Reupload - Dora Hall - Pretty Boy/ Time To Say Goodbye

Vanity single about equally vain man wins Northern Soul appreciation

Label: Rainbeau
Year of Release: 1965

At this present stage in history, you could argue that home-made entertainment probably outweighs "proper" funded entertainment by a small margin. You can click on YouTube and watch endless videos of members of the public trying to be funny, singing mediocre cover versions on their acoustic guitars and Comet purchased electronic keyboards, pointing their cameras at their dogs attempting to dance the cha-cha, or their superstar babies puking, burping or crying that Charlie bit their finger. If it's a popular video, chances are you'll also be forced to watch an advert beforehand, thereby diverting cash into the coffers of the amateur film-makers in question.

Pre-Internet, before Hampton the Hampster was even a small, hairless pink suckling thing, matters were rather different, and avenues for exposure naturally rather limited. There were very few short-cuts to fame available, and you simply had to slog your way around the unforgiving gig circuit in the hope the hard work would slowly pay off. Or... alternatively, you could marry a multi-millionaire at the head of an enormous business empire and ask him to promote your work. 

It's the stuff of lottery-win dreams, but this is actually what Dora Hall did. Leo Hulseman, founder of the Solo Cup plastic drink cup dispenser and picnic accessory company, turned his attention to the plastic known as vinyl and decided to give his wife's entertainment career a bit of a boost. That Dora was already middle-aged by the time the opportunity arose presented no obstacle to his master plan, and in fact he would continue in his loyal duty towards her even during her twilight years as a grandmother in her seventies.

If you're American, then, it's completely possible that you will not only have stumbled across Dora Hall vinyl in a junk store, but watched a syndicated television special of her singing with Frank Sinatra Junior amongst other guest stars. So relentless was Leo's pushing of Hall's career that he gave her records away free with plastic drinking receptacles, both long-playing and seven-inch, funded television programmes with her in the starring role, and generally considered no expenditure too much for his other half and star in waiting. What the Executive Board members of Solo Cup made of all this is anyone's guess, especially as the constant manufacture of free records must have put a sizable hit in the company's profits.

There appear to be two popular views on Hall's output. The first is that the woman was dire, couldn't sing or perform very well, and wasted her life pursuing a ridiculous fantasy. The second is that actually some of her output is pretty good with superb production values and some of the best session musicians available (The Wrecking Crew were known to be involved with some Dora Hall sessions). I freely confess I haven't heard enough of Hall's material to sensibly comment on her output overall, but I have heard the supposedly good tracks, and they are indeed of a far higher quality than the scoffers and sneerers would lead you to believe.

Offered With Very Little Comment #6 - Dora Hall, Dick James, Afro Akino, Tony Hatch, Chamber of Kommerce

Five 45s from the back of the box

Once again, readers, it's time to delve deep into the dusty crevices of my 45 collection and focus on a load of weird and occasionally wonderful cuts.

As usual, I've uploaded these en masse purely because I've ummed and ahhed over the contents of the recordings and researched the groups in question and can't really think of much to say beyond the observations you see below. Sometimes less is more (and anyway, you didn't seriously expect me to write a sixth Dora Hall blog entry, did you? I really don't want any of my friends to feel they need to stage an intervention).

If any of you feel you want to discuss the contents in more depth or highlight something I might not know, feel free to comment away.

(And remember, readers - simply refresh the page if Box is deciding to be an arse today).

Ten Years of Left & To The Back - Things That Make You Go "Hmmm"

Over the last ten years this blog has covered songs which, while not awful, have certainly been unusual and unexpected. Perhaps they've featured a celebrity from children's television apparently singing about masturbation, or the singer of the "Rupert The Bear" theme going on about the wonders of the space age in a pie-eyed manner for ICI Pharmaceuticals, or a sixties garage band screaming their tribute to a particular brand of socks...

Here's six entries which, for one reason or another, took me aback when I first found them.

1. Mick Robertson - Then I Change Hands (CBS)

"Magpie" presenter Mick Robertson was something of a poster-boy for British children's television in the seventies, and it was solely as a result of this - and certainly not, by anyone's confession, his vocal talents - that CBS Executive Clive Selwood signed him to his independent production company to immortalise his essence on wax.

Unfortunately for Robertson, various other executives at the record label weren't enthused about the project, and didn't put their all into the marketing and promotion of his singles. Their enthusiasm might perhaps have been more notable if "Then I Change Hands" didn't appear, on the surface at least, to be a ditty about compulsive masturbation. It's actually a creepy and compelling listen, which sounds more like a nineties effort by The Auteurs or Baby Bird than a 1975 single made by a "TV dreamboat". The arrangement, managed by production genius Richard Hewson, is also extremely well done. But a hit single? While the early seventies had a greater than usual tolerance for interesting art rock ideas, this didn't stand a hope. Not until Pulp's "This Is Hardcore" was put out as a single in 1998 did such a rich arrangement accompanying such an uneasy idea bother the mainstream again.

2. Lemon Men - I've Seen You Cut Lemons (Polydor)

"I've seen you burn children... and leave them to diiiieee..." Right you are then, mate.

All is not really as it appears with this single, and its morbid and uneasy atmosphere probably only makes sense within its intended environment. The Sean Connery directed play of the same name - about a man who lived with his unstable bi-polar sister - was playing at a London theatre at this time, and the tune was released in conjunction with its launch.

Connery's influence really couldn't make the play a hit, though, and it closed after five nights, meaning this single was irrelevant and severed of all context within days of its release. Its sole purpose since seems to have been to confuse record collectors like me who have unexpectedly found a single about someone's unstable sister scalding children nestling in the remainder racks.

3. Carpetbaggers - Sorry (Page One)

The Allied Carpets jingle "Allied for carpets for you!" burst its way out of many a television in the seventies and eighties, its instantly recognisable cheeriness helping to make the carpet retail outlet a huge success.

By 1982 Larry Page seemed to think that it might be a good idea to create a hit single around the jingle, and for reasons known only to themselves, a group of session men bashed out a version that sounded as if it had been covered by Sparks. If you've ever envisaged the Mael brothers stalking around carpet warehouses on industrial estates pulling faces at the browsing customers, this single is probably for you. Apparently that wasn't a huge demographic in 1982, though, and it completely flopped.

4. Don Crown - Budgerigar Man (Orange)

"Budgerigars they are my friends!/ You may laugh but they understand me" Don Crown informs us at the start of this single, and as openers go, it's tricky to top that one. Absurd and self-aware all at once (he seems to understand immediately that the first line is going to meet with mockery, so references everyone's pshawing with the second) he's already got us by the short and curlies. The rest of the song is a bit psychedelic as well as slightly Disneyfied and Bob Dylanised all at once, making for a unique and yet actually surprisingly enjoyable brew.

Until he recently retired, Don Crown was Britain's premier budgie busker, working with his birds at sites across England (and, in particular, London). An eccentric and fascinating man, he arguably deserved more fame than he got, but his act was possibly rather too niche for mainstream consumption.

5. The Saucers (aka Keith Chegwin and Maggie Philbin) - Spring Has Sprung (BBC)  

Strange though it may sound to 2018 readers, Cheggers and Maggie were no strangers to the charts, having had a hit (with Noel Edmonds on gurning duties) with "I Wanna Be A Winner" in 1981.

"Spring Has Sprung" attempted to capitalise on that early promise, and BA Robertson penned this song for them which - amazingly - is actually quite good. Filled with catchy synthetic twittering noises, a nagging chorus, and Maggie Philbin sounding rather seductive, it sounds like a slightly less elaborately produced Dollar record and was a very unfortunate flop indeed. Had it charted, who knows where their pop career might have gone next?

6. Dora Hall In General (Various Vanity Labels)

I'd like to think of Dora Hall as being the Queen of "Left and to the Back". Married to a millionaire disposable picnicware mogul in the USA, he threw an astonishing amount of money into her dreams of superstardom, issuing giveaway records and (later on) videos. No money was spared on the production and arrangements, which usually featured musicians as notable as the Wrecking Crew. As a middle-aged woman her moment for popular music stardom had obviously passed, but hundreds of discs were issued regardless.

While Dora Hall's voice isn't something of incredible strength, the records are often better than you'd expect, and some are actually pretty damn good. In particular, "Pretty Boy" and her cover of The Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction" - both featured on the blog - are fascinating. It's only when you see video footage of Hall hobnobbing with stars like Frank Sinatra Jr on her own paid-for cable TV special that the cringeworthy elements of the exercise start to kick in - but even then, there's not an absence of fun.

Before the internet or vloggers were even 'a thing', Dora Hall barged her way on to people's screens and record players on her own terms and seemed to have a whale of a time doing so.

Dora Hall - Satisfaction/ 5 O'Clock World

Label: Reinbeau

Year of Release: 1966

Regular readers of "Left and to the Back" will know that I have a soft spot for Dora Hall. This is the wife-of-a-disposable-picnicware-magnate's fourth blog entry in total, and for anyone wanting to know the full background behind her colossal back catalogue, the answers can be found here. Literally hundreds of Hall singles are out there for the taking, and quite a few videos and LPs too.

Whether you love or loathe her output, there's no question that she covered some downright unusual tunes at times. Clearly Hall's first love was the showy swing of the easy listening kings and queens - you can hear it in her mannered, measured delivery - but she was never afraid to put that to use on modern rock hits. In this case, "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" gets the Hall makeover, being turned into a big, brassy piece of suaveness. Her vocals aren't perfect, but the style suits the track oddly well, and it has enough oomph to carry itself entertainingly across three minutes. Andrew Loog Oldham surely approved, and by the time the horn section kicks in, so will you.

Less convincing is the B-side "5 O'Clock World" which is a struggle to listen to, despite the delightful premise of the idea. 

Oh Dora. You may be the Queen of the American Thrift Store Bin, but you're the kind of artist blogs like this were invented for. I salute your memory. 

Dora Hall - Pretty Boy/ It's Time To Say Goodbye

Label: Reinbeau Records

Year of Release: 1965

Dora Hall has already featured twice on this blog, and if you want an adequate summary of her career, please go to this blog entry where all is explained. For those of you who don't have the patience, however, let's summarise her career as bluntly as this: Failed actress/ singer marries disposable cup and picnicware magnate, the aforementioned magnate then pours some of the company money into trying to make her a successful light entertainment star over several decades, then not a lot really happens except history remembering her as a very peculiar fluke on the very fringes of popular culture. 

At the risk of repeating myself further, there was a tendency at the time to regard all of Hall's output as being unspeakably naff, but that received wisdom is beginning to be challenged. In short, her husband had too much damn money in the bank to litter the world with cheap and nasty productions - it wouldn't have reflected well on him to have done so, and as a result a lot of her 45s swing brilliantly, though some admittedly do beg the question "What in thundering sodomy was everyone involved thinking?" But she did release hundreds of records.  Mark E Smith would balk at her work rate, in fact.

"Pretty Girl" is an example of a successful sounding disc, so respected now that it's actually a Northern Soul spin. It's not a 'borderline case' in the Northern Soul world either - listen to that joyous chiming, soaring brass section and uptempo, galloping rhythm combined with yearning vocals and you'll realise this absolutely fits the genre like a glove. Spin it next to Dobie Gray's "Out On The Floor" and few people will argue that it's the better record, but most will continue to dance as the atmosphere and celebratory feel remain intact. 

If you happen to be out crate-digging and spot a cheap Dora Hall single sitting unloved near the back of the pile, do take a punt on it. If you're living in the USA they're apparently pretty easy to come by. Here in Britain, she had one 45 out on the collectible indie King Records ("Hello Faithless") and that's it. You owe it to us to try. 

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. 

Dora Hall - It's All Over

Label: Premore
Year of Release: 1965

At this present stage in history, you could argue that home-made entertainment probably outweighs "proper" funded entertainment by a small margin. You can click on YouTube and watch endless videos of members of the public trying to be funny, singing mediocre cover versions on their acoustic guitars and Comet purchased electronic keyboards, pointing their cameras at their dogs attempting to dance the cha-cha, or their superstar babies puking, burping or crying about finger nibbling savagery (which mystifyingly some broody/ maternal people have decided to watch millions of times over). If it's a popular video, chances are you'll also be forced to watch an advert beforehand, thereby diverting cash into the coffers of the amateur film-makers in question.

Pre-Internet, before Hampton the Hampster was even a small, hairless pink suckling thing, matters were rather different, and avenues for exposure naturally rather limited. There were very few short-cuts to fame available, and you simply had to slog your way around the unforgiving gig circuit in the hope the hard work would slowly pay off. Or... alternatively, you could marry a multi-millionaire at the head of an enormous business empire and ask him to promote your work. It's the stuff of lottery-win dreams, but this is actually what Dora Hall did. Leo Hulseman, founder of the Solo Cup plastic drink cup dispenser and picnic accessory company, turned his attention to the plastic known as vinyl and decided to give his wife's entertainment career a bit of a boost. That Dora was already middle-aged by the time the opportunity arose presented no obstacle to his master plan, and in fact he would continue in his loyal duty towards her even during her twilight years as a grandmother in her seventies.

If you're American, then, it's completely possible that you will not only have stumbled across Dora Hall vinyl in a junk store, but watched a syndicated television special of her singing with Frank Sinatra Junior amongst other guest stars. So relentless was Leo's pushing of Hall's career that he gave her records away free with plastic drinking receptacles, both long-playing and seven-inch, funded television programmes with her in the starring role, and generally considered no expenditure too much for his other half and star in waiting. What the Executive Board members of Solo Cup made of all this is anyone's guess, especially as the constant manufacture of free records must have put a sizable hit in the company's profits.

There appear to be two popular views on Hall's output. The first is that the woman was dire, couldn't sing or perform very well, and wasted her life pursuing a ridiculous fantasy. The second is that actually some of her output is pretty good with superb production values and some of the best session musicians available (The Wrecking Crew were known to be involved with some Dora Hall sessions). I freely confess I haven't heard enough of Hall's material to sensibly comment on her output overall, but I have heard the supposedly good tracks, and they are indeed of a far higher quality than the scoffers and sneerers would lead you to believe.