THE RAN-DELLS, "THE SOUND OF THE SUN" C/W "COME ON AND LOVE ME TOO" (CHAIRMAN 45-4407, 11/1963)

 

The novelty song was a staple of pop music in the first decade of rock ‘n’ roll. Novelty recordings emerged with records themselves in the late 19^th century. The 1922 “Okeh Laughing Record” remained in print for decades; as a 45-rpm release, it was coupled by Bob Atcher’s unforgettable piss-take on “I’m Thinking Tonight of My Blue Eyes,” which, once heard, is never forgotten for the heart-rending shriek of agony that by design dooms most copies to audio distortion.

Early rock ‘n’ roll was treated as one big novelty by the music establishment—a titanic goof that was good for coin at the moment but couldn’t sustain itself. The buying public would return to “good music” before long.

That didn’t happen; “good music” became as marginalized as religious fascism was in the 1970s. The new spirit of youth culture commanded popular music; more sophisticated listeners moved on to jazz or easy listening. The public endearment towards novelty records was one constant through popular music’s arc of the 20th century.

Two teenagers from Wildwood, NJ created a beloved rock-pop novelty with “The Martian Hop,” which was born while Steve Rappaport and John Spirt had an impromptu music session with guitars and bongos in a suburban living room. Space travel was part of the optimism of the early 1960s, and the two imagined a ridiculous account of an official greeting from the planet Mars—the red planet was throwing a dance party for all of mankind.

The two guys completed the song in minutes, their goal to create the silliest scenario of interstellar harmony. Rappaport wrote a delightful piece about the creation of the song and its rise to the pop Top 20, in this retrieved page from the long-gone Fortunecity website:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090812111333/http://members.fortunecity.com/mindzwarped/links.htm

Rappaport reveals that he used an early wave synthesizer to create the otherworldly sonic affects that kick off “Martian Hop,” pre-Moog, at Brandeis University where he was enrolled. The two youths booked time at Bell Sound Studios in Manhattan and, as Rappaport described, naively multi-tracked the potential hit into existence.

Songwriter Gerry Goffin passed the studio as they played back the results and was impressed. He offered to have his friend and associate Don Kirshner give it a listen. It took months for Kirshner to get back to Rappaport, but he did, and offered to release it on his short-lived Chairman label, which he ran with Lou Adler. Chairman was designed for new, unheard groups, and The Ran-Dells would prove its only chart hit.

“Martian” got into the r&b Top 30 and the pop Top 20 in the summer of 1963. Its B-side was a serious love song written by Rappaport’s cousin, as unlike the A-side as one might imagine but well-done in its own regard.

For the follow-up, Don Kirshner took more control. He insisted that Rappaport and Spirt come up with “another space song,” and, for the B-side, he foisted upon them the backing track of a hit song by West Coast surf duo Jan and Dean, “Surf City.” The Don of pop music bade them write a new song around its chord changes. The result was an odd hybrid of East and West Coast music.

The topside, “The Sound of the Sun,” is a sequel to their hit. It sounds like a demented blend of Jan and Dean, Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound and “Surfin’ Bird” by The Trashmen. With its surreal astral imagery, high, wailing voices, synthesizer FX and a backing track so fat it drowns out much of what’s being sung, this side was as avant-garde as a potential chart hit dared be in ’63. Alas, perhaps due to its muddy mix, it didn’t prove radio-friendly, and the two young men found themselves one-hit wonders. It’s one odd recording and deserves to be appreciated for its gleeful out-there-ness.

Hear it >>>>> HERE. <<<<<

“Come on and Love Me Too,” as a songwriting exercise in problem-solving, is a charming throwaway. It’s hard not to think of “Surf City” while listening—for now-obvious reasons. The young songwriters did their best, given the stricture of their forced assignment; it was only a B-side, so who’d ever bother to hear it?

Hear it >>>>> HERE. <<<<<

The single's misfortune of release during the national period of mourning for the fallen President, John F. Kennedy, meant that it joined many other probable hits into instant nothing. After “Sound of the Sun” didn’t make the charts, the duo took a few months off, and then made a final 45 for Laurie Records in 1964. “Beyond the Stars” took the outer-space theme more seriously and is a pop ballad. On the flip, “It’s Wintertime” hews to the sound of their hit but celebrates the snowy time of the year and exudes goofy glee. I need to get a copy of that; it’s a record nobody wants, although it’s rare.

Steve Rappaport went on to be a member of folk-rock group The Sidekicks, who had a minor hit for RCA-Victor in 1966. Do read his account of the rise and fall of The Ran-Dells; it’s a prime specimen of how pop music worked in the early 1960s.

Tomorrow: we get soulful with Huey “Piano” Smith and His Clowns on a NOLA classic via a 1958 Ace Records 45.