Billy J. Kramer With The Dakotas, "We're Doing Fine" c/w "Forgive Me," Parlophone [UK] R 5408 (rel. 2/1966)

 

Billy J. Kramer, part of Brian Epstein’s stable of Liverpool talent, was the weakest of the lot when he was most popular. The bashful boy whom other Liverpudlians teased (John Lennon heckled him at a fall 1963 recording session, where his asshattery was captured on EMI recording tape for the ages) was nervous and uncertain in the recording studio. His terror abated after the first year of recordings, and he left behind some pleasant sides and some that…well, if you have the constitution, look up “Tell Me Girl,” a track from his lone UK LP of 1963. Or don’t. It’s best left unheard.

His backing band, The Dakotas, were a tough trio of local hooligans whose tight sound, manipulated by producer George Martin in the Abbey Road studio, translated well onto vinyl. The lot benefited from Martin’s constant experimentation with his major group, The Beatles; the producer previewed some of his tricks-to-be on Kramer’s records, including the first known use of the Mellotron, an early sampling instrument which shows up on Kramer B-sides prior to any Beatle appearances.

By 1965, Kramer (a stage name; his real-life surname is Ashton) had found his voice. He now sang with confidence and spirit. His breakthrough came on his seventh Parlophone single, "Neon City" c/w “I’ll Be Doggone.” The diffidence and terror that marked his prior performances was gone. In their place was a solid male voice with its unique timbre and pronunciations—and a presence.

Alas, Billy’s hit-making days were over after his global smash “Trains and Boats and Planes,” which was a solid and moving performance with just a tad of the former nervous disposition. “Neon City” was a failure, despite its personal triumph for all parties involved. 

For a follow-up, a Chicago soul song debuted by Dee Dee Warwick (her version was played here long ago) coupled with a powerful original by the members of The Dakotas kicked off the new year of 1966. Unheard by most American fans until the 1991 EMI America CD anthology (which contains the Lennon heckling), “We’re Doing Fine” is another home-run for a young man who had to learn on the job and whose growth as a vocalist under pressure remains impressive.

It was naïve for these white Anglo-Saxon males to pretend that their performances could better the Black American originals, whom they worshipped and whose music they helped put into the pop mainstream. That said, Billy summons his inner Elvis. Though a certain softness remains, he understands the importance of pushing himself to the limits.

With uncredited guest-stars The Breakaways (London’s top session singers) in his corner and the excellent work of The Dakotas—their drummer Tony Mansfield is superb—the chunky, aggressive sound spurs Billy to do his best on this moving song, written by Black arranger Horace Ott for Ms. Warwick a year earlier. As with his take on Marvin Gaye’s “I’ll Be Doggone,” Kramer sings this song as if it’s a privilege. Martin’s presence is that of a pleased father who sees his son walking on his own.

EMI sent this single out with a promotional card that contains a good review of the record, perhaps written by Tony Burrows, who penned a lot of EMI liner notes.

“Forgive Me” opens with a sound that could be mistaken for some Seattle grunge band c. 1991. Kramer really sinks his teeth into this powerful original song, and its confessional bluntness comes alive in his hands. Note how the drummer sits out the verses; a clever touch. Its only fault: it’s too short. It really wants another 30 to 45 seconds—a guitar solo, perhaps. It’s an impressive vocal performance by Mr. K.

Producer Martin adds echo to Billy’s voice here and there and doubles it up, as on the A-side. That was a favorite trick of his and one heard quite often on The Beatles’ recordings: John Lennon, who hated the sound of his own voice, felt double-tracking might improve it. 

This single was passed on by Billy’s US label Imperial Records. Bad move; this might have done well here. Billy and The Dakotas had one single left on their EMI contract. They returned to the Chicago soul songbook with “You Make Me Feel Like Someone,” a recent recording by Jerry Butler, coupled with another strong Dakotas original, “Take My Hand,” which really should’ve been the A-side. This single got an American release to no avail.

Billy soldiered on and he’s still with us—one of the last Liverpool lads standing from that glorious moment of global admiration.

Tomorrow: The Fogcutters deliver two folk-rocky originals on a 1965 Liberty single, in the Beau Brummels/Blue Things vein. A cool obscurity!