Johnny Winter, "Road Runner" c/w "The Guy You Left Behind," Todd 45-1084 (rel. 4/1963)

 

Released the same month and year as myself, today's record went against the grain of tidy, controlled, precise pop music as a record of April 1963 could be. It was a harbinger of the return of rock 'n' roll which would begin in February 9th, 1964 with The Beatles' first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show.

Rock 'n' roll never died, as the history books might tell you. It went undercover, and still had a large fanbase. These records almost never charted or got into the mainstream. They were outliers made by and for other outliers, who were grateful they could still get their fix but chose to keep it on the downlow. They didn't want the Bobby Vees and Sandra Dees of the music world to get any foolish ideas.

When this record was released, The Beatles were about to issue their third single, "From Me To You." Though the tamest of the group's early 45s, its chart-topping success sealed the deal on the group's dominance of the European pop charts. Their fame inspired countless teens to try their hand at rock 'n' roll. Through the year, unknown band after unknown band made a single or two, often without success, as UK record labels tried to make lightning strike on command.  

By the time The Beatles flew to New York, the UK music scene was awash in beat groups--some more pop than others, but all formed with the intent to keep rock 'n' roll alive and well. None of these performers could hope to make a record as potent and intense as Johnny Winter's take on the venerable Bo Diddley classic "Road Runner."

I must amend that claim. Manchester's Wayne Fontana and The Mindbenders' debut single, issued in Britain that June, had a crazed rendition of "Road Runner" as its B-side. It compares well with Winter's take, though the laboratory vibe of UK recording studios couldn't complete with the Texas facility where Winter waxed today's two sides. The Rolling Stones came to realize that America was where it was at, recording-wise, and abandoned UK studios as soon as possible. Those not blessed with that group's fortunes made do on their home turf and, perhaps inspired by The Beatles' relationship with producer George Martin, tried to get comparable sounds.

Johnny Winter knew nothing about this musical revolution; he grew up steeped in roots music and that was what he played. Though his first instrument was the clarinet, Johnny was guided to the guitar by his father, who approved of his efforts and perhaps sensed this was a way out of sharecropping or agricultural labor--neither suitable for this albino child.

With his more famous brother Edgar, Johnny formed a harmony duo and the two auditioned for TV. Growing up in the Houston metro area gave the brothers an immense exposure to all the best veins of roots music and to a plethora of local recording studios. Johnny formed a band and cut his first single in 1959 for the Dart label, owned by "Pappy" Dailey, who co-founded Starday Records and the "D" label.

Many singles later, Winter hooked with with Ken Ritter (son of movie cowboy/recording artist Tex Ritter). Ken managed the Winter brothers and produced their records. Most were issued on a local imprint, Frolic Records. Among those releases was Johnny's intense version of "Gangster of Love," a song written and  made famous by another Johnny: Johnny 'Guitar' Watson. Just before that release, today's single was issued on the Nashville label Todd. Talk about your sleeper labels! I'll pick up anything on Todd that isn't Joe Henderson (altho' I'm a Henderson fan and would pick those up anyway). There are many one-off releases from regional studios and a surprising cast of characters pops up on Todd.

I try to imagine the unsuspecting program director of a Top 40 radio station. A promotional package of new singles comes in the mail. The secretary opens it, vets it and brings it into the PD's office. He might have a portable turntable to preview unheard singles. He looks at the record, chuckles at the song title and thinks: this could be a cute novelty. I'll bet the kids would go for this. He lowers the tonearm on "Road Runner."

Twenty seconds later, a sudden silence occurs. The program director has had the life shocked out of him. I thought they'd done away with filth like this, he thinks. He glances at the clock. It's too early for a drink, but he could use one. What was the world coming to? 

One must admit  "Road Runner" has a memorable opening. Winters'  threatening, full-throated roar, followed by...a trombone? That long, rolling growl, absurd and off-putting, seems to mock all the tidy propriety of the average American pop single of 1963. It then hits a high-speed tempo, as Winter wails the Bo Diddley classic with wild abandon. The rhythm is ska-adjacent, kinda-sorta, and the thing is off to the races at 150 mph. And it's over before you know it.

No way in the world would any mainstream radio station play this single in the spring of 1963. A year later, if recorded by a British group, they might. This was a perhaps unwelcome reminder that the wild underworld of rock 'n' roll--a beast they thought they'd slain--was alive, well, and ready for a second round, whether they liked it or not.

Miss Perkins, hold my calls for a while. I'm not feeling well...

Cash Box can be pretty hip sometimes, as here. They seem to get it.

On the flip is a surprise. "The Guy You Left Behind" is a stone-cold take-off on the Minit Records sound, and on Ernie K-Doe's recordings in particular. In an interview, Winter confessed: "There’s a real distinctive New Orleans, Louisiana thing, and that’s what ‘The Guy You Left Behind’ was...it was a stone New Orleans-type song.”

On its own merits, it's quite good. The pianist doesn't attempt to imitate Allen Toussaint's style, but theirs is the guiding beat for this catchy account of a guy who's baffled as to why his sweetie's exes all ran screaming from her at  the end of their affairs. He's a trifle concerned, and I think you'll share his worry as the song unreels.

Winter had a horn section in his band, and they had heard the same records and knew the NOLA sound; loose ensemble playing. On the fade-out, Johnny does Ernie K-Doe's trademark guttural ah-ah-ah thing. As an admirer of Minit Records, it fascinated me to see a tribute record to its sound from when the label was still active, and it convinces me Johnny W. had good taste in contemporary music.

If you feel like a deep dive, I direct you to this website:

https://vinyl-records.nl/johnny-winter/biography/johnny-winter-1960-1968.html#1959-1964

Herein is a long account of the early days of Johnny Winters' life and musical career, and a colorful story it is.  And don't forget there's a new episode of the biweekly podcast for ya: 

https://franksjookbox.blogspot.com/2025/11/a-burning-question-guaranteed-to-set-yo.html

Enjoy! Me, I'm heading back to bed. It's been a trying week; I've been suffering from exposure to toxic metal fumes. I think the worst is over, but my body implores me to remain horizontal and I shall heed its call.

Tomorrow: Harpist/composer/bandleader Robert Maxwell returns with a recording adopted by TV comedian Ernie Kovacs plus a captivating Raymond Scott-style item, via a 1957 M-G-M Records 45. Uneasy listening for your wild weekend!