Mac Curtis, "That Ain't Nothin' But Right" c/w "Don't You Love Me," King 45-4995 (rel. 12/1956)

 

1956 was a bull year for rockabilly. Led by Elvis-mania, this blend of country and r&b, often with jet-fueled, Chet (Atkins)-inspired guitars and reverb aplenty infused new life into a pop music scene in dire need of change. At the end of rockabilly's first full year on the marketplace, the old guard still filled up the pop Top 10. A cold war began in Musicland: your Frank Sinatras, Frankie Laines, Ed Ameses and Four Lads remained a lifeline for those who preferred their pop music remain unchanged, flaccid and respectable vs. your Elvises, Chuck Berrys, Carl Perkinses and Eddie Cochrans, who tore up the existing contract between performer and audience.
    Gone were the string sections, orchestral flourishes and grand vocal choruses. Rockabilly stripped vernacular music to its essence; these are skeletal records with much meat on their bones. No extra cargo. Seven decades later, these recordings still connect with listeners. We relate to their direct and vibrant sound and their spartan style is refreshing.
    By the end of 1957, rockabilly began its decline--fueled by the major record labels, who had their arrangers and producers soften its codex to include those big-city touches that brutalized its sparse approach. In came vocal choruses, unapt instruments and grating "cute" arrangements that were intended to make this caveman music more palatable to the (non-teenage) mainstream. Zero favors were achieved; it kicked the music in its collective crotch and left it whimpering and docile.
    None of this gloomy forecast was in sight when Memphian Mac Curtis, one of the best rockabilly vocalists not to record for Sun Records, signed, alongside his friend Charlie Feathers (who did make some sides for Sun), with King Records, an Ohio label eager to make inroads outside the r&b and country markets (both ghettos on the edge of 'civilized' society). King issued some of the best non-Memphis rockabilly a body could want. 
    Curtis recorded his stuff in Dallas, Texas at the Jim Beck studios, where an authentic, gritty and powerful rockabilly sound was perfected west of Sam Phillips' turf. Today we'll hear Mac's fourth King single, the follow-up to his near-charter "The Low Road" (which was played a couple of years back on the old fascist website). On a session held on July 9, 1956, the four sides of both singles were taped. This is the ideal rockabilly sound: atmospheric, hard-edged yet loose. Lead guitarist Billy Hudson and pianist Bill Simmons provide the spot-on instrumental breaks; Curtis' voice has just the right dose of reverb and primitive-sounding drums pound a swampy beat.
    "That Ain't Nothin' But Right" is a rockabilly anthem penned by Jim Shell and Joe Price, Texas boys who dabbled in this new-fangled cat music. Curtis sings as a workin' guy who likes to do it up right when he gets his pay (like Little Richard in his song "Rip It Up"). Curtis' easy-going approach gets just the right note of menace in this beguiling bopper decorated with fine soloing by his band. This melodic mover hits all the sweet spots and goes back for seconds. While not a chart hit, it's considered a core classic of this musical style in its year of ascendance.

Despite a sustained note of condescension, Cash Box notes the potency of this single; had it not been issued on Christmas week 1956 it could have charted.
Bad timing: enemy of good records.

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/r70kf7t1vol6bctkqn82y/2173a.mp3?rlkey=ei53oprqqecuuslu9zp7vy7x7&st=sct6zyfq&dl=0

"Don't You Love Me" is Curtis' own work. It might be better than the superb flip. There's a touch of Elvis in this mix of "Heartbreak Hotel" and tougher sounds written for EP by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller.
    Bill Hudson gets two solos in on this "torried self-penned driver" that I do hope had the teenagers hopping. (I imagine a field full of them, as in a Planet Earth episode, shot from above as they hop, hop, hop while a narrator explains this phenomenon from the safe distance of the BBC studios.) Srsly, this may be the under-rated side here; both are so good it's hard to deem one better than the other. This was a lot of great roots music for 79 cents (I paid a bit more for my copy, but that's to be expected.)

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/epvm0ruw7mrq5hxorommk/2173b.mp3?rlkey=8rr2sfxorn5obzqe45nd1bu45&st=ya60bmt1&dl=0

I hope to acquire more of Mac Curtis' King Records singles. They can be pricey, but bargains do happen thanks to young sellers who deem all "old" records as things to get rid of rather than to slap with a big price tag. (No slapping, please, young vendors; a love tap will do just fine.)

Tomorrow: Sun Records alumnus Billy "The Kid" Emerson returns with an excellent 1957 blueser for Chicago's Vee-Jay Records. From a battered but playable ol' 45!