THE DIKES, "LIGHT ME UP" C/W "DON'T LEAVE POOR ME," FEDERAL 45-12249 (REL.12/1955)

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Devoid of its slang meaning, The Dikes is still one weird name for a Black vocal group of the 1950s. If their goal was to attract attention, which is likely, it failed; their lone single, released at the end of 1955, went nowhere, despite its distinctive musical quality.

This was another of the tantalizing finds I made in that mini-haul last week; we have one more—the rarest of them all—for tomorrow’s post. The Dikes’ single isn’t far behind, though.

A word about the promotional copy of King and Federal dee jay pressings: those boilerplate biographies, perhaps intended as talking points for influencers who might make unknowns into sudden stars, are seldom accurate. Kudos to the imprints for giving the names of the performers; alas, those are rife with mis-spellings. The stories of their lives are also often apocryphal. This led to widespread misinformation, which muddied already-roiled waters for those who attempt research on these obscure performers.

The “Chosim brothers,” as cited on one of the two labels, is an unfortunate typo. Other researchers have hit a wall trying to find out what their actual surname might have been. (One historian on 45cat.com proposes their real surname may have been Fears, as he has found a Lucius Fears whose lifespan syncs up with the other performers’.)

Onto the record. Here are two fine, bluesy performances with a distinct Southern feel. The group came from the Atlanta area—a hotbed of vernacular music—and caught the ear of Ralph Bass, King Records’ longtime A&R man (talent scout and artist management). Bass found a good deal of talent in the Southeast, and it’s possible another King or Federal artist, such as Hank Ballard or James Brown, might have tipped him to the group. Their two songs are solid senders that may have been recorded in an Atlanta studio. It seems unlikely that King would shoulder the cost of transportation for five men from Georgia to Ohio and back. Though King’s Cincinnati studios yielded many earthy, gritty Black music gems in the 1940s, ‘50s and ‘60s, these two songs don’t have the same sound. They’re lighter, looser and brighter.

“Light Me Up,” penned by non-member Dan Welsh (who may have been a friend of the group), shows The Dikes’ vocal interplay and the smooth-yet-intense lead vocal of what I think is Lowell Spearman, the apparent main man of the quintet. The combo swings on this easy-going ode to sexual attraction. The song presages John D. Loudermilk’s 1963 composition “Turn Me On,” a phrase The Beatles co-opted for their 1964 single “She’s a Woman,” and which became part of the hippie lexicon until its usage by middle-aged wannabe swingers doomed it to extinction. (I still hear elderly folks [that is, those who are older than I]) use it in public.

You can hear the influence of The Drifters (in their Clyde McPhatter-led days) and The Midnighters in this group’s approach. Those were unavoidable influences on Black vocal groups of 1955. To their credit, The Dikes find their own approach through the filter of these persuasive examples.

>>> Hear it HERE! <<<

Cash Box thought this was the start of something special.

“Don’t Leave Poor Me” sounds much more like McPhatter and The Drifters. This song, penned by Spearman, moves fast and benefits from two back-to-back instrumental breaks by guitar and sax. The other Dikes deliver hearty harmonies that impress: check out the diabolical sound cluster on the phrase “you’re gonna love me too.”

This was the intended A-side, and for once a record label got it right. This stood every chance of r&b chart success. Its stronger sound and more forceful approach would have sounded like a million bucks on a car radio or a roadhouse jukebox. That the single got a retail release means that it received an encouraging response from deejays. It likely sold well in the Southeast but there was too much competition in Black music that year; 1955 was to r&b was 1965 was to pop music: an overcrowded field of strong contenders, with more performers on record than the market could support. It’s a pity The Dikes didn’t (a) choose a better name and (b) get a second shot. They never recorded again.

>>> Hear it HERE! <<<

This record joins that of The Hi-Tones, roof-raising group who made a much-coveted one-off 45 for King Records in 1960, in my subcategory of r&b rara avis.

Tomorrow: even more rara-y and avis-y: the lone release of The Pyramids, who became The Tempo-Mentals (heard a couple of Saturdays back here). You may get déjà vu from this 1955 Federal Records platter!