CHARLES BROWN, "DON'T FOOL WITH MY HEART "C/W "SEVEN LONG DAYS," ALADDIN 45-3092 (REL. 10/1951)
To
understand the extent of the change in Black music, it’s necessary to encounter
recordings from the early post-war period. Rhythm & blues was a different
creature in 1951: it still bore the style of the 1940s—a relaxed, after-hours
feeling that owed more to jazz than blues. Vocalists didn’t shout or shriek. A
relaxed cool or a rascal’s voice of freedom and mischief were most often heard.
These were the stylistic sons of Nat “King” Cole and Louis Jordan, two major forces
in ‘40s r&b.
Charles
Brown, gifted singer, songwriter and pianist, was of the Cole cool school. Born
in 1922, he studied classical piano and received a Bachelor of Science degree
at age 20. With the war on, Brown’s educational career was sidelined; he moved
to San Francisco to work in its shipyards. He’d already begun a career in
playing blues music and developed a following. As a member of Johnny Moore’s
Three Blazers, he wrote “Drifting Blues,” which stayed on the music charts for
six months in 1945 and was a major signpost of what lay ahead for Black music.
Their style, a variant on the Nat King Cole Trio’s piano-bass-guitar line-up,
proved a large influence on West Coast performers. The group achieved a cool
that was an important part of the post-war mien of Black music.
Signed
to Aladdin Records, Brown had a long string of hits, with and without the
Blazers, including 1947’s “Merry Christmas Baby,” 1949’s “Trouble Blues” and 1951’s
“Black Night.” In that year, Black music began its break from the post-war cool
style with the emergences of vocal groups The Clovers, Midnighters and “5”
Royales, who pushed tempos and hardened their approach. This new breed didn’t
yet threaten the Charles Browns, but would soon subsume them.
All
this was in the future when Brown made his second seven-inch disc for Aladdin—with
two songs he didn’t write but infused with his special approach. This record
showed up in a seller’s dollar bin last week, alongside other early r&b
items that looked wrecked but which I knew would clean up and be playable. The
early Aladdin 45s impress with their good mastering, fine sound quality and vinyl
pressings. The imprint would switch to styrene in their later years to the
consternation of collectors and r&b fanciers.
This
1951 platter has an unusual problem. It has a crack around the label area. This
doesn’t otherwise affect the record and may have been caused by too much force
during its manufacture or from someone who dropped the record on a hard
surface. The vinyl didn’t break, but the impact affected the circumference of
the label, which is raised from the playing surface and thus potentially vulnerable.
It must be handled with care but it’s still intact. There aren’t many of these
around. Such records were taken for granted when new and got rough treatment
from their owners.
“Don’t
Fool with My Heart” appears to have Oscar Moore’s trio format, with an after-hours
sound akin to some of Duke Ellington’s small-group records of the 1940s. Brown’s
voice is expressive but calm, with the welcome addition of a sax; its player
does a welcome call-and-response with Brown’s mesmerizing voice. The reedman’s
conversational tone is an apt match.
This
group does much with little. Brown’s lyrical piano rolls throughout this
ironic, witty song; its flourishes speak to his elegance with the instrument. A
modern jazz-flavored coda gives this song a fine finale. This approach still
has great appeal, and one can hear later vocalists whom Brown’s singing
inspired. Chuck Berry was an obvious admirer of Brown’s style and it’s possible
to imagine his ghost-version of this song as this 1951 side plays.
“Seven
Long Days” was the hit side—it reached #2 on the r&b charts. Penned by
Jessie Mae Robinson, another Texan who penned Brown’s “Black Night,” among many
other fine songs that were recorded by Black and white artists before she
retired from composing in the late 1950s. It was music’s loss, as she penned
some of the bluesiest blues, the funniest novelties and a few all-out rockers.
The
song is a traditional 12-bar blues with a standard melody and simple but haunting
lyrics—ideal material for Brown to assay. The two sides of this single sustain
a late-night mood of loss, longing, and a personal review of life’s ups and
downs. With knowledge of what was soon to come, such an intimate, quiet
recording seems an unlikely hit, but this is where Black music was at on the
eve of the vocal group explosion, followed by rock ‘n’ roll in 1955.
Brown
soon had his final hit for a few years in 1951’s “Hard Times.” After that, he
charted in 1960 (and for several holiday seasons afterwards) with “Please Come
Home for Christmas,” which at last got him onto the mainstream pop charts. It
was an odd success for this once-influential singer of after-hours blues, but
its royalties paid the bills and helped keep Brown’s career afloat. He
prospered as a feted performer at blues festivals and continued to make new
recordings until he passed on in 1999. He remains one of Black music’s key
figures of the post-war years.
Tomorrow: two demos by a beloved rock ‘n’ roll icon which received a welcome issue in the UK. The Kinks liked this 1964 release!




That sax on "Seven Long Days" is so emotive of Brown's blues.
ReplyDeleteYes--I'd love to know who that musician is! I wish I'd bought the EMI Charles Brown CD that came out in the early 1990s. They did a great job with their catalog in that period.
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