object of Smokey’s thwarted affections might have been in such a scenario, I am now convinced that at no time was Welk ever involved in blocking Smokey’s cock, and I apologize for the inference.

As a reminder, we’re giving extra weight to hits by artists who never reached #1, to songs that were far superior to the rivals that overtook them on the charts, and to plain old great songs that deserved the extra glory that the top of the Hot 100 brings. I’ll follow my choices with a list of other #2 hits of the decade, and we can debate their merits in the comments section. Now, on with the countdown!

11. “She’s Not There,” the Zombies. Keyboardist/songwriter Rod Argent made the Top 10 four times between 1964 and ’72 – three as leader of the Zombies, before he got greedy and named his next band after himself. Colin Blumstone sang lead for the Zombies, and just as his vocals offered more nuance than most of his early-British Invasion counterparts, “She’s Not There” was an awfully sophisticated single for an era when even the Beatles were still cranking out “I Feel Fine” and “Eight Days a Week.” Sadly, “She’s Not There” was left knocking on #1’s door while Bobby Vinton came through the window with “Mr. Lonely.” Even more annoying, Vinton’s hit version used the exact same backing track as Buddy Greco’s #64 smash of two years before! That’s just not right. (more…)

How Bad Can It Be?: “The Hee Haw Collection”

I’m always amazed by the crap that people hold onto. I have a lot of enthusiasms — music, comics, film — but I’ve never had the urge to be a completist about any of it. Every year or so, I sort through the stuff I’ve accumulated and put together a big box of books I know I’ll never re-read and DVDs I’m unlikely to re-watch, and off they go to the Salvation Army. And I don’t buy that many books and videos to begin with; I already invested most of my 1990s Fridays in watching The X-Files — why would I want to watch it again on DVD?

Which is a roundabout way of saying that I started this project baffled as to how anybody might think that Hee Haw was worth preserving for the ages. But sure enough, the good folks at Time-Life Video have an extensive collection of episodes for sale.

Now, admittedly, I’m not the target audience here. I grew up in New England, which was for a long time the one place where country & western couldn’t find a commercial toehold. A middle-class suburban kid like me could watch Hee Haw in syndication, just as with Lawrence Welk and Soul Train, and like them it seemed like a glimpse into a parallel musical universe. Indeed, I thought of Hee Haw as being sort of like Soul Train for rural whites.

But surely Soul Train never condescended to its intended audience as Hee Haw did to its. What I remember of the show is mostly gawping hillbilly stereotypes, popping up amongst plywood cornstalks to deliver jokes that were stale when God was a boy. Who, exactly was meant to be laughing at this, and why?

I’ve since come around on country music, as I have on soul and funk (sorry, Lawrence Welk). It’s still not my favorite genre of pop, but I’ve got a lot of time for the craftsmanship, the professionalism, the care and energy that goes into presentation and branding — so much art to make it all look artless. Roy Clark had some fine instrumental chops to go with those lush sideburns; and Buck Owens — well, not only did Buck help create the Bakersfield Sound, he palled around with Ringo, for cryin’ out loud! Looking at it now, Hee Haw’s musical pedigree looks downright promising.

And the show ran for 24 years in syndication, so obviously somebody thought it was worth watching — and worth preserving on DVD. And there are legion of fans who remember the show with fondness. Had I been wrong, all this time? I have no interest in taking cheap shots, so I decided to revisit the show with an open mind. Was Hee Haw better than I remembered? Were all those frightening teeth for real? Was Junior Samples really some kind of unappreciated deadpan-comic genius? I grabbed a disc at random from The Hee Haw Collection — episode #152, from 1974 — and settled in to see what I’d been missing.

Oh my. Oh, my, my, my. (more…)