The Ozells: The Gossips c/w Please Don't Go (Cub K 9126, September 1963)

 

Facebook refuses to let me post on the Frank's Jukebox page today, so we're back to this blog until they get their act together.

I have nothing to tell you about The Ozells, a Black girl group who made their one single in 1963—the final release on M-G-M’s youth-market imprint Cub Records before it was shuttered for four years. It was produced by Julie Rifkind, who would cofound Spring Records at the end of the 1960s and Winston “Buzzy” Willis, one-time member of Black vocal group The Solitaires and later a music-biz producer, project manager and general wheeler-dealer. This production team seems to have been recruited in the final days of Cub’s first life; their names are on a few of its last releases.

 

My copy of this single has, written on the label of “The Gossips:” Do Not Play This Side. I hate to so brazenly violate such a request, but it must be done. It opens with whispering—perhaps the reason behind the harsh edict against it. Yet this was the side that got “A” status and what little airplay The Ozells received. It’s a dramatic anti-gossip epic with strings and a vocal chorus in support of the solid, earthy vocals of the lead Ozell, who assays this song with a likable performance. This side has become a favorite of soul DJs in recent years. Sometimes it only takes six decades for the world to warm up to a record!

 

https://app.box.com/s/ekdjooliym7dzg6xuudxkpagw68m8sfs

 

“Please Don’t Go” gets into a more Shirelles vibe, with a more frantic beat and those darting strings caroming all over the place. The Ozells make a better presentation here, as the vocal chorus is absent on this mere B-side. Lead Ozell sings with perkiness and spirit. I think this is my favorite side of the single; perhaps he or she who wrote on the record label was right! These girls deserved a second chance, but that was a rare option in the record biz of 1963.

 

https://app.box.com/s/24ng55eusi42ivbkt4j3z7u8le6502lj

 

Such records have an innate sadness: all hopes for a future of fame were pinned on this humble release, lost in the weekly sea of new singles and issued on an imprint that, in its last stages, merely fulfilled contractual obligations. I always wonder what became of these young vocalists? Did they just give up after this record failed? Did they become session singers or backup vocalists? Was it just a lark? To get signed by a record label required a certain amount of unpaid, unseen effort. There are always people—several individuals—behind the scenes of every record and it’s a pity their stories were untold by the very nature of the business.

 

Tomorrow: the story of O continues with Nashville trio The Omegas, who hawk a pair of songs by Felice and Boudleaux Bryant. Good stuff from 1960.