CLEO & THE CRYSTALIERS, "PLEASE BE MY GUY" C/W "DON'T CRY" (CINDY C-3003, REL. 7/1957)

Here’s the essence of the wild, raw sound of teen doo-wop, 1957 model. Cleo and The Crystaliers were a one-record wonder from either the boroughs of New York or Philadelphia—both hotbeds of this adenoidal branch of vocal group music. "The Crystaliers" is a classic misnomer; their sound is anything but clear and crisp. The Murkaphonics or Sludge-Tones would be more fitting. (That's not a dis.)Zero information exists for this group—save one strange moment in their short career. Around the time of the release of today’s record on Cindy, a label co-owned by George Goldner and peppered with Philadelphia-based acts, alternate takes of the two sides showed up on Johnson Records without Cleo’s name.

That record goes for $3K and up; the Cindy release can be had for an affordable price. The Johnson release may have been illegal and thus gotten a cease-and-desist order. Just a guess. The versions on that issue are sloppier and wilder than the Cindy’s two sides. That’s hard to imagine, but it’s true.

“Please Be My Guy” opens with a glorious cacophony of voices, recorded in a sludgy style reminiscent of Zell Sanders’ efforts for her J&S label in the Bronx. Cleo is among the least feminine voices in all of doo-wop. She has some tone problems, but the hearty enthusiasm of her bellow atones for her wayward pitch.

This chonky sound suggests a basement studio; if audio can be grimy, this is that. It chugs along with wild abandon. I find it hard to focus on any lone element of this performance. All the canoodling in the background distracts me from whatever Cleo is singing. Bonus points for a solid sax solo on a performance guaranteed to irritate uptight 1957 parents and teachers.

>>>Hear it HERE!!!<<<

“Don’t Cry” was the A-side, and it has a more “normal” production and sound. The Crystaliers remain too upfront in the mix; they often overpower Cleo, but the vibe is closer to George Goldner’s preferred r&b ballad sound. The J&S feel still hangs over the performance, but it has a tailoring the B-side does not. Cleo’s voice remains in search of the right note, but her passion can’t be faulted. At its best, “Don’t Cry” is a fly-in-amber example of what my friend Bill Humphries has dubbed the porcelain doo-wop sound.

>>>Hear it HERE!!!<<<

The Johnson 45 was reissued in 1976 by Arcade Records, so it is out there for a reasonable sum, for those bold enough to experience it.

Tomorrow: soulful Sunday with one-record-wonder Little Jimmy Brown, via a scarce 1961 Brent Records platter. This one was found in the middle of a box of Pat Boone 45s—my reward for trudging through swill!