CHIP & THE QUARTERTONES, "SIMPLE SIMON" C/W "YOU WERE MY BABY" (CARLTON 604, REL. 4/1964)
By
1964, all of Carlton’s hitmakers were gone to other labels and, like Ember
Records, it seemed lost in the shuffle of that year’s big changes in pop music.
Neither label attempted to get in on the British Invasion; both pretended it
hadn’t happened, and that 1962-style music still stood a chance on the pop
charts. It’s possible Joe Carlton saw the future of music and didn’t care for
it.
Today
we’ll hear the label’s penultimate release—a one-shot by white vocal group Chip
and The Quartertones. This single could not be more out of sync with its year
of music. This quintet came from Philadelphia and was formed by schoolkids who
liked singing together; in 1962 they went professional and, one would assume,
had steady gigs at local teen venues. They made today’s record at a local
studio and the tapes got into Joe Carlton’s hands. The two songs, composed by group members, stood as much
chance to make the hit list as a canary training record, but Joe’s accountant
could sort it all out when he shuttered the label.
One
would not expect such a record to be any good, but one side of this
mega-obscure platter is a wacked-out delight. “Simple Simon” suggests a merger
of bubblegum pop and The Ramones, with its daffy take on Mother Goose and a
turbo-charged vocal assault by these five voices.
An
out-of-nowhere sax solo, surrounded by handclaps, goes off the rails for its
brief duration before this appealing slice of nonsense fades out.
Hear it >>>>> HERE. <<<<<
The
alleged A-side, “You Were My Baby,” couldn’t be more out of time in the year of
“A Hard Day’s Night”. On its own merits, it’s a homely, agreeable piece of
chunky ofay doo-wop that must have gone over well with live audiences—hence,
its inclusion here. It’s harmless and escapes being generic by the earthy sound
of this regional recording studio.
The
group recorded at least two other sides in that session that remain unissued.
Clamor for them has been…well, non-existent. As will readership for this post,
which I’m sure will sit at one or two views, and only over time, when someone
clicks on it by mistake.
Hear it >>>>> HERE. <<<<<
Cash Box reviewed the single in their April 25, 1964 issue, but didn't do more than assign both sides a B+; no description of its two tracks was attempted. When
Carlton folded, its master tapes went missing—except for those of Anita Bryant,
whose contract was purchased by Columbia Records. Bear Family eventually found
the master tapes of Jack Scott and put out a five-CD box set after several LPs
of reissued material. Most of the more obscure stuff only seems to exist via
the surviving records. Carlton’s pressings are mostly good-quality vinyl which
sounds great. Some singles went out on styrene, but those seem to be in the
minority. One person out of 100,000 is likely to have any interest in these
forgotten artists nowadays. If you’re one of those people, thank you for being
here. We need to stick together.
An ESL-style account of this group, with two blurry photographs that were apparently taken by one of the five members (thus, he's not in his group's photos!) can be found here:
https://whitedoowopcollector.blogspot.com/2015/06/chip-quatertones-and-intentions.html
Again, I'm pretty sure this will fall on deaf eras. So it goes.
Tomorrow:
Black solo singer Betty Turner delivers the goods on a 1962 Infinity Records
release; one side is a major ear-worm.
I feel like these might have been recorded tongue-in-cheek? Reminds me of what Frank Zappa would record in the early '70s. Two fun songs nonetheless.
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