LITTLE JIMMY BROWN, "I DIDN'T KNOW" C/W "TELL IT LIKE IT IS," BRENT 7022 (REL. 7/1960)
Little
Jimmy Brown. This must, I thought, be a conscious reference to the 1959
country/pop hit “The Three Bells,” recorded by sibling trio The Browns for
RCA-Victor. That record sold in the millions and became a pop standard. Thus, a
Black artist with the name of the main character in “The Three Bells…” sure!
Why not? You gotta get a gimmick to succeed, many aspiring performers were told
by their managers/relatives/any kibitzer on the scene. Thus, the name of a
character in an Anglicized version of a French chanson made famous by Nashville
performers became the stage name of whomever this performer was. This was his
only record, and it came and went quick.
Nothing
exists on this person. Aside from a Cash
Box review and surviving copies of the 45-rpm disc, Little Jimmy Brown has
no presence in history. He is a solid, passionate vocalist who was given a pair
of good songs by Manhattan-based composers that are well-recorded with sympathetic
arrangements and superb sound quality…all this to be just another flop single
that was forgotten a week after its release.
“I
Didn’t Know,” co-penned by soul veteran J. J. Jackson and Herbert Richardson
(his only published work) is a hearty, atmospheric mid-tempo mover with shades
of Dee Clark and Sam Cooke. A male soul chorus shoo-wops behind Brown; the studio band features a synchronized
solo bit with guitar and sax (I think the guitarist is Billy Mure, another
stalwart of NYC sessions) as Brown assays this wonderstruck account of a guy
whom love has snuck up on and tagged “you’re it!”
It’s
a mucho appealing song and performance that couldn’t complete with so many records
of the same vibe that crowded the marketplace in fierce competition. In other
words: the same ol’ story all over again!
“Tell
it Like it Is” comes from the pens of Leroy Kirkland and Pearl Woods. They also
wrote “Something Got a Hold of Me,” which Etta James made into an all-time soul
classic via her 1962 Argo Records version. This is the obvious A-side; it has that
slight edge, arrangement-wise. Brown’s vocal stand is compelling on this
memorable song with an ideal example of the big, moody sound of New York
proto-soul r&b.
It’s
all the better for no overt vocal chorus. Other voices are there but rendered
near-subliminal in the mix. The suggestion of a chorus works better than in-yo’-face
singers who often overwhelm the lead vocal. This
is how this-type record is done. It’s a pity no one ever heard it when it was
new.
And this was it for Little Jimmy Brown. He might still be with us, but time and a stage name have hidden him away from history.
The book has sold fewer than 10 copies so far. I guarantee you that if you enjoy these posts, you'll be delighted with the book, which includes an online playlist so you can hear every recording discussed within its 340 pages. I know this is a niche market--that's true for everything I do. But this book gives you a shadow history of all the great music, done with so much hope and good faith, that never got heard due to industry politics, media indifference or from being released on a week when 10 classics all hit the stores at once.
Your musical library is incomplete without this book. Lotsa info, lotsa pix and lotsa music! You can buy a copy HERE or drop me a message and I can get you a copy.
Tomorrow: exciting teen rock ‘n’ roll from Arizona, via Barry Lane and his band, via a 1960 single on the regional Ra-Q label. Rare and raucous!





'...pervasive teen portion' indeed. ' Again, these are two well-written well-sung songs that should have been hits. Sad sad sad.
ReplyDeleteYes, it gets monotonous here, with the same old depressing scenario playing out over and over. But the music remains beautiful and convincing, and at least we can appreciate it now. Never too late to give these records some love and attention! Thank you for being part of this ; I always look forward to your comments.
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