Tommy Roe: "Dizzy"

March 24, 1969 (1 week)

Perspective is everything. I first became aware of the song "Dizzy" when it was covered by British comedian Vic Reeves and popular grebo band The Wonder Stuff. I had been a fan of the "Stuffies" as a moody teenager and had been curious about this number one hit that they had seemingly out of nowhere at the end of 1991. It didn't seem to make it over to the other side of the Atlantic so it wouldn't be until around 1994 that I first heard it. Nevertheless, I was hooked. It was a curb stomping powerhouse of a record, the kind of thing could you dance to, pound your fist to, beat the crap out of someone to or just be a miserable sad sack to — and, if it was a particularly eventful day, you could do all of these things to it.

With all this in mind, approaching the original by Tommy Roe is a challenge. Far from the thrill ride racket of Reeves and the Stuffies, this "Dizzy" is laid back and hardly draws attention to itself. It is subtle. Roe sounds like a country singer who's had some good luck in his life for a change. It is only after a few listens that it becomes clear that he sounds dizzy. (The Reeves/Wonder Stuff cover does nothing of the sort, though it can make the listener feel this way — and I say this as someone who genuinely likes it) Roe's wooziness suddenly becomes something you can't not hear. It's as if he woke up from a concussion or a giant bender and was having trouble remembering his name. (Somehow he can still sing the lyrics to a song in this condition)

I appreciate all this about Roe's "Dizzy" but it still sounds like it needs a giant kick up the arse. While the singer communicates his stupor as well as can be expected, the studio musicians backing him let the side down with a puny effort, a child's Tonka truck when a genuine Jeep 4x4 was called for. This is what comes from too much reliance on the Wrecking Crew, a renowned studio band who turned in professional recordings on demand but who could seemingly phone it in when they didn't have a Phil Spector or a Brian Wilson to inspire and/or intimidate them. Being the best in the business (well, it was either them, Motown's Funk Brothers or Booker T. and the MG's out of the Memphis Studio) was all well and good but that didn't mean they were suited to back every solo artist in white American pop. Imagine what a garage rock group could've done with it instead of a bunch of Hollywood overachievers.

In short, Roe's "Dizzy" needs to sound much more like the Reeves/Wonder Stuff "Dizzy". It's likely that few thought so at the time but that's what a cover version that leaves a lasting impression can do. That said, a touch of dizziness wouldn't have hurt this remake either. Surely there's a happy medium and we're certainly due another prominent cover so if anyone's listening and is interested have at it. Or what about a clever mash up of the two? Are mash ups still a thing?

Score: 4

Tommy Roe: "Sweet Pea"

August 1, 1966 (1 week)

The late spring and first part of the summer had been a bit of a boom period for number ones on the RPM Top 100. Every chart topper from The Vogues' "Magic Town" up to The Beatles' "Paperback Writer" had been above average at minimum. You'd have to go all the way back to the first week of April in find the last dud, Peter and Gordon's horrendous "Woman". But ever since the Fab Four's twelfth number one (and counting), the quality had dipped considerably. While The Cyrkle's "Red Rubber Ball" didn't bother me too much, it also failed to thrill me and it ended up getting ranked right in the middle of the pack. Subsequent Canadian chart toppers, Crispian St. Peters' "The Pied Piper" and Tommy James and the Shondells' "Hanky Panky" weren't even up to The Cyrkle's modest standards.

Like The Cyrkle and the Shondells, Tommy Roe came from the United States. I had recently been praising American acts for attempting to rise to answer the challenge presented by The Beatles but there were many who weren't up to it. Roe had been a hit maker in North America well before the British Invasion and now he was returning to the top spot on the Canadian charts for the first time in nearly four years but you'd never know it listening to the results. If anything, Roe sounds like he has regressed somewhat on the creative end. And this is from a guy whose previous chart topper I slammed for his "slight" songwriting with "all-too-obvious rhymes" as well as being "tiresome and trite". While some of these same traits apply to "Sweet Pea", he did so while making an even worse pop hit.

When comparing "Sweet Pea" to "Sheila", there is one thing the former has going for it: every second of that moronic chorus stays with you. I have a dreadful feeling that "oh, sweet pea, come on and dance with me..." is going to be coming back to me for years to come. It serves me bloody right since I was so keen to point out the last time how thoroughly unmemorable his last effort was.

Otherwise, "Sweet Pea" is pitiful. Aside from an ever-present high-pitched organ, there's nothing to suggest Roe had been absorbing the best of what was on offer in '66. Perhaps the likes of Herman's Hermits and Peter and Gordon had been far more influential on him than The Beatles and Bob Dylan but more likely is that he was just doing what Tommy Roe did best: writing irritating earworms in his very 'awe shucks' manner which ought to have died out by the mid-sixties but kept coming back. While the masters were all thriving, there was still a place for the pop stars no one needed but who just wouldn't go the hell away. Just wait and see how he does with the Woodstock crowd.

Score: 3

Tommy Roe: "Sheila"

August 27, 1962 (1 week)

Just as they were becoming famous, The Beatles began appearing on package concerts around the UK. These shows typically had at least half-a-dozen performers, some having already passed their peak, others at the height of fame and others trying to make a name for themselves. John, Paul, George and Ringo started off just happy to be there but before long they had become the sensations of Britain.

Famously, their package tour headlined by teenage English vocalist Helen Shapiro was marked by a noticeable decline in her career prospects just as theirs was on the rise. She had been one of the UK's most successful artists at the beginning of 1963 but by year's end she was all but finished; they, in turn, went from barely known to the four most recognizable faces in the entire country. She might have become bitter by this turn of events but she hit it off with them and only ever had good things to say about the time in which the biggest band that ever lived opened for her.

But not everyone had their showbiz careers ruined by The Beatles during this period. Stars Chris Montez and Tommy Roe were both similarly upstaged by the Fab Four on another package tour and their prospects certainly derailed but they weren't quite finished. Roe, in particular, would get through the ordeal, scoring a second number one on the Hot 100 just as The Beatles were coming apart. (In Canada, Roe would have a three chart toppers, the third, conveniently, in the midst of the Fabs' creative peak)

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. In the late stages of the summer of '62, The Beatles had yet to record "Love Me Do", 'fab' had not yet entered the common parlance and neither had the term 'bubblegum' — unless, of course, you're referring to the pink chewing gum instead of the throwaway brand of pop.

Some genres and sub-genres of music are named retroactively. The most famous is Yacht Rock from the seventies and early eighties. It was known simply as soft rock back in its heyday but has since been re-christened after an online comedy series in 2005 of the same name. Less well-remembered is its British cousin Sophisti-pop which I don't recall even having a name at the height of ABC, Prefab Sprout, Scritti Politti and The Style Council. (I've also heard the term 'Soulcialism' used more recently which I've always thought to be more apt). Bubblegum was not similarly named after the fact. It had been used for "groups" like The Archies as pop music began to make a comeback in the face of all this late sixties' rock.

It turns out, bubblegum has some strict definitions. The Monkees have even been excluded, possibly on the grounds that they proved to be far more creative than they had been expected to be. Tommy Roe would become identified with it when "Dizzy" became a global smash in 1969 — to the extent that his whole career came to be defined as such, even though he was having hits years before anyone had used the term.

In a sense, I suppose "Sheila" is bubblegum. Then again, so was a lot of early sixties' pop. When the bulk of the mainstream music is highly disposable, it's difficult for any particular singers or groups to stand out. On the other hand, Roe was clearly aspiring towards being the next Buddy Holly. Between his vocal mannerisms, the rhythm guitar and the drumming, "Sheila" sounds like it was lifted directly from "Peggy Sue". No one considered Holly bubblegum so why should one of his musical descendants?

Still, bubblegum or not, I'm not fussed by this. While the musicianship is more than credible, the songwriting is slight with all-too-obvious rhymes. Like a good deal of cheap pop, it seems nice enough while it's on but it becomes forgotten about almost as soon as it comes to an end. Whatsmore, it goes downhill with each subsequent listen: what seems like good, harmless fun at first, quickly becomes tiresome and trite in short order.

The poptimist movement of the early 2000's really did a lot of good in terms to ridding the world of that ludicrous idea that the likes of ABBA, Bee Gees and Carpenters were 'guilty pleasures' but it has plenty to answer for as well, not the least of which being that pop should unquestionably be taken seriously when not all of it deserves to be. Some bubblegum is decent but much of it is as disposable as we'd previously been led to believe. Think about it this way: as a kid, Hubba Bubba was the gum to go for. It had the best flavours (even if I'll never understand what was so great about watermelon), it blew the best bubbles and it remained a softer chew for longer. At the other end of the spectrum was Juicy Fruit, which scarcely seemed like bubblegum at all. The flavour would vanish in seconds, you could hardly get a bubble out of a single piece and its dull grey appearance was hardly appetizing. Like the gum, bubblegum pop could vary in quality, from those who lasted to those who rapidly fell apart.

On the other hand, Tommy Roe may have been the Juicy Fruit of pop but at least he wasn't the Thrills gum.

Score: 4