Antoinette, "Jenny Let Him Go" c/w "Please Don't Hurt Me Anymore," London L 9642 [Canadian release; 2/1964]

In the first flush of the UK beat boom, female performers proliferated—always as solo acts. There were a few exceptions like The Mission Belles, Goldie and The Gingerbreads and The Liverbirds—for-real female rock ‘n’ roll bands—but most female music of the beat-group era is in the footsteps of Dusty Springfield. One voice, often multi-tracked and set against a pulsing hard-edged (or ballad-soft) pure-pop arrangement.

Marie Antoinette Daly was just 13 when she made today’s record—her debut disc, with in-demand producer-arranger Charles Blackwell in the control room. Blackwell was a frequent early collaborator with the UK’s most unusual independent producer, Joe Meek, and his arrangements made major pop hits of several Meek productions for various British labels. On his own, he had no end of freelance gigs for a plethora of performers. Like his American counterpart Charles Callelo, he delivered hyper-charged, brightly-colored pop productions that dare you to dislike them.

A decade younger than the average male British beat-music performer, Antoinette had the pizzazz of an older (say, 20-year-old) vocalist and was given two excellent songs penned by Ken Lewis of the Carter-Lewis musical team. Frequent visitors of this site know that name. It’s rare to find solo items by either composer pre-1966, but this sweetened the kitty when I chanced upon a minty copy of this single’s Canadian release at last weekend’s Canby Record Extravaganza.

From the first pounding piano notes of “Jenny Let Him Go” I knew I had a winner. This talent trifecta (Antoinette/Blackwell/Lewis) couldn’t fail to please, and this bouncy precursor to The Beach Boys’ “Help Me Rhonda” is a lost classic of ‘60s UK pop. This plea to said Jenny to let Antoinette’s main crush out of her clutches is girl-group goodness at its finest. The urgent, driving melody is well-framed by arranger Blackwell’s horns, pounding percussion and backup vox by The Breakaways, London’s in-demand studio singers.

This is a perfect pop record: yearning, direct, melodic and haunting. It was a big Canadian hit; Top 5 in the Vancouver, BC area and Top 20 in Montreal and Ottowa. Funny that the US wing of London Records passed on its release. It would’ve been released alongside the first US Rolling Stones 45, “I Wanna Be Your Man,” but US London skipped several catalog numbers in this spot for reasons unknown.

I’m glad to have this Canadian release; the US would’ve been on crap styrene. This is on thick, quality vinyl which captures the full range of sound. Styrene is good with the middle range but poor with highs and lows. You get a “cropped” version of the music on styrene. It was cheap, and so were a lot of record labels in the US.

Another Record Mirror review. How sober they seem!

“Please Don’t Hurt Me Anymore” is more in the Phil Spector style. One can imagine The Ronettes’ version of this dramatic song. It’s another whomping arrangement with one of The Breakaways doing harmony with Antoinette on the chorus. Thudding bass and drums dominate this fast-moving declaration of romantic tolerance and kindness.

Such messages might have seemed trite a year ago; in the shadow of cruelty and grift, such sentiments have a new impact and remind us to be good to one another. Music remains the eternal balm—and reminder—for a torn and troubled world.

Antoinette’s singles are all solid; her next record, the Shangri-las-style “There He Goes (The Boy I Love),” got an American issue on Parkway Records. That release is super-rare though a copy might slip into some clueless seller’s dollar box. That’s what I’m hopin’!

Ms. Daly met jazz musician Kenny Baxter at a 1966 music festival, shortly before she appeared in the late Boris Karloff movie The Sorcerers. The couple were wed in 1967 and Daly was a frequent vocalist on her hubby’s recordings. She passed on in 2016 at a mere 65. She was aware of fan adulation for her 1960s pop work; her records remain favorites of UK girl-pop fans and have appeared on many the CD anthology.

Tomorrow: the powerful debut version of a song that was a big hit for at least three other better-known performers. Poor Dee Dee Warwick: so much talent, so little luck. A much sought-after 1963 Jubilee Records single I picked up for pocket change at this year’s Canby show. Two riveting sides produced by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller. Don’t miss this one!