THE AMAZING WORLD OF JOE MEEK (Track-by-Track)

It’s Hard to Believe It: The Amazing World of Joe Meek (1995)
Various Artists

[NOTE: I don’t know if this is the best introduction to Joe Meek’s music,  just that it was mine. It got away in the Great CD Selloff of 2002 and I eventually replaced it with a 56-track, 2-disc set, which I don’t hear adding anything new or vital to his vision.]

It pays to take care when tip-toeing around cults. I trust them a little more when the object of shared affection has achieved some legitimate Pop success. I trust them a little less when said object is a murderer.

One whiff of Death Chic and my horse manure detector goes straight to eleven.

The day Phil Spector was arrested for murdering Lana Clark (a murder which fulfilled a spiritual contract he had been threatening to carry out on anyone but himself for decades and for which he was ultimately convicted), I got in my car, put my cassette copy of this in the tape deck and took the long way to town and back.

I got home just as “Black Pearl” was cutting to the fade. I sat in my driveway, sang along with Sonny Charles the way I always do, then closed my eyes and listened to Bobby Hatfield close it out with “Ebb Tide.”

Then, eyes still closed, I shook my head and said out loud:

“Well, he wasn’t a murderer then.”

He also wasn’t someone who really needed Death Chic, or even the common air of carefully cultivated eccentricity with which he was already associated, to ratify the genius part of his Genius.

All you had to do was listen to the records.

With Britain’s Joe Meek the equation, musical or human, isn’t so easy.

He, too, was a murderer.

He, too, was some sort of genius. Perhaps just not a musical one.

I hear three great records below and they are very great indeed. I also hear a lot of interesting technology, near misses and talent seeking an identity.

The Death Chic odor that surrounds Meek, then, is an especially strong one. Unlike Spector’s, his murder occurred while he was still young and active. It’s not so easy to disassociate the evil act with which he finally defined himself from the music he made or the public’s affection for it.

He was definitely no talent scout. Having, at some point, turned down the Beatles, Rod Stewart and a young David Bowie (and for no other reason than they stank), he did discover one of England’s finest female vocalists, Glenda Collins, and a good rockin’ band with a hard-driving female drummer (Honey Lantree of the Honeycombs), with whom he even had some commercial success. But his preference, always, was for weird, quasi-musical sound effects and studly young males who couldn’t sing. It may have been that talent put him off somehow.

Anyway, back and forth I go…

Does a minor genius–one tormented by being a closeted gay in an England where homosexuality was still outlawed–deserve the same respect for his work as a major one?

Especially if, unlike Phil Spector, he at least had the decency to off himself?

And if, unlike Spector, he committed his evil deed without first spending decades convincing himself he wasn’t satisfied with making all those great records, that he wouldn’t really amount to anything until he had blood on his hands?

It’s a close call, with no easy answers.

I guess the best thing to do is promise to listen close before we decide…

“Telstar”The Tornados: #1 on both sides of the Atlantic in December, 1962. The first British rock and roll record to hit #1 in America, more than a year before the Beatles hit The Ed Sullivan Show. It deserved its place in history. It’s a furious, mad record, as exciting and unrepeatable as “Rumble” or “Eve of Destruction.”

“Johnny Remember Me”John Leyton: Meek’s first UK #1, from 1961. The production is already forward looking, especially given Meek’s preference for recording in his flat. It wouldn’t be the last time he got a unique sound out of his need to keep everything close and completely under his control. Nor would it be the last time he failed to find a singer who could live up to that sound.

“Tribute To Buddy Holly”Mike Berry & The Outlaws: From 1961. What this has going for it is sincerity. The singer has the voice to put that sincerity across, but doesn’t seem to quite know what to do with it. The producer seems more interested in cramming in as many sounds as he can than with producing an effective record. It did hit the top 40 in the UK.

“Chick A ‘Roo”Ricky Wayne & The Flee-Rakkers: This is a near miss. Somebody knew their Buddy Holly front to back. The only thing they forgot was  to come up with one of those great songs Buddy wrote like it was as easy as breathing.

“Night Of The Vampire”The Moontrekkers: All atmosphere. In keeping with the vibe that was coming from comic books and the cheapest horror flicks. It’s probably effective background music for something….I’m just not sure what.

“Paradise Garden” Peter Jay: Another great production in every respect except the vocal. If this was what Joe really preferred, one can hear how he missed on the Beatles. Paul McCartney would have killed this, if he could have been induced to sing it instead of one of his own little compositions.

“My Friend Bobby” Pamela Blue: A pleasant girl group entry from 1963. The singer does not live up to her name.

 “Swingin’ Low”The Outlaws: The Outlaws were sort of Meek’s house band. This is a nice little number, a little Duane Eddy twang, a little rockabilly flavor in the drums, some weird echo. The Wrecking Crew, they were not. This is one of many records where it’s fair to ask whether Meek lacked access to top session men or they simply didn’t yet exist in Great Britain….or whether he preferred it this way. The Outlaws (who later on featured Ritchie Blackmore of Deep Purple fame), did make a record called “Crazy Drums” which lives up to Meek’s reputation. It, uh, did not make the charts.

“Valley Of The Saroos”The Blue Men: In his liner notes for the EP on which this first appeared in 1960, Meek billed the music within as suitable for space travel. It was/is unclear whether the astronauts having it piped in their ear were supposed to be asleep, moon-walking or making out. Fun to speculate.

“The Bublight” The Blue Men: From the same I Hear a New World project. I don’t think anyone was supposed to make out to this one. It may have been for going a step beyond…with space aliens.

“Til The Following Night” Screaming Lord Sutch & The Savages: Still in 1961. Look the man was dedicated to his vision. Jungle music on the moon. Good story line, though, something about a fellow who goes about doing terrible things in the night but has to crawl back in his coffin during the day. One of Meek’s true fellow visionaries, David Sutch eventually founded the Official Monster Raving Loony Party in Great Britain and lost a record-breaking forty elections. I have no idea of his platform, but it’s hard to imagine the Brits being any worse off for him winning a couple.

“Just Like Eddie”Heinz: Heinz was the bass player for the Tornados. This was his big shot at solo stardom and did chart in the UK. He had a white-haired version of Pink’s cropped-head look down forty years early. Alas, he did not have Pink’s vocal chops. But there’s a moment at the very end where he reaches for Eddie Cochran’s spirit and style and, for about five seconds, grabs it. That and some nice early session guitar from the aforementioned Ritchie Blackmore keep things interesting.

“North Wind”Houston Wells & The Marksmen: This one is almost all the way there. The production and guitar work are arresting, the vocal is good. Its buried too deep in the mix for maximum effect, leading me to wonder if Meek was simply scared of good singers? He rarely signed them and, when he did, he failed to show them off. Was he afraid they would get the credit? Give Phil Spector credit for this much: Even Ronnie Spector (who received credible death threats from her former husband decades before Lana Clark met her fate) said the one person who had complete autonomy on a Phil Spector record was the lead singer. He hired great voices and showcased them. To this point, no one would accuse Joe Meek of that.

“Huskie Team”The Saints: British surf music. Very fine. It would have fit right in on a collection of obscure South Bay bands from the Dick Dale era, though it wouldn’t have stood out.

“Have I The Right”The Honeycombs: 1964 and at last it all comes together. Meek signs a good band with a distinctive singer (Denis D’Ell) and straight off comes up with a stomping masterpiece that goes #1 UK and Top 5 US. Despite a string of fine singles (a few of which scraped the charts on either side of the pond), they never came close to this level of commercial success again. Evidently, some ensuing copyright issues going all the way back to “Telstar” were a major factor in destroying Meek’s finances and helped put him in a murder/suicide state of mind. The court issue was decided a year after he killed his landlady, then himself, in 1967. Apparently, British courts run along the same lines as American ones: The process is the punishment. The Honeycombs’ sides, along with “Telstar” and the best work of Glenda Collins, certainly make him the greatest British producer who never worked with a major band.

“My Baby Doll”Mike Berry & The Outlaws: A straight-up rockabilly tribute–with what sounds like zippy strings. Another near miss that goes by swiftly and painlessly.

“Something I’ve Got To Tell You”Glenda Collins: I said what I have to say about Collins’ vocal here. It was the finest she delivered on a series of strong singles for Meek and the one moment when she was the equal of Brenda Lee or Dusty Springfield. I’ll just add that Meek’s beautiful production–recorded in his flat, like everything else–is just as great, the one moment he really could have been Phil Spector.

“I Take It That We’re Through”The Riot Squad: 1966 and Meek is back to his old tricks, but he’s certainly learned a thing or two. This is a good record and has some great elements, including a wild instrumental break played on God knows what. If there’s a tragedy for the rest of us in Joe Meek’s story, it’s that he was clearly getting better as the decade went on.

“Lost Planet”The Thunderbolts: I couldn’t find out anything about the Thunderbolts, or when this was recorded, but it sounds like it would have fit on a Tornados album from 1962. There are people who can’t get enough of this stuff. I’m not one of them, but a touch of it here and there is good for the soul.

“It’s Hard To Believe It”Glenda Collins: A British “Eve of Destruction,” which means it lacks a certain air of the Apocalypse, lyrically and vocally. Still a fine record and a great closer, bringing Meek’s sonic, emotional and political concerns together in memorable fashion…and when he goes full sonic at the end–dispenses with everything except his own mad take on the world–the Apocalypse arrives anyway.

For those who want to seek out more information on Joe Meek’s life and career, there are a number of interviews and footage from documentaries on YouTube (just search “Joe Meek interview” or “Joe Meek documentary”).  There’s also a fictionalized biopic based on his life (Telstar: The Joe Meek Story). Might make a good Rock and Roll Screening some day.

THE ICE IS STILL SLOWLY MELTING: NANCY SINATRA HAS A TALE TO TELL (Found In the Connection: Rattling Loose End #30)

NANCYSINATRA4

The current issue of The Believer has an interview with Nancy Sinatra which continues a process of de-bunking Priesthood of the Svengali.

Nancy was one of many pre-Janis, pre-Aretha female singers who were perceived as the product of some producer’s singular genius which would have worked just about as well with any other lucky girl said genius happened to pick from the bunch.

Over the last twenty years or so, the young women who (outside of their records) were given no voice in the early and mid-sixties when they re-made the world as surely as Elvis or the Beatles, have told their stories (the stories that everyone from Tom Wolfe to Rolling Stone assiduously ignored in the moment and ever since).

Now joining Arlene Smith, Ronnie Spector, Darlene Love, Cher Bono, Mary Weiss among others, Nancy once again assures us that, in the real world, people are not clay models or sock puppets being maneuvered about by mad geniuses (in her case Lee Hazlewood) however talented those geniuses may have been. Unfortunately the entire interview is not available on-line, so I’ve pulled some choice quotes and highly recommend the issue (and the magazine generally) to those who can find and afford it:

On acceptance in the music industry:

NS: They had a lot of great artists join the label (Reprise) at that point. But I think most of the executives at the label looked at me as Frank’s daughter. They didn’t look at me as a fashion icon or an influence on the womens movement or anything like that. They just tolerated the existence of me. And I know the result of it made me not welcome by my musical peers. I never felt I was part of [a scene], and they never accepted my music or me.

On an enduring myth:

BLVR: At what point did Lee famously instruct you to start singing ‘like a fourteen-year-old girl who screws truck drivers’? (NOTE: Now there’s the crit-illuminati mindset and value system in a nutshell for you.)

NS: I don’t know where that twisted version of what he said came from. I know that that’s been floating around in various forms for a long time. He said much more gently to me, ‘You’ve been married, you’ve been divorced, and people know that. They know that you know what’s going on in life, so you’ve got to behave on the record like you do know.’

On the working relationship between herself, Hazlewood and musical director Billy Strange:

NS: Lee’s lyrics were the guiding light for us, because he wrote these wonderful fantasies. Billy took them and put them to music. And what I did was follow along. The beauty of it was that I added enough to it to make it happen. Lee had done a lot of this stuff with other people and he didn’t get anywhere with it. Lee’s muse in those days was Suzi Jane Hokom. Suzi Jane sang on all those duets. And he sang with Ann-Margret and several other ladies. But it just didn’t have the magic that Nancy and Lee had. So I told him in no uncertain terms over the years that he really owes me a lot, too. He wasn’t the Svengali that he thought he was. So it was a symbiotic relationship that turned out some pretty damned special music. I’m proud of all of it and proud of my contributions to it.

On those fashion statements (though not this one, especially):

NancySinatra3

NS: All those clothes that I wore in the early 60’s were [Mary Quant’s]. I brought them from London to Los Angeles and wore them all around. At that point nobody knew what a miniskirt was, so I’d get people throwing me lines like ‘The tennis court is over there,’ stuff like that….And the fact that I ran into her when I was in London promoting those silly songs (from early in her career)–God’s hand must have been on my shoulder. I was at the right place at the right time. Little did I know that I would run into a song called “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” and that I already had the outfits. I didn’t have to go shopping for them.

On her legacy:

NS: I’m very glad that I saw it and could take advantage of working with Lee. But I don’t know, honestly, if any other woman singing in those days would have tolerated the treatment from Lee that I put up with over the years. We had the classic love/hate relationship. I’m not ashamed to say that. I think he would say the same thing.

Just as a final note. Hazlewood passed away in 2007 from cancer. Like Shadow Morton and Sonny Bono and most of the others who either sought Svengali-hood or had it thrust upon them in that age-gone-by, he was a man who had his faults, many of which he owned up to in time. He was not, like Nancy’s close friend Phil Spector or England’s Joe Meek, a monster. Like all of them, man or monster, he made beautiful records….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T5Xl0Qry-hA

MYSTERY ACHIEVEMENT…(Glenda Collins, Vocalist of the Month for 7/13)

So four whole months into my Vocalist of the Month category, I’ve basically figured out that sometimes it’s gonna be eight thousand words and sometimes it’s gonna be closer to eight. That’s the fun of it.

I had planned for Stevie Nicks to be featured in July but I’m a thought and a half short of finishing a long piece on her, so–in the interests of keeping this blog free of silly deadlines–I decided I would keep it simple and harken back to another, slightly less famous, Brenda Lee acolyte (Stevie took Brenda’s timbre, Glenda took her phrasing).

Collins was known–to the extent she was known at all–for being a sort-of discovery of the legendary British producer Joe Meek (she had recorded before, but he must have thought she had something because he kept trying and he was a man who had kicked David Bowie, the Beatles and Rod Stewart to the curb, among others).

Meek had put a record on top of the American charts two years before the Beatles (“Telstar” by the Tornadoes). He was a contemporary of Phil Spector and fellow mad obsessive, right down to eventually killing an innocent woman to prove he really was crazy, though Meek did it forty years earlier and at least had the decency to off himself immediately afterwards.

Glenda Collins was as good a singer as Meek ever chose to work with, but, truth be told, she was also, for the most part, a good singer in search of an identity.

Just once, though, on a record produced by Meek–and, evidently, recording her vocal in a bathroom–she found the sort of magic that makes rock and roll eternally bottomless.

Like all of her other records–all her pretty good records that is–it was not a hit.

Every time I hear it, I can hear why it wasn’t a hit in this world. And I can also hear why it would have been a smash–the smash I can easily imagine she believed (and had every right to believe) it would be when she heard the playback–in that slightly better world that seems to be resting permanently just out of reach.

Like a lot of one-shot rock and rollers, she’s got a little piece of forever anyway.

As Orson Welles used to say….It only takes one.

Glenda Collins “Something I’ve Got To Tell You” (Studio Recording…No idea if the cheesecake photo at the end is her!)