MY FAVORITE ONE-HIT WONDER (Not Quite Random Favorites…In No Particular Order)

Aww, come on. Nobody who knows the heart of rock and roll has one single all time once and forever favorite one-hit wonder. You think it’s remotely possible? Take a look at, say, 1961:

That’s just a sampling of the vocal groups. In 1961 It doesn’t even include the all time homage to the vocal groups…In 1961

And it doesn’t include (from 1961) something like this…

Which, believe me, actually would put this otherwise impossible argument to an end, except Dick and Dee Dee actually had other hits (not that you’d know this by listening to your average oldies’ station or probably even a really great oldies’ station, for the last fifty years and counting).

That’s just a glimpse into one aspect of a single year, a year that, according to many a certified crit-illuminati¬†scribe was rock and roll’s nadir from which we never would have been saved if the British hadn’t invaded a few years later. And I’m not even saying I love every one of those records up there enough to put them in a serious competition for the title of my favorite one-hit wonder (though I’d certainly include a few of them).

Start counting surf instrumentals or Troy Shondell doing “This Time” or Freddie King doing “Hideaway” or Ernie K-Doe doing “Mother-In-Law” or any of a few dozen others that I could imagine being somebody’s favorite even if they wouldn’t quite be mine (well, maybe “Mother-In-Law”) and you begin to see the pure ridiculousness of the exercise.

Like I said. Impossible. Crazy. Even to pick a favorite, forget a best or greatest. Just for 1961 (well, maybe “Mother-In-Law).

So I just have to go with the first record that popped into my head when I thought of the category and I couldn’t quite manage to dislodge no matter how long and hard I thought about it.

Okay, I didn’t really think about it all that long and hard. Because the second record I thought of was this one….

And I figured if that couldn’t knock the song Lyndon Johnson should have listened to before he sent any more troops into Viet Nam (and the American Experiment straight to Hell right along with them), out of my head, then nothing could.

I’m sure our sunny present day circumstances had nothing to do with it coming to mind…or refusing to leave…

Here comes summer!

Again.

(NEXT UP: My Favorite Bo Diddley Cover)

JUSTICE DONE….

bertberns11

Eventually, some of the things that should happen, do happen. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame announced the induction of its latest performing class back in early December. They waited about a month and half to announce, with little fanfare (I completely missed the news and I actually try to keep up with this stuff), the latest non-performer inductee, in a category that has more recently come to be called the “Ahmet Ertegun Award for Lifetime Achievement.”

I think we need George Carlin to rise from the grave and mock the category naming (along with all the other million reasons we need George Carlin to rise from the grave), but at least this time they got it right.

Bert Berns got into the record biz in 1960, just after he turned thirty. He was dead by 1968, of the heart disease doctors had predicted would kill him before he turned 21. In between he wrote or produced over fifty hits, started a couple of iconic record labels (Bang and Shout) and did as much to foster the best part of the revolution as any other single writer or producer.

Even more impressive than his number of hits, though, was the kind of hits. Even his occasional quasi-novelties, like the career-starter, the Jarmels “A Little Bit of Soap,” were killers.

 

I doubt I’d ever be able to pick a single favorite out of “Twist and Shout,” “Hang On Sloopy,” “Piece of My Heart,” “Cry to Me,” “Brown Eyed Girl,” and oh so many more, but, in going over his discography, I realized that I’d never quite understood just how consistently high the quality of his records actually was…or how many exist in multiple great (usually hit) versions. The Isleys and the Beatles on “Twist and Shout,” Erma Franklin and Janis Joplin in “Piece of My Heart,” The Strangeloves and Bow Wow Wow on “I Want Candy.” One could go on.

If I had to pick the essence, though, I’d pick these, both also produced by Berns in England, where he was the first American producer to record rock and roll. The first marker of truly great songwriters is that the truly great singers want to sing their songs.

I regret that I didn’t do more to push Berns in my occasional forays into nudging the Hall down the path to righteousness. Just one of those oversights I can’t explain or excuse. Fortunately, just this once, they didn’t need my help!