Heinz, "Questions I Can't Answer" c/w "The Beating Of My Heart," Capitol of Canada 72196 (rel. 10/1964)
Robert George Meek was a musical visionary. He also suffered from serious mental disorders. In his day, these obvious signs of unease were written off as the affectations of an eccentric. Though a songwriter and music producer, Meek, who went by the nickname Joe, couldn't read or play music; the recording studio was his skilled instrument. He understood sound recording to a degree that bypassed the polite standards of the day. All that mattered to him was the creation of sounds that no one else could achieve. At his best, he did that on recordings that, half a century later, remain inscrutable. He did his work on reel-to-reel tape recorders--not laptops with digital audio programs. Such tools were science-fiction in his heyday of 1958-1966.
Meek was England's first successful independent producer. He worked in the major London studios as an apprentice; his demeanor and approach weren't well-liked by the rules-following employees of EMI, Pye and other UK companies. By 1959, Meek went out on his own, in an upstairs flat on Holloway Road. Amidst a chaos of tangled wires, heavy musical consoles, microphone stands and assorted instruments, Meek lived and worked there until his death in February 1967.
The man had problems. Mental illness might have been enough; Meek was gay in a period when homosexuality was considered a crime by law. For the era, Meek was as out as a man might choose to be. His queerness was tolerated by the straight musicians who came in and out of his studio flat. Some he fancied and made advances to; because he stood between them and a recording contract, they begged off with a polite excuse and hurried down to the street. A few appear to have engaged with him. Among them was Heinz Burt, the bassist for instrumental group The Tornados, who had a major global hit with 1962's "Telstar." Penned by Meek, who la-la-la'd its melody over an existing track and gave the results to his musical right-hand man Dave Adams to decipher, "Telstar" was the first British instrumental to top American charts and it should have made Joe Meek wealthy.
A French composer sued Meek for plagiarism; he claimed the main strain of "Telstar" came from one of his film scores. Meek had never heard of, nor seen the film, and it was a weak case, but it dragged on for the rest of Meek's life. He never received a cent of royalties for the hit of a career.
Meek fancied Heinz Burt, lavished him with gifts and groomed him for solo pop stardom. Like Meek, Heinz wasn't a vocalist, but his dyed blond hair and earthy good looks did the trick. Heinz' second release, the catchy "Just Like Eddie," an ode to the spirit of American rocker Eddie Cochran, was a big European hit and led to a series of solid singles. His records were released in 19 countries, including one on the Canadian branch of Capitol Records.
Meek was England's first successful independent producer. He worked in the major London studios as an apprentice; his demeanor and approach weren't well-liked by the rules-following employees of EMI, Pye and other UK companies. By 1959, Meek went out on his own, in an upstairs flat on Holloway Road. Amidst a chaos of tangled wires, heavy musical consoles, microphone stands and assorted instruments, Meek lived and worked there until his death in February 1967.
The man had problems. Mental illness might have been enough; Meek was gay in a period when homosexuality was considered a crime by law. For the era, Meek was as out as a man might choose to be. His queerness was tolerated by the straight musicians who came in and out of his studio flat. Some he fancied and made advances to; because he stood between them and a recording contract, they begged off with a polite excuse and hurried down to the street. A few appear to have engaged with him. Among them was Heinz Burt, the bassist for instrumental group The Tornados, who had a major global hit with 1962's "Telstar." Penned by Meek, who la-la-la'd its melody over an existing track and gave the results to his musical right-hand man Dave Adams to decipher, "Telstar" was the first British instrumental to top American charts and it should have made Joe Meek wealthy.
A French composer sued Meek for plagiarism; he claimed the main strain of "Telstar" came from one of his film scores. Meek had never heard of, nor seen the film, and it was a weak case, but it dragged on for the rest of Meek's life. He never received a cent of royalties for the hit of a career.
We look in on that release, which pairs two late sonic wonders from Meek's home-slash-studio. Heinz is backed by future heavy metal icon Ritchie Blackmore and his band The Wild Boys. They'd recorded guitar instrumentals for Meek as The Outlaws, including the early concept album Dream of The West, which rates among Meek's finest achievements as producer and composer. Having revived his American career with a Top 10 smash for beat group The Honeycombs in "Have I the Right," as a result of Beatlemania's sweep over the continent, Meek was able to get more records issued here than in the "Telstar" days.
This late 1964 release shows Meek's take on the beat-group sound. Unusual sounds still obsessed him, and the mix of his sonic tinkering and the standard guitar-group style is a curious and compelling mix.
"Questions I Can't Answer" was penned by R. Victor Blunt and Triune. The latter was a group of women composers--Paula De Pores, Orena D. Fulmer & Ruth Stratchborneo. The latter recorded as Ruth Christie for the US r&b market. This song is a strange brew of garage-rock, pop and the producer's studio experiments. Eerie electronic keyboards loom over the tormented song of uncertainty. A femme chorus (perhaps The Breakways, London's top vocal studio trio), tinkly bar-room piano, thudding, muted drums, a sax out of nowhere and Ritchmore's gnarly guitar create a wild brew that just got into the UK Top 40 in October of 1964.
The single was released in America on Capitol's Tower imprint, and the Cash Box review below reflects that edition. The surviving copy is distorted; sorry about that.
This late 1964 release shows Meek's take on the beat-group sound. Unusual sounds still obsessed him, and the mix of his sonic tinkering and the standard guitar-group style is a curious and compelling mix.
The single was released in America on Capitol's Tower imprint, and the Cash Box review below reflects that edition. The surviving copy is distorted; sorry about that.
"The Beating of My Heart" is a Joe Meek original, and perhaps it expresses his sentiments toward the singer. The same personnel are on this side; that eerie mass of electonic keyboards, thudding compressed drums, Blackmore's saw-toothed guitar solo and an orchestral horn.
The sentiments are naked and honest on a song that has a retro feel; it could have been recorded five years earlier without a change. The arrangement and production make it a thing of cracked, touching wonder. No one else made records like Joe Meek; some folks can't stand them, but I'm a fascinated fan of his work. Like many 20th century music personalities, he was a flawed, troubled human being, but he left behind some compelling and haunting music that deserves to be heard and studied.
Bonus reading: an insightful article from The Independent that examines Meek's final day of life. It's a brutal, tragic story, so approach with caution.
Tomorrow: Gerri Granger delivers a Northern Soul classic and an Otis Blackwell delighter on a rare Bigtop Records single also from 1964.
Heinz definitely was no vocalist as you say but probably looked good on stage and I guess for pop that was enough. "Questions I Can't Answer" borrows heavily from The Kingsman's 1963 hit "Louie Louie" and there's a bit of Buddy Holley's (Or The Beatles') "Words Of Love" guitar there in the middle section. "Beating Of My Heart" is, as the reviewer says, 'a pleasant romancer" and has a "Telstar" spooky sound.
ReplyDeleteTo my ear that second track was very much a precursor to British pop music in the 80's by Duran Duran and the like. Meek was a quite a character.
ReplyDeleteHi Dean! Yes, Meek's music sounds very 80s at times. And he was a bizarre guy. Like Phil Spector, a dark mess as a person but he made records no one else could replicate.
DeleteDo you have or have you heard any of the music from the Tea Chest Tapes?
ReplyDeleteYes to both questions. It's a lot to sift through and they're still digitizing it all...
DeleteHopefully there are some gems in the mass!
Delete