Ketty Lester, "You Can't Lie To A Liar" c/w "River of Salt," Era 3088 (rel. 9/1962)

 

Oh, the epic hassle I’ve been through this morning! As the Windows 11 operating system gets worse, due to overloaded apps, it’s an uphill battle to get what I consider simple tasks achieved. From Word’s refusal to respond or open to the 24 times I had to try to upload today’s two graphic images, I’ve been at this task for almost two hours. Only now can I write this post!

The golden age of computing is long gone. We’re left with the enshittified ashes and rubble of what was once an easy, smooth experience. Computers fill me with loathing, but one can’t not use them in the 21^st century. Why developers devote themselves to baroque, top-heavy programs designed to fail is a mystery to me. But I’ve triumphed over enshittification for the moment and now I can share a wonderful record with you.

Enigmatic r&b diva Ketty Lester had a major hit with the bajillion-selling “Love Letters” for Era Records. Hand me a box of 50 random 45s and a copy of “Love Letters” will be among those records. There are copies of this classic recording anywhere you look. None of Ms. Lester’s other records ever appear. I buy them whenever I see them, but most of them have proven to be mediocre affairs—bland, over-polished ballads and smooth supper-club soul.

There’s an exception to every rule, and today’s platter is that. It took a hack songwriter (Paul Hampton) and a brilliant arrangement (by unknown). Produced by Ed Cobb and Lincoln Mayorga, “You Can’t Lie to a Liar” weds hoedown fiddles to the rhythm and blues format. A chugging harmonica joins in for a genuine barn-dance sound as Ms. L belts out a snap-of-the-fingers dismissal of a shifty sweetheart. You see, Ketty’s pulled all the tricks in the book and she knows ‘em all.

Lester’s performance is fiery, defiant and sassy. I wish she’d evoked this spirit on more of her recordings. She was signed by RCA-Victor (the seal of doom) in 1964; that’s when the vanilla pop-MOR stuff takes over. I suspect her other Era singles many have some of the vibe of this perfect recording—if I can ever find them. I chanced upon today’s single among a batch of unplayed and stellar r&b/soul 45s that range from 1954 to ’67. It is a thrilling moment to play a vintage record for its first spin around the turntable. This thing is beautiful and required little effort to clean up. This is the highlight of Ketty Lester’s career alongside “Love Letters” (which was immortalized in David Lynch’s game-changing 1986 film Blue Velvet).

Most listeners in the 1960s knew this song via its cover version by Liverpool band The Searchers, who couldn't replicate the sawing fiddles on their rendition. Though an album track in the UK, it was paired with a spectacular group original "Don't You Know Why" for a US single on Kapp Records. Again, their version, though heartfelt, can't hold a cell-phone flashlight to Ketty's hoedown putdown.

Cash Box makes with their zesty adjectives, as one always hopes will happen.

“River of Salt” is a compelling beat-ballad with enough grit to bring it home with impact. I love the bass—an acoustic upright model close-miked with great resonance. The countryfied piano of “Love Letters” recurs, and Ms. L sings this resigned note of heartbreak with impressive control. She seems to rein in her emotions and, by doing so, amplify them with quiet intensity. The strings; we could do without ‘em, but they don’t damage the song or performance, so they’re not a bother. Lester’s voice is compelling, as on “Love Letters,” and again suggests her other Era singles might be worth the hunt.

And that’s all I got. I’d better file this one before Windows acts up again. Perhaps tomorrow’s post will take less time. We shall see…

Tomorrow: songwriter Elroy “Shadow” Peace delivers two scorching Black rockers via a 1959 Keen Records rarity. Found in Oregon City the day I discovered this record’s existence!