Johnnie & Jack w/The Tennessee Mountain Boys, "Ashes of Love" c/w "The Hummingbird," RCA-Victor Gold Standard 447-0536 (rel. 1958)

 

Every record label with any kind of catalog had a reissue series on LP and 45-rpm. In a time when you couldn't just dial up any song in the universe, these records were a service to (a) those who wished to reconnect with old favorites and (b) free money from sales of music that had come and gone in the past. One never knows what to expect: labels might add reverb to make an old song sound 'new;' they might bisect a mono recording into a ghastly parody of stereo. 
        RCA-Victor was guilty on both charges in the 1950s and onward, but some of their Gold Standard reissue 45s did the original material a favor. This single couples two 1951 country hits by Johnnie Wright and Jack Anglin, one of postwar country's great vocal harmony duets. Their sound is unlike anything you've heard here in ages. If you don't like them, that's okay; we'll be back to our usual shenanigans tomorrow. That said, Johnnie and Jack are tied at first place with The Louvin Brothers as my favorite post-1945 country duo. I have many of their 45s and the 1992 Bear Family box set of their complete works.
        I first discovered them via two reissue LPs with various artists. One had their heartbreaking, letter-perfect song of regret, "What About You" from 1949; the other their revolutionary Latin-beat 1950 smash "Poison Love." The latter has become a country and pop standard and it affected country music as Hank Williams' classic sides had two years earlier. Lead singer Wright couldn't parse the Latin guitar strum; one of their backup band had to stand in for him in that regard. A flood of Latin-tinged country recordings followed, including several more by this duo. 
        In these two songs I found a sound and feeling that resonated. In the 1980s and '90s, their records were tough to find--most often battered, grey-ish copies loved to death in their former life, now ghosts that, due to damage, sounded a million years old.
      Those Bear Family boxed sets are great, but they take all the effort out of music-hunting. Bam--everything an artist recorded, in chronological order, with out-takes, studio chat, etc. J & J's set includes a large booklet in which Johnnie Wright, still touring with his wife Kitty Wells in 1990, reminisced about every one of the duo's recordings. His stories about how they found the songs, what happened in the recording studios, etc. are charming. We're fortunate that BF's dedicated researchers got this oral history of an important group who were forgotten by the 1970s.
        Today's single, as said, favors its material. Before 1955, RCA-Victor's approach to seven-inch singles was timid. Their engineers feared "going into the red:" the records' mastering was down to a whisper. Their overcompensation seems absurd--and annoying--today. To hear the music on these early 45s, one much crank the gain to 100%, which introduces background hiss and crackle that doesn't need to be there.
    There was one legit agent of their concern: jukeboxes. Those gaudy, crude machines were maintained, but a popular song, if mastered too loud, would wear down quick. Ex-jukebox 45s are easy to spot: one side's grooves are dead grey. When played, the ghost-effect described above is common.
      Jukeboxes were loud, the better to carry sound above the constant clatter and chatter of a bar or roadhouse. The low mastering, boosted by the box's booming speakers, gave singles a longer play-life. The home listener, who seldom played their records at big volume, might have noticed how quiet these singles (and LPs) were. 
      Thus, these two 1951 sides are mastered by 1958 standards: volume and balance are much improved. The recordings were left as-is, too: no reverb added. RCA was keen on additional reverb, so this is a small miracle. Country music fans wanted their music authentic-sounding; to tamper with two classics wasn't proper.
        If you're a Bob Dylan fan, you might know "Ashes of Love," the two-chord up-tempo declaration of a dead love affair. It, like many of Johnnie & Jack's songs, was composed by Jack Anglin's brother Jim. A handsome, tall dark-haired man with pop-idol good looks, Anglin shunned the spotlight, content to pen songs for these guys and for Kitty Wells, who often sings uncredited on her husband's recordings: her voice is as distinctive as his.
        This catchy kiss-off, with clicking claves and the Latin strum of Eddie Hill, who had a long career as vocalist and songwriter in Nashville. Percussion on a country record in 1951 was revolutionary. Drums were taboo before rock 'n' roll entered the scene; it took the dawn of The Nashville Sound, with its borrowed pop-music tropes, to bring drums kicking and screaming into the country universe.
        These elements blend well with the almost-bluegrass sound of Johnnie, Jack and the Boys, who include master steel guitarist "Shot" Jackson and fiddler Paul Warren. With two chords and a repetitive structure, one can see the appeal of this song to Bob Dylan, who sang it often in his live shows of the 2000s.

The Cash Box review of "Ashes of Love," which they ignored in favor of the decent
but less distinctive A-side.

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/6vvcdwmurnpq8ushb742i/2084a.mp3?rlkey=qgwm8w4gcp7bh07saqqa4dwbe&st=ym35zxo8&dl=0


On the flip is an earlier 1951 hit, "The Humming Bird." It's a train song (always a favorite 'round these parts) and it shows some influence of Hawaiian music. Kitty Wells is heard in the vocal chorus--another unheard-of touch for this rootsy music. This is one of many happy train songs in country music. Its narrator is headin' home to his girl and the places he knows best.
        The fast tempos J&J favored made them stand out in an era when much country music took a funeral-service pace (or got muddled in waltzes). Giants such as Hank Williams and Lefty Frizzell weren't immune to the super-slow material; J & J did ballads, but never too slow. They can be seen as part of the musical chain that beget rock 'n' roll, which some of their 1954 and '55 recordings quite anticipate; more about that in a moment.

Again, Cash Box buries the eventual hit side; notice how polite and un-slangy
these 1951 reviews come across.

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/sdq4svtqsdnmejp3er0mb/2084b.mp3?rlkey=n2wdx7dvdecqn0v1uhex22a7b&st=iesqjor9&dl=0

In 1954, Johnnie & Jack did some of the first country covers of r&b vocal group songs. They had hits with Nashville versions of The Four Knights' "Oh Baby Mine (I Get So Lonely)" and The Moonglows' "Sincerely," which got the #1 spot in all three markets, with The McGuire Sisters' pop version heard all over the world. It was a financial boon for songwriter Harvey Fuqua (in the roster of Jukebox heroes), and its use of the basic tools of Black vocal group music is a fascinating, not-quite-there predictor of rock 'n' roll. 
        Later, the duo made other forays into youth music, with the 1958 bopper "Camel Walk Stroll" and 1961's unforgettable "Uncle John's Bongos." They ceased to be in 1963, when Jack Anglin died in a car accident on his way to attend Patsy Cline's funeral. Wright went solo and was a country hitmaker into the 1970s. He performed with Ms. Wells on the road, The Grand Ole Opry and any other venue where country music was welcome. They played their farewell concert on New Year's Eve 2000; Wright passed on in 2011.

Tomorrow: Johnny Fuller returns with a delightful 1958 Checker Records single. Two catchy-as-the-dickens songs for your Thursday!





Comments

  1. Do you have any idea why/how Latin flavor invaded bluegrass. Some cultural shift in the early '50s? Maybe "Ashes Of Love" might have been a better song done straight bluegrass/country? Among others, Levon Helm and the Desert Rose Band both covered this song— Helm's version is definitely bluegrass and the Desert Rose Band is a more twangy country electric sound. Love Johnnie and Jack's matching outfits! Remember when those fab Liverpuddlians wore the same gray scoop-necked lapel-less jackets? Remember when Paul Revere and the Raiders wore those ruffled white blouse and tri-cornered hats?

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    Replies
    1. I think it was a reaction to the popularity of Latin music during WWII. We did a lot to boost South America, as democratic allies, and Latin music was huge on the pop charts. Black musicians, including modern jazz composers, took to Latin rhythms.
      Canadian country artist Hank Snow had country hits with explicity Latin-themed songs such as "The Rhumba Boogie," "Spanish Fireball" and "Cuba Rhumba." His earliest song in this vein, "My Filipino Rose" came out a year before "Poison Love."
      Before than, Southwestern themes were a part of the Western part of country and western." See Louise Massey's 1930s hit "My Adobe Hacienda" for a strong example. Part of it was the 20th-century trend of exoticizing other cultures ("South Pacific," anyone?) and part was an embrace of other cultures that blended these outside touches into the mainstream of American music. It is a fine example of the melting-pot sentiments that America was once about, before wanna-be Nazis seized power of our government. (May they all get rectal cancer!)
      I like these Latin-flavored country and rhythm and blues recordings. It added something new to both musical styles,

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