Reupload - Mike Conway - I'm Gonna Get Me A Woman

Label: Plexium Records
Year of Release: 1968

I've said before that the reduced boxes and bins of your average second hand record store usually have a fair few sixties solo artists nesting amidst the novelty pop, three hit wonders and rejected promotional singles. The musical history books have been particularly poor at recording the comings and goings of these lone rangers unless they were folk artists - and even then, there are some shocking gaps in everybody's knowledge.

If there's any information out there about Mike Conway at all, I can't find it. On the evidence of this recording, though, he sounds like a middle of the road supper club character who obviously didn't find enormous success. "The Reign of King Sadness" is a celebratory ballad about the end of bleak times which is really quite wearisome despite its good intentions, and it's the B-side in all its "You couldn't get away with that now!" glory that I'm really interested in. "I'm Gonna Get Me A Woman" is a bold declaration of intent where, with a joyful, brassy orchestral backing, Conway assures us "I'm gonna get me a woman, yes sir/ I think that each guy should/ but I ain't gonna marry no gal/ unless she can cook real good". The year might have been 1968, and such thoughts may have already become desperately passe and offensive to some, but the mainstream of pop carried on churning out these feminist baiting lyrical corkers for years to come (as also evidenced in Moments and Whatnauts' hit "Girls" in the seventies). There's a bounce to "I'm Gonna Get Me A Woman" I find enticing, and a distinct tone of wrongness about the lyrics which seems amusing now. The confidence in Conway's voice is a noise to behold - you can imagine him skipping down the street singing the song.

Of equal interest is the production credit for David Balfe, which I can only assume isn't David Balfe out of the Teardrop Explodes unless he was some kind of studio prodigy, and the fact this came out on Plexium Records, a very early independent label which failed to take on the might of the majors, but is now extremely collectible.

(This blog entry was originally uploaded in 2009, and members of Mike Conway's family were kind enough to get in touch with me.  I've reproduced their information below:

Mike lived in North Cheam, London and was the lead singer for a local band in the sixties called The Undergrades. He also went on to sing The Riegn of..and also I'm gonna get...yes sir. He was my Fathers brother and Mikes sister was Moreen Rose a singer who played venues throughout the UK ,I believe in the late 50's. Moreen was married to Dennis Newey who was with the BBC orchestra. Mikes father was Frank Quinn OBE the Quartermaster for MI-6 who died under mysterious circumstance in the early seventies. Mike was a really great uncle and he was the singing local generation in London in the sixties. He passed away in N.Ireland some years ago at age 55.
With better lyrics and coaching he could have been truly great. The undergrades I think produced a record, I am sure of it. "Rock on Mike" Love always, your family.

Further to my brother's comments on Mike his real name was Mike Quinn and had a stint in the Army, owned a shoe shop in Belfast and was also a prison guard for a while. He was a talented man but never managed the break needed to succeed. He was a fun man and good uncle but in truth we did not see enough of him over the years. Mike was a playboy type in his younger days but when his father died I feel that Mike somewhat lost his way with music and his image. Thank you for the chance to remember Mike's music via this site. I remember having the record and playing it every so often but it got lost over the years. Nice to see a picture of it again.)

Wishful Thinking - Step By Step/ Looking Around

Label: Decca
Year of Release: 1966

Some time ago now I posted a detailed entry about the history of the British harmony/ beat group Wishful Thinking, and rather than repeat myself for the sake of it on this occasion, it probably makes sense for me to direct you back to that effort.

"Step By Step" is another prime example of the group's typical sound.  Intricate vocal harmonies combine with bouncy, buoyant melodies to produce a single which ended up not doing a great deal in the UK at all.  Produced by Shadows man Tony Meehan, it tugs gently on a variety of popular sounds such as upbeat Alpert trumpet sounds, Beach Boys harmonising and Tin Pan Alley chirpiness, and as such seems as if it would have had the potential to crossover to a wide number of audiences.  Sadly, it was not to be, and it only acts as another milestone on the way to the group's broader success with "Hiroshima" in the seventies.

The B-side "Looking Around" is barely with troubling yourself with at all, but I include it here for the sake of completeness.

The Fuckers - Sexy Roy Orbison

Label: Kalevala
Year of Release: 1997

Back in November, you'll remember that I talked about Bill Drummond and Mark Manning (aka Zodiac Mindwarp) and their peculiar mission to create a series of fictional Finnish bands whose singles they could release in quantities of 500 copies each. From ambient brilliance to garage rock to techno stupidity, the singles were varied in style and tone.  Ultimately though, I doubt anyone was quite prepared for the non-existent Finnish punk band The Fuckers.  Drummond writes in his excellent tome "45":

"They are the only Lapp punk band in the world.  They have been together for over ten years, no line-up changes, thousands of gigs, no success and no selling out.  They always get drunk before they go on stage.  Once on stage they fall over, break strings, get in fights with each other or members of the audience.  The night always ends with them being ripped off by the promoter.  They hate everyone and everything, but especially Helsinki.  To them, Helsinki is full of soft, southern, disco-loving, homosexual, rich, arty wankers, and full of girls they want to shag but never can, things they want to own but never will.  The Fuckers are the eternal dispossessed outsiders, failures and fuck-ups.  All of their own doing, though of course they'll never see it that way.  As far as I'm concerned, The Fuckers are the greatest band in the world".

So while "Sexy Roy Orbison" is probably one of the finest song titles of the nineties (though perhaps not as provocative as the song they apparently penned in honour of Princess Diana's death, "One Less Slag") does it cut the mustard?  Yes and no.  Possibly unsurprisingly, "Sexy Roy Orbison" actually sounds rather like the KLF colliding with Extreme Noise Terror as they did for a version of "3am Eternal", but perhaps less powerful and searing.  It sounds exactly what you'd expect a pissed-up underground punk band without a clue to sound like, and in that respect it's such an accurate parody that it would be hard for anyone to tell this wasn't the real deal if they were blindfold tested.  Buster Gobsmack Eats Filth this isn't.

It is a full-throttle, ferocious burst of noise and huge fun, but I doubt you'll need to listen to it more than half-a-dozen times before getting the gist and moving on.  The concept behind the group is mightier than the product itself.  Though I shudder to think what Google searches are going to get directed here as a result of the band's name and song's title….

Gaslight - Move/ And So To Sleep

Label: Jayboy

Year of Release: 1969

An odd and slightly mysterious one, this. "Move" has been picking up some attention lately as an otherwise largely ignored psychedelic obscurity.  Not without reason - this is slippery smooth psych, complete with close harmonies, grooving electric organ work, heavy basslines and slow dance floor beats. The chorus reverts to UK Beat type, urging us to "jump and shout" and momentarily disturbs the mood, but otherwise this slides along beautifully.  It's not wildly dissimilar to the work of The Dragons, another band who were utterly ignored at the same time the scented hippy candles were getting snuffed out but recently had their material issued on Ninja Tunes.  

Gaslight seem to have released this single then disappeared without trace, giving us absolutely no clues as to who they were or what else they did.  There is some speculation online that they may be another band signed to Jay Boy or their controlling label President operating under a pseudonym, but there are no clear indications.  Whatever the facts, their approach was largely wasted on the British public by 1969, and as everyone began to pick up their hard rock, blues and prog albums, there wasn't time for this kind of technicolour dancefloor action.  A shame - if it had been issued a couple of years before, "Move" may have made a much more significant impression, but even then I can't help but feel that this is a subtle little record which might not have ever had a chance of bashing its way through the radio to encourage the public to buy it in vast quantities.  Still, we can enjoy it now. Move, readers, and get yourself together. 

Dora Hall - Did He Call Today Mama?/ Time To Say Goodbye

Label: Calamo

Year of Release: 1963

Dora Hall is an old friend of the blog, of course, and I've already gone into enormous depth about her absurd and almost certainly unprecedented and unrepeated career in vanity recording.  Whereas most self-released artistes press up 200 records for their friends and family and the people who fancy them, Dora was married to a millionaire plastic kitchen utensils magnate.  This meant her records were regularly given away free with purchases of picnic-ware, airtime on cable television was bought, and she ended up an ubiquitous presence in the USA for decades without ever having a hit single.

Of course, it would have been a lot more fun if Dora Hall had been an exponent of experimental noise or political agit-prop, but the fact her husband's money bought her time with some of the finest session musicians in the country often meant that some of her singles weren't bad free gifts at all.  Several veer towards the Northern Soul end of the spectrum and sound no worse (and in many cases better) than acclaimed efforts from small indie labels operating in that sphere, and her takes on tracks like The Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction" actually have kicking horn sections and a gritty edge that is surprising.  She chose her material and musicians wisely and was much more than a middle-of-the-road character.  

"Did He Call Today Mama" - by Randy Newman, no less - is another example of her picking a winner.  It's a swinging borderline Northern Soul song with an edge of desperation about its lyrics, a beautiful kick about its performance, and a world-weary vocal from Hall who doesn't have a fantastic voice, but knows how to deliver the sentiments.  It's true to say that her television appearances sometimes made her seem somewhat naff and perhaps distracted from the quality of her recorded work, so I'd ask doubters to listen with a fresh pair of ears.  Some of these singles are so cheering I only wish they were more easily available in the UK.

Dora died in 1988, but she'll always have a special place in this blog's heart.