AL ELIAS, "NOW BABY NOW" C/W "SUGAR BABY," RCA VICTOR 47-7219 (REL. 4/1958)

Albert Sahley Elias had a long, active life and co-wrote a couple of hit songs. Few artifacts of his time as a rock ‘n’ roll performer remain; no reviews of his three singles (save one), no publicity photos, no promotional material. Born in 1929, he was at the right age to be part of the first graduating class of rock ‘n’ roll. RCA-Victor, who already had Elvis but had ambitions to corner the teen music market, signed him in 1957. He made two singles for them—the second which we’ll hear today—and another for a smaller label.

Victor’s business plan allowed for much failure and waste. They recorded unknowns with an anthropologist’s glee, but didn’t promote the results, let the records fail then evicted the newcomers, who were likely worse for the experience. Once 86d, these people didn’t exist to the corporate ‘person’ of RCA-Victor. Their recordings sat hidden in their vaults (if they weren’t scrapped or their recording tape re-used later) and nothing more was thought or said of them.

That is, until record collectors rooted the music out and wanted to know more. Victor’s history of luring newcomers, then trashing them, goes back to the dawn of commercial recording, 130-ish years ago. Theirs was a philosophy rooted in social Darwinism—sink or swim and only the strong survive. They hurt and hindered many people in the process, and they didn’t care. “Cost of doing business,” their execs might have said with a shrug and a shower of ash from their cigar.

The Victor catalog of 1956-1959 is littered with one-shot artists in the vernacular music vein. Fascinating records that raise more questions that can be answered rub shoulders with dreadful one-offs that reflect an overarching contempt. This teen racket wasn’t any good; its audience didn’t have any taste. They saw a market and exploited it with whatever came along.

Some people in the process cared—producers, arrangers and a few stalwart session musicians. We’re fortunate they were in the picture, as they made the recordings of these discards much better than the cynical system that financed them.

Al Elias got into music after he served a hitch in the Air Force. His first songs and recordings date to 1957; he worked as a songwriter into the 1980s and collaborated with Angelo Badalamenti, Sammy Lowe, Jimmy Breedlove and other New York-based cleffers. Because of the era he worked and the styles he favored, some of his songs are Northern Soul favorites. The closest thing to a hit he co-wrote was “And the Heavens Cried,” first recorded by recent Jukebox guest Ronnie Savoy and subject of more cover versions than any other Al Elias material.

Al often used his younger brother Gwynn Elias’ name on his work. This might have been done to give his sibling some income, or as some kind of dodge to avoid certain people taking a slice of the pie. As with all else, we don’t know and can only guess.

Onto today’s record. First item of interest; Al Elias was no vocalist. He has a bit of a tin ear. He wanders away from proper pitch and the right notes often elude him. That said, he sings with fervor, and his second and last RCA-Victor single is one crazy-ass record.

“Now, Baby Now” is...well, it’s different. This minor-keyed new-kinda-mambo slurry of rock ‘n’ roll, exotica and _______________ (fill in the blank) is a bumpy but riveting ride. Al sounds like a shoe salesman who snuck into RCA’s New York studios on his lunch hour and made a record before his ruse was discovered.

The harmonic precision of the backup singers and the oomph of the band, which includes the great sax man King Curtis and every able-bodied percussionist with a Union card, outclasses Al’s homely vocal but he does as much as he can with the little he’s got. (He did co-write the song.) Producer Eddie Heller really loved this dark, sinister sound and he creates a nightmarish pop feeling that is the essence of the late 1950s.

No one mentioned or reviewed this single; it came and went without notice. On hearing this for the first time, I was stunned; how could this have been made? Who signed off on this? Why wasn’t a Nobel Prize delivered to them? For these questions there are no answers—just the song itself.

“Sugar Baby” is a more typical rock ‘n’ roll song…sorta. A psychotic racket comprises its rhythm section, along with the dense harmonies of the background lasses. Al is even less adept at hard rock ‘n’ roll than the moody madness of the A-side…but give him credit for trying his hardest.

The hard-hitting dense drumming and frantic guitar strums make for a wall of sound that threatens to bulldoze the listener. I’m sure teens would have dug the dickens out of this side—had they known it existed. Brace yourself and experience the unknown!

After this single, RCA dumped Elias, and he made the cult favorite “King Kong” for the Payson label in 1958. That record got reviewed and promoted, but Elias’ voice is harder to take on these two sides and they went nowhere. End of a recording career. Elias focused on songwriting and had dozens of songs recorded by everyone from Anthony Newley to soul DJ favorite Ruby Winters.

His brother Gwynn got into the music business and relocated to Miami, Florida. Al followed him late in life and seems to have enjoyed his final years. He passed on in the area in 2015; I’m sure none of his elderly neighbors had any idea he made a handful of crazy records in his youth. I hope he remembered them with a gleam in his eye.

Tomorrow: teen rock ‘n’ roll from late 1956 by Bob Davies & The Rhythm Jesters. Bob can really sing and the band is excellent. A Rama Records surprise.