Artti Records 120--Rock-a-Beatin' Boogie

There's no justice in this world.  The top image is my scan of Artti Records 120 (Rock-a-Beatin' Boogie for tap dancing class--what else?).  The bottom image is the slightly out of focus digital image featured in the eBay ad.  Notice how it looks twenty times better than the scan, possibly because the light is hitting the label from an angle, not head-on.  The difference is astonishing, really.  Remind me why scanners were invented?

I swear that a good 15 to 20 percent of my scanned record labels come out looking like a shadowy blob, forcing me to change the color curve, which typically results in too much contrast and a grainy look to otherwise smooth paper.  Instead of documenting history, I'm distorting it.  But this is a tap dancing 78, so I need to calm down, read a book, meditate, drink a beer, pet a cat, recite the Serenity Prayer, take deep breaths, listen to some Jim Florentine prank phone calls, and just generally chill.  I can do it--but only if I don't think about it too hard first.  Darn.  Too late.

Maybe next time.

Rock-a-beatin' Boogie was a big hit for Bill Haley in 1955.  Other artists had recorded it previously, starting with the Esquire Boys (with Danny Cedrone) in 1952.

I have no idea what's up with "Artti."  Maybe it's a cute misspelling of "Arty," which would be a weird word choice, since arty means "showily or pretentiously artistic" (Merriam-Webster).  Or maybe it's Finnish, Artti being a Finnish variant form of the name Arttu.  Found that out on Google.  The truth is, I have no idea.  The parent label for Artti was Velmo, which also gave us Abor and Dookie.  Abor is the name of certain hill tribes in the Assam Valley.  As an acronym, it can mean Accounting Book of Record (not to be confused with Investment Book of Record, or IBOR).  Among other things, "dookie" is slang for excrement.  (I suspected something along that line.)  Not something you want to smoke, obviously.

Urban Dictionary defines velmo as "The end result of two adult males kissing so affectionately that their mustaches become intertwined with one another."  (I get it--"Velcro" shortened and combined with, er... never mind.)  Meanwhile, Velmo USA, LLC is "a provider of comprehensive product sourcing solutions."  Boy, the information superhighway is sure earning its name today.

A lot of dance class records have survived the ravages of classroom record players, it seems--enough, probably, to make possible a blog devoted to these things.  But don't look at me.  I'm too busy Googling "dookie."

Click here to tap dance to: Rock-a-Beatin' Boogie. (Artti 120; 78 rpm)

1. Rock-a-Beatin' Boogie (Children's Novelty, Song and Dance)

4 Bar Entrance, 36 Bar Song--36 Bar Dance.
2 Bar Into.--12 Bars.

2. Rock-a-Beatin' Boogie (Swing and Boogie--4/4 Time)

4 Bar Intro.--72 Bars.
4 Bar Intro.--36 Bars.


Lee

Flying Saucer of Latest Top Tunes

The flying saucer in question must have been either small or tightly packed--it only brought us ten tracks.  But what the heck--this is probably best cheap-label LP jacket ever.  It's so effectively designed, it doesn't matter that it's kind of chintzy in its execution.  There are more professionally done jackets that aren't a tenth as cool.  You know this is true.

So, I Google-searched for info on the "Today's Records" label, pretty much prepared to find nothing,  but... rhythm and blues authority Marv Goldberg to the rescue!  This Goldberg page tells us that Today's Records was owned by Maurice Wolsky, who recorded the R'n'B vocal group The Limelighters (not to be confused with the Limeliters), their recordings ending up on a host of budget labels under different credits, including as the Four Angels on Today's Records.

Not much, but more than I ever knew about Today's Records, save for the fact that Wolsky's wife Anne took over the label in 1957 after her husband's death in November, 1956 (Billboard, Feb. 9, 1957).

What's cool is that I've finally found evidence of someone leasing masters to multiple budget labels.  I think this happened all the time, but this is the first solid proof I've uncovered in that direction.

All very fascinating, you say, but what about this collection?  Well, it has a cool cover.  And the vinyl is that thick, cheap stuff that would likely shatter with a hammer blow (no, I don't plan to test it).  Exactly what vinyl (or vinyl-like) formulation this is, I know not, but hard-vinyl grooves don't hold up very well.  I'm pretty sure this is due to their lack of give, plus the heavy-tracking tonearms of the time.  Instead of the gradual wearing away of grooves, there's chipping happening after a handful of plays.  (That's called getting your $1.49 worth.)  But I used all my restoration tricks to get this sounding significantly less awful, I think.  Mono can come in handy.

The music?  Superb renditions of Standing on the Corner (were the Four Lads moonlighting?) and Que Sera Sera, to my amazement.  If only the rest of the tracks were remotely on par.  I mean, they're fun, but on the lower end of mediocre.  We hear singers who are no Como, Damone, Chordettes, Page, or Presley badly mimicking all five, BUT, in their defense, the moments of off-key singing on these tracks suggest a poor studio set-up.  (We'll not mention Born to Be with You, which is just poor.)

Hop on board:

Click here to hear: Flying Saucer of Latest Top Tunes--Jerry Rudolph and His Radio and TV Orch.

Standing on the Corner
Wayward Wind
I Want You, I Need You, I Love You
Somebody Up There Likes Me
On the Street Where You Live
Que Sera
Born to Be With You
More
Allegheny Moon
My Prayer

Flying Saucer of Latest Top Tunes (Today's Records FS X-1; probably 1956)

Lee

Proof that anything is possible: A professionally done cheap-label LP cover!

Discogs lists the year for Mission: Impossible and Other Action Themes as 1967 for the Canadian issue, and 1968 for the U.S. issue.  Note that the cover contains the mono prefix "DLP," but with "Stereo" at the very top, which saved the label, Design, from having to print "SDLP."  (A triumph of ink-saving.)  Meanwhile, in its Design discography, Both Sides Now assigns this catalog number to Richard Hyman's Genuine Electric Latin Love Machine  (the what?), which is a typo, of course, because Hyman's LP came out on Command, not Design.

At the time, that all seemed interesting and worth sharing.  I have no idea why.

Anyway, today we have the Secret Agents (yeah, sure) performing the M:I theme, plus "other action themes," which include renamed versions of Sabre Dance. Gliding Dance of the Maidens (a.k.a. Stranger in Paradise),  Funeral March of a Marionette (a.k.a. Alfred Hitchcock Presents), and Dance Macabre. Theses have been re-titled Under Cover Agent Theme; The Saboteur; Win, Lose or Sp;, and Majorca Express.  Action themes.  Ohhhh-kay.

After all, what is a cheap label to do?  Use legit action themes for the filler tracks?  Actually, for once, the genuine titles outnumber the cheats--a full five of this album's eight tracks are actual TV or movie themes.  How did that happen?  Was Design's quality control slipping?

The musical results are much better than we can logically expect, in large part because the Secret Agents are first-rate musicians, despite some shaky arranging,  abrupt and awkward fade-outs, and a total playing time of under 21 minutes (!).  Everything sounds under-rehearsed, though there are some superbly performed moments (e.g., the closing of Majorca Express, which makes up for the rest of the track).  And the discotheque version of Star Trek is far out--groovy, even.  This collection has its moments, and then some.  Even the sound quality is good.  Someone got fired; I just feel it.

Actually, the most amazing thing of all would have to be the jacket--a cheap-label cover that looks like some love went into it, and which actually relates to the material!  But they did one thing right--they printed the jacket titles in the wrong order.  Whew.  So it's not the end of life as we know it.



DOWNLOAD: Mission: Impossible, and Other Action Themes--The Secret Agents



Mission: Impossible
Theme from Star Trek
The Spy Who Came in from the Cold
Win, Lose or Spy
Theme from Mannix
Under Cover Agent Theme
The Saboteur
Majorca Express

(Design SDLP-237, 1968)

Lee

Bravo! label 78 rpm from 1962!

This record was overpriced and on eBay.  (Coincidence?)  But I knew I needed to have it--I'm a fake-hits addict.  In other words, nuts.  As a rule, I spend as little as I can manage (short of stealing), but for this I was willing to part with more dough than it's worth--and it wasn't that overpriced by the standards of the venue.  eBay is where many a dealer grabs a Fair-minus-condition Goodwill LP and puts it up for $49 or more.  If you think I'm kidding, go record hunting on eBay.  Have smelling salts on hand.

In fact, I could make a case that, given the almost nonexistent general demand for hyper-obscure items like this, the value here is about forty-nine cents, practically speaking, and you're lucky to get that.  But convincing the dealer?  Right.  So I paid the bread.  Deed done.

Humorously (ha, ha!), this was graded at VG, which it is hardly.  When the tonearm jumps all through the first track (Let's Go), it's maybe G+, but be aware that the dealer in question rates his or her records on (not by) "visual qualities"--managing, in this case, to miss seeing the considerable groove wear I spotted on first sight.  Luckily, in addition to magic eyes, I have styli and software ready to deal with massacred tracks, as long as they aren't Let's Go.  I'm kind of complaining, but not really, because I wouldn't miss having this kooky artifact in my grubby paws.  Or spinning on my turntable, even.

Why is this so special?  Because it's a vinyl 78 from 1962!  I didn't know 1962 78s happened in the U.S., but obviously they did.  What compelled Bravo! (Pickwick) to put out such a thing is the mystery of the week, but they must have figured some of their buyers lacked access to 45 rpm playback, when they could have been pondering why anyone was buying their stuff in any format.  (I should talk, after spending good money for this.  But I'm a collector, so it's okay.)

Anyway, by 1962, Pickwick was pretty much in charge of the fake-hits field, though of course not exclusively (SPC, for one, was still in the biz, appearing under any number of label names), but putting them on 78s?  No way.  But way.  We have the proof before us.  Plus my word.

Tried three styli before concluding that a conical LP needle worked best (you never know).  The tracks, minus the obliterated Let's Go, and the folks who actually got them on the charts:

Go Away Little Girl (Carole King)--original by Steve Lawrence.
Release Me--original by "Little Esther" Phillips. 
Keep Your Hands off My Baby (Carole again)--orig. by Little Eva (Beatles, 1963, for radio.)
You Are My Sunshine--orig. Ray Charles.
Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah--orig.  Bob B. Soxx and the Blue Jeans.  (Rated S for Stupid.)

Save for the backing vocals on Release Me, all very fine cheapies.

Click here to hear: Bravo! label 78 from 1962.


Lee

Manhattan Serenade--David Whitehall and His Orchestra (1958)

This is an LP I've had for many years and love to death.  (Scan-n-Stitch Deluxe worked this time on the cover.  We dispose of failed experiments in the back of the lab.)  Gorgeous easy listening, though my last couple plays, the effect had dimmed from too much familiarity.  Hopefully, this is new to you.  If so, I envy you!

Chief liability: the cruddy sound on Side 2, not to mention the unequal volume between the two sides.  The first one sounds more recently recorded--and very well for 1957--while side 2 is compressed and over-EQ'd (I cut some treble, and it helped, but the bass is still flabby and out of balance with the rest).  I had to normalize the volume on the Savinos, but it's a valid move, because normalizing, of course, simply maxes the volume--it doesn't compress.  That would be adding injury to injury.  (Oh, and please bear with the annoying hum throughout.  RCA Camden, remember.)

The Domenico Savino selections are as good as mood music gets, and seem to have comprised a suite (was Stars Over Manhattan the title?).  If it was a suite, why didn't RCA Camden provide the title?  Because they were cheap?  Okay, I answered my own question.

No liner notes--just the shameful cheap-label bit of listing other titles on the same label.  ("6 Record Deluxe Packages"??  Come again?)

Anyway, I'm sure the Savino tracks qualify as fluff, but masterfully composed fluff, so I dig them.  Savino wrote pop songs during the 1920s, like Burning Sands, and sometimes spelled his name backwards on the record label (and, I presume, sheet music): Onivas.  I'm sure there was a reason.  Anyway, LP collectors have likely encountered his RCA Camden LPs, and he arranged for Paul Whiteman, and arranged for piano all of Ferde Grofe's orchestral pieces for Robbins Music Corp., and you get the picture.  He even arranged Grofe's once-hyper-famous On the Trail for two pianos.  The man had talent.  Whitehall's orchestra is terrific, too.

A ten-stars-out-of-ten light music classic, and if my ears have become too used to the tracks, it's only because they're so good, I've felt compelled to play them over and over through the years.  (Thank the stars for light-tracking tonearms.)  I didn't anticipate dulling the thrill, but these things happen.  Great stuff.  (Update: Dawn still moves me like crazy.)

Click here to hear:  Manhattan Serenade--David Whitehall and His Orch. (1958)

Manhattan Serenade
Love Is the Sweetest Thing
Song of the Flame
Stairway to the Stars
Laura
Song of the Vagabonds
Stars Over Manhattan (Savino)
Album Leaf (Savino)
Intermezzo (Savino)
Pretty Cinderella (Savino)
Central Park Casino (Savino)
Lovely Lady (Savino)
Dawn (Savino)

Manhattan Serenade--David Whitehall and His Orch. (RCA Camden 324; 1958)

I won't mention the fact that this LP contains thirteen tracks.  (Theremin wail.)  Oh, I just did.


Lee