CHARLIE RICH, "WHIRLWIND" C/W "PHILADELPHIA BABY," PHILLIPS INTERNATIONAL 3532 (REL. 10/1958)

Though today’s single is the recording debut of classic singer-songwriter-piano stylist Charlie Rich, it wasn’t his first time on records. He entered the world of Sam Phillips and Sun Records as songwriter, pianist and de facto producer for rockabilly Ray Smith, with whom he made three excellent singles in 1958—all which have been played on some iteration of this feature. Rich’s piano is heard in the background of other artists’ Sun releases that year.

Rich, whose background was in jazz and blues, was introduced to Sun by his wife, Margaret Ann (whose name often appears as writer or co-writer on Rich’s material). The family, including some kids, lived in West Memphis, Arkansas, where their father tried his hand at farming, which he did not have the discipline nor instinct to do well. On the weekends, he played jazz piano in Memphis nightspots; that was his lifeline to sanity. Margaret sensed her husband’s frustration and futility and entrusted the children to a babysitter as she took a reel of tape over to Sam Phillips’ office and insisted someone listen.

That someone was Bill Justis, who knew Charlie via his nightclub work and agreed he had the charisma and potential to make it on records. Justis met with Rich and advised him to work up some rock ‘n’ roll material; artists who penned their own work did the best. Charlie may have felt this task beneath him, and his first efforts were best forgotten. But perseverance paid off; Rich soon brought in solid songs, including the four he wrote for Ray Smith and one for Jerry Lee Lewis (the Sun artist he most resembled in his approach—though they’re night and day in many aspects).

By summer, Justis and Phillips agreed Charlie Rich was ready for the big time. On Sunday, August 17^th, with Roland Janes (guitar), Billy Riley (bass)  and James van Eaton (drums), Rich waxed two songs—one written in an attempt to woo Dick Clark, the host of the Philadelphia-based teen music series American Bandstand, to which millions of TV-watching teens were addicted. The other song from this session remains a mystery, credit-wise. “Whirlwind” is attributed to David Kelly, who has no other songwriting or publishing credits.

The vocal chorus was dubbed in later; for once, they add something of worth to a Sun record. “Whirlwind” summons an apt eddy of sound, with Rich’s reverbed voice hearty and commanding, and his piano playing powerful; listen to the insistent boogie-woogie figure he plays with his left hand throughout. Several key changes add to the excitement, and Rich’s piano solo is the first of many fine interludes in his career. This was first-class rockabilly bottled at the source; it deserved to succeed but didn’t.

“Philadelphia Baby” is even better: a killer upbeat rocker featuring two Charlies in overdubbed harmony, a rousing fast pace and more effective work by the vocal chorus. This earthy mover-groover almost succeeded at its task; Rich was booked to appear on Dick Clark’s show, lip-sync his song and chat with the genial host. Then tragedy struck; the day he was scheduled, American Bandstand did not air. A news event pre-empted its slot.

With that cruel twist of fate, Rich’s debut outing was doomed. Sam Phillips had his hands full with Jerry Lee Lewis and Johnny Cash (who was about to leave for Columbia Records) and couldn’t spend more than a moment on his other artists. Tough luck, Charlie; we’ll get ‘em next time.

Charlie was third-time-lucky. His follow-up, “Rebound,” another excellent single, also stiffed. Next was “Lonely Weekends,” a massive pop hit that spawned an LP and proved Charlie Rich’s only significant smash until 1965’s “Mohair Sam” for Smash Records. As with many gifted artists, talent and quality did not parallel public success; Rich would find that in the late 1960s, when he ascended the country charts several times and became a major star.

His work for Sam Phillips and his material for Smash Records remain his peak work, though everything he recorded is of some interest. He was a true stylist and iconoclast and is one of the musicians who made the latter half of the 20^th century better.

Tomorrow: the debut disc by Detroit’s great vocal group The Falcons, via a 1956 Mercury platter that matters.