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Friday, 26 June 2020

Neither of Them Are Just Soldiers


 A real oddity for you today, a rare cover of an obscure Little Richard track, but one that has been taken to another level altogether.

The anti-war polemic He’s Not Just a Soldier was originally recorded by Little Richard, co-composer of the song as the flip side to his 1961 Mercury 45 Joy Joy Joy; it also appeared on the album The King Of The Gospel Singers: Little Richard, issued the same year. The single did not do well, stalling at 113 on the Billboard charts.

Recorded in Las Vegas, Thomas Douglas’s version, complete with an utterly ridiculous preamble, appeared in late 1969, updating the song to include overt references to America’s involvement with the war in Vietnam. When Richard recorded his version, the US were already participating in the conflict, however by 1969 protesters were demanding an end to the war and that the American government bring the troops home. It was a different world, a world that needed a different version of the song.

So, who was Thomas Douglas, the man credited for recording this, his only 45? Well, like me you will probably struggle to find much information about Mr Douglas elsewhere, because he doesn’t exist. Thomas Douglas was in fact two people, Tom Willett and Doug Rockwell and, although uncredited, the added spoken word passages must have come from the febrile minds of Tom and Doug themselves. Backed with their unique cover of the gospel standard He’s Got The Whole World (In His Hands), unsurprisingly this too failed to chart although, as Willett says, ‘We received a lot of airplay in Las Vegas and in some Texas markets’.

Willet also recorded several sides for Freeway, the label that put this out, under the name Herman Schmerdley and is still about today, regularly posting videos – a mix of product reviews, piano lessons and stock trading tips - on his popular YouTube channel, Featureman.

Here are both versions of He’s Not Just a Soldier (I know which one I prefer) plus the b-side to the Thomas Douglas 45, he's Got the Whole World (In His Hands)

Enjoy!

Download Hands HERE




Download Douglas HERE




Download Richard HERE

Friday, 19 June 2020

Why, Kay?


As it’s still officially Pride month (not that any of us are able to go out and celebrate in any real sense of the word) I thought it would be the ideal time to discuss one of the more obscure – and fun - gay-themed discs in my collection.

Credited on the sleeve to The Brothers Butch, but on the disc to The Butch Brothers, the innuendo-laden Kay, Why? (titled, if you did not already know, after the leading brand of water-based lubricant, K-Y Jelly) was written penned by one Eileen Dover, a wonderfully silly pseudonym that would befit many a drag queen. There is a fairly good chance that the men behind the release had heard of California’s Camp Records, but the song itself, and the flip, I’m Not Going Camping This Winter, owe more to the British school of campery than its US cousin. This is Julian and Sandy-land, all double entrendres and limp wrists.

Who were the real people hiding behind the name the Butch Brothers, or for that matter who was Eileen Dover? Sadly, I cannot tell you. There’s not a trace of information on them anywhere. Issued in 1967, just as the law of the country was changing and finally decriminalising sex for homosexual men – assuming that those men were over 21 and only met in pairs and in private, of course - the disc appears to have been the only release from Thrust Records of 494 Harrow Road, London, now a flat above a fast food takeaway. 

Update, 7 July 2021: 494 Harrow Road was the address of Eyemark Records, featured on this blog before, who issued the Sheila Hancock 45 I Got You (as Sheil and Mal, with Malcolm Taylor), a Sonny and Cher parody, and the album Recitals are a Drag by legendary drag artist and ball organiser Mr. Jean Fredericks. Ken Howard and Alan Blaikley were also involved with Eyemark - and the band The barrier - around the same time as Kay, Why was recorded... I think I should do some further investigation there!

Update Two: 23 October 2021: Correspondence with poet Kit Fryatt has led me to do some more research on the Butch Brothers/Brothers Butch saga. Kit contacted me while writing a piece on the record for a conference on gay identities and pop music (Dublin University’s Queering the Groove, which by strange coincidence, I was also invited to contribute to), to see if I could offer any further information. I contacted Ken and Alan to ask if they knew anything about the disc, but neither of them was involved.

That might have been the end of the story, until I discovered that Eyemark (or Eye Mark as it occasionally appeared) was set up (or at least part-owned) by Mark Edwards, a former BBC cameraman who was moving into music production. He was involved with The Barrier (possibly as their manager, certainly as a songwriter and producer) and he was also trying to get a music video project off the ground for TV broadcast around the world, filming clips of Howard/Blaikley acts including Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich, and The Herd. Later he would produce the Curved Air album Air Conditioning and manage (well, mismanage would be more accurate) gay singer-songwriter Steve Swindells, who in turn would go on to work with Hawkwind and Roger Daltrey among others. Could Mark Edwards be Eileen Dover, who wrote both sides of Kay, Why? Could he be one of the singers on the disc? In my opinion, it is more than likely. 


It’s vaguely possible that there could have been a second release from the label: a peculiar digital release of dubious origin is available from Amazon and iTunes, coupling both of these tracks with the very similar sounding The Girls In the Band and Bald alongside three other totally unconnected songs. With no writer credits or recording information available it’s impossible to know for sure, but could these tracks be by the Butch Brothers? The vocalists certainly sound the same, but sadly I can find no official release for either The Girls In the Band or Bald. Perhaps there was a second single planned or even pressed by Thrust and physical copies have yet to surface.    

There appear to have been two pressings of Kay, Why?, one – presumably the original – on a blue label with silver lettering and a three-pronged push out centre (I have a copy of this particular edition, sadly sans picture sleeve); the other (second?) pressing is on a pinky-red label with black lettering and either a solid centre or a push-out one. Both came in the same picture sleeve, and the four-pronged red label version does looks like late 60s pressing, so they may have appeared simultaneously. It is possible that if indeed there was a second pressing it was issued in late 1972: the disc was repromoted, with the sides reversed, in Gay News shortly before Christmas that year.

It’s not much to go on, I know, but that’s all I have. If anyone has the slightest idea who may be involved please do let me know.

Here are both sides of this rather fun 45: enjoy!

Download Kay HERE



Download Camping HERE

Friday, 12 June 2020

Tinkle Tinkle Dash Dash Dash


queermusicheritage.com
One of my all-time favourite records is the fey, fun Let’s All Be Fairies, issued in early 1933 by Durium records and recorded by the little-known Durium Dance Band. the song was composed by Algy More, writer of comic songs including We All Go Oo, Ha, Ha! Together (recorded by Jack Hylton) and Ever So Quiet.

Durium records differed from the norm, which in those days was the brittle shellac disc. These were made of a sturdy brown paper base coated with Durium, a lightweight synthetic resin discovered by a Dr. Beans of Columbia University. Flexible and with a high melting point, Durium was particularly useful as a protective varnish on aeroplanes.

The company claimed that their records were unbreakable, and that 'accidental scratching or dropping, even hitting with a hammer does not damage the playing qualities of a Durium record'. 

These one-sided, 10" square records (usually containing two songs) were sold in newsagents, inside a sealed envelope, for a shilling: the reverse of the disc was either left blank or occasionally contained an advertisement: by mid-1933 this was replaced with a photograph of the featured artist. New Durium records were issued every Friday. The company, which operated in the UK for just 10 years, was a subsidiary of the US company Durium Products Inc., which specialised in quick knock-offs of current pop tunes on this unusual flexi-disc hybrid under the label Hit Of the Week.

Most of the artists who recorded for Durium did so anonymously, mostly because they were under contract elsewhere. We shall probably never know who the vocalist on Let’s All Be Fairies is, but my best guess is that the Duriam Dance Band in this instance are in fact members of the Roy Fox Band, with trumpeter Nat Gonella on vocals. It seems that, in 1932, while Fox was being treated for pleurisy in Switzerland, the band recorded several sides for Durium without his knowledge. When he found out he was furious, and after a major row the band split up, with Lew Stone taking control of the majority of the original line-up, and Fox forming a new act. In June 1932 Lew Stone was made MD of Durium Records in the UK: surely more than a coincidence?  

However, this is only my opinion. Comic artist and composer Leslie Sarony also recorded a version of Let’s All Be Fairies for the Imperial label; the singer’s inflections are very similar to Sarony’s, and it is perfectly possible that he is handling the vocal, playing an exaggerated version of himself. Sarony was well-known for comic songs such as Jollity Farm, later covered by the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, and it’s interesting that the second song on the Fairies release was a Sarony composition, Toasts. 

There is a film clip in the Pathé archives from 1932 of Leslie Sarony performing Toasts, complete with a little tap dance solo. See what you think.

One of the things I find fascinating about Let’s All Be Fairies is that there are two almost identical but distinctly different versions in circulation. The first, as detailed above, appeared in 1933. A second must have been pressed at some point, possibly for export (Durium also operated throughout Europe) because it was compiled by archivist Robert Parker on the 1987 BBC Records compilation Silly Songs – which is where I first heard it.

So, here are both known versions of the magnificent Let’s All Be Fairies. I hope you enjoy the song as much as I do.

Download the original version HERE




Download the alternate version HERE

Friday, 5 June 2020

Camp Records


Happy Pride month everybody! To celebrate I thought I would relate the story of one of the oddest – and queerest - record companies of all time, Camp Records. If you have read the World's Worst Records Volume One or David Bowie Made Me Gay then much of what follows will be old hat to you: but bear with... or simply scroll on down to the two tracks at the foot of the post!

In the dark days before the Stonewall riots and the Wolfenden report you would never see LGBT people portrayed in a positive way in the media. Certain gay stereotypes (especially that of the effeminate man) were routinely exploited as source material for comedians, and camp characters often appeared in movies and on TV. LGBT people were used to being ridiculed, but away from prying eyes, a gay subculture sprang up: an underground social network where men and women conducted their lives away from the public and the police. LGBT people had their own places to go, their own language to use and their own entertainment to enjoy – from the politically subversive to the outrageously arch. 

In 1959 the American men’s magazine Adam began a series of stag party albums. There appear to have been about a dozen, put out by the Fax Record Company – a company that specialised in sex in its many forms. These discs, by mostly-anonymous performers, usually featured a mix of ribald songs interspersed with slices of blue humour, although they also issued a series of documentary-style albums, including Nights of Love on Lesbos, which was subtitled a Frankly Intimate description of a Sensuous Young Girl’s Lesbian Desires. Sold under the counter in specialist shops and through adverts in men’s magazines, these albums spawned many imitators, including those issued by the British company No Holds Barred, with many companies eager to jump on the bandwagon. It’s here, in the land of slightly risqué mail order, that the Camp label was born.

Although in the strictest sense the modern-day use of the word camp derives from the French se camper (to pose in an exaggerated fashion) this flighty, limp-wristed aesthetic got its name from the acronym KAMP, an effeminate man who was Known As a Male Prostitute. The actor and comedian Kenneth Williams wrote that ‘To some, it means that which is fundamentally frivolous, to others the baroque as opposed to the puritanical and to others – a load of poofs’ (The Kenneth Williams Diaries, edited by Russell Davies, Harper Collins 1993) and he should have known: the closeted Williams and his out companion in comedy Hugh Paddick (who spent the last 30 years of his life with his partner, Francis) made a bona little living, thank you very much, as the über- camp Julian and Sandy, stalwarts of the hit Brit radio show Round the Horne.

Originating from a company called Different Products Unlimited in Hollywood, California, Camp Records (run by the elusive E. Richman) specialised in producing gay-themed novelty records which they advertised, under the banner ‘racy . . . ribald . . . madly gay . . . way out!’ in the back pages of publications such as Drum: Sex in Perspective (a revolutionary magazine from the Janus Society with a national circulation of around 15,000), One and Vagabond, a mid-’60s catalogue aimed exclusively at gay men. Mail-order businesses that specialised in gay and lesbian books, such as Washington DC’s Guild Book Service (run by gay publishing pioneer H. Lynn Womack), San Francisco’s Dorian Book Service and Philadelphia’s Lark Publications also carried stock of the discs. The releases were, naturally, ‘shipped postage paid, in sealed plain package’. Described by their own press releases as ‘wilder, madder (and) gayer than a Beatle’s hairdo,’ Camp Records issued ten 45s. None are dated, but according to correspondence on the company’s headed notepaper, the first two releases (the single Leather Jacket Lovers and album The Queen Is In The Closet) were issued around July 1964. What is certain is that no new releases appeared from the company after late 1965. The material typically consisted of parodies of well-known songs with their lyrics rewritten to reflect a camp sensibility – I’m So Wet (the Shower Song) is a rewrite of the French folk song Alouette; London Derriere is a rewrite of Danny Boy (or Londonderry Air, geddit?) – or new songs in various styles including rock ‘n’ roll (I’d Rather Fight Than Swish and Leather Jacket Lovers), Sinatra-style crooner-pop and Latin jazz. 

Depending on how you view these things these records are charming period pieces, badly dated Carry On-style comic cuts or complete anachronisms of a thankfully-bygone age.  Lispy, wispy and fey, and about as sophisticated as a hammer blow to the head the humour, such as it is, is broader than the backside of the average McDonald’s customer. The lyrics comically portrayed homosexual subculture using broad stereotypes, gay slang and double entendres. Where artists are credited their names are jokey: Byrd E. Bath & the Gay Blades, Sandy Beech, The Gentle Men. The name Rodney Dangerfield crops up on several releases, he’s even credited as performing the tap-dancing solo on Homer The Happy Little Homo (‘a daring, madcap romp right from the pansy patch,’ went the advertising blurb for that particular oddity), but this is a pseudonym that had been in popular use for at least three decades prior to its appearance in the Camp catalogue, not the late Jewish comedian who found mainstream fame in frat house flicks in the 80s. Jack Benny had used the same name for a character on his 40s radio show.

It’s no surprise that the performers and producers of these discs were happy to go about their work uncredited. In fact, it was important that the entire operation was kept as anonymous as possible in order to avoid trouble: the company was operating in a time when the production of recordings like these could lead to arrest for possession and distribution of obscene material. Different Products were only contactable via a PO Box number: Richman kept an office on Hazeltine Avenue, Van Nuys, but no address or telephone number appeared on the company’s letterhead.

Camp Records also released two full-length LPs: The Queen Is In The Closet, which consisted of ten songs culled from the singles, and Mad About The Boy, a collection of ten popular torch songs which would usually be sung by a woman but recorded instead by a male vocalist without changing the song's gender. This produced what the album’s sleeve notes called ‘a wonderful potpourri of love songs done in a most unique way’ and, unlike the rest of the releases on the label, this album eschewed the campness for a much more ‘straight’ approach.

‘The primary reason for doing this album,’ the anonymous author of the sleeve notes wrote ‘was to prove that good songs could and should be sung by everyone. Gender should not be the determining factor as to who should sing what.’ A bold statement for the time. Two years before Mad About The Boy was issued, a similar album, Love Is A Drag, had appeared on the Lace Records label, featuring 12 songs including The Boy Next Door, Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man and, of course, Mad About The Boy. The cool, sophisticated torch song singer on Love Is A Drag (subtitled For Adult Listeners Only: Sultry Stylings By A Most Unusual Vocalist) was finally revealed (by LGBT archivist JD Doyle) as Gene Howard (born Howard Eugene Johnson in Nashville, Tennessee), a straight, married professional singer who had worked with a number of big jazz names including Gene Krupa and Stan Kenton.

No performers are credited on the two Camp albums, although the sleeve notes to Mad About The Boy – and flyers issued by the company - allude to some pretty big names being involved in what, for them, would have had to have been a covert project: ‘Unfortunately, we are not at liberty to give credit to the arranger and the many gifted artists involved in this production. However, to those with a discerning ear, you will recognise the stylings of some very fine and well-known personalities. Our male soloist is a delightfully gifted young man, whose name unfortunately must be withheld at this time. The vocal group used in this production is make up (sic) of four of the better known Hollywood T.V. and screen personalities. Here again, we are not at liberty to reveal true names.’ The front cover of Mad About The Boy features illustrations from another Different Products item, a desk calendar called Roy’s Boys: E. Richman and his co-conspirators seem to have felt that using these images would made the album appeal to an audience already familiar with Julie London’s 1956 album Calendar Girl.

Very few copies of these records were pressed: even fewer have survived the past half-century. Luckily JD Doyle,  curator of the Queer Music Heritage website (www.queermusicheritage.com), has collected all of these recordings together and made them available once again.

Here are a couple of Camp classics – Stanley the Manly Transvestite and Florence of Arabia. Enjoy!

Download Stanley HERE



Download Florence HERE