DEAN BEARD, "RAKIN AND SCRAPIN" C/W "ON MY MIND AGAIN," ATLANTIC 45-1137 (REL. 4/1957)


Today’s record is an example of the feeding frenzy that took place when rock ‘n’ roll was an exciting new commodity and the record business, upended by its arrival, tried to adapt. The April 27, 1957 issue of Cash Box is full of coverage of today’s platter. It was part of a mad dash to acquire promising masters from small regional labels who couldn’t complete with the major companies and often suffered when one of their releases became a hit.

This breathless chunk of news flashes paints a picture of the energetic chaos that was 1957 pop music:


In 1957, the major labels hadn’t yet grasped how they could replicate rock ‘n’ roll on their own terms. Within a year, they had it locked down. But in this bug-eyed manic rush of acquisition, rustic artists got major-label releases that tanked more often than they hit. By year’s end, most imprints became risk-averse and figured they could do it themselves and save time and money.

Their results were never as good as the regional labels’ work, but it didn’t matter. They’d cracked the rock ‘n’ roll code and tidied it up to their liking. A promising young artist would work in their studios, with their arrangers, their choice of songs and seasoned musicians—some middle-aged—in the place of their hometown band.

If those musicians were people like Mickey Baker, George Barnes, Panama Francis and King Curtis, the results tend to be much better. Too often, young rock ‘n’ rollers got a standard pop-song arrangement, with a bland orchestra and vocal chorus to further water down any signs of life. They did their best to project through this audio clutter, and I’m sure most left the studio feeling that they’d been betrayed. Yes, they got to make a record; no, it wasn’t how they wanted to sound.

Dean Beard, the artist of today’s single, came from West Texas—his home turf for most of his life. Born in 1935, he was the right age to be a rock ‘n’ roll first-liner. He got the bug by 1955, when he made his first records for the Abilene, TX imprint Fox. Those are pure country sides; they border on Western swing with zero rock ‘n’ roll content.

Beard traveled to Memphis, TN in the hope of getting on Sun Records. Sam Phillips did two session with him in 1956 but chose not to release the results. (European researchers turned up the tapes in the 1970s and Beard’s Sun sides are now revered by rockabilly fans.)

Beard returned to Texas, and with his friends Jimmy Seals and Dash Crofts, he made a rockabilly single for Edmoral, a label owned by country star Slim Willet. Dean pounded the piano on these two sides—a solid rocker and a school-of-Elvis ballad—with Seals on saxophone and Crofts on percussion. This potent coupling got enough attention that Jerry Wexler of Atlantic Records decided to move in. Though Atlantic was a blues, jazz and r&b label, Wexler saw the value of having an Elvis of his own. When none of those-type records went anywhere, Wexler went back to what Atlantic did best—although he inflicted dreadful pop arrangements on his Black vocalists to oft-ghastly results.

“Rakin And Scrapin,” the B-side of the Edmoral release, was made the A—a good call on Wexler’s behalf. Beard has shed the quaint country sounds of his earlier records. Seals’ saxophone plays a rhythmic riff beside Beard’s hearty vocal, then takes a solo that sounds like a duck in its death throes.

A hot guitar takes the second solo slot, as Seal’s squeals continue. Crofts’ drumming is basic but forceful and helps drive this side along in its easy swing. Seal’s sax takes a second solo, no better than the first. He does this record no favors; his playing is out of tune and watery. Not his finest moment!

>>> Hear it HERE! <<<

Ya know...Cash Box got it right this time.

Dean gets into Jack Scott territory with “On My Mind Again,” a moody ballad with vocal group The Four Pals and an acoustic guitar tingling and twangling beside Beard’s voice.

I usually favor the rockin’ side of rockabilly singles, but I like this side better than “Rakin.” Seal’s poor musicianship hurts that otherwise-great side. The earthy, almost eerie feeling of this ballad is gripping. This song has The David Lynch Factor © in full glorious force.

>>> Hear it HERE! <<<

Beard made two follow-ups for Atlantic—both discs I hope to find. Beard chose to record at Slim Willet’s Texas studio. None of that New York stuff for him! He joined his pals Seals and Crofts and joined instrumental group The Champs; he made two solo singles for group leader/producer Dave Burgess for Challenge, The Champs’ label.

Burgess fired him in 1959; he claimed that Beard tried to horn in on some of Seals and Crofts’ payments. Back to Texas he went. Beard stuck close to his home turf for the rest of his life, and, after an inactive stretch, Dean took part in the rockabilly revival of the 1970s and ‘80s and was a popular performer at live shows. He passed on in 1989 from complications with diabetes and heart ailments.

Tomorrow: who was Motown’s first female performer? It wasn’t Mary Wells. You’ll hear this singer’s Motown debut from 1960. All will be revealed…

Comments

  1. Hey fellas—let's do that "second verse same as the first" ruse 'cause we're lazy writers...and then, as a goof, let's just make the third verse the same as the first, too." The kids'll never catch on. Still, it's a good song. Hard to believe that Seals and Crofts were in their late teens in 1957. By the 1970s they would become captains of "Yacht" rock and ambassadors for the Baháʼí faith.

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