One Hit No More, No. 46: Bobby Bloom, Who Will Always Have Montego Bay

The Hit
In keeping with a new pattern, who the Hell is Bobby Bloom? And didn’t The Beach Boys do “Montego Bay” with Jon Stamos slapping away at the congas?

Of course not, that was two decades after Bloom rose to very brief fame when this tune shot up to No. 8 on the U.S. charts (it made it all the way to No. 3 in the UK). "Montego Bay" was a fun, bubbly number that dances over a loping beat and boasts one of a great, super-sticky hook in the chorus. Bloom has a unique voice - a mix of husky and warm that clicks perfectly with the lazy and carefree spirit of the song - but I can’t sell Bloom’s hit any better than a blog I found called 7 Inches of 70s Pop:

“And ‘Montego Bay’s” mix of pop and calypso along with the pleasurable images of laying on the beach during the day, drinking silver rum and driving your MG to an all night party did more for Jamaican tourism than anything their consulate had dreamed up.”

That post provides a decent glimpse into Bloom’s works and collaborations, even if it sells him a bit short by calling him “a struggling songwriter” (we should all be so lucky…mostly), but its author, Adrianqiano, ends with a deft, telling touch:

“When you hear Bobby break into 'Oh What A Beautiful Morning' at the end of the song and he gets to the line 'Everything’s going my way,' tell me that you don’t get the chills."

The Rest of the Story
While Bobby Bloom didn’t quite struggle, he comes off as someone lurking in the orbit of some of the biggest names of the era. A Brooklyn kid, he got into the industry about a half decade prior, but on the wrong-end of the doo-wop era with a group called The Imaginations that didn’t go much of anywhere. He had a decent ear for songwriting, though, and caught his break when he co-wrote “Mony Mony” for (the inescapable) Tommy James and the Shondells. That one caught the attention of one of the bubblegum pop era’s biggest, fattest wheels, Jeff Barry, the man who thrived from the girl-group boom - e.g., “Da Do Ron Ron,” “Then He Kissed Me,” “Chapel of Love” - including working with the legendary (lunatic) Phil Spector - e.g., “Be My Baby.” With his wife, Ellen Greenwich, collaborating they become one of the dominant songwriting teams of the mid-to-late-1960s…at least until their relationship caught fire and they flamed out (call it a hard lesson in working with your spouse). I could write about Barry forever, obviously - I haven’t even gotten to The Archies yet, never mind The Monkees - but this is Bloom’s story, so let’s get back to that, or at least what’s left of it.

One Hit No More, No. 45: Alive 'n' Kickin', Mississippi by Way of Brooklyn and Tommy James

Don't knock it. You always get a crowd.

The Hit
I went into this one knowing neither the band - Alive ‘n’ Kickin’ - nor their very lonely hit - “Tighter, Tighter.” Featuring soulful vocals, a nice pop melody (more later), and some smart flourishes (e.g., the shimmer-echo guitar riff that bridges between the lead vocals between verses, or the horns that play under the chorus), it’s not a bad song. And it sounds familiar for a reason

Tommy James wrote it for them and as a bit of make-up gesture. He originally offered them “Crystal Blue Persuasion,” but he liked it too much to pass it off. That was a good call too, because it gave Tommy James and the Shondells one of the hits that anchored 1969’s Crimson & Clover (one of five, as it happens; helluva(n) album). “Tighter, Tighter” gave Alive ‘n’ Kickin’ a big one too. It hit No. 7.

Oh, and they also shared a label and a management team. If you know a little about Tommy James’ relationship to his label, you’re that much closer to understanding one reason why Alive ‘n’ Kickin’ walked away from the music business, if only for a while.

The Rest of the Story
The band formed in Brooklyn, NY, all as teenagers, and they pulled together their act and sound in Dave Shearer’s (guitar) basement. Bruce Sudano (keyboards), Woody Wilson (bass), Vito Albano (I think; drums), and Jeff Miller (more keyboards) laid down the music for two lead vocalists, Pepe Cardona and Sandy Toper (to clarify, a woman). What they put together had a 60s-hangover vibe, a mix of (to my ear) roots rock and funk with the keyboard/organ sounds as a kind of foundation. If I had to peg a place where you’ve heard it before, I’d go with B-movies from the era and about three-four years after.

The connection to Tommy James came through Sandy Toder’s sister, who was “tight” with Tommy James’ wife, and that opened doors for them. Sudano and Wilson opened the door a little further by helping Tommy James write “Balls of Fire” (while both still teenagers, btw) and, somewhere in there, he passed them “Tighter, Tighter.” I assume Tommy James then directed them to Roulette Records, and Morris Levy - who was also connected, but in the mob sense - which means everyone involved probably heard Levy line up dirty work at least once (Tommy James tells great stories about this fairly early into a very long interview).

One Hit No More No. 31, The Clique: An Unstable Social Group

Drugs, yes, sex and rock 'n' roll optional.

The Hit
Actually didn’t know “Sugar on Sunday” until this past week. It’s pretty generic late-60s pop-rock (1969, specifically), but it’s a pretty tune, bright instrumentation (think that mincing electric organ that paces the melody), and laced through with good, ear-wormy hooks (“femme jolie, femme jolie). It’s about lover’s parting…and that’s all I’ve got.

The Rest of the Story
To anyone thinking “Sugar on Sunday” sounds a whole lot like something else, you’re on to something. Tommy James, yes, the frontman to The Shondells, not only wrote the tune, he also performed it. That wouldn’t be the only occasion – and this quote covers a lotta ground:

“Tommy James came through and gave us our third single on White Whale called Sparkle and Shine, but I guess it should have been called Fizzle and Die, as the flame went out somewhere around 100 on the Billboard charts.”

Give “Sparkle and Shine” a listen or three and you’ll see that Oscar Houchins – the band’s…second keyboardist - has a point. The few sources I found on The Clique don’t clarify whether they count as actual proteges to Tommy James, but it does make clear that they looked to James and a guy named Gary Zekley for hit-worthy material.

If there’s a key phrase in this entire post, it’s “second keyboardist.” I can’t identify even one member that I’d call a key or central member to the band. Jerry Cope replaced John Kanesaw on drums; Tom Pena replaced Bruce Tinch on bass; Houchins replaced Sid Templeton, who’d already replaced Larry Lawson on keys; Bill Black replaced Cooper Hawthorne on lead guitar, etc.: and all that churn took place before they recorded Tommy James’ hit. Houchins stayed in music – even worked with Wilco once – and one of the members as yet unnamed, Randy Shaw (vocals and horns) might even have had the bigger career (e.g., “at one time the highest-paid entertainer in Seattle”), but the rest took straight jobs. Call this a comment, call it a punchline, but this sums things up nicely: