Wendell Smith, "Puddin' Pie" c/w "Tonight's My Night To Cry," United Artists UA 166 (rel. 4/1959)

Wendell. Not a name synonymous with rock 'n' roll. Presented with this 1959 record and unable to test-drive it (the record store's turntable was being hogged by a kid with a high stack of LPs) I took a chance based on the production credits: Lee Hazelwood and Lester Sill. The label design was late 1950s, so this had a fair possibility of being something good.
    This was part of a surprise find at a record store I frequent. It uses the antique mall format, with multiple vendors under one roof. One seller had eight boxes of 45s under their table. No sign saying DO NOT LOOK AT OR PURCHASE. Thus, I took the initiative and went through them all. I had not banked on making a big find this pleasant Saturday afternoon. I was prepared to do a quick stroll through the place, not see anything of interest, and exit disappointed but satisfied that I'd at least checked.

    The seller is an infamous vendor of damaged records, so I pulled out anything that intrigued me, made sure to check them for condition when I was done, and set them aside. I was halfway through the boxes when another collector noticed. "I didn't think we were supposed to look at those," he said.

    "They're sitting in a vendor's stall, with nothing saying they're off limits." (I forgot to mention: this vendor had everything at 50% off.) I'd gone through four of the eight boxes, so I pointed to those and he went digging. He appeared to be after later stuff than I, so he made his own pile. I directed him to a couple of good records I already owned after he mentioned his interests.

    In this dig, a single by Jackie Shane, a female impersonator who made a handful of excellent sides for Sue Records, appeared. Into the pile it went. The boxes were the usual mix: common records I see every time I go through 45s, spiked with unusual and obscure stuff right up my alley. 
    I came up with 50 singles and then vetted my first picks. Ten went back into the boxes due to condition issues; some had chunks missing from the playing surface. This speaks to the seller's lack of regard for seven-inch records. They didn't bother to examine a single one of these singles. Said vendor chunked them into boxes and hauled them into the store. They were priced, but that can be done without looking at the surface of the record.

    The Jackie Shane record had a split that went from edge to edge. I've had luck in piecing such records together to get one play out of them. Alas, the edges of the break were warped; in no way could a stylus navigate the grooves. For 50 cents, I bought it; perhaps it's a talisman of good fortune. Who knows?
    When I got home, it was still early, so I played a few of these new gets. Wendell Smith's single was at the top of the pile. It could be anything; I hoped it'd be something decent.

    Bongo fury burst from the speakers as "Puddin' Pie," an outstanding piece of Black rock 'n' roll with a fantastic sound, arrangement and production. Heavy, frantic Latin percussion brings an instant air of excitement. Twangy guitar and zesty sax join the sonic fray as Wendell Smith's appealing, expressive voice sings an ode to a lover who he thinks is perfect. 
    It's a perfect rock 'n' roll record: rockabilly-adjacent r&b with no attempt to make the proceedings pop-friendly. The Arizona facilities of Lee Hazelwood and Lester Sill specialized in a stark, honest sound that stood out from the big-city labels, where background singers, unapt instruments and an urge to tidy things up and sand down the rough edges took the punch out of vernacular music. "Puddin' Pie" is a raw deal in the best sense; its unvarnished vibe packs a punch and makes this listener giddy with joy that it exists, and that I found a copy. Enjoy!

 

Cash Box unleashed new lingo to praise the joys of "Puddin' Pie;" in 1959 they were still pro-rock 'n' roll. Their attitudes would soon cool.

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/kbye9uhte28bccr0ji8ns/2127a.mp3?rlkey=a56i9yycznnb2dht8ph2ugyvb&st=6q3se4lv&dl=0

I was prepared for the flip-side to be a straight ballad, perhaps with pop touches. That's how such records often fly. But instead of a wall of strings, "Tonight's My Night to Cry" continues the bongo fury in gentler form. There's a vocal chorus but they're mixed lower than normal for this bluesy beat-ballad. It's a spurned lover's lament that uses forces of nature to describe the narrator's internal storm. Somebody whistles for the "instrumental" break--and it's an asset rather than a shipwreck moment. (It isn't Smith; for the song's fade-out, the whistler joins Wendell's heartfelt vocal.)
    This is how ya do an r&b ballad, folks. No strings, no brass, no fancy-pants touches. Let the song and its singer do their thing with just enough support to register. The bongos tone it down but retain an insistent rhythm that gives Smith an anchor for his emotive performance.

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/w3s6e084jrltbjx9w8tpj/2127b.mp3?rlkey=ggo4bb21l3w59411cq3s7fjni&st=6fq3emb2&dl=0

Smith made a follow-up single for UA, so this one must have done just well enough to encourage the label. Neither platter got onto the charts, and that was the end of the road for this talented and distinctive singer and composer.

Tomorrow: Beatley pop-garage from Santa Cruz, California's Tikis on a scarce 1965 Autumn Records single. One side's a solid rocker.