JOHN D. LOUDERMILK, "THEN YOU CAN TELL ME GOODBYE" C/W "THAT AIN'T ALL," RCA-VICTOR 47-8579 (REL. 5/1965)

A hit song can come out of nowhere; it might also take years to find its audience. Such was the case with John D. Loudermilk’s ballad “Then You Can Tell Me Goodbye.” It’s best-known via the 1967 Top 10 pop hit by white vocal group The Casinos. Though I love the song, I have deep disdain for The Casinos’ version—because it’s one of the most common 45s on the face of this green earth, and in any group of more than 20 records, it’ll be there. I’m sick of the sight of it. Because its label, Fraternity Records, is home to many wild, eccentric rock ‘n’ roll sides, I always have to look and am always disgusted.

We’ve celebrated the work of Loudermilk here before and will continue to do so. Loudermilk wrote this song in 1962, when he was one of Nashville’s most erudite, eccentric and in-demand songwriters. The first artist to record it was Don Cherry, a straight pop vocalist whose country rendition included Loudermilk as guitarist was a Verve Records single that year. His bland version is prized by collectors for reasons unknown. It was covered by Johnny Nash and Johnny Tillotson in ’64, with neither of those versions a hit. Loudermilk did his own rendition a year later which was first issued on today’s single and then on the 1967 LP Suburban Attitudes in Country Verse.

It’s a pleasure to hear a composer sing their own work (unless they’re someone like Joe Meek, who could not carry a tune across a room), and Loudermilk’s voice brings his work to life in a manner no one else ever did. His pleasant, expressive tenor is accompanied by his classical guitar, the Anita Kerr Singers, strings and oodles of Nashville studio atmosphere, makes a familiar song new. Its lyrical wrinkle is clever and it manages a wittiness within its romantic message.

On hearing this rendition, the song’s obvious star quality shines. This side was the B of this single; while its A, which we’ll hear next, got into the country charts, this recording was taken for granted. It was used as filler on the 1967 LP and included because of the success of The Casinos’ single. Perhaps it helped move copies of Suburban Attitudes…

“That Ain’t All” is more typical of Loudermilk’s upbeat, humorous novelties. Narrated by an oblivious goofus, it includes this priceless couplet: “if we’re both a-livin’ in 1995/they will have a pill by then to keep us both alive,” and has a twist ending as many of his funny songs do. It’s a trifle, but a pleasant one, and it was a good fit for the country charts of 1965—a year when that music tried to find its way out of the Nashville Sound and into something more contemporary—while keeping a hold on its traditions.

For extra credit, here’s a fascinating article by about Loudermilk’s connection to Chapel Hill photographer/folklorist Hugh Morton. It has some great photos of the young singer/songwriter.

https://blogs.lib.unc.edu/morton/2009/08/14/john-d-loudermilk-musician/

Tomorrow: Portland folk-rock from Chip & Dave with The Suspects, via a 1965 release on the local Sure-Star label. B-side is a jazz-rock instrumental in the Brubeck vein.