Before I forget, here’s the final installment of the series on one-hit-wonders whose lone claim to fame peaked at Number 97 on the Hot 100. (The first part is here and the second part is here.)

“Mississippi Mama”/Owen B (3/14/70, two weeks on chart). Here’s an artist more obscure than Wyatt (Earp) McPherson, the first one-hit wonder to peak at Number 97. Even YouTube DJ Music Mike doesn’t know much, except that Owen B was from Mansfield, Ohio. “Mississippi Mama” sounds like Three Dog Night on a caffeine high, and it clocks in at a Creedence-like 1:58.

“Check Yourself”/Italian Asphalt and Paving Company (5/9/70, two weeks on chart). A Jersey doo-wop group called the Duprees scored a Top-Ten hit in 1962 with “You Belong to Me.” They continued to record into the 1970s, and were inducted into the Vocal Group Hall of Fame in 2008. But in 1969, they cut an album under the name of the Italian Asphalt and Paving Company. It yielded “Check Yourself,” which was more soul than doo-wop.

“Suite: Man and Woman”/Tony Cole (11/11/72, four weeks on chart). The word “suite” suggests the song is going to run on for a bit, and it did, lasting 4:45. The assistant PD of KMPC in Los Angeles told Billboard at the time, “Too bad the record companies are releasing singles too long to play, thus forcing stations to edit them or ignore them.” KMPC did just the former, cutting “Man and Woman” to 3:45. What I can piece together about Tony Cole is that he was an ex-schoolteacher who got a shot on American Bandstand in the early 60s and later sang on an Australian TV variety show that counted a pre-stardom Olivia Newton-John among its cast members. Which is not much, but at least he’s not Wyatt (Earp) McPherson.

“After Midnight”/Maggie Bell (5/18/74, three weeks on chart). Maggie Bell, sometimes described as the British Janis Joplin, sang in the Glasgow group Stone the Crows. (If they’re remembered at all nowadays, it’s primarily for the on-stage electrocution death of guitarist Les Harvey in 1972.) After that, Atlantic signed her to a solo deal, and she spent a year preparing the album that became Queen of the Night, released in ‘74 to great acclaim, and featuring “After Midnight.” The albums Suicide Sal and Great Rock Sensation followed, but she’s recorded only sporadically since 1977.

“All Roads (Lead Back to You)”/Donny Most (12/18/76, three weeks on chart). Today’s idea of marketing synergy requires stars to multi-task. It’s why Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers have TV shows in addition to singing careers, and why Beyoncé makes movies. But it’s not a new concept. Record companies often tried to parlay TV success into musical success, and never with greater gusto than in 1976. Theme songs from S.W.A.T. and Welcome Back Kotter were Number-One singles that year; themes from Happy Days and Laverne and Shirley made the charts as well, as did did singles by their stars. Most, who played Ralph Malph on Happy Days, got his shot with “All Roads.”

“My Pearl”/Automatic Man (2/19/77, two weeks on chart). Automatic Man was formed by Michael Shrieve and keyboard player Bayete (Todd Cochrane), who became the group’s principal songwriter. It also featured guitarist Pat Thrall, later to chainsaw his way to fame with Pat Travers. Shrieve was just out of Santana and the Go project, where he played alongside Steve Winwood and Stomu Yamashta. Winwood isn’t credited on Automatic Man’s debut album, although he was rumored to be on it. “My Pearl” is a little bit ELO and a little bit Jimi Hendrix, although the debut album’s cover is likely more familiar to record browsers than the music in it.

“Part Time Love”/Kerry Chater (4/2/77, two weeks on chart). Chater was a member of Gary Puckett and the Union Gap who became a full-time songwriter after the band broke up. One of his demos came to the attention of Steve Barri and Michael Omartian, who were extremely hot in the mid 70s, and they backed Chater with an A-list group of studio players for a solo album. All that couldn’t push Chater’s only hit beyond Number 97, giving him a place in history along Wyatt (Earp) McPherson.

One Other Thing: I mentioned on Facebook this morning that I was diggin’ a Rosanne Cash bootleg. I think you might dig it too, so go here, to the fabulous bigO Audio Archive.

“After Midnight”/Maggie Bell (buy it here)

There’s a thin line between history and oblivion. Cross it, leave a mark, and even if it’s a small one, it will stand for all time. One of those lines is the last slot on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. Lately we’ve been looking into some of the records and performers who just squeaked past it. This is the second part of the list of one-hit wonders whose only chart hit peaked at Number 97.

“Tell Her”/Dean Parrish (7/23/66, two weeks on chart). Parrish made some singles in the mid 60s and worked as a session player, allegedly alongside Jimi Hendrix, Santana, and Bob Marley, before beginning an acting career. Britain’s Northern Soul fans discovered his work in the mid 1970s, although he was supposedly unaware of his British popularity for quite a while, and it would be 2001 before he performed over there. “Tell Her” was a hit in the States as “Tell Him” by the Exciters; Parrish turns it into show-band boogie.

“Dommage, Dommage (Too Bad, Too Bad)”/Paul Vance (10/8/66, two weeks on chart). Vance has appeared in this feature before, as co-writer and performer of “The Chick” with Lee Pockriss. “Dommage, Dommage” was recorded as a demo to be shopped to other performers, but the response from the people at Scepter Records was so strong that the label decided to release it. A version recorded by Jerry Vale rode the chart at the same time, eventually reaching Number 93.

“Fortune Teller”/The Hardtimes (1/7/67, two weeks on chart). In 1964, the Rolling Stones did “Fortune Teller,” a song written by one Naomi Neville, actually a pseudonym used by Allen Toussaint. The Who recorded it too, on the Live at Leeds album. The Hardtimes were from San Diego, and they became one of the house bands at the Whisky a-Go-Go in Los Angeles before making a single album, Blew Mind. They frequently appeared on Dick Clark’s TV show Where the Action Is, where they performed “Fortune Teller.”

“She’s About a Mover”/Otis Clay (9/7/68, three weeks on chart). One of Chicago’s great deep soul singers, Otis Clay cut his version of “She’s About a Mover” at Fame studios in Muscle Shoals shortly before joining up with producer Willie Mitchell at Hi Records in Memphis. The Sir Douglas Quintet did the most famous version of “She’s About a Mover”; Clay’s most famous song, which didn’t chart for him, is probably “Trying to Live My Life Without You,” which was covered by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band.

“Home to You”/Earth Opera (4/26/69, one week on chart). In the late 60s, a Boston-based record producer named Alan Lorber started hyping the city’s “sound” as a marketing concept. “The Bosstown Sound” became the target of derision after its first wave of releases proved to be less-than-great, but the fact remains that Boston produced a fair amount of interesting music in the late 1960s. Earth Opera made some of it, featuring bluegrass whiz Peter Rowan, an alumnus of Bill Monroe’s band, and David Grisman, later famed for his collaborations with Jerry Garcia. The rambling “Home to You” is a countryish rock number that leads off their second album, The Great American Eagle Tragedy—which strikes me as mighty good.

“Big Bruce”/Steve Greenberg (8/9/69, three weeks on chart). This is a parody of Jimmy Dean’s “Big Bad John,” and you might be able to guess precisely how the parody unfolds without ever hearing the record, provided you remember how the name “Bruce” was once so frequently used in popular culture as shorthand for being light in the loafers. (Before Bruce Springsteen’s leap to stardom made the name respectably masculine.) “Big Bruce” may have seemed hilarious 40 years ago, but now it’s just stupid.

In the next installment, whenever we get around to it: one of the stranger TV-star hits of the 70s and Britain’s answer to Janis Joplin.

One Other Thing: The Mrs. and I spent much of last weekend hanging with whiteray and the Texas Gal in the wilds of central Minnesota. Photographic evidence of Blog Summit and Beer Spree II is still in the camera, but whiteray’s narrative of events is here. Many thanks for the hospitality as always, you two.

“Home to You”/Earth Opera (buy their two albums in one package here)

One of my favorite posts in the history of this blog appeared three years ago this week, about the darkness audible on Top 40 radio in the fall of 1969 via the WLS chart from the week of November 10. There are other ways to look at the same week, of course—how dark could it have been if Sesame Street premiered on TV? Here’s how it sounded at WKNR in Detroit, the fabled Keener 13, on the survey dated November 13, 1969.

8. “Down on the Corner”-”Fortunate Son”/Creedence Clearwater Revival (up from 13). Has there ever been a better two-sided hit single? If we had a contest to figure it out, this one would definitely make the semi-finals, at least—with several other two-sided CCR singles.

16. “Get It From the Bottom”/Steelers (down from 7). The Steelers were a Chicago group that started out recording on the local Crash label, owned by DJ Al Benson. Even after Crash crashed in 1967, the Steelers carried on. “Get It From the Bottom” was good enough to get national distribution from Columbia, although it was popular mostly in the Midwest. The Steelers are still performing around Chicago, apparently.

25. “Midnight Cowboy”/Ferrante and Teicher (up from 28). WKNR lists two versions of this movie theme, by John Barry, who wrote it, and Ferrante and Teicher, who had a Top-10 national hit with it. There’s a hallucinatory quality to the F&T version, although most of the atmosphere comes not from the famous twin pianos but from Vincent Bell’s guitar and those ghostly choral voices. The vibe is nicely captured in this YouTube video, which features scenes from the Dustin Hoffman/Jon Voight film.

26. “The Music Box”/Ruth Copeland (up from 29). One of the first releases on Holland/Dozier/Holland’s Invictus label was by Ruth Copeland, a white girl from England whose debut album was recorded at the same time and features many of the same musicians as the debut album by Parliament. It’s weird stuff; the band is great, but Copeland’s performance is frequently over-the-top strange—like the sobbing that takes up the last 45 seconds of “The Music Box,” which is unobjectionable up to that point despite the presence of a children’s chorus.

Keener LP #3: Rock and Roll Music/The Frost. Another Detroit-area legend. The group’s leader was Dick Wagner, who would go on to play with Lou Reed and Alice Cooper, among others. (He started the band after the demise of the Bossmen, another Detroit band that had included Mark Farner, who later founded Grand Funk Railroad.) Rock and Roll Music was the group’s second album, recorded live at the Grande Ballroom in Detroit, which hosted shows by Cream, the Who, Led Zeppelin, Janis Joplin, and even John Coltrane in the 60s along with the full roster of Michigan acts, including the MC5, the Stooges (both of whom were house bands for a while) and the Rationals.

When it comes to Detroit music in the 60s, Motown was just the beginning, and not enough people know that.

“The Music Box”/Ruth Copeland (buy it here)

Over the weekend, we started looking at the 20 records that peaked at Number 98 on the Hot 100 between 1955 and 1986. In this installment covering the last 10, we pick up in 1967.

“Walkin’ Proud”/Pete Klint Quintet (10/21/67). This group, from Mason City, Iowa, packed ‘em in around the Midwest in the 1960s, and are, according to their Iowa Rock and Roll Music Association Hall of Fame page, one of the most successful groups in Iowa recording history. Now when it comes to producing rock stars and classic recordings, Iowa ain’t Liverpool or anything, but listen to “Walkin’ Proud” and then try to tell me it ain’t a really good pop record.

“Dear Delilah”/Grapefruit (3/2/68). Like Jackie Lomax, Grapefruit benefited from an association with the Beatles, but not enough to become more than a footnote. They were managed by an associate of Brian Epstein’s, John Lennon gave the band its name and appeared at press conferences introducing them, and Paul McCartney directed a video for them. All of this explains why Around Grapefruit, a compilation of single releases, sounds the way it does. The group’s second album, conceived as a whole, abandoned the Beatlesque sound, with a predictable result.

“Happy”/Hog Heaven (5/1/71). At the close of the 1960s, an exhausted Tommy James moved out to the country and found Jesus, leaving the rest of the Shondells to do what they could on their own. They formed a band called Hog Heaven, which hung around long enough to make one album.

“Top of the World (Make My Reservation)”/Canyon (7/25/75). Canyon is a band of hazy origin, produced by bubblegum masters Jerry Kasenetz and Jeff Katz, that recorded at the studio K&K built on Long Island. Kasenetz/Katz productions tended to be less sugary than many other bubblegum records, and some of them could rock, like the demented “Quick Joey Small,” a particular favorite of this blog. “Top of the World” certainly does, although its good-time boogie would have sounded a little bit dated even in 1975.

“Foot Stompin’ Music”/Hamilton Bohannon (9/20/75). Originally hired by Stevie Wonder as a drummer in 1965, Bohannon eventually became the arranger and bandleader for Motown’s live shows before the label departed Detroit for Los Angeles in the early 70s. After that, recording under his own name, he scored a string of club hits, including “Foot Stompin’ Music,” that also got some airplay on R&B radio before things slowed for him in the 80s. He hasn’t recorded since 1990.

“Chinese Kung Fu”/Banzaii (10/11/75). In late 1974, Carl Douglas scored an international hit with “Kung Fu Fighting.” “Chinese Kung Fu” is”Kung Fu Fighting” turned inside out—it uses the same chords, and it’s possible to sing the same lyrics to it. And it’s also easy to imagine it as a dance-floor monster.

“Tubular Bells”/Champs’ Boys Orchestra (6/5/76). A disco version of the theme from The Exorcist, which was backed on some 45 releases by a disco version of Chuck Mangione’s “Land of Make Believe.” It’s actually not horrible.

“Say You Love Me”/D.J. Rogers (7/10/76). A lovely piano-driven ballad that deserved a better fate. Certainly Rogers thought so. When “Say You Love Me” and a handful of his other singles failed to hit big, he was quoted in Soul magazine blaming RCA Records for its failure to promote him properly, suggesting that the label was a tax write-off for RCA’s parent company. Several of Rogers’ later releases hit the R&B charts in the late 70s and early 80s before he started to record gospel. Today, he’s a preacher in Los Angeles.

“You to Me Are Everything”/Revelation (8/7/76). “You to Me Are Everything” is a terrific song—so terrific that three versions of it were on the Hot 100 at the same time, by the Real Thing (a version that topped the charts in Britain), Broadway, and Revelation. The competition couldn’t have helped the chart performance of any of ‘em.

“The Part of Me That Needs You Most”/Jay Black (9/20/80). Jay Black was the Jay of Jay and the Americans, and this is pretty much the sum total of his solo career.  “The Part of Me That Needs You Most,” written by Mike Chapman and Nicky Chinn, was also recorded by Exile, B.J. Thomas, and Billy Crash Craddock. The most notable fact about Black’s version is that it spent four weeks on the chart, three of them at Number 98.

When I started exploring the bottom of the charts during One Hit Wonder Week in September, I thought we might unearth some interesting history, but I had no idea how much. So you can bet that another installment, on Number 97 next time, is not far off.

“Dear Delilah”/Grapefruit (buy it here)
“Happy”/Hog Heaven (seven-minute album version of the 3:39 single; buy the album here)

Picking up the trail from this earlier post, here are a few more singles that reached no higher than Number 99 on the Hot 100. As was the case with songs that peaked at 100, there were lots of them in the 1960s, fewer in the 1970s, and none come the 80s.

“She’s My Girl”/Bobby Shafto (7/18/64). Shafto was a handsome British boy who failed to make much of an impact in the States despite the British Invasion. “She’s My Girl” features guitar by Jimmy Page, who would do better eventually.

“Soul Heaven”/The Dixie Drifter (9/11/65). In 1961, Tex Ritter cut a song called “I Dreamed of a Hill-billy Heaven,” which imagined a meeting with several prominent country stars in the hereafter, even though they weren’t actually dead at the time he made the record. “Soul Heaven” is a similar sort of thing, except the artists it honors were all in the Choir Invisible by the fall of 1965: Dinah Washington, Nat King Cole, and Sam Cooke. The Dixie Drifter was Enoch Gregory, a North Carolina-born New York City DJ, who used to say on the air, “I’m the Dixie Drifter, the soul sifter . . . I comes when I wants to and I leaves when I pleases.” (Nice working hours if you can get ‘em.)

“Stay Away From My Baby”/Ted Taylor (12/04/65). Taylor was a gospel singer, a veteran of the Mighty Clouds of Joy and the Santa Monica Soul Seekers. The latter group also had a secular identity as the Cadets, famous for recording “Stranded in the Jungle.”

“Open Up Your Door”/Richard & the Young Lions (9/24/66). This is a record by a Detroit-area band that I’ve blogged about a couple of times previously. Late last year, I heard from Bob Freedman, one of the founding members of the band, in a comment to my first post about the record. He says the widely told story that the Young Lions nearly became the first white act signed to Motown isn’t true, and that “Open Up Your Door” was the victim of poor promotion. I e-mailed Bob and asked if he’d be willing to tell more about the Young Lions, but I never heard back.

“I Don’t Know How to Love Him-Everything’s Alright”/Kimberlys (3/20/71). Most of the online citations for the Kimberlys talk about them as the band that backed Waylon Jennings in the late 60s. I have no idea whether they’re the same Kimberlys who recorded this medley of songs from Jesus Christ Superstar. If I had to guess, I’d say not, but I don’t know.

“(Call Me Your) Anything Man”/Bobby Moore (8/9/75). This was supposedly the first 12-inch single ever produced, remixed by 1970s mix-master Tom Moulton. Allmusic.com observes that what the 12-inch single meant in practical terms was not so much increasing the length of the song as it was being able to master it louder, for better dance-floor rockin’. The version here is from a 45—if I’m reading the Allmusic piece correctly (and I may not be; it’s rather poorly written), the regular 33 and 45 versions didn’t sound as good as the 12-inch.

“Tonight’s the Night”/S.S.O (1/24/76). S.S.O stands for Soul Sensation Orchestra, and it features a vocal group calling itself the Sugar Sisters.  “Tonight’s the Night” was written by Douglas Lucas—and he may be the male voice on it, too— but that’s all I know.

I’m pretty sure we’ll revisit this topic again sometime, as sure as there’s a Number 98 on the Hot 100.

For last month’s One Hit Wonder week, I dug into the archives for some artists whose lone hit peaked at Number 100 in Billboard. Because no good idea ever goes unrepeated around here, here are some one-hit wonders who peaked at Number 99. Some of these lasted a couple of weeks, but most made it for one week only before falling out of the Hot 100. I count 13 in all between 1955 and 1986, so let’s grab the first six of  ‘em today and the last seven later.

“Cherry Berry Wine”/Charlie McCoy (2/27/61). McCoy, who was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame earlier this year, was at the beginning of his illustrious career as a Nashville sideman in 1961, eventually appearing on hundreds of recordings, often on harmonica. On “Cherry Berry Wine,” he’s twangin’ away on guitar and preaching the perils of drink.

“Motorcycle”/Tico & the Triumphs (1/06/62). Three high-school kids in Flushing, New York, met a slightly older guy calling himself Jerry Landis, who had made a couple of records and was looking for a group to produce. “Motorcycle” was  released under the name Tico and the Triumphs after the label that had originally contracted for it went bankrupt and sold it to another. The group developed quite a reputation as a live act around the New York area, although Landis, who had sung lead on “Motorcycle,” never performed with them. You may know Jerry Landis better by his given name: Paul Simon. More on Tico and the Triumphs is here.

“Air Travel”/Ray and Bob (6/23/62). Not to be confused with radio personalities Bob and Ray, Ray and Bob were two brothers from Los Angeles with the last name of Swayne. “Air Travel” features an R&B style vocal over a rock ‘n’ roll instrumental track.

“Don’t Stop the Wedding”/Ann Cole  (11/24/62). That Ann Cole has earned a place in history is not so much due to this record, which was recorded as an answer to Etta James’ “Stop the Wedding,”  as it is to another record: Cole was the first to cut “Got My Mojo Working.” Muddy Waters and his band learned the song from her, but Muddy didn’t know she had recorded it; his own version came out within a week of hers in 1957.  There’s more about Ann Cole here.

“Trouble I’ve Had”/Clarence Ashe (6/6/64). I can’t find much information about Clarence Ashe, although his song was later covered by Clarence Carter in a changed-up version under the title “The Few Troubles I’ve Had.” The original is the sort of deep Southern soul that was just starting to get on pop radio in 1964.

“Unless You Care”/Terry Black (12/12/64). Black was a big deal in Canada, scoring several hit singles up there, most of which were written and produced by the team of P.F. Sloan and Steve Barri. The session that resulted in “Unless You Care” featured Glen Campbell on guitar, Leon Russell on organ, and Hal Blaine on drums. Black would go on to chart with his wife, Laurel Ward, so I could probably exclude him from the list on that basis, but I could exclude Paul Simon and Charlie McCoy that way too, so I’m leaving Terry in.

Next time: another prolific session man makes an appearance, and we hit the dance floor, repeatedly.

“Don’t Stop the Wedding”/Ann Cole (out of print)
“Trouble I’ve Had”/Clarence Ashe (lo-fi mp3; buy it here along with other soul obscurities)

It’s One Hit Wonder Day today—a day for celebrating performers who hit the charts but one time and never again. And at this blog we’re celebrating performers who just made it. Earlier this week, we wrote about 13 records that records spent a single week on the Hot 100 in the anchor position and then fell out again, barely leaving a footprint on the sands of history. But there’s another, rarer achievement: peaking at Number 100 and holding the position for more than one week. Between 1955 and 1986, only six records managed the feat.

“Listen Here”/Brian Auger & the Trinity (2 weeks, from 10/10/70). That the prodigiously talented and creative Auger missed the American charts in the 60s is one of the bigger failures of mass taste from those days—his version of “This Wheel’s on Fire,” recorded with Julie Driscoll, got a little airplay in 1968 without denting Billboard. By the 1970s, he’d moved into funk and fusion almost exclusively. If you’re a fan of the B3 or the Fender Rhodes, his stuff is not to be missed. “Listen Here” was cut down to 3:34 from a 9:22 original, and I’m guessing it didn’t lose much—the long version is mostly improvisations on the same big riff.

“Don’t Ever Take Away My Freedom”/Peter Yarrow (2 weeks, from 4/8/72). Recorded after Peter, Paul and Mary had split, this song was strong enough (or Yarrow, or his label, had enough influence) to get Yarrow the opportunity to sing it on American Bandstand in May 1972.

“Hello Stranger”/Fire and Rain (3 weeks, from 6/30/73). This is a version of the song that had been a hit for Barbara Lewis in 1963 and would be a hit again for Yvonne Elliman in 1977. Fire and Rain was a husband-and-wife duo, Manny Freiser and Patti McCarron; Manny performed in the 80s under the name Ian Messenger. More here.

“Dance Little Lady Dance”/Danny White (2 weeks, from 2/26/77). This is apparently a cover of a song that was a big hit in Britain in 1976 for Tina Charles. White, from New Orleans, was a former member of Huey Piano Smith and the Clowns. When you Google this record, it turns up on several aerobic dance compilations.

“For Elise”/The Philharmonics (2 weeks, from 3/12/77). From an album called The Masters in Philadelphia, this is a disco version of Beethoven’s Fur Elise. It’s not exactly a surprise that somebody would try such a thing, given the success of Walter Murphy’s “A Fifth of Beethoven” only a few months before. The album also features Brahms’ Lullaby, which is given a mid-tempo R&B swing, and the 1812 Overture with some reggae touches that must be heard to be believed. While the album seems to have no connection with Gamble and Huff’s Philadelphia hit factory, this stuff sounds like it could have been from there, and I’ll wager some of the same musicians were involved.

“Discomania”/The Lovers (2 weeks, from 5/14/77). If you got a horse, you ride it: the same team who created and produced the Ritchie Family and scored with “The Best Disco in Town” late in 1976 tried it again with “Discomania,” which is another medley of disco songs. Apart from that, there’s little comparison. Although the medley numbers are well chosen, as they were on “The Best Disco in Town,” “Discomania” is saddled with an annoying main theme in which the singers don’t sing so much as yelp, and you probably won’t be able to endure the whole six minutes at the link above.

(Parenthetical observation: From 1978 until 1986, the end of the period we’re studying, no records peaked at Number 100, for a single week or otherwise. Perhaps this points to a change in chart methodology. Similarly, that no record peaked at Number 100 for more than one week before 1970 might also point to a change in methodology at that time. Someone who’s even more geeky for record charts than I—and until I started writing this blog, I didn’t know such people existed, but they do—might be able to say for sure.)

Here endeth our observance of One Hit Wonder Week. We’ll revisit the topic again on some future day, however, because that’s what we do around here.

Recommended Reading: A blog that’s new to me, 30 Days Out, has been writing about the Warner Brothers Loss Leaders, the series of two-buck-apiece samplers that are still taking up a lot of space on my shelves. Today’s post features Supergroup, the one I played more than any other. Over at The Vinyl District, Jon previews a new book about Casablanca Records that looks like a must-read.

“For Elise”/The Philharmonics
“1812 Overture/The Philharmonics (out of print)

(Edited to add WNEW.com links.)

It’s One Hit Wonder Week, when we celebrate the mysterious alchemy by which performer meets song meets historical moment and a hit record results, but never happens again. There’s a particularly interesting subset of the one-hit wonders: those who spent a single week at Number 100 in Billboard. Between 1955 and 1986, I find 13 of them.

“Itchy Twitchy Feeling”/The Swallows (9/22/58). A doo-wop group from Baltimore that started in the late 40s, the Swallows supposedly released a version of “I Only Have Eyes for You” several months before the Flamingos did. Joel Whitburn says that “Itchy Twitchy Feeling” is a cover of a hit version by Bobby Hendricks, who was a former member of the Swallows, but the Swallows’ bios I can find online don’t say that. So I dunno.

“The Chick”/Lee and Paul (3/30/59). Lee Pockriss and Paul Vance, that is, writers of “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini,” the girl-group parody “Leader of the Laundromat,” the Cuff Links’ “Tracy,” and Clint Holmes’ 1973 glurge-fest “Playground in My Mind.” Listen to “The Chick” if you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

“Green Grass of Texas”/The Texans (3/27/61). The Texans are actually rockabilly legends Johnny Burnette and Dorsey Burnette, and the lengthy fade-in you hear here is the way the record is supposed to sound. Radio stations couldn’t have been too pleased.

“Can’t Help Lovin’ That Girl of Mine”/The Excels (6/10/61). In which this New York R& B group updates Rodgers and Hammerstein.

“Walking Back to Happiness”/Helen Shapiro (12/4/61). Shapiro was voted Britain’s top female singer in 1961 and scored a handful of major hits in the UK, but got only this sniff of the charts in the States. As an experiment, click this YouTube link but don’t look at the screen while you listen, picture Helen, then prepare to be surprised. More at Popular.

“Quarter to Four Stomp”/Stompers (3/3/62). Co-written by a G. Paxton, which could be Gary S. Paxton, who wrote, produced, and/or performed several hit songs in the early 60s, including the Hollywood Argyles’ “Alley Oop” and Bobby “Boris” Pickett’s “Monster Mash.” Or not.

“Goodbye Dad”/Castle Sisters (7/21/62). In which the bride bids her father goodbye before embarking on the honeymoon.

“Sweet Georgia Brown”/Carroll Brothers (8/18/62). Released on Philadelphia’s Cameo-Parkway label, but that’s all I know.

“Night Time”/Pete Antell (12/8/62). Antell and a partner had some studio time left after producing a session for another singer, so Antell cut “Night Time” as a demo.  He used the session musicians—who were not trained singers—to provide backup vocals. The demo found its way to Cameo-Parkway, which put it out just as it was. When Antell found out he said, “Put what out? This is just a demo!” More here.

“Please Don’t Kiss Me Again”/Charmettes (11/23/63). Written and produced by Kenny Young, who co-wrote “Under the Boardwalk” and songs recorded by Status Quo, the Searchers, Herman’s Hermits, and the Seekers. More here.

“Greetings (This Is Uncle Sam)”/The Monitors (4/16/66). In which a group of doo-woppers are invited to the festivities in Vietnam. The Monitors were on Motown; lead singer Richard Street would join the Temptations in 1971 and sing lead on “Papa Was a Rolling Stone” and “Masterpiece,” among others.

“Day Tripper”/The Vontastics (9/3/66). A Chicago group featuring somebody named Bobby Newsome, who wins a cojones award for taking sole writing credit. A YouTube commenter helpfully notes that the song was “covered” by the Beatles.

“Camel Back”/A.B. Skhy (12/6/69). Rockin’ the clavinet with a group featuring Howard Wales, sometime sideman with the Grateful Dead. More at Funky16Corners.

“Remember the Rain”/21st Century (5/31/75). Five young men from Chicago who grew up in the same housing project. Two of the backing musicians on their debut album are more famous than they are: Bongo Eddie Brown and Jack Ashford were both members of the Funk Brothers at Motown—although 21st Century wouldn’t join Motown until after “Remember the Rain.”

And there they are. Another half-dozen one-hit wonders in this period peaked at Number 100 but managed to stick for around more than a single week. We’ll get to those later.

Also: I blogged about some rockin’ married couples at WNEW.com yesterday and about some September 23 birthdays today. Also today, the live webcast of Rosanne Cash’s new album, The List, goes off at 1:00 U.S. Central right here.

A backstage pass is one of the most sought-after totems in rock—but it’s also one of the more overrated. You expect tables laden with food, liquor flowing freely, and dissipated rock stars cavorting with scantily clad groupies. Maybe that happens with acts like the Stones or Van Halen, but in my experience, backstage is mostly people milling around waiting for something to happen. It’s almost as dull waiting backstage for a concert to start as it is to wait out in the audience.

The most entertaining occurrence I ever saw backstage came at an REO Speedwagon show in 1992 or thereabouts, where I watched Kevin Cronin go off on some roadie over the brand of bottled water he’d been given. He said something like, “If you don’t get this shit right man, I’m not going on.” At the same show, REO’s road manager offered to trade me an REO hat for the one I was wearing, from Harry Caray’s restaurant in Chicago. Since I was going back to Chicago the next week anyhow, I took the deal. (I’ve still got the REO hat.)

My favorite backstage experience came with Jefferson Starship, also in the early 90s. Officially, the band was called Jefferson Starship: the Next Generation, and it featured original Jefferson Airplane alumni Paul Kantner, Jack Casady, and Papa John Creach. I spent a thoroughly pleasant half-hour just hanging with Kantner, Casady, and drummer Prairie Prince, who’d been in the Tubes. All the while I’m thinking how Kantner and Casady were practically present at the creation, San Francisco, 1967, the whole bit—but how remarkably normal they seemed in spite of it. I was there to introduce the band, as local DJs have done since the dawn of time. Whenever I’d done it before, I’d go out onstage, make my speech, come off, and the band would go on within a minute or two (or five, or 10). When I got ready to go out and introduce the Starship, however, Casady grabbed me by the sleeve and said, “No, wait . . . come out with us.” And so I did, taking the stage with the Starship just like I was one of them.

Over at Barely Awake in Frog Pajamas today, Tom discusses his experience interviewing Louie Perez of Los Lobos a few years back. When he mentioned how Perez looked “worn,” it reminded me of the time my radio station co-promoted a show featuring John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band. I got to interview Cafferty backstage—”backstage” being the locker room of the basketball arena at Western Illinois University. The road manager took The Mrs. and me into the locker room, where Cafferty was dozing on one of those bolted-to-the-floor benches. He sat up, rubbed his face, and shook our hands, but before I could ask him a question, he asked me one: “Where am I?” He was neither drunk nor stoned, like many rock stars who have asked that question; it was clear that he’d gotten on the bus the night before and headed for the next town without worrying about where it was.

At the time of the show (January 1986), things were as good as they ever got for Cafferty and his band. They were about a year removed from the surprise success of “On the Dark Side” and other songs from the movie Eddie and the Cruisers, and were touring in support of Tough All Over, their latest album. The songs on the album are about working-class people looking for love and adventure on the streets of the Reagan-era city, lifted wholly from Bruce Springsteen in style and subject matter, at a moment when that was the best of all possible career moves. How good a move? Four songs from the album ended up making the singles charts; the most successful, “C-I-T-Y,” was on the radio this week in 1985.

“C-I-T-Y”/John Cafferty & the Beaver Brown Band (buy Tough All Over here)

I was surprised to note today just how many posts I’ve done over the years about instrumental hits. In various contexts, we’ve discussed “Alley Cat,” “No Matter What Shape (Your Stomach’s In),” “Last Date,” “Music to Watch Girls By,” “Summer Samba,” “A Walk in the Black Forest,” “Tracy’s Theme,” “Calcutta,” and others. All of those and many of the others we’ve discussed are from the 1960s—one potential reason for that is here.

In the 1970s, when I was buying 45s, I bought a lot of instrumentals: “Scorpio” and “Taurus” by Dennis Coffey, “Joy” by Apollo 100, “Frankenstein” by Edgar Winter, “Rock and Roll Part 2″ by Gary Glitter, “T.S.O.P” by MFSB, and maybe some others I’ve forgotten. I suppose I ought to count my purchase of Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells and various Emerson Lake and Palmer records in that group, too. I admired plenty of instrumentals without buying them, everything from “Hocus Pocus” by Focus to AWB’s “Pick Up the Pieces” to Deodato’s “Also Sprach Zarathustra” to “A Fifth of Beethoven” and “The Hustle,” and Billy Preston’s “Outa-Space” and “Space Race.” When I got to college, I learned of still other instrumentals I had missed along the way, like “Jessica” by the Allman Brothers Band and ELO’s “Fire on High.” (It’s probably more correct to say I learned the names of these songs, having heard them before without knowing what they were called.) After that, trolling through record stores, radio-station music libraries, and eventually the Internet, I’d occasionally discover a particularly good instrumental I’d never heard before: Jeff Beck’s “Freeway Jam” or “Albatross” by Fleetwood Mac. And it wasn’t until adulthood that I became a true fan of the mighty Booker T and the MGs.

So the 60s and 70s were a fertile era for instrumentals, but apart from Kenny G’s emergence late in the decade, instrumental hit singles were pretty rare in the 80s. Jan Hammer’s “Miami Vice Theme” and Harold Faltermeyer’s “Axel F” from Beverly Hills Cop were huge, but theme songs occupy a different category from the instrumentals of earlier years. (Don’t they?) Yet during the same period, instrumental music itself was booming thanks to people like George Winston and the dozens of new age/contemporary instrumental artists who trailed in his wake. And although this fascinating list of rock instrumentals contains several entries from the 90s and the 00s, few can be considered hits.

But it’s the instrumentals of the 1960s that interest me most for blogging purposes, so here I go again. Back in 1967, there was a record called “I Was Kaiser Bill’s Batman” by Whistling Jack Smith. Sources vary on just who Whistling Jack Smith was. The ubiquitous-in-Britain Mike Sammes Singers were involved, although Wikipedia claims that the actual whistling was done by a British session singer named John O’Neill. After “Kaiser Bill” became a hit, Coby Wells of the British group Unit Four Plus Two went on the road as Whistling Jack. The record was released in the States while the Batman TV show was a rage, and that may have had something to do with its popularity (#20 in Billboard), although the title has nothing to do with the Caped Crusader. A batman is a servant assigned to a military officer; ergo, Kaiser Bill’s batman was an aide to Kaiser Wilhelm, ruler of Germany during World War I.

There’s more on “I Was Kaiser Bill’s Batman” here. I hope it’s all true because it’s mighty interesting. And if I have missed mentioning any instrumental favorites of yours, include them in the comments. It might help us get Whistling Jack’s tune out of our heads.

At WNEW.com: the concerts in Central Park.

“I Was Kaiser Bill’s Batman”/Whistling Jack Smith (buy it, with some other rare and obtuse instrumentals, here)