The Miller Sisters (Long Island), "Silly Girl" c/w "Baby Your Baby," Roulette R-4491 (rel. 5/1963)
These five siblings were the daughters of William Miller, who worked for New York label Hull Records as an A&R (artists and repertoire) executive. He dabbled in songwriting, which also included the addition of his name to others' songs, including the all-time make-out hit "A Thousand Miles Away" by doo-woppers The Heartbeats. This much-covered song made Millier some solid coin. He collaborated with r&b/pop cleffer Billy Dawn Smith on a few songs.
To his credit, his daughters only made two of their many singles for Hull. They otherwise drifted from label to label, with a respite for their own Miller imprint. By the time today's single came to pass, the sisters had recorded for 10 different companies--always with outstanding results. They never got a big hit for all their trouble, but they achieved the admirable feat of a polished sound that isn't bland.
Their common surname gets them mixed up with many other Miller Sisters, including the duet who recorded for Sun Records. Enter "Miller Sisters" into eBay's search engine and you'll be swimming in them.
Today's single is their lone outing for Roulette Records, the mobbiest li'l label in all of recordland. Owner Morris Levy affixed his name as composer to the A-side, as was his wont. With the Cosa Nostra on speed-dial, Levy was one guy you didn't want to say "no" to. And if he took a shine to you--hoo boy! Read Tommy James' memoir for some disturbing-slash-hilarious examples.
"Silly Girl" was written by Virginia Fitting and not Morris Levy, though his co-writer credit might lead you to believe otherwise. It's a solid Nashville-meets-New Orleans ballad with polished, dense vocal harmonies and a gritty guitar that offsets the string section on this moody item with a late-night sound. The lead sister's voice brings some bluesy feeling to a song that could be rendered too smooth for comfort. They're well-rehearsed but not slick, and the sound is fine.
To his credit, his daughters only made two of their many singles for Hull. They otherwise drifted from label to label, with a respite for their own Miller imprint. By the time today's single came to pass, the sisters had recorded for 10 different companies--always with outstanding results. They never got a big hit for all their trouble, but they achieved the admirable feat of a polished sound that isn't bland.
Their common surname gets them mixed up with many other Miller Sisters, including the duet who recorded for Sun Records. Enter "Miller Sisters" into eBay's search engine and you'll be swimming in them.
Today's single is their lone outing for Roulette Records, the mobbiest li'l label in all of recordland. Owner Morris Levy affixed his name as composer to the A-side, as was his wont. With the Cosa Nostra on speed-dial, Levy was one guy you didn't want to say "no" to. And if he took a shine to you--hoo boy! Read Tommy James' memoir for some disturbing-slash-hilarious examples.
"Silly Girl" was written by Virginia Fitting and not Morris Levy, though his co-writer credit might lead you to believe otherwise. It's a solid Nashville-meets-New Orleans ballad with polished, dense vocal harmonies and a gritty guitar that offsets the string section on this moody item with a late-night sound. The lead sister's voice brings some bluesy feeling to a song that could be rendered too smooth for comfort. They're well-rehearsed but not slick, and the sound is fine.
The record got zero coverage in the music magazines of the day, who seemed leery of any comment on Levy's product, for fear they might find a horse's head under the comforter on their bed.
"Baby Your Baby," by Harvey Fisher, is an uptempo Shirelles-type song that instructs young women to dote over their menfolk. A quaint artifact of 20th-century mancentric social behavior, it's charming despite its measured dose of cringe. The sisters show a flair for the lighter touch and their voices blend to fine effect. This had pop-radio potential; the looming presence of Morris Levy might have shied DJs away from playing Roulette singles. Some became hits, despite Levy, who then reaped the majority of income and had a creative accountant who was left to explain to the artists, with a smile: "Sorry, you've been screwed."
The Miller Sisters continued to record into 1970; their final single, as Maxine and The Miller Sisters, is an excellent Motown-esque item you can hear HERE. Maxine continued as a solo act. Why weren't these sisters superstars? They had the talent and showpersonship. Thus spins the fickle wheel of fate.
Tomorrow: some singles have one great side and one 'meh'. We'll hear the superior halves of 45s by rockabillies Ray Smith and Dorsey Burnette. Ray delivers a popcorn classic; Dorsey harks back to his '50s rockabilly roots.
I read that Tommy James book and yeah, between that and the Bert Berns bio Levy didn't come away smelling very rosy. What a slime ball. It was fun to hear these two tracks for the first time--thanks, Frank! Nicely recorded and played and wow those velvety sibling harmonies. I find the lead vocal approach on the first track kind of over the top and jarring but enjoyed the funny mix of country and other forms in the song arrangement. The second track reminds me a little of the Dixie Cups.
ReplyDeleteAlways a pleasure to hear well-written well-performed songs. These two fit the bill. Going by that extra credit song from Maxine and the Miller Sisters, I'd say it's Maxine on the front mic in the beautiful slow waltz "Silly Girl", This would have been a hit for Patsy Cline if she hadn't died in a plane crash earlier that year.. It's a shame about Levy's connection with Roulette. These are two hits in my book. Glad you are now caretakers of these 45s.
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