Sadly, "Running Bear" wasn't able to accomplish something similar with native American culture. Instead we get a caricature. Of course, this was 1960 so of course that's what the public got. Mexican culture may have been treated condescendingly with the Looney Tunes character Speedy Gonzales but at least Robbins had been tasteful in his plundering and so, too, had Charlie Mingus on his masterful 1957 album Tijuana Moods (even though it would remain unreleased for five years). But Natives were never even given that level of respect. Everything played into gross stereotypes whether it be the mascot of the old Cleveland Indians, the Lone Ranger's sidekick Tonto or just lame "hello, white man" lines in movies. This is the world that Johnny Preston's first big hit came out of — and no attempt was made to do anything even remotely nuanced with it.
Problematic material is difficult to look past but a good-to-great song certainly helps. And in this regard, too, "Running Bear" falls flat. Whereas genuinely good bands may have a standout element that attracts fans while a secret weapon keeps them there (come for the sweetness of Paul McCartney, stay for the bitter humour of John Lennon), this is pretty much its opposite: turn it off because the song sucks, never return because of the racism. (Though you could certainly do it the other way round if you so desire) The chorus isn't quite as vile the verses which just about rescues it from the lowest of the low of pop and credit here should go to one Link Davis for providing a decent tenor sax that almost makes the rest of it, well, bearable.
It's worth pointing out that this was still the infancy of the rock 'n' roll era (in spite of the fact that the genre had already dried up...or so everyone thought) and the whole thing was based on novelty. Teenagers with disposable income? Novelty. Jukeboxes in burger joints and malt shops? Novelty. All this beat music noise everyone's been talking about? Novelty. As Tom Ewing says in his review of this monstrosity — in which he inexplicably gave it an extremely generous score of 5 — that it's a "neat demonstration of the classic record biz approach — release anything and see what works". And even though "Running Bear" very clearly doesn't work, it still managed to make it to number one in just about every English speaking country in the world.
But just who was buying this thing and who was sending in requests that their local DJ play it? I can't fathom a circumstance in which any intelligent adult would wish to play it and it's even more hard to believe that teens of the time were into it as well. That leaves kids playing Cowboys and Indians at their local park as the only logical answer. I'm not even completely convinced that little Bobby or Alice even wanted this song on 45 but that their parents and aunts and uncles went out and bought them because they liked watching Gunsmoke and dressed up as cowboys for Halloween and had toy six shooters. There was something to all of these childish pursuits but "Running Bear" does not deserve to be held alongside them. A fun and imaginative childhood deserves much better out of pop music than this piece of crap.
Score: 2
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Con Can
There's a reason so many Canadian entertainers end up relocating down to the States: opportunities. Also money. Two reasons, in fact. Some Americans used to do much the same north of the border. And is it any wonder Ronnie Hawkins made metro Toronto his permanent home when everything he put out went Top 10 there? "Southern Love" is reasonably good — though it sounds like an absolute masterpiece when held up against bloody "Running Bear" — and something of a grower and even hints at being an influence on Kenny Rodgers' "Just Dropped in to See What Condition My Condition Was In" but its success on the CHUM charts suggests that it was Hawkins who people were fond of most of all. The records you give or take but to see him and The Hawks play some dingy bar in Guelph or North Bay at the time must have been something else indeed. His singles may never have gone to number one (barring a charity hit that we'll get to in good time) but I daresay he was at the top for many an Ontarian during the early sixties.
Not sure if you noticed but the writing credit on Running Bear goes to J. P. Richardson.
ReplyDeleteAlso known as The Big Bopper. He was killed in 1959 in the same plane as Buddy Holly but some say it's him making the Indian chants on this record.
I'm skeptical they would have sat on this track for almost a year though, before releasing it.