THE TOWNSMEN, "PLEASE DON'T SAY GOODBYE" C/W "GOTTA GET MOVING," COLUMBIA 4-43207 (REL. 1/1965)

Of today’s record—another one-off from the frantic year of 1965—I know less than nothing. I don’t know if this group is Black or white. I lean towards the latter, but in this era of music the lines are blurred. Despite a glowing review in Cash Box and an elaborate announcement ad in an issue of Music Business, no details of who this group was, where they came from, etc. was mentioned.

This was a New York group, and this single was produced in New York by music industry legend Artie Ripp. Ripp’s name is on scores of great NYC singles of the ‘60s, including a bunch of #1 hits by a variety of artists and groups. His name is a promising sign on an otherwise-unknown disc, and it was enough for me to take a gamble on this dollar-bin find.

Whomever this group was, they were coattail-riders of some talent.

Their first single, issued on Herald Records in 1963, reflects the then-current sounds of The Drifters, Four Seasons, et al. It’s the same group; member Bozie McKinney co-wrote that single’s B-side, “Just a Little Bit” and both songs on the Columbia 45. The Herald single also blurs the lines of Black and white music; my final verdict is that they’re Caucasian, but with tremendous admiration and influence from Black r&b and soul.

With a new lead vocalist, they tried a fresh start two years later with Columbia Records. That label, in one of its occasional fits of excitement, grabbed up unknown singers and groups, tried them out for a single or two without any promotion and then tossed them aside. This must have been frustrating and traumatic for most of these performers; so much focus and intent that came to a dead end. The lure of possible success is forever powerful and seductive.

The A-side of this record attempts a Gothic ballad on the order of The Moody Blues’ 1965 recordings; The B is a stab at the Chicago sound of The Impressions. Both are group originals and feature the lead voice of Ernest Stephens. No other credits exist for this singer (or group), and their anonymous name, used by many other combos, further muddies the water.

Thus, onto the record. With its forebording piano opening, coupled with sinister strings and ghostly background vox, “Please Don’t Say Goodbye” is a musical melodrama. Stephens does a dead ringer for Denny Laine’s impassioned style, as heard on Moody Blues records like “Go Now” and “From the Bottom of My Heart.” This could be a Black voice; it might also be a passionate white devotee of soul music.

This wall-of-sound production checks all the boxes and rings all the bells. There were so many records of similar sound and emotion in the ’65 market that the sink-or-swim attitude of most labels caused 90% of new releases to take on water and drown. This record didn’t have a chance, despite all the TLC of its conception and production, and was just another new record amidst a sea. Its Canadian release spoke to a perception by Columbia Records (terrible publicists of new artists) that it had crossover potential. No one acted on this premonition; no publicity photos of the group nor biographical info seem to exist. Thanks to a Library of Congress song copyright listing, we know the other composers were William Moore, Robert Stewart and Bozie McKinney.

Cash Box made this a Pick of the Week on January 30, 1965.

“Gotta Get Movin’” is one of a handful of white interpretations of Chicago soul styles. This is a solid approximation of the Windy City sound, with an earthy vocal approach heard on many a British group’s covers of US soul material (Colin Blunstone of The Zombies, John Lennon, Paul Jones of Manfred Mann, et al).

These guys have studied the harmonies of The Impressions and they get it; in the aftermath of The Beatles’ big year of 1964, they’re right on target in their homegrown appreciation of Black musical culture. It’s sincere and it works; records like this that fell through the deepest cracks often hold such surprises. Some might fuss about cultural appropriation, but songs such as this show respect and admiration for its influences. More canonical performers get a free pass for doing such things; let’s allow the same for unknown artists and groups.

This was it for The Townsmen, far as I know. A playlist of Columbia’s one-record wonders could be made from their 1965 singles; there are some compelling performances from artists never heard from again.

Tomorrow: Donna Loren is back with one of my Top 10 favorite girl-group items, via a 1963 Challenge Records 45. Don’t miss tomorrow’s post, folks!