TOMMY RIDGLEY, "COME BACK BABY" C/W "WONCHA GONE," HERALD 513 (REL. 2/1958)
New
podcast today! You’ll like it. See separate post.
Tommy
Ridgley made some of the best New Orleans recordings of the 1950s. More of a
rock ‘n’ roller than Fats Domino, his piano-driven sides for Herald Records are
among the most under-appreciated Crescent City material of this era. This is because
Ridgley never achieved a big chart hit. A reliable draw as a live artist, he
lacked something in the magic formula that makes a musical career. It doesn’t
have anything to do with talent. Sometimes it’s who you know, or just being in the
right place at the right time.
In
the 1950s, grift was another factor. Payola ran rampant in the music business.
Influential people’s palms were greased to get Joe Unknown into the public eye.
Some unworthy performers thus became stars, while gifted soloists or groups who
lacked the connections made great records no one heard when new.
This
native New Orleanian had one minor r&b hit with the 1953 instrumental “Jam
Up,” which Atlantic Records released. He’d made a stack of singles—45s and 78s—when
he signed with New York’s Herald label in 1957. We played his Herald debut 45
here years back. Today we’ll dig his third Herald platter—two delightful rock ‘n’
rollers with that great ‘50s NOLA sound.
“Come
Back Baby,” penned by saxman Alvin Tyler, is a bright mover with twangy guitar,
insistent cymbal-work by drummer Earl Palmer and distant brass and woodwinds.
Its zany lyrics name-check Larry Williams’ “Bony Moronie” and The Everly
Brothers’ “Wake Up Little Susie.” Its big-yet-sparse sound is engaging, and the
melody takes some weird intervals that grab one’s attention.
Ridgley
was a big, intimidating-looking guy, but he comes off as a teenager on this
side—a great example of a performer who can find the right persona for the song
he sings. This record offers something different and appealing while it works
inside the bounds of teen rock ‘n’ roll, 1957 model.
>>> Hear it HERE! <<<
“Woncha
Gone” is harder-hitting, and offers a roughneck take on the Fats Domino song.
This intense song of accusation, score-settling and a sayonara rocks like mad
and delivers great energy and drive. This was too scrappy and intense to
captivate the teenage audience who adored Domino’s more laid-back approach. It is
a stellar example of Black rock ‘n’ roll from the Crescent City and, as such, a
treasure.
>>> Hear it HERE! <<<
Ridgley
stayed with Herald into 1959, then signed with hometown imprint Ric Records,
where he made a stellar run of singles into 1963, when the label’s owner passed
on. All of Ric’s artists went into freefall, and Ridgley label-hopped for the
remainder of his career. By dint of longevity, he became a legendary figure in
New Orleans, and cut his first album in 1992—four decades after he’d begun to
record. A fixture at blues festival, this second wind to his career was cut
short by his death in 1999 from lung cancer. Ridgley worked construction to
make ends meet, and exposure to asbestos was the root cause. I hope his family
filed a lawsuit!
Tomorrow:
imagine a smash-up of rockabilly and that bizarro song-poem music. That’s the sound
of Jay Haggard, as delivered on a crazy-rare 1958 single from Daja Records.
Must be heard to be believed!




Wonder what a 'good coupler' is? These are probably not the first of jittery too-short songs where someone said "Ah, heck, just make the second verse same as the first. Those dumb teeners won't know the difference."
ReplyDeleteDeciphering Cashbox, Pt. 1,294! I think that means that both sides sounded good to the reviewer. It does evoke an image of a train yard with boxcars being joined.
DeleteLove these!
ReplyDelete