Mandarin Kraze - See You In September/ Susie

 

Future member of The Records with smooth harmony pop effort

Label: Spark

Year of Release: 1973

While the volume of press dedicated to them would barely outweigh a stray pigeon feather, Southend's Mandarin Kraze were a constant presence on the early seventies gig circuit, which empowered them enough to label hop from one vinyl home to the next. Their first single "How Long Does It Take To Explain" emerged on Carnaby in 1970, with the follow up "Blink Bonny Bluabara" landing on President in 1971 and this final effort creeping on to Spark in 1973.  Clearly the independent labels of the early seventies, such as they were, were willing to invest in the group even if the likes of EMI and Decca couldn't have given a toss.

Their records are quite hard to track down these days, though. The President and Carnaby discs have been on my wants list for awhile, not least for the flipside "Magazine Cottage" which is popsike to its bones.  It's a bit of a red herring, as the group generally specialised in gentle harmony pop, the kind of airy melodies which tended to litter the world of seventies light entertainment, but despite their obvious compatibility with the mainstream, the group and the pop charts never really met. 

"See You In September" is a cover of an oldie which seems to position them slightly towards the Bay City Rollers end of things, with cute teenage soda pop romance lyrics meeting teary-eyed delivery. The flip "Susie" is a much more interesting original and showcases the band's own potential much more convincingly. It's not a particularly progressive track, but it does at least feature some keen guitar work and more adventurous songwriting.

Nancy Whiskey - Freight Train/The Game

 

Plaintive re-recording of huge fifties skiffle hit

Label: CBS

Year of Release: 1967

"Freight Train" was one of the few huge hits on the independent Oriole label in the fifties, hitting number five in 1957. It was also a bit of an anomaly in skiffle terms - its singer Nancy Whiskey was a Scottish folk singer on the Topic Records label rather than some kid bashing on a pot lid in a cafe in the West One area. Her collaboration with the Chas McDevitt skiffle group to produce a record was not necessarily a natural fit, and was one she needed to be persuaded to undertake; with a rootsy, authentic folk pedigree and a recording contract of her own, she was somewhat doubtful of the change of direction. In fact, by all accounts she didn't even like skiffle that much. 

She would stay with McDevitt's group for four more singles, including the minor hit "Green Back Dollar", before returning to her solo career. Oriole persisted with their hitmaker and a few other 45s did pop out with her name attached, with most returning to the folk idiom she appeared more comfortable with. When it became clear that her mainstream appeal had been lost, the label let her go and she re-emerged on Fontana for "Bowling Green" in 1965 and then seemed to revisit her glory days for this CBS release in 1967, a whole ten years after the song's original release.

This version tones down the steamy, woody rattle of the original version and replaces it with a simple yearning, strings and all. Perhaps CBS perceived that a radical reworking of "Freight Train" on its tenth anniversary would attract the public's interest, or perhaps this is the way Whiskey had always wanted it to sound - but whatever the truth, it was roundly ignored by a public who weren't really nostalgic for skiffle in 1967. While it was true to say that some old Teds wandered the streets bigging up the idea of a rock and roll revival, nobody was dreaming wistfully of those threadbare days when spoons and brooms could be used as musical instruments by ration-starved youths. 

Her self-penned flipside here is interesting, though, showing a writer and performer capable of producing complex and very contemporary material. "The Game" isn't a million miles away from one of Scott Walker's "Scott 3" era efforts - brief, stupendously arranged, mysterious and leaving you feeling slightly uneasy by the time it leaves it your life for the first time. 

Reupload - Tony Hatch and the Cherry Children - Yoko/ Bahama Sound

 

There's no-one quite like Yoko/ And I know you will agree...

Label: Pye

Year of Release: 1970

If popular perception is to be believed - and, in fact, if John Lennon himself is to be believed - Yoko Ono did not enjoy a particularly warm welcome in the UK after she met Beatle John. Indeed, that refrigerated reception dipped down further to chest freezer levels when she allegedly "broke up The Beatles" (who seemed to be doing an excellent job of drifting off in separate directions without her alleged influence anyway).

The fact this single exists is more than surprising, then - rather, it's outright shocking. Surely, a novelty single filled with children merrily chirping their love and happiness for Yoko would have stood absolutely no chance of being a hit? Most Beatles fans, who would have been the core target market, wouldn't have cared for it, and Yoko Ono's own fans - at this point, either modern art enthusiasts or some of the hairier lovers of her peace protests and avant-garde pieces of "difficult listening" on Lennon flipsides - weren't going to buy a novelty record inspired by her. It sank into oblivion, and it's hard to understand how anyone thought it would do anything else. 

Musically, it's a sweet little concoction which is too innocent lyrically and well-arranged to be irritating, and while you probably won't rush to put it on your digital playlist, it's a fun few minutes. I'm glad it exists, and I only hope Yoko Ono heard it and it raised a smile with her too.

Warwick - Let's Get The Party Going/ How Does It Feel

 

Chinnichap tap into the Beach Boys sound and make it stomp

Label: RAK

Year of Release: 1975

By 1975, glam rock had entered into a period of decline. A couple of years previously radio and the listening public couldn't get enough of the crunching, stomping sounds, but the template was limited and leant itself poorly to progressive interpretations. The survivors of the genre were those who were always about far more than hard stomping heels and glitter from the WH Smith stationery department; the Roxys and the Bowies always had a flexibility and inventiveness which eluded the sweet old rock and rollers.

The net result of this is that quite a few solid glam records were issued in 1975 and 1976 which struggled to get a sniff of attention. This is without question one of them. Warwick were pulled together as a quick session group to record ex-Tangerine Peel member Warwick Rose's probable hit "Let's Get The Party Going", with Mike Chapman of Chinnichap productions (also an ex-member of the Peel) fronting the song and Nicky Chinn flying solo in the producer's chair. 

Tangerine Peel were one of those late sixties groups who released scores of records across multiple labels, all with a strong pop flavour, but none rewarding the labels who signed them with any hits. "Let's Get The Party Going" excels the quality of their output from that period by a country mile. If The Beach Boys had assembled in RAK studios to record a glam rock single, this is pretty much exactly what you would have got - thrilling close harmonies, and a Californian chorus doused in Party Seven lager and filled with thumping beats and sweet twanging guitar lines. 

Two Much - Wonderland Of Love/ Mr Money

Male-female pop duo with their less sought-after 45 (sorry kids)

Label: Fontana

Year of Release: 1967

The sixties gobbed out obscure singers by the spittoon load, and the Middlesex based duo Two Much (where in Middlesex? Don't ask me, I'm telling you all I know) were another fairly mysterious pair in the barroom bucket. We know for a fact that they were Andrea and Steve Gerome, but whether they were brother and sister, or husband and wife, remains lost to the record company archives. 

Their second single "It's A Hip Hip Hippy World" is becoming increasingly sought after, though, with record collectors using the shorthand of "It's like Abba gone popsike" (which it is) to shift the single towards high prices. I've been after a copy at a reasonable price or ages and will continue to hunt high and low.

This was their debut 45, and is altogether more straightforward, zingy, stringy pop. "Wonderland of Love" actually sounds a little bit dated for 1967, too wholesome, toothy and cuddly for a world where Sonny and Cher were showbiz's King and Queen. It could just as easily have been released in 1962 without anyone noticing anything innovative and strange, so it's therefore not totally inexplicable that it failed during the summer of love. "Hip Hip Hippy World", on the other hand, would probably have fared better if it had slid out in 1967 and not 1968. Sometimes timing is everything.

Linda Kendrick - House Of Cards/ Music Brings Us Joy

Dwight and Taupin attempt to push Linda Kendrick's career over the line

Label: Dawn

Year of Release: 1975

Once every so often during the course of writing this blog, I stumble on a band or performer whose hitlessness I find fascinating. Their career is riddled with opportunities and possible turning points, none of which seem to correct the low-key course they're on. 

Back in 2020, I bought Linda Kendrick's cover version of the Rolling Stones "Sympathy For The Devil", which can be found here, and immediately fell in love with its archness, its pantomime evil and camp. All of these things could be found in the Stones original, of course, but for all Jagger's strutting and showboating, the Stones always seemed weighed down by the serious rock ambitions of the others (with the obvious exception of their psychedelic diversions, but even they seem drenched in a knowing heaviness at times). Kendrick takes the track and sings it through narrowed eyes gleefully, loving every second, stopping short (you sense) of cackling. Her vocals are also wondrous. 

She wasn't the first female artist to pick up "Sympathy" and spot its hidden potential. Sandie Shaw did so too for her recently re-released "Reviewing The Situation" album, but her take is - while damn good - a little too respectful of the source material. It stemmed from a period where Shaw was keen to be thought of as something more than a pop singer, and it shows in the delivery. It serves an entirely different purpose to Kendrick's take, rocking out with it rather than dragging it around Soho with sharp fingernails digged into its palm. 

When that inexplicably wasn't a hit, her old friend Elton John (with whom she had toured in 1970) offered her a new composition entitled "House of Cards". This should have been a massive turning point, turning a popular live draw and accomplished musical theatre performer into a nationally recognised star. Suffice to say, it didn't. It's as superbly arranged as "Sympathy", with slinky, menacing bass lines wrapping around chiming piano lines, and delivered as wonderfully as ever by Kendrick, but for all Taupin and Dwight's power at this point, the tune itself is arguably too slight to create a hit. The arranger Mike Moran works wonders with it, adding interesting little sliproads and twists into the arrangement, but it's not quite enough to make a difference. The song is, nonetheless, powerful enough to have been a solid album track.

Reupload - The Saucers - Spring Has Sprung/ Major Breakthrough

 

Cheggers and Philbin on a New Wave tip

Label: BBC

Year of Release: 1982

The curious thing about fluke novelty hits is that the performers seldom accept their fate as flash-in-the-pan artists.  Instead, they have a tendency to try to milk their limited template dry - hence Lieutenant Pigeon spent years releasing (actually quite entertaining) singles with honky-tonk pianos that nobody really bought, The Firm's attempted follow-up to "Star Trekkin'" entitled "Superheroes" was just more squeaky sci-fi/ fantasy stupidity which didn't get played enough to even annoy anyone, and the less said about Edelweiss' attempts to go for a second gold the better.  

Noel Edmonds had spent years hosting "Top of the Pops" and watching the limited fortunes of actors and TV presenters attempting spin-off novelty singles; therefore, you'd have thought he'd have been sceptical about Brown Sauce having another crack at the charts after "I Wanna Be A Winner" got into the Top Forty.  Perhaps he was, and perhaps it's for that reason that he fails to appear in the video or the credits for this particular effort - but nonetheless, Saturday morning Swap Shop regulars Keith Chegwin and Maggie Philbin feature, and his old chum BA Robertson is back on songwriting duties again. In all other respects, this is business as usual.

Unsurprisingly, this single completely failed to chart.  More interestingly, perhaps, it's actually quite good, even better than its predecessor.  Whereas "I Wanna Be A Winner" was essentially a silly, off-the-cuff joke created for the "Swap Shop" TV show which was only released as a single to cater for public demand, "Spring Has Sprung" is actually a reasonably classy piece of early eighties synth-pop, complete with hushed vocals, atmospheric fills and a similar demanding, stomping chorus.  You can tell that a lot more thought has been put into this - obviously, Philbin's hushed monologue about starched clothes and Chegwin's wittering about vests does threaten to push the whole thing into the realms of parody, but had this been issued by a serious pop act such as Dollar, it might have been a minor hit.  This does actually sound as if Robertson was taking the prospect of the celebrity couple Chegwin and Philbin having further hits seriously and had decided to push the concept as hard as he could.  The video for this single even features Philbin pouting moodily whilst dressed in new wave garb, looking like some kind of proto-Donna-out-of-Elastica.  

The B-side, to my amazement, is also a proper song rather than an off-the-cuff instrumental.  "Major Breakthrough" is a strident piece of marching New Wave which involves Chegwin pleading with Philbin's (presumably fictional) army father for his daughter's hand, whilst Philbin coos "Ooh Daddy, ooh Daddy dear!" girlishly in the background.  This has just the right level of bizarre, angular tweeness to bear vague resemblances to a nineties Teen C B-side.

Axe - Monie Monie/Land of A 1,000 Dances/

 

Glammish take on the dancefloor smash

Label: MCA

Year of Release: 1973

Back when I DJ'ed at sixties nights, I was always careful to keep a copy of "Mony Mony" in my record box. It was a record I liked rather than loved, but nonetheless it's a powerful tool to have put to one side. If it was getting towards midnight and the majority of people in the room were still only twitching their feet on the boundaries of the dancefloor, it was possible to deploy it and cause a forward surge which made my next hour a lot easier. The folk whose feet were only tapping to some soul obscurity moments before would suddenly feel compelled to swing and kick to "Mony Mony" - its evangelical roar seems to lock into something important in the slightly drunken human brain. It does something all DJs love - it turns a slightly shy gathering into a party. 

One of my fellow DJ's, on the other hand, frequently favoured "Land Of A 1,000 Dances" for similar reasons. It was certainly the more credible of the two options, and also caused people to feel the urge to express themselves rhythmically. Something about the utter gibberish about dance crazes spewing from Wilson Pickett's mouth with apparent sincerity, combined with those driving rhythms, caused excitement.

You could argue the single biggest thing both tracks have in common is how they're frantic little records about absolutely nothing tangible or important which absolutely drip with fervour - there's no baggage, regret or alternate meanings you could associate with either, but they scream their nonsense for dear life. They're soul without the meaning soul usually contains, the energy and the fizz without the heartache. That makes them sound like slightly shallow propositions, but at 11pm at night just as the fourth drink of the evening slides down your gullet, and just as you've managed to let the stress finally leave your weekday bones, shallow is sometimes what you're after. 

There's also probably a psychological factor at play with records which are facile lyrically, and the way they persuade people to interact with the dancefloor. If the singer is happy to wrap his lips around some very daft proclamations, why should you be afraid to dance imperfectly to them and be ridiculous together? Not all of us are capable of doing high kicks at Northern Soul nights while listening to high class tales of heartbreak, after all. 

Singer and guitarist Rod Alexander, aka Axe, was clearly on to something here way before I was, because he welded the two songs together into one cut-and-shut glam rock model. Suddenly they're no longer vast, echoing exhortations to dance, but beery footstompers for the social club crowd. This isn't an abuse of their powers, though - this medley has a sledgehammer impact I'd love to try out at a glam night if only I still DJ'ed these days. Maybe one of you can do it for me and report back on the end results. The thud and echo of these versions transforms the tracks into something a bit more brutish, slightly more leaden than carefree, but the principles (such as they are) are still intact.