The Tokens: "The Lion Sleeps Tonight"

December 11, 1961 (3 weeks)

December 11, 1961: the twenty-fifth anniversary of the abdication of Edward VIII, the twentieth anniversary of Nazi Germany's declaration of war on the United States and the forty-first birthday of my grandfather, Bill Margach. Oh and "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" by The Tokens hits number one on Canada's CHUM charts, making it the final chart topper of the year.

And what a year it has been! I'll go into more detail in my yearly wrap up but we really had a wide variety in terms of quality. Several good-to-great singles and a few that are much less appealing. But I had an opinion on everything that came up so I wasn't indifferent to the bulk of it — and in many ways it's worse if the reaction towards a record is a simple shrug of the shoulders and a "meh" rather than feeling utterly repulsed.

There probably isn't a better single to finish off such an all over the place year as "The Lion Sleeps Tonight", a song which is part masterpiece, part mildly irritating earworm and part a meaningless bit of fun. The sort of thing that could legitimately be scored anywhere between a 4 — especially if its many useless cover versions are factored in, which they shouldn't be — and a 9 — if I'm not nearly as crabby as I often am.

So, how would I evaluate it today? Probably somewhere in the middle. It's funny that for a song which is so ingrained in western culture, there are bits that get forgotten about. For example, the drumming is simple but quite effective, giving the sound an ominous vibe. Whereas Tight Fit's horrible rendition from the early eighties went way overboard in trying to play up the African sound, The Tokens attempted to be far more subtle in their cultural appropriation. The unforgettable chant of "Wimoweh" is more than enough. (Michael Stipe is the only singer to do The Tokens, as well as composer Solomon Linda, justice on R.E.M.'s jangle pop fit of nursery rhyme madness "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite" from their 1992 tour de force Automatic for the People)

In a year packed with pathetic novelty trash, The Tokens somehow managed to make something to appeal to kids that adults could enjoy as well, as well as the sort of thing that sounded neat the first time you'd hear it but whose quirks didn't wear off so easily with repeated listens. Given that it has appeared in The Lion King and on Friends (and countless other films and TV shows whose names escape me), it ought to be beyond familiar but I think that the collective memory has reduced it to its chorus with little thought to anything else.

All that said, I don't love it. I can appreciate it and it can still be fun to sing along with but I don't need "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" in my life. I suppose something so omnipresent does not need to be sought out since it can reliably pop up at sports contests and in films and in shopping centres. I don't need it around even if I'd be the first to admit that the world would be a much worse place without it.

Score: 7

James Darren: "Goodbye Cruel World"

December 4, 1961 (1 week)

This blog began on July 1. (That's Canada Day, you know) At that time James Darren was still alive though he wasn't exactly well. It was during that summer that he would begin having heart problems. He passed away on September 2, 2024. He was eighty-eight.

Darren's death is a useful reminder that this project takes us back more than sixty years ago so it's inevitable that many of the subjects of these reviews are no longer with us. (I was going to count how many have expired until I realized that it was less work for me to keep tally of those who still among the living; in the end, I gave up trying to keep track) And, to be sure, there will be many more who have yet to come up who have since passed on — there may even be the odd one who expires before I get to him or her, not unlike James Darren.

In that spirit it's only right that Darren's number one song would have the title "Goodbye Cruel World". But while songs of the same name by Pink Floyd and Shakespears Sister respectively could at least allude to someone contemplating suicide, this one, composed by Gloria Shayne Baker — who would go on to co-write Christmastime favourite "Do You Hear What I Hear?" in 1962 — is about a foolish lad who has had his heartbroken and has decided to "go off and join the circus". As you do apparently. No, it sort of makes sense. Darren's character has been belittled and made a fool of and so the only place left for him is as a "brokenhearted clown". I get it.

Whatsmore, I kind of dig it. I was initially unimpressed, thinking that it was yet another lame novelty song but it proved to be something of a grower. Darren has an appropriately expressive voice for what is at its core a pretty silly song but he wisely chose not to ham it up. Honestly, between the calliope-like bit that repeats throughout, the sassy backing vocalists and a shit eating grin rhythm, there are more than enough light elements already without Darren getting in the way. While he sounds like he's having as much fun as anyone on this recording, playing it straight provides a much-needed anchor.

So, "Goodbye Cruel World" isn't actually about death. It wouldn't be until The Shangri-La's and their brilliant hit single "Leader of the Pack" that the concept of dying would be dealt with in a mainstream pop hit. Until then, jokey singles such as this one had to settle for escaping the clutches of a nasty woman and having to get picked up by P.T. Barnum. But Darren ought to know that it's not all smiles and sunshine in the circus. (In XTC's "Dear Madum Barnum", Andy Partridge "resigns as clown") Hell, it might even have made him want to take back that Jezebel of his.

Score: 7

Leroy Van Dyke: "Walk on By"

November 20, 1961 (2 weeks)

On September 25 ,1961, country singer Leroy Van Dyke's "Walk on By" succeeded George Jones' "Tender Years" at the top of Billboard's Hot Country Songs chart. This appeared to be a one-week wonder, however, as Jones returned to number one just seven days later. But Van Dyke wasn't done. "Walk on By" then returned to the top spot in mid-October, this time remaining for five weeks. It was then uprooted by fellow CHUM chart topper "Big Bad John". With six weeks in total on top and having already been deposed twice, it would've been reasonable to have expected it to gradually fade away but that was anything but the case. Van Dyke allowed Jimmy Dean a fortnight's reign and then came storming back one more time but now there was no removing it. "Walk on By" spent the last four weeks of '61 and then the first two months of the New Year with the number one spot locked up.

Nineteen bloody weeks, spread over just shy of half a year. Didn't the average American country music enthusiast ever get sick of it? It's probably fortunate that Canada didn't have a corresponding chart since it may well have gone on a similarly lengthy run. In the end, two weeks at the top of the pop charts north of the border was more than enough.

The American country charts have had some number one hits with remarkable longevity. Back in 2017, Sam Hunt absolutely obliterated the previous record for weeks on top with thirty-four with his single "Body Like a Back Road". The act he beat out? The duo of Tyler Hubbard and Bryan Kelley, better known as Florida Georgia Line, who, in turn, would come right back along with singer Bebe Ruxa for the smash "Meant to Be" which racked up fifty weeks on top. But this is by no means just a modern trend. Hits from the forties and fifties such as Hank Snow's "I'm Moving On" and Hank Williams' "Lovesick Blues" also enjoyed extended stays at the top, albeit for "only" fifteen to twenty weeks. (There is, however, a noticeable gap from the mid-sixties through to the millennium when one to five weeks at number one was the norm)

Honestly, I don't know what's so special about any of these songs that merited such lengthy periods on top. There's nothing particularly wrong with any of them, mind you. Buck Owens, the country artist I keep name-dropping in this space (in no small part because I'm disappointed that he won't be coming up), had many number ones on the Billboard country charts, including six weeks for "I Don't Care (Just as Long as You Love Me)" and five for "I've Got a Tiger by the Tail" which both seem perfectly reasonable for such great songs. But sixteen for "Love's Gonna Live Here"? Seriously?

Which brings us back to Leroy Van Dyke. "Walk on By" is a nice little tune. Kind of jaunty but also somewhat poignant. You don't have to be a country fan from southern Alberta to identify with being in a new relationship but still holding a candle for the one that came before and being forced into not acknowledging them. Songs about bumping into people are supposed to bring out feelings that have been hidden deep down but what about the awkwardness that almost always comes about. (I once introduced a current girlfriend to one of my exes and the tension was just the worst; though far from ideal, I'd much rather snub a former lover than repeat that situation ever again) It's a pretty good song that I have no problem with other than the fact that it was way too popular on the American country charts. (Not that I wish to punish it — the score I've given it below would be the same either way)

Country songs did well on the CHUM charts during the late stages of 1961 — in addition to "Walk on By", C&W hits "Johnny Willow", "Big Bad John" and "You're the Reason" all went to number one — but this wasn't to last. With the British Invasion in full swing, a national country chart would be established in Canada in the second half of '64. While there would occasionally be crossover hits from that point forward, most country music would be consigned to their own listing. Monster hits would come along but the bulk of them would be for the preserve of country radio and country listeners. The rest of us were denied them — either that or we were spared, depending on how you want to look at it.

Score: 6

Entires by Score: Turn the Jukebox Way Down Low

10

Bobby Darin: "Mack the Knife"

Jørgen Ingmann: "Apache"

The Tornados: "Telstar"

The Beatles: "All My Loving" / "This Boy"

Guess Who? (aka Chad Allan and the Expressions): "Shakin' All Over"

The Beatles: "Ticket to Ride"

9

The Bobbettes: "Mr. Lee"

Elvis Presley: "Jailhouse Rock"

The Everly Brothers: "All I Have to Do Is Dream"

The Platters: "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes"

The Ventures: "Walk — Don't Run"

The Marcels: "Blue Moon"

Del Shannon: "Runaway"

Dion: "Runaround Sue"

Skeeter Davis: "The End of the World"

The Kingsmen: "Louie Louie"

The Beatles: "She Loves You"

The Four Seasons: "Rag Doll"

The Beatles: "A Hard Day's Night"

The Supremes: "Where Did Our Love Go"

The Four Seasons: "Save It for Me"

The Beach Boys: "When I Grow Up (To Be a Man)"

The Supremes: "Come See About Me"

The Righteous Brothers: "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling"

Jay and the Americans: "Let's Lock the Door (and Throw Away the Key)"

The Beatles: "Help!"

The Toys: "A Lover's Concerto"

Bob Dylan: "Positively 4th Street"

The Rolling Stones: "As Tears Go By"

8

The Everly Brothers: "Wake Up Little Susie"

Billy Vaughn: "Sail Along Silvery Moon"

Connie Francis: "Who's Sorry Now?"

Conway Twitty: "It's Only Make Believe"

Marty Robbins: "El Paso"

Jimmie Rodgers: "The Wreck of the John B"

Bert Kaempfert: "Wonderland by Night"

Gary U.S. Bonds: "Quarter to Three"

Elvis Presley: "Little Sister" / "(Marie's the Name) His Latest Flame"

Gene Chandler: "Duke of Earl"

The Shirelles: "Soldier Boy"

Neil Sedaka: "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do"

Little Eva: "The Loco-Motion"

The Four Seasons: "Sherry"

The Crystals: "He's a Rebel"

Lesley Gore: "It's My Party"

The Beatles: "I Want to Hold Your Hand" / "I Saw Her Standing There"

Jan and Dean: "The Little Old Lady (from Pasadena)"

Roy Orbison: "Oh, Pretty Woman"

The Honeycombs: "Have I the Right?"

Sandie Shaw: "(There's) Always Something There to Remind Me"

Little Anthony and the Imperials: "Goin' Out of My Head"

The Beatles: "Eight Days a Week"

The Yardbirds: "For Your Love"

The Statler Brothers: "Flowers on the Wall"

The Beatles: "We Can Work It Out"

Nancy Sinatra: "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'"

7

Elvis Presley: "All Shook Up"

Jimmy Dorsey with Orchestra and Chorus: "So Rare"

The Rays: "Silhouettes"

Sam Cooke: "You Send Me"

The Silhouettes: "Get a Job"

The Champs: "Tequila"

Elvis Presley: "Hard Headed Woman"

The Everly Brothers: "Bird Dog" / "Devoted to You"

The Teddy Bears: "To Know Him Is to Love Him"

The Fleetwoods: "Come Softly to Me"

Phil Phillips with The Twilights: "Sea of Love"

The Fleetwoods: "Mr. Blue"

Jim Reeves: "He'll Have to Go"

Connie Francis: "Everybody's Somebody's Fool" / "Jealous of You"

Elvis Presley: "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" / "I Gotta Go"

Neil Sedaka: "Calendar Girl"

Ricky Nelson: "Hello Mary Lou" / "Travelin' Man"

Del Shannon: "Hats Off to Larry"

James Darren: "Goodbye Cruel World"

The Tokens: "The Lion Sleeps Tonight"

Chubby Checker: "The Twist"

Ernie Maresca: "Shout! Shout! (Knock Yourself Out)"

Ray Charles: "I Can't Stop Loving You" / "Born to Lose"

The Four Seasons: "Walk Like a Man"

Cliff Richard and The Shadows: "Summer Holiday" / "Dancing Shoes"

Jackie DeShannon: "Needles and Pins"

The Dixie Cups: "Chapel of Love"

The Beach Boys: "I Get Around"

The Animals: "The House of the Rising Sun"

The Beatles: "I Feel Fine"

Unit 4 + 2: "Concrete and Clay"

Jackie DeShannon: "What the World Needs Now Is Love"

Roy Orbison: "Ride Away"

The Walker Brothers: "Make It Easy on Yourself"

The Vogues: "Five O'Clock World"

Chris Andrews: "Yesterday Man"

Lou Christie: "Lightnin' Strikes"

6

The Chantels: "Maybe"

Elvis Presley: "Wear My Ring Around Your Neck"

Bobby Freeman: "Do You Want to Dance"

Elvis Presley: "One Night" / "I Got Stung"

Ritchie Valens: "Donna" / "La Bamba"

Elvis Presley: "A Big Hunk o' Love" / "My Wish Came True"

Guy Mitchell: "Heartaches by the Number"

Bob Luman: "Let's Think About Living"

The Drifters: "Save the Last Dance for Me"

Elvis Presley: "Surrender" / "Lonely Man"

Roy Orbison: "Running Scared"

Barry Mann: "Who Put the Bomp (in the Bomp, Bomp, Bomp)"

Bobby Edwards: "You're the Reason"

Leroy Van Dyke: "Walk on By"

Claude King: "Wolverton Mountain"

Brian Hyland: "Sealed with a Kiss"

Elvis Presley: "Return to Sender"

The Rooftop Singers: "Walk Right In"

The Chiffons: "He's So Fine"

Richie Knight and the Mid-Knights: "Charlena"

Doris Troy: "Just One Look"

Bobby Vinton: "Blue Velvet"

Jimmy Gilmer and the Fireballs: "Sugar Shack"

Jay and the Americans: "Come a Little Bit Closer"

Petula Clark: "I Know a Place"

The Beach Boys: "Help Me, Rhonda"

Jay and the Americans: "Cara Mia"

Johnny Rivers: "Seventh Son"

Eddie Rambeau: "My Name Is Mud"

The Fortunes: "You've Got Your Troubles"

Billy Joe Royal: "I Knew You When"

The Dave Clark Five: "Over and Over"

Petula Clark: "My Love"

5

Elvis Presley: "(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear"

Jimmy Rodgers: "Honeycomb"

Bill Justis: "Raunchy"

Danny & The Juniors: "At the Hop"

David Seville: "Witch Doctor"

Ricky Nelson: "Poor Little Fool"

Jack Scott: "My True Love"

Tommy Edwards: "It's All in the Game"

The Coasters: "Charlie Brown"

Buddy Holly: "It Doesn't Matter Anymore"

Elvis Presley: "(Now and Then) There's a Fool Such as I" / "I Need Your Love Tonight"

Jimmy Clanton: "Go, Jimmy, Go"

Mark Dinning: "Teen Angel"

Johnny & The Hurricanes: "Beatnik Fly"

The Browns: "The Old Lamplighter"

Jeanne Black: "He'll Have to Stay"

Elvis Presley: "It's Now or Never" / "A Mess of Blues"

Pat Boone: "Moody River"

Bobby Vee: "Take Good Care of My Baby"

Shelley Fabares: "Johnny Angel"

Elvis Presley: "Good Luck Charm" / "Anything That's Part of You"

Eddie Hodges: "(Girls, Girls, Girls) Made to Love"

Bobby "Boris" Pickett: "Monster Mash"

The Four Seasons: "Big Girls Don't Cry"

Little Peggy March: "I Will Follow Him"

Gerry and the Pacemakers: "I'm the One"

Peter and Gordon: "A World Without Love"

Johnny Rivers: "Memphis"

Elvis Presley: "Ain't That Lovin' You Baby"

Petula Clark: "Downtown"

Georgie Fame and the Blue Flames: "Yeh, Yeh"

The Supremes: "Back in My Arms Again"

Billy Joe Royal: "Down in the Boondocks"

Sonny and Cher: "I Got You Babe"

Barry McGuire: "Eve of Destruction"

The T-Bones: "No Matter What Shape (Your Stomach's In)"

4

Pat Boone: "Love Letters in the Sand"

Paul Anka: "Diana"

Elvis Presley: "I Beg of You" / "Don't"

Chuck Berry: "Sweet Little Sixteen"

Robin Luke: "Susie Darlin'"

The Kingston Trio: "Tom Dooley"

Frankie Avalon: "Venus"

Travis & Bob: "Tell Him No"

Wilbert Harrison: "Kansas City"

Ivo Robić: "Morgen"

Johnny Horton: "Sink the Bismark"

Elvis Presley: "Stuck on You" / "Fame and Fortune"

Hank Locklin: "Please Help Me, I'm Falling"

Andy Stewart: "A Scottish Soldier"

Bobby Vinton: "Roses Are Red (My Love)"

Tommy Roe: "Sheila"

Inez Foxx: "Mockingbird"

Manfred Mann: "Do Wah Diddy Diddy"

Bobby Vinton: "Mr. Lonely"

The Four Seasons: "Bye, Bye, Baby (Baby Goodbye)"

Herman's Hermits: "Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Daughter"

Freddie and the Dreamers: "I'm Telling You Now"

Eddie Rambeau: "Concrete and Clay"

Herman's Hermits: "Wonderful World"

Tom Jones: "What's New Pussycat?"

Sonny and Cher: "Baby Don't Go"

The Rolling Stones: "Get Off of My Cloud"

Little Caesar and the Consuls: "You've Really Got a Hold on Me"

The Dave Clark Five: "At the Scene"

Herman's Hermits: "Listen People"

3

Bobby Helms: "My Special Angel"

The Chipmunks with David Seville: "The Chipmunk Song"

Johnny Horton: "The Battle of New Orleans"

Lonnie Donegan: "My Old Man's a Dustman"

Brian Hyland: "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini"

Lolita: "Sailor (Your Home Is the Sea)"

Johnny Horton: "North to Alaska"

Jimmy Dean: "Big Bad John"

Ned Miller: "From a Jack to a King"

The Cascades: "Rhythm of the Rain"

Elvis Presley: "(You're the) Devil in Disguise"

The Singing Nun: "Dominique"

The Dave Clark Five: "Bits and Pieces"

Lorne Green: "Ringo"

Gerry and the Pacemakers: "I'll Be There"

Herman's Hermits: "Silhouettes"

Gary Lewis and the Playboys: "Save Your Heart for Me"

David and Jonathan: "Michelle"

2

The Chordettes: "Lollipop"

The Browns: "The Three Bells"

Johnny Preston: "Running Bear"

Eddie Hodges: "I'm Gonna Knock on Your Door"

Charlie Drake: "My Boomerang Won't Come Back"

Paul & Paula: "Hey Paula"

Cliff Richard: "It's All in the Game"

The Kingsmen: "The Jolly Green Giant"

Sonny: "Laugh at Me"

1

Sheb Wooley: "The Purple People Eater"

David Seville & The Chipmunks: "Alvin's Harmonica"

Anita Bryant: "Paper Roses"

Andy Stewart: "Donald, Where's Your Troosers?"

Fred Darian: "Johnny Willow"

The Newbeats: "Bread and Butter"

Bobby Vinton: "L-O-N-E-L-Y"

The Wonder Who?: "Don't Think Twice"

Dion: "Runaround Sue"

October 30, 1961 (3 weeks)

"It was a different time"

Yes, it certainly was. Possessiveness. Paranoia. Jealousy. The feeling that you're owed something. Making everything about yourself. Why must I be a teenager in love?

When people say "it was a different time" they're typically referring to a bygone era of sexism, racism and homophobia as if trying to explain it all away. But what if instead it's supposed to be about different time in a young man's life prior to maturity and experience setting in? A time when a relationship could go tits up and he didn't think the whole world was about to come crashing down because of it?

Dion DiMucci was twenty-two years old when "Runaround Sue" gave him a breakthrough solo hit. Admittedly, he should've known better by this point in his life (I was a lovelorn seventeen-year-old when I scribbled some similarly vindictive — if far less creatively successful — poems; I would go on to have another decade-and-a-half of bad relationships but I did learn how to deal with them) Still, hopefully he ended up growing out of it. It's said that he wound up marrying the very same Sue a couple years later so I think it's safe to say he learned a thing or two along the way.

Nevertheless, a great song can overcome an awful lot of baggage. The sentiments behind "Runaround Sue" may be somewhat problematic but at least they inspired a pretty fantastic tune and a well-deserved number one on both the CHUM charts and the Hot 100. Whatsmore, this was still just the late stages of 1961, a time when autobiographical songcraft had yet to be invented. (The week after "Runaround Sue" was dethroned from its place at the top of the Canadian charts, Bob Dylan began recording what would become his self-titled debut album, an LP which contained only two original works; The Beatles, meanwhile, were being headhunted by a local record store owner named Brian Epstein, with little thought at the time for the potential of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting team)

Songs of teenage heartbreak have always been the backbone of popular music and they were everywhere in 1961 — always, it should be noted, from the male perspective. Del Shannon's "Runaway" and "Has Off to Larry", Roy Orbison's "Running Scared" (an awful lot of them have the word 'run' in the title, don't they?), Eddie Hodges' "I'm Gonna Knock on Your Door" and Bobby Vee's "Take Good Care of My Baby" were all chart toppers that with tales of love gone wrong from a wide variety of perspectives. If we're to judge them on a scale from angelic to devilish, "Runaround Sue" would probably fall somewhere in the middle, nowhere close to as well-meaning as Vee but not nearly as horrible and stalkerish as the seemingly prepubescent Hodges.

In any case, it's still an absolute banger, with Dion's doo-wop background from his days with The Belmonts being put to very good use. The "bom-ba, hey-dey, hey-dey, hey" backing vocals are iconic, perhaps the most distinctive of the era. And Dion sells it like a champ too. Though he sounds pitiful on the opening ("here's my story, it's sad but true..."), he soon manages to get away with being a giant prick, possibly because there's fire in his voice but no real vengfulness to it. There's way too much fun to be had to worry too much about Dion being a bit of a creep. And it was 1961 and he was twenty-two: it was a different time, man!

Score: 9

Bobby Edwards: "You're the Reason"

October 16, 1961 (2 weeks)

The acclaimed Scottish TV writer and creator Armando Iannucci is something of a classical music buff. When asked what could be done to increase the popularity of the genre among younger people, he is adamant that we've got to stop comparing the great composers to rock stars. And who can blame him? We've already ruined country and jazz musicians so let's lay off people like Beethoven, Mozart and Bach.

Approaching supposedly old-fashioned genres can be daunting so perhaps it's natural that we tend to use references that we're comfortable with. Jazz artists like Miles Davis (moody, constantly shifting), John Coltrane (obsessive about his instrument, star-crossed), Thelonious Monk (singular, unique) and Charles Mingus (confrontational, uncompromising) are the individuals we tend to gravitate towards because they were not unlike indulgent, self-destructive rock stars. (Giants like Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington and the Modern Jazz Quartet are less in line with rock cliches and are, thus, largely ignored by youngsters).

The same goes for country acts. "Outlaws" like Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson and Gram Parsons are often revered while the cheerful Buck Owens, who at his peak in the sixties was as big or bigger than any of them, is barely acknowledged anymore. The same goes for crooners like George Jones. Simply because they didn't pretend to be rugged highwaymen, there isn't the romance attached to more conventional types. It matters little that Owens was an accomplished songwriter and had in the Buckaroos perhaps the finest band of the era aside from The Beatles and Miles Davis' Second Great Quintet. Not does the fact Jones was a formidable composer in his own right and that he had maybe the best singing voice of his generation.

Bobby Edwards is at a similar disadvantage but his status as a bit of a one-hit wonder makes him even less likely to catch on with audiences today. (I had never heard of him until very recently and I'm rather ashamed to admit that I had him confused with Tommy Edwards of "It's All in the Game" fame; to be fair, I think they could've both done terrific cover versions of each other's CHUM chart toppers) As a matter of fact, bringing him up in the company of Owens and Jones does him no favours as well. Yet, there's plenty to like about his one smash "You're the Reason" if you're able to look past him clearly not being "like a rock star".

Yet, it's Hank Williams, the prototype rock 'n' roller, who is all over Edwards' sole Canadian number one hit. "You're the Reason" is paced similarly to "You're Gonna Change (or I'm Gonna Leave)", though naturally minus the original's dry wit. Listening to some of Edwards' stuff, he sounds very much like a disciple of Williams in the same way that Badfinger took after The Beatles: while gifted, he couldn't possibly have found his way out of the bigger man's shadow. That said, with Nashville have gone so horribly mainstream in the years following Williams' death in 1953, it's refreshing to hear something so unabashedly old school. The hallmarks of hillbilly folk music — Edwards hitting those whiny high notes, twinkling piano, group of good ol' southern gentlemen on backing vocals — are so prevalent that you might as well be listening to it through the old coffin-shape cabinet stereo that belonged to your grandparents.

Being rather milquetoast, derivative and filled with country music cliches, "You're the Reason" ought to be just the sort of thing that deserves to be overlooked by twenty-first century listeners. But there's something there. It's lovely and there are certainly worse ways to spend two-and-a-half minutes of your day. Not a ringing endorsement, no, but there should always be a place for the perfectly good to have a moment. Not a rock star — not even much of a country music star — but a serviceable figure for those points when the music scene isn't exactly loaded with superstar talent. Plus, a welcome reminder that there's good music to be found far beyond where the critics and the cool kids dwell.

Score: 6

Jimmy Dean: "Big Bad John"

October 9, 1961 (1 week)

"Before you ask," Tom Breihan states at the beginning of his review of this song, "yes, the Jimmy Dean who hit #1 with "Big Bad John" was the Jimmy Dean Sausages Jimmy Dean". Oh, that Jimmy Dean. The Sausage King of Plainview, Texas. Glad you cleared that up.

The American new cycle has recently been dominated by stories of the murder of a CEO for a giant health insurance company. His killer had managed to evade authorities for a few days before being spotted in a McDonald's. Many expressed disappointment that he got snitched on but at least everyone knows his name. How long before "Song for Luigi" or "The Ballad of Luigi Mangione" is released as a result? Actually, it could be a quite a wait since hardly anyone composes songs about outlaws with heroic motives anymore. But if anyone is looking to do so, there are a couple of great examples to model it on.

"Pretty Boy Floyd" was written by Woody Guthrie back in 1939 as a tribute to the Great Depression-era bank robber Charles Arthur Floyd but I am most familiar with it due to a cover by The Byrds on their landmark country-rock album Sweetheart of the Rodeo. "John Wesley Harding"  is the title track from Bob Dylan's eighth studio LP release, a stark and stripped-down affair that I really have to be in the mood for. Both tell of wanted criminals who actually had hearts of gold when it came to giving back to the poor. The actual John Wesley Hardin didn't do a whole lot for the everyday folk and Chuck Floyd just burnt several mortgage documents but it wasn't as if these people were Robin Hoods come to life. But being troubled individuals living on the wrong side of the law, their good deeds ought to be commended all the more.

"Big Bad John" probably ought to fit into that tradition except that rather than being a folk and/or country ballad coming straight out of or inspired by the Dust Bowl, it is a part of that laughably bad trend of hokey folklore anthems that record buyers in North America and beyond couldn't seem to get enough of around this time. My disdain for these hits goes without saying by this point but it might be worth looking at why so many became suckered in enchanted by them.

Jimmy Dean's narration may be a part of it. He sounds like an ancient old man providing the voice-over work for a western film. This might have proved an effective device had it been used solely for the song's (non-existent) bridge but for a full two-and-a-half minutes, it gets a little much. Compounding the problem are the backing vocalists who really seem intent on making sure we all understand the gravity of this John guy and just how big and just how bad he is. Mythology is a vital part of numbers like "Pretty Boy Floyd" and "John Wesley Harding" but not to the extent of having to lay it on so thick as Dean and his mates did. This being the age of cowboy TV series like Bonanza and Gunsmoke, over-idealizing the heroes was very much the fashionable thing to do which Dean was right to go along with.

In a way, "Big Bad John" is like a conservative response to Guthrie's Floyd. What you have is someone who is only said to have come from Louisiana where he got into a fight over a "Cajun Queen" but in reality he's just a gentle giant, quiet and unassuming but no doubt the sort of burly fella you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of. The mine he's been toiling in collapses one day and he rescues every one of his co-workers but then tragically perishes himself. Not a word on the evil corporation who neglected to follow safety procedures and nothing on good ol' John being a criminal. Just a hero who gave his life.

I suppose I'd be a slightly better person if I could appreciate this but it's too damn dreary — and I say that as someone who quite likes the song "John Wesley Harding", which isn't exactly a catchy dance-pop hit either. It's incredible to think that legendary country songwriter Roy Acuff (of Acuff-Rose fame) actually helped out with the lyrics which makes me wonder how uninspired it must've been prior his involvement. The anti-hero of John Wesley Hardin(g), Pretty Boy Floyd and even Luigi Mangione makes for a much more fascinating character to root for and understand while the more one dimensional Big Bad John just isn't compelling enough. We might admire his sacrifice but let's save the adoration for those who deserve it.

Score: 3

Bobby Vee: "Take Good Care of My Baby"

September 18, 1961 (3 weeks)

It's amazing to think that Bobby Vee's career in pop music began because of the tragic deaths of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper but that's exactly what happened. The plane crash that would eventually became known as The Day the Music Died threatened to cancel the show the rock 'n' roll stars were supposed to play the next night in Moorhead, Minnesota until a group of youngsters stepped in to fill the void. (In this day and age, such a tragic occurrence would have resulted in the concert being called off out of respect for the deceased but people back in the fifties were built from sturdier stuff and weren't such sensitive snowflakes) Fifteen-year-old Bobby Vee filled the void and this managed to kick start his life in showbiz. Opportunity sometimes presents itself in some unlikely places.

Speaking of unlikely, the man born Robert Thomas Velline later befriended another young performer who had the same Christian name as him and who came from the state right next door to his native North Dakota. Robert Zimmerman was a young singer-songwriter from Hibbing, Minnesota who took on the name Elston Gunnn (no, those three n's are not a misprint) as a member of Vee's touring group. Later, as Bob Dylan, he would be reverently of the singer, claiming that sharing a stage with him meant more to him than the many, many subsequent stars he would go on to perform with.

Bobby Vee's story really ought to be the subject of a bestselling book. (Either that or it already has been and I'm just not aware of it) For that matter, why hasn't it been made into a Hollywood biopic? (Again, perhaps it already has been and I'm just woefully uninformed) Such a fascinating life story deserves such treatments. Too bad his music is so pleasant but ordinary.

Tom Breihan is as underwhelmed by "Take Good Care of My Baby" as I am but he maintains that it's still a "good song". I'm not so sure of that. I'm as indifferent to the composition as I am to Vee's recording. Breihan's main beef is with the vocal not being regretful and pained enough. Maybe but having a lighter, more optimistic take on it has merit too. Vee comes across as the bigger man by imparting some advice on his ex's new beau. It sounds like he's trying his best to move on even if he clearly hasn't. In any case, Vee gives a perfectly adequate performance of a very average song.

It really isn't one of the stronger efforts from the renowned spousal songwriting team of Gerry Goffin and Carol King. Not as hook-filled, not as immediate, not as memorable, not as, not as, not as. Funnily enough, while I can still barely recall the bulk of it — despite having been listening to it steadily over the past week — I keep being reminded of "Don't Say Nothin' Bad (About My Baby)", a similarly titled song from 1963 by The Cookies which was written by...(checks notes)...Goffin/King! It's like they got better at their craft or something!

All that said, "Take Good Care of My Baby" is just fine if very unremarkable. The only real blunder is the double-tracking on the chorus. At least John Lennon had the decency to have his voice thickened throughout entire songs he was singing but the use of a single Vee on the verses with another one joining him on the chorus is way too distracting. Couldn't they have had someone step in on backing vocals instead? If there's one other problem it's that this passable hit doesn't come close to measuring up to the kind of life Bobby Vee lived. Get on that book and/or movie pronto — unless, of course, they already exist in which case what the hell am I waiting for?

Score: 5

Elvis Presley: "Little Sister" / "(Marie's the Name) His Latest Flame"

September 11, 1961 (1 week)

So far, Elvis Presley's thirteen number one hits — which doesn't include this, his fourteenth — have earned scores of 7, 5, 9, 4, 6, 7, 6, 5, 6, 4, 5, 7 and 6 respectively. This begs an important question: when exactly did he really start to suck, at least on a consistent basis? For sure scores of four or five out of ten are underwhelming but they point to a certain degree of indifference, rather than anything he recorded at the time being outright terrible. Plus, the lower scored number ones are spread out, covering the pre-army period, material released while he was being deployed to Germany and post-honourable discharge.  

To his credit, Elvis seemed to be able to read the room. His run of hits inspired by Italian operas and so forth had been successful but it was proving to be a creative dead end and there were only so many of them that the fans could take — and they may not have been alone in this regard. "It's Now or Never", "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" and "Surrender" had all been beautifully sung by The King but none of them felt like true Elvis numbers; had he not done them, someone else would have and they probably would've been almost as good.

The double A-side of "Little Sister" and "(Marie's the Name) His Latest Flame" are a pair of songs that only Presley could have done, to the extent that it's almost as if he wrote them. Of course, this was not the case at all, with the latter having previously been recorded by Del Shannon earlier in 1961 for his debut album Runaway with Del Shannon. (Both, however, were penned by the duo of Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman, who had experience writing for Elvis as well as being responsible for fellow CHUM number ones "Go, Jimmy, Go" and "Save the Last Dance for Me") While the original has some neat musical ideas and Shannon had a great voice in his own right, he simply doesn't convince to anywhere near the same extent as Elvis. To be fair, he was hardly the only one who suffers by comparison: Morrissey effortlessly glides through a snippet of the lyrics on a medley paired with The Smiths' "Rusholme Ruffians"; while the end result on their so-so live album Rank does include a very clever key change, it's inclusion is largely pointless, only reaffirming the fact that Moz wasn't The King.

"Little Sister" is the lesser of the two but not by a whole lot. It's a straightforward blues tune with a rockabilly beat that really gives you an idea of why the members of Elvis' backing band — including longtime mates Scotty Moore and DJ Fontana, as well as lead guitarist Hank Garland — were some of the best in the business. The Jordanaires are barely noticeable which is, frankly, how they are best appreciated. And Elvis himself is in exceptional form, sounding moody, sexy and just a little bit callous all at once. Indeed, he rarely sounded as good as on either side of this single.

This blog has been covering a great deal of Elvis. Over the course of the fourteen reviews I have written, I have gone through a number of stages. I started off with a dual sense of "Elvis is a lot better than I remember" and "he sure could be erratic". Since then, I have been going back-and-forth between getting awfully sick of him while also feeling I ought to stand up for him in the face of many critics and purists who wish he could've remained the uncorrupted wild youth of his Sun period. As we get more and more into the sixties, I am beginning to wonder if his recorded output is a good deal more respectable than they would have you believe. Of course, it's likely that his worst stuff didn't get to anywhere near the top of the charts but the fact that he was still able to put out excellent songs like "Little Sister" and "His Latest Flame" indicates that the quality control hadn't fallen away completely. And I'm beginning to wonder if it ever really did. Was Elvis capable of being as good as ever despite no longer being at his peak? He certainly could be.

Score: 8

Fred Darian: "Johnny Willow"

September 4, 1961 (1 week)

The blues-rock, country-rock and folk-rock booms of the late sixties brought acid rock to an end. The rise of disco proved to be too much for funk. Metal couldn't survive the grunge movement of the early nineties. None of these things really occurred but we tend to believe them because of the convenience of the narrative of each. But for all The Band, Donna Summer and Nirvana (allegedly) did to kill entire genre, they couldn't hope to come close to The Beatles, a group that kicked off plenty of musical trends while aiding in the destruction of others.

For one, the instrumental beat combos that have been a welcome presence so far on this blog began to disappear. Sure, The Shadows had a couple more good years in them but their chart positions began to erode almost as soon as the Fab Four came on to the scene. (The one other exception was Booker T and the MG's, who supplemented their handful of hit singles by being the backing band to a whole generation of soul singers) So, too, did the good-natured and youthful crooners who filled the void between Elvis' entry into the US army and the emergence of The Beatles. And then there were the storytelling balladeers who had to slink back to the folk club circuit once the British Invasion was in full swing. The days of The Kingston Trio, Johnny Horton, Jimmie Rodgers and Andy Stewart having number ones on the CHUM chart were numbered. (Meanwhile, the folk acts who adapted — The Byrds, The Mamas and the Papas, Simon & Garfunkel, even Bob Dylan — ended up thriving)

Fred Darian's "Johnny Willow" feels like the last of its kind. I don't know if this actually the case but certainly there was less of a demand for an anthem about a boy who signs up to serve in the Second World War than there may have been a few years earlier. Just as Rodgers' "The Wreck of the John B" massively underperformed Stateside, Darian's battle cry dropped to an increasingly disinterested American public. It only just dented the Hot 100, peaking at a very modest number ninety-six. Yet, Canadians wanted more of this kind of thing and for some unknown reason my countrymen couldn't get enough of it — for one week at least.

The appeal of most of those folksy ballads is lost on me (with "John B" being the one exception) but some have the odd glimmer of a song people might want to listen to. Which brings us first to "Donald, Where's Your Trousers?": perhaps it was funny to hear Stewart performing it in the clubs but the recorded product is ghastly. The same goes for "Johnny Willow" although instead of botched humour, it is its attempt to be a stirring call-to-arms that falls completely flat. Maybe it's because of the cliched use of a snare drum or the fact that it sounds more like throwback to the American Revolution or Darian doing what amounts to a speed rap but it's excruciating in a way that the likes of "Honeycomb", "Tom Dooley" and even bloody "Running Bear" couldn't quite lower themselves to be.

The desire to listen to such drivel seemed to persist in Canada but not for much longer. Sgt. Barry Sadler's "The Ballad of the Green Berets" proved to be the biggest hit of 1966 in the United States but it only just managed to peak inside the Canadian Top 30 — and that's with all the TV appearances and radio play the single no doubt enjoyed north of the border. It's easy to imagine Canadians being completely sick of this type of thing by that point. Plus, they had better things to be listening to. The Beatles for one.

Score: 1