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)

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)

(Edited to add WNEW.com link.)

When I was a kid, I didn’t miss a lot of school days because of illness, but I remember the slightly disorienting feeling of coming back after being gone. It was clear that the world had continued operating normally without me—and I was always a little surprised. Now that I’m older and wiser, I understand that the Internet has been just fine without me this past week—but I’m still a little bit surprised. Here’s a rare Saturday post to get the Earth back on its axis, continuing our series on the bottom of the Hot 100. Here are 10 records that represent the only Hot 100 appearance for their respective performers, all of which peaked at Number 98.

“The Reason”/5 Chanels (12/22/58). The Chanels were a doo-wop group from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. After “The Reason” was released, the group was forced to change its billing because their name was too close to the Channels, a different group on a rival label.

“One More Sunrise (Morgen)”/Leslie Uggams (9/14/59). A ubiquitous TV presence in the 70s and 80s (most notably as Kizzy in the miniseries Roots), Uggams was only 16 when she cut an English version of “Morgen,” which had been a hit in its original German earlier in the year by Ivo Robic.

“A Lover’s Question”/Ernestine Anderson (2/27/61). Anderson was one of the more highly touted singers in jazz during the late 50s, but saw her career stall as the popularity of jazz began to fade in the early 60s. From the 70s to the 90s, she recorded prolifically, however. This is her version of Clyde McPhatter’s original.

“The Image Part 1″/Hank Levine (10/9/61). In 1957, radio programmer Chuck Blore introduced a format he called “color radio” at KFWB in Los Angeles, and later took it to stations in San Francisco and Minneapolis. It featured a distinctive set of jingles, which became the inspiration for “The Image.”

“Across the Street”/Lenny O’Henry (5/30/64). Lenny O’Henry was born Danny Cannon, and was once in a group called the Vibra-Harps with Donnie Elbert, whose covers of “Where Did Our Love Go” and “I Can’t Help Myself” charted in the States in 1971 and 1972. And that seems to be all there is to know about Lenny O’Henry. As for “Across the Street,” it’s apparently much beloved by beach music aficionados.

“Jamaica Ska”/Ska Kings (7/11/64). Byron Lee and his band backed several reggae stars in Jamaica’s pavilion at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. Hoping to capitalize on any interest sparked by the fair, Atlantic signed Lee to a record deal. “Jamaica Ska” got a bit of airplay, but two full albums failed to make much of a dent in the States. Never mind, though: Lee would record almost continuously for nearly 40 years before his death a year ago this month.

“You’re Next”/Jimmy Witherspoon (3/6/65). Witherspoon took the long way from Gurdon, Arkansas, to stardom, singing on Armed Forces Radio with a big band in India during World War II. His most famous record is probably the blues standard “Ain’t Nobody’s Business,” cut in 1949, but “You’re Next” was his lone pop-chart entry.

“I Spy (for the FBI)”/Jamo Thomas (3/26/66). From the Bahamas via Chicago, Jamo Thomas intended to capitalize on the spy craze in the mid 60s with “I Spy (for the FBI).” It’s some of the best fake Motown music you’re ever going to hear.

“Any Way That You Want Me”/Liverpool Five (12/24/66). They were English, but none was from Liverpool, and their first major taste of stardom came in Japan. They were frequently featured on TV shows such as American Bandstand and Shindig!, and frequently shared the bill with fellow Englishmen such as the Rolling Stones and the Kinks. Their sound was more garage-band than British-Invasion, although “Any Way That You Want Me,” originally cut by the Troggs, fits the mid-60s British pop-rock template. It was their only official sniff of the American charts. (It’s the third song in this YouTube clip.)

“When the Good Sun Shines”/Elmo & Almo (6/10/67). A studio creation by producers Charlie Koppelman and Don Rubin, which was intended to pave the way for an animated cartoon series and a Peanuts-style comic strip. According to a June 3, 1967, article in Billboard, the series would feature cartoon characters against live backgrounds and musical performances. More intriguing, “the artist who [will do] the comic strip was living in singer/composer Tim Hardin’s basement. He, too [like the singers who provided voices for Elmo and Almo] will remain anonymous.” The song was written by Gary Bonner and Alan Gordon, who were mentioned here just a week ago—and it may be Bonner and Gordon who are singing on the record. (Neither the TV series nor the comic strip ever got made, as best I can tell.)

In the next installment: 10 more one-hit wonders who peaked at Number 98, including one of the top Iowa bands of the 1960s and a disco version of “Tubular Bells.” Admit it—you can’t imagine how life goes on without this sort of thing, can you?

At WNEW.com: Gordon Lightfoot’s greatest hit. (It’s a post I’m especially proud of, so go read it. Then comment on it, because nobody ever comments on anything over there.)

“When the Good Sun Shines”/Elmo and Almo (out of print)

(This is the 900th published post in the history of this blog. If you have read them all, you deserve some kind of award. Or to put it another way: Why?)

We have noted here before that for the first eight or nine months of 1979, disco ruled the Top 40 airwaves, but some of the most popular rock albums of the last 30 years came out during the very same period. The album charts from 30 years ago this week include such titles as Breakfast in America by Supertramp, Cheap Trick at Budokan, Molly Hatchet’s debut album, and Minute by Minute by the Doobie Brothers. Also on the album chart that week: Van Halen II, Bad Company’s Desolation Angels, Monolith by Kansas, Evolution by Journey,  and Ted Nugent’s State of Shock—not classics, but significant in their time, and not dance records, either. If your chart knowledge is particularly encyclopedic, you might remember Just a Game by Triumph, Patti Smith’s Wave, Real Life Ain’t This Way by Jay Ferguson, Blackfoot’s Strikes, or self-titled albums by Herman Brood and His Wild Romance, Tycoon, and New England. All of them were on the radio and in stores during June of ‘79.

New England’s debut album was released late in 1978, and we played it on my college radio station that spring. I remember hearing the band on D93, the FM Top 40 station in Dubuque. Part of my job at KDTH that spring and summer was to feed the automation system that ran its FM sister, D93—a whole room full of tape machines. The station’s music director liked to play music by new bands in hopes of breaking hits; there’s no doubt in my mind that he was on New England pretty early.

New England probably should have been huge. They were discovered in the Boston area by Bill Aucoin, who had discovered KISS and would manage them until 1982. Paul Stanley of KISS co-produced their debut album, and they opened for KISS on a concert tour. (The band also toured with with Styx and AC/DC.) The hype for the New England album was pretty intense, partly because of Aucoin’s reputation and Stanley’s participation, but also because the record was tailor-made for rock radio, particularly the lead single, “Don’t Ever Wanna Lose Ya.”

The essay on the New England album at Allmusic.com criticizes the album’s production, suggesting that some terrific songs get swamped by too much bombast. It’s hard to say what the album might have sounded like with a lighter touch behind the board, but there’s no point in speculating—co-producer Mike Stone, who would go on to overproduce Asia, wasn’t that kind of guy. I think there’s a plausible argument that the bombastic production actually works in favor of some of the songs, giving them a bigger-than-life quality.

After their debut album, New England would release two more albums that went nowhere (including one produced by Todd Rundgren), and the group would dissolve in 1983. Two members, keyboard player Jimmy Waldo and bassist Gary Shea, ended up in the group Alcatrazz alongside future metal gods Yngwie Malmsteen and Steve Vai. Two other members, guitarist/lead singer and principal songwriter John Fannon and drummer Hirsh Gardner, became record producers. They apparently played a reunion concert a few years back, and their albums are available on their website, although the site doesn’t appear to have been updated for a while.

On “Don’t Ever Wanna Lose Ya,” the big-n-busy production gives the record a power it wouldn’t have otherwise. There’s no question: If the singer loses ya, the consequences are going to be indescribable. Its combination of big guitar riffs, spacy synthesizers, and a singalong chorus should have made it a big hit, but it stalled at Number 40 on the Hot 100 during the week of June 16, 1979. “Hello Hello Hello” was apparently the second single from the album, although it didn’t chart. New England knew how to rock and roll, but that knowledge didn’t translate into anything like lasting fame, and they faded into history as just another one-hit wonder.

“Don’t Ever Wanna Lose Ya”/New England
“Hello Hello Hello”/New England (buy ‘em here)

Last week, we pointed out that Edward Bear should be one of the classic one-hit wonders of all time, but they aren’t. The 1973 hit “Last Song” was a Number-Three smash, but the group scored two other hit singles in the States, one of which, “Close Your Eyes,” squeaked into the Top 40. And so they are deprived of true one-hit wonder status. Another artist with a similar profile is the R&B singer George McCrae. His achievement is even greater than Edward Bear’s, for his biggest hit, “Rock Your Baby,” went all the way to Number One in the summer of 1974, not only in the States but in the UK and around the world. Here he is, lip-synching it in the 70s:

“Rock Your Baby” is the only George McCrae record anybody remembers, but it’s not his only chart hit. We’ll get to the details after a brief detour, because “Rock Your Baby” was also the first significant hit for the Florida-based TK Records label. Its founder has an interesting history of his own.

TK was founded by Henry Stone, who had been in the record biz since the late 40s. He spent much of the 60s as an independent distributor for major labels such as Atlantic, although he also owned his own labels. In the 70s, they turned out a handful of well-remembered R&B hits. “Funky Nassau” by Beginning of the End and “Clean Up Woman” by Betty Wright were on the Alston label (“Al” for Steve Alaimo, “ston” for Henry Stone); “Why Can’t We Live Together” by Timmy Thomas and “Let’s Straighten it Out” by Latimore were on Glades.

Harry Casey and Richard Finch worked in the warehouse at TK. They started writing songs, and “Rock Your Baby” was one of them. They intended to record it, but it was pitched too high for Casey to sing, so McCrae was drafted. Weep not for Casey and Finch, however—their group, KC and the Sunshine Band, would turn out OK. And they weren’t the only ones. Stone’s stable included McCrae’s wife Gwen, whose “Rockin’ Chair” was a smash in the summer of 1975, Peter Brown (“Do You Wanna Get Funky With Me” and “Dance With Me”), Bobby Caldwell (“What You Won’t Do for Love”), and Anita Ward (“Ring My Bell”), as well as artists more obscure, including Little Beaver (“Party Down”) and Jimmy Bo Horne (“Dance Across the Floor”). TK was briefly home to “Weird Al” Yankovic, whose Queen parody “Another One Rides the Bus” was the label’s final single release in 1981.

After “Rock Your Baby” did a week at Number One in July 1974, McCrae followed it with “I Can’t Leave You Alone,” which made the Top 10 on the R&B chart. The next year, McCrae’s “I Get Lifted” would return him to the Top 40. During its run on the Hot 100, it was listed with “I Can’t Leave You Alone” as a double-A-sided record—and “I Can’t Leave You Alone” is by far the stronger of the two songs. The pair spent three weeks at Number 37 in March 1975, and 15 weeks in the Hot 100 altogether.  (“I Get Lifted” had a second life 20 years later when Snoop Dogg sampled it for “Gin and Juice.”)

After a few more hits on the R&B chart and two more visits to the Hot 100, McCrae faded out of radio sight, but he’s still singing, and reportedly has a new album on the way. One thing he’s not, however, is a true one-hit wonder.

Cross-Promotional Note: Check Popdose for a new edition of One Day in Your Life today.

“I Get Lifted”/George McCrae (buy it here)

There’s a handful of acts that are often considered one-hit wonders but really aren’t. And we’re not talking about artists with one big hit and another that spent a couple of weeks in the lower reaches of the Hot 100—we’re talking about artists who hit the Top 40 more than once, but whose other entry is ignored or forgotten, like the Looking Glass (not just “Brandy” but “Jimmy Loves Mary Anne”), Billy Paul (not just “Me and Mrs. Jones” but “Thanks for Saving My Life”), and a-ha (not just “Take On Me” but “The Sun Always Shines on TV”).

You may not be aware that Edward Bear is in the latter category. “Last Song” made it to Number 3 on the Hot 100 in March 1973. It’s quintessentially of its time, in which the singer finally, forlornly, gives up on his one true love. It’s a companion piece to Lobo’s “Don’t Expect Me to Be Your Friend,” which was on the radio at about the same time. Both Lobo and Larry Evoy personify the sensitive male of the 1970s (even as their words indicate a touch of passive-aggressiveness).

Wait . . . who’s this Larry Evoy? Aren’t we talking about Edward Bear? We are. Edward Bear is not a solo act, it’s a group—a Canadian ensemble that ranged from a duo to a quartet, with various lineups over a period of about 10 years. Formed in Toronto in the mid 60s, they scored their first hit with “You, Me, and Mexico” in 1970. It rose to Number Three in Canada and Number 68 on the Hot 100. Nine more hits followed between 1970 and ‘74 on the Canadian charts, but only two would make it south of the border: “Last Song” and “Close Your Eyes,” which reached Number 37 in June 1973. The original lineup of Evoy, Danny Marks, and Paul Weldon had broken up about the time “Last Song” hit, and the lineup shifted constantly before the group petered out entirely in the mid 70s.

(Random Wikipedia fact: “The band is a favourite of Quentin Tarantino, who feels the band should be regarded as ‘the Beatles of Canada.’” There’s even a footnote to prove it’s true, although a halfway-close reading of the source indicates that Tarantino may not have been serious.)

“Close Your Eyes” lacks the wimpy perfection of “Last Song,” but it probably should have been a lot bigger than it was. (“You, Me, and Mexico” should have been bigger, too, although maybe that mariachi-style xylophone, or whatever it is, made it a bit too out-of-time for the summer of 1970.) And you can easily say they both cost Edward Bear a greater place in history. Without them, the group would be one of the half-dozen greatest one-hit wonder acts of the 70s.

Recommended Reading: At Popdose, Jon Cummings remembers local radio, local hits, and the kind of local-hero DJ we may never hear again. Even though local variations in music programming ain’t what they used to be (and even during the period Jon writes about, they weren’t what they used to be), they still exist. Stations that are voice-tracked by out-of-market talent generally produce their own music logs, so they retain control over what gets played, and they can respond to local market conditions. But over at Classic Rock FM, Dan Kelley talks about Clear Channel’s latest programming plan, which would put an end even to that.

“You, Me, and Mexico”/Edward Bear
“Close Your Eyes”/Edward Bear (buy ‘em here)

In my e-mail interview with John Picard, better known as Mister Zero of the Kings, we covered a lot of topics. (Scroll down  to see ‘em.) Like any writer would, I tried to cut the material down to the best stuff. And like most writers will at one time or another, I looked at the pile of cuts and decided they were too good to throw away. What follows are some random answers to random questions.

jb: One of the hookiest things about “The Beat Goes On” is the lyric, and phrases like “Hey Judy, get Trudy” and “Me and Zero request you in the Mercedes.” Did either you or [bassist and co-writer] Dave [Diamond] really have a Mercedes?

Zero: I had two old Benzes, a ’65 220 and a ’64 220S. Both were that old kind you see in movies shot in Europe, the big boxy cars with the small fins on the back. When the ’65 gave out, I wasn’t really looking for another, but saw the ’64 in a garage lot on the way to a gig. It looked pretty good, and I think it was $800, so I bought it. That was the one the song [mentions], we had a lot of fun in it, it really did have a smooth ride. I do remember it had a four-speed manual transmission with the shifter on the steering column, and it would always fall out of first gear if you didn’t hold it there. And the speedometer was this crazy sort of barbershop pole thing that I loved.

jb: Did it help you get girls . . . or is a hit record better for that?

Zero: Playing in the band helped more than the car. Having a hit just made it easier further from home!

jb: “Switchin’ to glide” is another cool phrase. How did that come about?

Zero: “Switchin’ to glide” was a line I came up with when I was thinking about how my dad used to coast down hills sometimes when we were on family vacations. I think we were in Allegany State Park, and there are long hills there, and we kids thought it was cool that he would put the car in neutral and coast for what seemed like miles. I was probably in the Benz driving around and kinda spacing out on that, and thought about doing that in the sky in an airplane, and the phrase “switchin’ to glide” just came to me. I didn’t know it would make it into a song. I told Dave about the idea and it just happened to fit with something he was working on. Of course trying to glide in a powered airplane is not a good idea there, kids!

jb: The radio biz has changed a lot since the early 80s, and not always (or usually) for the better. Talk a little about radio and the role it played in your career.

Zero: Yes, I think radio has changed. It is much more of a business now, run by corporate bean-counters and consultants. It has always been dominated by major label acts, which is fine, but the labels seem to be followers of fashion instead of champions of creativity. I remember the days when you would hear cool new songs on the radio and they would have an arc of life on the playlist. I suppose this is still true, but the quality of the music has diminished to my ears. Very “same-y.” And everything is in a box now—this demographic of people has to like this, and those people will like that. And a whole generation of people now refuses to pay for music, so the whole business is suffering. We consider ourselves very lucky to have had a real hit on the radio, but the great thing about those days was the fact that the audience, the listener, had a big part in it. Those ringing phones were the barometer of success—they couldn’t be ignored because this was no test market, or focus group, this was reality, and people were saying, “We listen to your station because you play this great music.” And then wonderful things could happen, based solely on the quality of the music and the audience reaction to it. I fear that organic interaction is a thing of the past. Not to mention the fact that a lot of current stuff sucks!

. . . There is a huge AM station in Toronto called CFRB 1010. . . . I remember they had a DJ named Wally Crowter, an older gent who had been there forever and was beloved by his audience. One day he played [our song] “If We Don’t Belong Together” and said something like, “Now that is a good song!” My old buddy Mike’s mother was a loyal listener to Wally’s show and I will tell you now that Mike’s mom never looked at me the same way again. I wasn’t just some wannabe kid in a band—the Kings were the real thing because Wally said so. And again, that was the power of radio, and I fear that is in the past.

More on American Bandstand: I would have to say that our appearance on American Bandstand was due to our U.S. manager, Randy Phillips, and his hard work. He came to Canada on his own dime and found us and said, “Do you guys have any idea of what is happening for you in the U.S. right now? Your songs are climbing the charts. I can help you make money.” As I said before, we were so green, and, well, Canadian, that we didn’t have a clue about the opportunity right in front of us. Randy’s connections and not-taking-no-for-an-answer ethic were key in keeping the flame on at the [record] label, and also in getting us gigs like Bandstand.

jb: What was Dick Clark like off-camera?

Zero: He was very nice to us. We were in makeup with him—I think his wife was doing the makeup—and he casually asked us questions that he would later use in the interview segment. One thing I remember was after the show, seeing him and his wife get in a station wagon and drive off. DC in a wagon? That was so un-cool it was cool.

About their record-company history after leaving Elektra: We did get a deal with Capitol Canada and put out an EP, but it didn’t do much. I think [it was] partly because of my own reluctance to let other people interfere with our music. Which was a mistake because the record business is collaborative, the people at the record companies want to be involved, and they should be—they have a stake in it as well. After all they want to believe in what they sell.

jb: I seem to recall reading that at some point in the late 80s, before The Kings Are Here got a CD release, copies of it were highly sought-after by collectors and pretty expensive. Did you know anything about that?

Zero: We did know that our album was highly sought-after and was selling for over $50, even before the Internet. The quest to have it released on CD ended when I finally got hold of someone with vision at Warner Canada, a man named Alan Fletcher, who just said: “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, let’s do it, and because you won’t make any money from the original 10 songs because of your debt load, let’s put five new bonus tracks on there and you can make some dough.” That man is in our personal Hall of Fame, someone with the balls to say “yes” in a world of “no.”

On opening for Jeff Beck, Eric Clapton, the Beach Boys, and others: Those opening gigs are good in some ways, but sometimes you only get a half hour, or you don’t get to use all the lights or the full sound system, or the other band takes up so much of the stage that you are left with a tiny little square with no drum riser so you have to spread out in a line without the drummer being behind the band. And you can run into some attitude from the main act’s crew. They sometimes act more like rock-star assholes than the band!

jb: Do you have plans to get out and play, maybe this summer during the fair-and-festival season?

Zero: We play as much as we can and love doing it, but we are not super-well known and are pretty obscure really. And we have no real agent pushing us. Summer is usually busier, and we have been hoping our DVD will increase awareness of the band. As you can see from our live videos, we know how to get the job done. We are a great party fun-time totally pro band. And being professional means a great deal to us.

On having a hit song: All my life, I have been in love with hit songs. Who isn’t? They really are the soundtrack of modern life. When we got signed to Elektra, the A-and-R man who signed us told me, “The only thing that matters in this business is hits!” And of course a hit can be just about anything from “Smells Like Teen Spirit” to “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” so there is a lot of leeway. It just has to be original-sounding and different and catchy, like “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide.”

One more time: The DVD documentary Anatomy of a One-Hit Wonder: The Kings’ “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide” is available at the Kings’ website, as are several of their CDs and other swag. More Kings music can also be found at iTunes. I’m extremely grateful to Zero for finding this blog and getting in touch, and for being so gracious with the time it took to put this interview together.

Now go and buy the DVD.

Life is what happens while we’re making other plans. For the Kings, the failure of their second album and the decision to leave Elektra Records put them back on the road in Canada. Years went by, members got day jobs, but they also continued to play and record when opportunities arose. And 29 years after “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide” blasted onto American radio and into rock history, they’re looking back with a new DVD documentary Anatomy of a One-Hit Wonder: The Kings’ “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide,” which is available through the Kings’ website. In part 3 of my interview, Mister Zero of the Kings (who produced and directed the DVD) talks about good tunes you never heard, gigs you may have missed, and the legacy of their most famous record. (Scroll down for parts 1 and 2.)

jb: It was 1995 before you made Unstoppable, and 2002 until Because of You.

Zero: Unstoppable was basically financed by me from my day job working on movie sets here in Toronto. It was a real labor of love that took a year-and-a-half to make in fits and starts, but it is a great record full of great songs. Because of You was made with the support of Bullseye Records of Canada, an indie label run by a friend of ours, Jaimie Vernon. He had a U.S. backer with enough money to do it right, so we were able to do it in a proper studio and do it every day for a month, not just on weekends or what-have-you. Again I think there are a lot of quality songs on there, and we are quite proud of it.

jb: The DVD features over an hour of videos, and some of those tunes are indeed fabulous. Which are the ones you’re proudest of, or best represent what the band is all about?

Zero: You do know that songwriters think that all their songs are great and should be hits, right? In our case we have some that are not great, but we do have lots that really are great, and if we hadn’t fallen from grace the way we did, maybe they would have been hits. Some are on the DVD, and some we never did make a video for. One called “Shoulda Been Me” is one of those; it’s just an obvious hit song. I remember playing it when we opened for the Beach Boys. The audience had never heard it, and at the end they gave it a big hand. I remember thinking, “You know, that thing could go!” It did get some play here [in Canada], but because it was our own indie thing, it didn’t do what maybe it could have. One song on the DVD that got a lot of airplay here in Canada was “If We Don’t Belong Together,” which is a ballad that Sonny Keyes and I wrote. The MOR stations loved that one. . . .

Other songs that I like on the DVD are “Parting of the Ways,” “Your Old Boyfriends,” “Bad Side of Town,” and “Partyitis.” A personal fave is “Cosmic Groove.” I think the lyric I did in that one is spot-on. And it’s a nine-minute jam-fest with lots of me showing off on guitar. As a player I’m not great, but I have fun.

jb: On the DVD, you tell about your first American show, where you opened for Jeff Beck, and the disaster it turned into. Surely the gigs got better, though.

Zero: We did play a few more dates with Jeff Beck, and they turned out better, but it wasn’t a great fit. We also opened for Eric Clapton once, and it was like the Jeff Beck thing—here we are again opening for a guitar god and the place is full of guitar players, and I’m the first axe man of the night. No pressure there! I think that might have been the show where my guitar strap was on wrong, and I walked out and dropped the bloody thing! So I went to my spare and it was out of tune! Shit! After the show, Eric Clapton went up to Dave and said, “Hey, great singing, man,” which was incredible, but he didn’t say “boo” to me!

jb: I know there’s YouTube video of some recent Kings gigs, like the Andy Kim Christmas Show last December.

Zero: The show with Andy Kim was a lot of fun. It was sold out and packed, which is always good, and we got to meet and hang a bit with Lawrence Gowan, who plays with Styx now, Ron Sexsmith, a super songwriter, Andy Kim of course, a very nice guy with some iconic huge hits, and also Alex Lifeson from a little Toronto band called Rush. I think the finale might be on YouTube as well. Everyone is up doing “Rock Me Gently,” Dave is close to the front stage left singing backup, and I’m behind, faking it on a guitar that isn’t plugged in! It’s pretty cool. [Watch it here.]

There are some great videos I made after I finished the DVD. You can see them on our website, thekingsarehere.com. In fact I may swap them into the DVD if we go into reprinting it. We have better versions of “Clean Shot” and “My Habit” for example, which are both terrific tunes as well.

jb: I’m curious about what you think of the phrase “one-hit wonder.” Are you frustrated by having had just the one hit? Or is having made one of the greatest party songs of all time, one that’s fondly remembered by so many people, a fair exchange for scoring just once?

Zero: I have a saying: “It’s better to be a one-hit wonder than a no-hit nothing.” . . . When I was growing up, I never really looked down on the one-hitters. I was always rooting for them to succeed with more great songs. And as we found out more about the music business, we began to realize that there are a lot of factors that have to line up perfectly for a hit to happen. Some bands never really charted a lot in a conventional Top 40-type way—you may have heard of Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. I recently read a book about Neil Diamond, and I was shocked to learn that “Switchin’ to Glide” charted higher than “Solitary Man”! That kind of blew my mind, and I intend to boast about that for years to come.

Seriously, we certainly are grateful for our hit. People have asked, “Do you ever get sick of playing it?” and the answer is, honestly, no. From the stage, you can feel the energy level rise as soon as I play that great riff that Dave wrote. People love it and so do we, and it is an honor to be part of people’s lives and memories like that. People have told us how it has helped them through bad times, how they got laid to it, drove too fast to it, partied to it, and all sorts of different things. It really is an amazing accomplishment to achieve even once. We have talked about how it will be around forever and outlast us, and that is more than OK. It’s great, in fact.

The DVD and several Kings CDs are available at the band’s website. Kings music not available on the website can be found at iTunes. Coming next: a few more comments on this and that from Mister Zero.

When the Kings and producer Bob Ezrin brewed up “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide” in 1980, they did so in the privacy of the recording studio. Getting it out to the world was the next step. Copies began hitting music director’s desks in the summer of 1980, but it had to hit the right desks before it could take flight. In part 2 of my interview with Kings guitarist and songwriter Mister Zero, we talk about the way the record broke nationwide, playing American Bandstand, and making a followup album. (For part 1, scroll down.)

(The DVD Anatomy of a One-Hit Wonder: The Kings’ “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide” is available through the Kings’ website.)

jb: I remember hearing “Switchin’ to Glide” all by itself on some radio stations. I’m guessing that a short version was a necessary evil, since radio stations were going to be reluctant to play a six-minute record by anybody in 1980, let alone a six-minute record by bunch of unknowns. How did the whole segue end up on so many stations?

Zero: The record company logically thought that we wouldn’t have much chance of getting the segue played, so they released “Switchin’” on its own. It made a bit of noise, but not much. From what I remember, our camp was pressuring the label to put the segue out, and they finally did. Then we started to see success with influential FM stations like the Loop in Chicago, WRIF in Detroit, and WMMS in Cleveland. They found out that the Kings got great phones. People wanted to hear that weird song again, it was very fresh and new-sounding. With that kind of encouragement, the promo department at Elektra got into high gear and really started going. . . .

A biggie happened when we were at the Elektra office in New York. They told us we’d been added on WLS, and they broke out the booze. Being as green as we were, we had no idea of the significance, but we never turned down a party. It so happened that WLS was one of the largest AM stations in the U.S. out of Chicago and they played us a lot. We eventually got to #9 on their chart, with a piece of music over five minutes in length! We also landed CKLW out of Windsor, Canada [just across the river from Detroit], another powerful AM station with massive U.S. coverage. AM stations can reach out over huge areas, especially at night, so millions of people were now being turned on to the Kings.

After that a lot of key stations in major markets got on the bandwagon from New York to Texas to California, and the phones kept ringing with requests for the Kings. That kind of buzz is what led our future manager, Randy Phillips, to our door.  In case you didn’t know, he is now the CEO of AEG Live, one of the biggest music companies in the world. And he hasn’t taken our calls in 20 years! Love the music biz!

jb: So in January 1981, the Kings got to be on American Bandstand.

Zero: That experience was great, going to the ABC studio in Hollywood and seeing the set. They did a bunch of shows in one day, so you had to wait your turn. The show they taped before us had Kool and the Gang doing “Celebration,” which was something to see. We shared our episode with Nick Lowe and Rockpile, who did “Teacher Teacher” and one other song. We performed “Switchin’ to Glide” and “Don’t Let Me Know,” and if I do say so myself, we blew those Englishmen off the stage.

jb: I can remember playing tracks from your second album, Amazon Beach, on the radio in 1981, but it didn’t produce another hit and it wasn’t around for long. Ezrin produced that one too, but what was different for you guys on that record?

Zero: The demos we sent the record company were received very well, and everyone was enthusiastic about the project. We had eight originals and two covers in mind, the covers being our killer versions of “California Girls” and the old Animals track “When I Was Young.” So we started out with good intentions, but things started to go wrong almost from the beginning. We had learned so much from Bob Ezrin on our first album that we started applying his methods to our latest songs, and consequently, I don’t think he had as much “producing” to do. So we felt that he started making changes that weren’t needed, and then our songs were different than we envisioned. And because he was working with KISS at the same time, we felt he was spread too thin. The studio we were in was unpleasant compared to [Nimbus 9]; we were stuck out in an industrial area instead of being in the heart of the city and the vibes were lousy. Then we started running out of time, and we had to scrap the two cover songs, which was a real shame.

Then when the rough mixes were sent to the label in Los Angeles, they freaked out because the song arrangements were so different than the demos they had liked. It was a real mess. What happened was the label didn’t like it and basically buried it. I can’t say I blame them. It wasn’t their fault; it was ours for not standing up more for what we believed in. But it was an impossible situation—it wasn’t like we could go against one of the biggest producers in the world, the guy who got us there in the first place. And so, Amazon Beach sank like a stone.

jb: What happened after Amazon Beach?

Zero: We still had friends at the label and they wanted to give us another shot, so we moved to LA for a few months, worked on music, and met with some other producers, but it wasn’t really going that well. At one point our manager said he thought it might be a good move to leave Elektra because our supporters there were lessening in number, and he would get us another deal. Well, the first part happened, but not the second. We were on a plane back to Toronto, where we went back to slugging it out in the clubs again. . . . What we didn’t do was fold. After our drummer left, Sonny and Dave and I continued on because we really believe in what we do.

Coming next: After Amazon Beach, which neither the band nor its record label liked, the Kings did not disappear—they kept playing, into the new millennium.

Few of us who blog do so in a vacuum. The power of Google means in the nearly five-year history (!) of this blog, I’ve heard from several of my subjects—and best of all, none of them came bearing a cease-and-desist order or anything. Hearing from John Picard, better known as Mister Zero of the Kings, was a special thrill for me. The Kings’ one-and-only hit, “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide” remains one of the great party songs of the age, and the fact that it was the only hit the band ever had in the States makes them all the more fascinating to me.

You want to hear it right now, don’t you? OK.

The band has put together a DVD called Anatomy of a One-Hit Wonder that tells the story of the song and the band. That wasn’t enough for me, however. I had a bunch of questions for Zero, and this week, I’ll share his answers.

jb: On the DVD, bassist and lead singer David Diamond says “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide” was born while he was tuning up on stage one night. True, or was there more to it than that?

Zero: One of the funny things about making this DVD was realizing how we all remember things in different ways. When Dave says that he just happened on the opening riff for “This Beat Goes On” while tuning his guitar during soundcheck at a strip joint, I believe him, but I don’t remember it as a specific thing. I do remember the gig, and I guess [keyboard player] Sonny [Keyes] remembers the moment as well, but I don’t. I left some of our conflicting memories in the DVD because I find it funny that while we all usually line up on things in general, the details are often different. And a lot of the time it seemed like the four sort-of-fuzzy memories added up to one clear one. So, while I may not remember it, something obviously happened and that riff was memorable enough to work on later.

jb: Was it always two songs segued together, or were they entirely separate at some point?

Zero: The songs were written totally separately, and I think they came together as part of the process where you try new ideas. The music and lyrics were both rewritten when it seemed like the two songs might be better together than apart. Then there was a lot of tweaking to maximize the hooks.

jb: “Beat/Glide” and your first two albums were produced by Bob Ezrin, who had produced Alice Cooper, KISS, and Lou Reed, and was just off producing The Wall for Pink Floyd. How is it that a guy who could have worked with anyone in the world at that moment chose to work with you?

Zero: We were recording in what was probably the best studio in Toronto, Nimbus 9. We had made demos in other smaller places but we felt that we were ready to step up. We got some dough together and went in knowing full well that this was the place where the Guess Who, Alice Cooper and others had made records. Bob Ezrin was back in Toronto after being away working on The Wall. He had produced the Alice Cooper stuff at Nimbus and came in one day to hang out. Of course, the word spread that this big dude was in the house, and one of our managers went and sweet-talked him into having a listen. Something must have caught his ears because he took our tapes home, and when his kids thought we were good, I guess he thought we maybe had a shot. At first he agreed to mix a couple of things, but when he got into the process of tearing apart the tracks to mix, he realized that we really did have some good material, but we didn’t have much of a clue about making a real record. So that started the ball rolling, and then it was Cinderella story-time.

jb: On the DVD, drummer Max Styles says that Ezrin put you through “rock and roll boot camp.” How so?

Zero: Well, when you are dealing with a major label and a real producer, making a real record, you learn in a hurry that there is hard work involved and very little is left to improvisation. All the players’ parts are worked on for maximum hook exploitation. Your goal is to make every note count, and therefore every bass note, every vocal line, every drum beat is there for a reason. So, the boot camp came from weeks of rehearsing, especially the rhythm section, because you build records from the bottom up. Dave and Max would work with Bob and come up with a solid foundation, and then we would leave them to drill the parts over and over until they were seamless. We would go eat or hang out while they were drilling—it was great! The effort paid off, though. You can hear how all the parts are organized. It’s not just some off-the-cuff jam session.

The DVD, Anatomy of a One-Hit Wonder: The Kings’ “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide,” is available through the Kings’ website. Coming next: The song gets on the radio and becomes a hit, but then comes the challenge that accompanies every hit record: doing it again.