Georgie Fame & The Blue Flames, "Yeh Yeh" c/w "Preach and Teach," Imperial 66086 (rel. 1/1965)

 

Today’s record is an example of Americans and their infernal bent to “fix” things made by non-Americans. The onset of Beatlemania saw many UK-made recordings—including The Beatles’—“improved” by US record companies. The Phil Spector-level reverb applied to all Beatles records issued up to their album Revolver is appalling, now that the original mixes and productions by George Martin and his audio engineers have become the world standard.

The Capitol Records renditions of Beatles material are the ones millions of Americans know by heart. To hear the original UK mix of “She’s a Woman,” one half of a 1964 single, for the first time shocked me. It sounded so…anemic. That is the way the group wanted it, and had they thought otherwise, producer Martin would’ve laid on the reverb for them.

If groups’ records weren’t willfully altered, they were subject to another made-in-America horror: fake stereo. Some group preferred to record in mono. The Dave Clark 5, for example, didn’t fuss with stereo until the market demanded it. Their US label, Epic (subsidiary of Columbia), issued “electronically rechanneled for stereo” versions of all their LPs. If ever a group didn’t need this treatment! The fake-stereo rendition of their 1966 classic “Try Too Hard” imparts an unwanted rhythm on the song via heavy fake echo.

This horrid phenomenon existed pre-Beatles. Elvis’ early RCA LPs, sourced from mono masters, got a similar treatment and the label had a perverse fascination with doing fake-stereo, excessive-reverb reissues of vintage material. The unsuspecting record buyer might have disliked an artist’s work because of this sham version. To the executives of most record labels, music was a product, like toothpaste or dog food. The only artistic vision these men had was an admiration for the engraving on paper money.

Another old-school tradition was tape editing to shorten or lengthen a performance. Everyone did this and never with good results. In the case of today’s recording, a classic song by mod-jazz guy Georgie Fame, a saxophone break of about 20 seconds’ duration was lopped off. Perhaps the executive didn’t like saxes. It had to have been a personal vendetta, since the instrument is all over 1965 pop music—including other British bands (DC5, for example).

The full version of this track can be seen and heard here via a lip-synch performance on the US TV show Hullaballoo. Brian Epstein is seen for a moment nodding his head to this irresistible track. It can be seen here:

https://youtu.be/2__td7vpkBM

 

The song first appeared as an instrumental by Latin jazz performer Mongo Santamaria that appeared on his group’s fab Watermelon Man LP of 1963. (That version was also edited and overdubbed for its 1963 Battle Records 45 release. Here's the uncut stereo album version:)

https://youtu.be/vWF8UOhLgdk?list=RDvWF8UOhLgdk

Jon Hendricks of vocal jazz group Lambert, Hendricks and Ross, put lyrics to the phrasing of the jazz instrumental and created a timeless piece of hip vocalese. Hendricks, Dave Lambert and Yolanda Bavan (subbing for Annie Ross) recorded this vocal version for the LP Live at Newport ’63, with Coleman Hawkins, the great jazz saxophonist, and trumpeter Clark Terry flying high on a long improvisation. It can be heard here:

https://youtu.be/s018gmdelEY

 

This track caught the ear of Clive Powell, young British jazz cat, who adopted the stage name Georgie Fame and, with his group The Blue Flames, developed a following in London jazz clubs. “Yeh Yeh,” with its dynamite melody and soaring, ecstatic bridge, was an ideal entrée to the pop charts. It topped UK charts in its full form and was issued in many countries. Canada got the full version on their Capitol Records release—pressed on quality vinyl.

The US got the snipped version on Imperial Records’ iffy styrene. There are some vinyl pressings of this single; those always sound much better than the Styrofoam-based, brittle records such as today’s example. On the album that accompanied the single—which just missed the Top 20 in early ’65—the edited “Yeh Yeh” appeared. Most American listeners had no idea of this cruel cut. The song didn’t have the staying power of other oldies of its day, which is a surprise—it’s quite the li’l ear worm!

With chagrin aplenty, here is the American version of “Yeh Yeh—” a recording undeserving of its ignoble fate on these shores.

On the flip is “Preach and Teach,” composed by UK jazz musician John Burch, who was a decade older than the British beat group musicians and a habitué of the London jazz scene. This waltz-time mod mover is perhaps closer to how Fame and his Flames sounded in jazz clubs—minus the oppressive cigarette smoke and claustrophobic atmosphere.

The song was covered by American jazz bands, including that of the psychotic Buddy Rich, whose mental illness, inflicted on his long-suffering band members, is the stuff of dark legend. None of that is present on this confident, free-wheeling number played to perfection by this sharp gang of cool chaps.

LINK FIXED! I have to click on the URL three times to paste it, and that clunky malfeasance makes for the occasional non-working link. Broke no more!

The Yeh Yeh LP is an excellent set of performances. Keep an eye out for its lime-green cover when rifling through your local thrift store’s record bins. It’s a winner!

The full version of “Yeh Yeh” never was issued in America. EMI’s series of excellent UK compilations of three decades ago never got around to Georgie Fame’s early stuff. Our loss!

Tomorrow: modern jazz pianist Lennie Tristano delivers four experimental-style modern jazz pieces via a 1953 Savoy Records EP. Something different for Saturday…