Silent Too Long

Fear not all 3 readers of my blog…I will be posting again soon. I’m thinking maybe something about the lovely Samantha Jones.

Talk to you later, you adorable bunch of hooligans

Kiki Dee......With a Kiss

In the United States there is probably no artist associated with bad karaoke duets more than Kiki Dee. She is known here in the states for two 1970s songs: her overplayed cliché duet with Elton John, “Don’t go Breaking My Heart” and her earlier hit “I’ve Got the Music In Me”. But there’s a lesser known Kiki Dee that I love. The Kiki Dee of the 1960s.

I was a kid growing up with my aunt when I first heard Kiki. I was going through one of the dozens of boxes of old 45s that she and her partner collected and I stumbled upon some UK 45s by Kiki on the Fontana label. There was always something magical about the singles from England. Their 45s had this built in adapter that you could punch out if you wanted to and they always sounded better than the ones made over here. There were quite a few of these old discs by Kiki including an EP which had a picture of her on it- a cute girl with auburn hair, pretty eyes and a mischievous expression. Right then I knew I was going to love these songs.

The first song I put on the turntable was actually a b-side: “That’s Right, Walk on By”. I chose this because it was one of my favorite Timi Yuro songs. This could have proved deadly for Kiki because I loved that song and I would not have touched the other records if it was bad. I wound up liking Kiki’s version better than Timi’s. Kiki sung it more like a rock song. She belted it out, but really delivered the words at the same time. I flipped it over and listened to the a-side, a song called “Miracles”. It blew me away. A fast intense early 60s UK beat record, Kiki sang it with such force and emotion that it practically knocked me over. I had found my new singer crush in this pretty girl with the auburn hair.

I worked my way through the other singles. There were cool pop-beat songs like “Why Don’t I Run Away From You” and “Baby I don’t Care”. Cute tunes like “Lucky High Heels” and “Early Night”. A sweet version of Goffin-King’s “I was Only Kidding”. A beautifully sung pop ballad, “With a Kiss” and some amazing soulful performances like “Small Town” and especially “Running Out of Fools”. It seemed that Kiki could sing any type of song like she really felt it. The song I kept going back to was “Miracles” which I played over and over again and progressively louder. This prompted Aunt Laura to walk into the room and say “I see you’ve discovered Kiki Dee.”

Laura and May brought out two albums by Kiki, “I’m Kiki Dee” and her 1970 Motown album “Great Expectations” (Kiki was the first white UK artist to be signed by Motown). I loved both of the LPs but there was one track that stood out for me: “Excuse Me”. It was different from all of the others. Kiki sings this song of lost love with such quiet, intimate and intense passion you can almost picture her trembling with tension and holding back tears at the microphone. This song would become the theme-song to every break up I would go through and there would be plenty of them. I’m not the easiest girl to get along with and my world is not an easy one to live in. Enough about me and let’s get back to Kiki Dee.

Kiki in the film Dateline Diamonds (1965)

I couldn’t get enough of this stack of singles and the two LPs. But I wondered about two things. First, why hadn’t I heard these songs and second, where is she now? Of all of the UK sixties girls she came closest to Dusty. She was much better than Cilla, Lulu and definitely Sandie. {Helen Shapiro’s not included here because she was in another class altogether.) Kiki didn’t have as good a voice as Dusty, but she knew how to deliver the goods. (Kiki and Dusty sang backing vocals on each other’s records). She believed what she sung and could handle a diverse assortment of music. According to May, Kiki wasn’t really big in the sixties, even though she should have been. May listened and became a fan because, like her, Kiki was a girl from Bradford.

Eventually I asked, “So what happened?” May put on a record that I immediately recognized but not from hearing around the house. I knew it from AM radio, doctor’s waiting rooms and mall loudspeakers: “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.” Kiki how could you? Thankfully, I learned this several months after first hearing her and I was too deep in love with that voice to let it come between us.

Even a kid like me recognized selling out, but I would come to understand it. Here was this girl with this amazing voice and she barely got recognition in her own country and none in the United States. She should have been almost as well known as Dusty Springfield. So make money and have a good life. I understand.

Kiki still records today and her voice is still great. She records with guitarist Carmelo Luggeri, and while not all of it’s my cup of tea, it’s still great to hear that voice. (They do a sweet cover of Jane Siberry’s “Calling All Angels”.) And no, her recent stuff is no sellout. You can tell it’s from the heart again.

As a final note, the amazing UK label RPM just put out a collection of Kiki’s Fontana material. I was very happy that they did not try to improve the recordings. They sound just like the old 45s without the scratches and pops. It’s nice when someone appreciates the old stuff.

Actually, the real final note: Thanks for singing to me, Kiki, and all is forgiven regarding that song.

Beneath the Magic of Your Sighs

From around my ninth birthday on I was raised by my Aunt Laura and her British partner, May (that's right..Fatith has two mommies).   We lived in a warm and loving home that was always filled with music, mainly 50s and 60s music by girl singers and girl groups from both sides of the pond.   Through their lives they had accumulated an enormous collection of vinyl by some amazing performers.   After a dreadful start in life, these records would always represent the beginning of a new life with people that truly cared about me.  As my life rolled by they would grow to mean even more.  These beautiful simple songs with their universal messages rescued me from the nightmarish pop music of the eighties and to this day they act as my personal “force field” against…well…just about everything.  I was the weird girl at school and I didn’t care if the kids made fun of me when I’d say my favorite singer was Dusty Springfield or my favorite group was The Supremes.  This music was the best.

These singers and their songs were the first love of my life and unlike many girls I would fall in love with, these songs would always remain true to me.   And that brings me to the subject of this little essay.

My song-writing heroes to this day are Gerry Goffin and Carole King and one of my favorites was “Will You Love Me Tomorrow?”   When I first heard The Shirelles record of this song it was magic.  Everything about it fascinated me- The sweet vocal by Shirley Owens, that touch of echo, that beautiful string arrangement and those glorious harmonies.  To the pre-teen me it was perfection even though I barely understood what the true meaning of the song was.

The 1960 record was the first song by an all girl group to reach number 1 on the charts and the first number 1 for the Goffin-King song writing team.  And that was despite the fact that it was banned by some radio stations for its suggestive nature although it would be considered quite tame based on today’s standards.  Original releases of the single were labeled simply “Tomorrow”.   It’s a pure and perfect pop song and its lyrics about innocence, trust and love have made it the enduring classic that it is.

One of my favorite recordings of this song was a 1969 version by the French singer Francoise Hardy.  It was from one of the few albums she sung in English, and it’s quite a beautiful version.  You can practically see Francoise’s physical beauty in her gentle pouty voice and the arrangement itself is bouncy, poppy and ethereal.  However, there’s one curiosity about it.  She ends the second verse by singing “Tonight beneath the magic of your sighs” instead of “Can I believe the magic of your sighs”.  Since I first heard this I always chalked it up to Francoise singing the English words phonetically and that it was a simple mistake, not a conscious change. 

Not too long ago I was listening to Helen Shapiro’s 1962 recording from here debut album “Tops With Me”.   (For the untutored among you, Helen was one of the greatest UK female singers of the 1960s but virtually unknown in the USA.  More about her in a future blog.)  You can probably see where I’m going with this.  Sixteen year old Helen makes this same mistake.    I did an audio double take and played that part of the song over and over again to be sure that it was the case.  There was no mistaking it.  Was it just a coincidence or was something else going on?  It could be something as simple as Francoise learning the song from Helen’s recording, but could it have been the original published lyric before the first recording by the Shirelles?  My private detective instincts were sparked and my investigation began.

I ran through dozens of recordings in my head but had to listen again to be sure.  Uninspiring versions like Dionne Warwick’s.  Derived arrangements like Jackie DeShannon’s .  Overlong and slow versions by Clodagh Rogers and Amy Winehouse.  The long, confused but yet, endearing 1963 live version by the teen British pop singer, Billie Davis, who actually skips the second verse and sings the third three times!  Dusty Springfield’s amazing version as well as her equally brilliant French version (it conveys the meaning of the song but is not a literal translation).  Recordings by men including a bored sounding Bryan Ferry and the upbeat BBC recording by The Zombies (maybe it’s just me, but the song loses its meaning when sung by a guy).   Lesley Gore’s sloppy arrangement .   And of course composer Carole King’s own fairly dreary version from her Tapestry album (sorry Carole).  All sing “Can I believe…”  And then I hit one:  The 1966 super cool Stax Records recording by Carla Thomas.

Carla Thomas….Helen Shapiro…Francoise Hardy….the same mistake….what does it mean?   Probably nothing.  Is it possible that “tonight beneath the magic of your sighs” was the original lyric?  Could The Shirelles have sung it on those mysterious records simply labeled “Tomorrow”?  I honestly don’t think so.  In some ways the line is more suggestive.  Think about it…”beneath the magic of your sighs”.   I’ve been beneath them- and hell, I’ve been the one sighing above, too!   It’s a line that sort of implies that the fireworks are already well underway, but when you get down to it, it really makes no sense in the context of the song.    The line that we all know and love fits perfectly  Basically, are your magical sighs truthful and if I let you have sex with me will you love/respect me in the morning.  Whether it’s your first time or the first experience with a new lover, it’s that moment when you take the next step and nothing conveys  “true love or just another conquest” better than “Can I believe the magic of your sighs”.  Nothing else fits.  Gerry and Carole always got it right.

So it was all a pointless little exercise for me.  But that’s what I expect from myself.  I obsess over things, but I have fun.  Obsessions and an amazing memory have made me a good detective.  Still, in its own little way, I’ve always had a fondness for the lyric that Francoise sings.  When I was a teenage girl and heard that, I used to imagine myself magically sighing with the lovely Francoise beneath me.    Come to think of it I still do.