Looking for some new sounds for your annual Christmas compilation? Look no further, for I bring you (aided and abetted by the always generouon) a whole bunch of new music especially for the festive season. First up, and a real treat for all of you Star Wars fans, is Little Johnny Bongiovi (before he stole his sister's hair and reinvented himself as Jon Bon Jovi) singing R2-D2 We Wish You A Merry Christmas. Jon’s first ‘real’ recording is taken from the rather rare ’concept’ album Christmas In the Stars, which was released in 1980 but soon vanished from the shops when the company which put it out RSO, went into long and protracted litigation with its star act the Bee Gees. John Bongiovi was (still is, I guess) the cousin of Tony Bongiovi, who co-produced the album with Meco (who had earlier had a hit with a primitive electronic version of the Star Wars theme) and ran the studio at which it was recorded and where John worked at the time. “Star Wars and Christmas don't mix and this is a case in point,” Ross says. “The whole album is terrible and must be heard to be believed.” Then we have the horrific car crash that is Billy Idol’s hash at White Christmas.
Taken from his rarely-seen 2006 album Happy Holidays (and which also contains anodyne versions of Frosty the Snowman, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen and Auld Lang Syne amongst its 17 rotten tracks), it’s hardly the former William Broad at his lip-curling best, is it? As Ross says: “I might not have kept up with Billy's recent career (and when I say recent, I mean anything after 1988) but this was a major shock.
It reminded me of a drunk pub singer going through one last number at the piano before closing time on Christmas Eve.” I couldn’t have put it better myself. And finally, and again with unending thankilton, I bring you Is There Really A Santa Clause from Red Sovine – who regular visitors to the World’s Worst records will remember for the execrable Teddy Bear. For more on Red, c here. I may be running a Red Sovine Special soon, but until now enjoy this slice of miserable Country hokum. Happy Christmas one and all!
See you in 2011. I know, I know, I know. I promised you a festive feast for December and I haven’t delivered. Mea maxima culpa, but I promise you all there are good reasons for the apparent inactivity.
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I will be back later this week with the promised Christmas bundle. 700 nes rom download. But today, in an attempt to redress the balance, I bring you not one but two recordings, both sides of a 45 which I genuinely believe to be one of the worst, if not THE worst records ever pressed.
In fact so obsessed have I become with this dreadful waxing that I have spent as much spare time as I have had in the last week tracking down as much info on the writer, performers and company as I could and ordering (via GEMM) several other discs from the same company. The two tracks I present to you today, You’re The Only One For Me and You Don’t Remember Any More (sic) come from the Philadelphia-based Musicart label and appear to have been released around 1956 – the height of the rock ‘n roll era. There were several other companies called Musicart operating at various times, one which seemed to license a lot of its material from South America and was operational during the 60s and 70s, and a more recent outfit specialising in Goth material, but this particular company appears to have put out the majority of its material between 1950 and 1956. Both of today’s songs were written by one Grace Pauline Chew, as was pretty much everything else put out by the company (or so it appears). Certainly of the 15 sides I’ve managed to trace to Musicart so far Grace wrote or co-wrote the majority of them. So who was Grace Pauline Chew? Born 1898 in Camden, New Jersey, Grace Pauline Chew was an American voice teacher, soprano and song composer.
Her father, James Buchanan, was a concert and operatic tenor. Educated in New York and Philadelphia, she married Walter C. Chew in January 1917 and they had one son, Walter Chew, Jr. She made a number of concert and radio appearances during the 40s – principle of which was an extended run on radio station WSNJ (New Jersey) in 1945 – and published her first songs, Music In the Sky and Still In Love With You, in 1949 (both issued on vinyl by Musicart in 1950). She also wrote a pamphlet entitled Know How: Information for the Singer who Wants to Become Professional, in 1953. Oh, and apparently she had blue eyes.
With regards to the performers of these two ditties, there’s little I can tell you. Mamie Watson performs the funereal You Don’t Remember Any More with the ‘Musicart Ensemble’ – an out-of-tune piano and a kind of reed instrument I cannot quite put my finger on (maybe some sort of harmonium). There was a Mamie Watson who appeared on the British stage in the 1920s and a Mamie Watson also appeared in the US-produced short film His First Car in 1930, but I’ve no idea (yet) if this is the same person or these are three individuals who all happened to share the same name. As for Hank and Jimmy, the performers of You’re The Only One For Me, their accompanists (listed as Rhythm Duo on the disc), appear to be one person playing an out-of tune village hall piano while a second clicks his fingers, kicks at the studio floor in an approximation of an attempt at keeping time and then provides a spectacularly inept hand clap solo. I love everything about this record; I hope you do too. It's insane; there's no other word for it.
And no, that's not a skip you can hear on the record or a bad edit - it actually sounds like that. Basically what you have here is the backing track to Wesley's earlier composition Kiss Me, Kiss Me Baby sped up and played over three or four times with Wes singing the words to his latest 'hit' over the top. Kiss Me, Kiss Me Baby only lasts for a little over a minute at its normal speed, which is why in this crazed, hyperventilating version Wes is forced to skip the needle back to the beginning of the track time and time again. Four artists are credited, none of them outstanding. The title song, credited to Faye Richmonde, is fairly mediocre and like so may of these simpering, sniggering, so-called 'adult' albums, aimed at the stag party market, but the other track I'm sharing with you today - He Forgot His Rubbers, performed by Angelina - is great; it reminds me of the wonderful Davy's Dinghy by Ruth Wallis, a Dr Demento standard and one of my favourite comedy records of all time.
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Co-incidentally Davy's Dinghy was recorded in 1956, just one year before My Pussy was released. It seemed that Beacon began by specialising in these kinds of releases. Their first album, Hot Pepper, featured the same line up as My Pussy Belongs to Daddy (augmented by Nancy Steele) and included such 'classics' as I'm a Virgin, But I'm On The Verge, It Was Hard When I Kissed Her Goodbye and, not being the kind of outfit to let anything go to waste, the album also includes an earlier outing for My Pussy.cheapskates! I had heard of William Hung before, but he'd pretty much passed me. That was until the other week when, bored and flicking through the hundreds of TV channels we now have access to (thanks to Sky), I came across one of those terrible 'worlds worst auditions' compilations - you know the thing, a cheap repackage of some of the audition stages from those loathsome search for a star programmes, fronted by a blonde TV bimbo-in-limbo whose career has been reduced to presenting QVC at 3am - and I was reintroduced to his 'charms'.
For those who don't know, William Hung auditioned for the third season of American Idol, the US version of Pop Idol, in 2003. He belted out a screamingly awful version of the Ricky Martin song She Bangs, panned by Simon Cowell with the words 'You can't sing, you can't dance, so what do you want me to say?' , to which Hung replied 'I have no professional training of singing and dancing.' Cowell's scornful retort: 'No? Well that is the surprise of the century' dismissed Hung and he should never have been heard of again. But truth is often stranger than fiction: a William Hung fan site recorded over four million hits in its first week; Hung was asked to appear on several television programs and he was featured in several national magazines and newspapers; he was parodied on both Saturday Night Live and Celebrity Deathmatch and, to cap it all, the tuneless wonder was offered a $25,000 advance on a record deal, releasing three albums in 2004 and 2005. Apologies for having spent the last month missing in action, but I'm back with a real belter for you, Elton Britt's missive to the blood transfusion service, Korean Mud.
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A real rarity, this 78 (originally backed with a track called The Unknown Soldier) is one of the scant few songs released about America's involvement in the Korean war - and one of a surprisingly small number to deal with the subject of donating blood. But Elton Britt, who he?
James Elton Baker, to give the man his full name, was born in 1913 in Arkansas. A sickly child, Elton was plagued by illness all his life, so much so that his parents didn't bother to name him until he was a full year old, giving him the middle name of Elton after the doctor who had spent so much time keeping him alive. The Bakers were a musical family: young Elton started playing guitar at age ten and later, greatly impressed by the records of Jimmie Rodgers, he also taught himself how to yodel. His first chance at stardom came in 1930 when he joined the Beverly Hillbillies, a popular group (rather than the 60s TV show), acquiring his new surname on the way.
An unlucky soul, his first wife, Margaret (who he married in 1934) died in an automobile accident less than a year into their marriage. The following year he wed Jeannie Russell, who died two days after the birth of their second child in 1937. Luckily his third and fourth wives seemed to have been made of stronger stuff and did not meet such unpleasant ends.
In 1937 Britt signed with RCA Victor, where he remained until 1956. During this time he cut something like 600 tracks and released more than 60 albums; h e appeared in a couple of movies - The Last Dogie (1933) and Laramie (1949). In 1960 he retired from music to stand for the Democratic Party although Britt returned to the entertainment world shortly after.
He died in 1972 after suffering a heart attack while driving. Still, here's Elton at his very best - or worst - singing Korean Mud.
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'A daring, madcap romp right from the pansy patch,' went the advertising blurb for the oddity I share with you today, Byrd E Bath's Homer the Happy Little Homo. I wonder what a certain yellow skinned Homer would make of it?
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With tap dance solo by Rodney Dangerfield (no, not THAT Rodney Dangerfield), this peculiar disc comes from the Camp Records stable, a company which put out a dozen 45s and two full-length albums in the mid 60s available almost exclusively through a certain type of men's publication and marketed variously as out-and-out comedy records or as novelties for the underground gay market. This was during the dark years before the Stonewall riots and gay liberation, you understand, and gay men and women were still persecuted and even imprisoned for their sexuality.