
It’s already our 5th week on what’s proved to be one of the most popular features of this blog–Found photos from the collection of my wife, Gillian “The Fang” McCain. This snap shot has the date January 64 printed in the border. What can I say about this one? Boots and hair is what comes to my mind. Is he the leader of the hot, local band with a pair of sister groupies? A budding Charlie Starkweather or Charles Schmidt (“the Pied Piper of Tucson”)? Were the characters in John Waters’ Cry Baby based on these people? They sure look like Drapes to me. What would the guys hair look like in twelve months, after Beatlemania set in (they would arrive a month later and either save or ruin rock’n’roll, depending on your viewpoint)? Would this fellow start combing it forward or stay true to his greaser roots? Do the white socks mark him as a southerner? How about the way the girl on the right holds her cigarette, is she a debutante slumming? So many questions….What do you think?
Uncategorized
Broken Records (and how they got that way…)





Yes, they break if you sit on them, shoot ’em, step on them, run them over. Sometimes 78’s break if you look at ’em the wrong way. Here’s my collection of broken discs and how they got that way.
From the top photo we find Tampa Red- Mercy Mama b/w Drifting (RCA)— fell out of the sleeve and onto the floor—crack! Miss Lee Morse and Her Blue Grass Boys– Everybody Loves My Baby But My Baby Don’t Love No Body But Me b/w Better Shoot Straight With Your Mama (Perfect, colored shellac) held too tight by an idiot I let look through my country 78’s. Rev A. Nix & his Congregation- Black Diamond Express To Hell pt 1 b/w pt 2 (Vocalion) It was fine when I found it, when I got it home it developed a pressure crack– I think it committed suicide.
Blind Lemon Jefferson- Bad Luck Blues b/w Broke and Hungry (Paramount) An old girlfriend — Dr. Sarah Covington, author of The Trial Of Martyrdom: Persecution and Resistance In Sixteenth-Century England (University Of Notre Dame Press, 2003) found a whole pile of Pre-War 78’s up in Connecticut, mostly jazz but a few blues discs where in there. She was bringing two Blind Lemon 78’s back to New York City as a present for me and in Grand Central Station a big fat guy bumped into her, knocking the records out of her hands. Luckily the other disc– Blind Lemon’s Black Snake Moan (Okeh) survived the crash.
Furry Lewis- Mean Ole Bed Bug Blues b/w Why Don’t You Come Home Blues (Vocalion) This one lived under the sink at Bob Quine’s mom’s house for thirty years undisturbed. While bringing it back to New York (as a present for me) it got cracked. Quine couldn’t remember how it happened (he managed to get several dozen other 78’s to NYC for me, all in perfect condition. I called record dealer and collector John Tefteller to ask if there was anyway to fix it and he told me a copy had recently sold for almost four grand, adding “I’d have paid that for it”. And a great record too! Damn….
Third photo from top: Roy Milton- Milton’s Boogie b/w Groovy Blues (Specialty) I dropped it when I was drunk. Swallows- It Feels So Good b/w I’ll Be Waiting (King, DJ promo) I have no idea how this one got broken. Johnny Ace- Yes, Baby b/w Saving My Love For You (Duke) Cracked when flipping through the records, must’ve had a pressure crack in it I never saw.
Lightnin’ Hopkins- Prayin’ Ground Blues b/w Gotta Move Boogie (Sittin’ In With) Destroyed by the movers when I moved from the E. Village to Chelsea, the only record that got broken, and a good one too. Especially the instrumental b-side.
Bottom Photo (45’s): Kip Tyler & the Flips- She’s My Witch b/w Rumble Rock (Ebb) Destroyed when the fill in DJ following my show at WFMU threw his pile of records on top of mine in the record rack. I should have killed the prick. I did manage to replace it, but this copy, bought at the old Tower Records parking lot flea market in Hollywood cost $5, the replacement cost $40.
Kid Thomas- Wolf Pack b/w The Spell (Federal) See last week’s Kid Thomas posting for the story on this one. I’ve since found a 78 but I still need a replacement 45. Eddie Cochran– Jeanie Jeanie Jeanie b/w Pocket Full Of Hearts (Liberty) Another WFMU fuck up, basically the same story as the Kip Tyler record. Still haven’t found another copy (it’s not even rare, I just refuse to pay $30 for it).
Breaks your fucking heart, eh?
Sinatra- Bim Bam Baby


“Rock and roll is the most brutal, ugly, desperate vicious form of expression it has been my misfortune to hear. Rock n’ roll smells phony and false. It is sung, played and written for the most part by cretinous goons, and by means of its almost imbecilic reiteration, and sly, lewd — in plain fact, dirty — lyrics . . . it manages to be the martial music of every sideburned delinquent on the face of the earth.” (Frank Sinatra at 1958 Congressional hearings, New York Times Magazine, 12.1.58, p.19)
Frank Sinatra hated rock’n’roll, as above quote so quaintly illustrates. Of course if you read the quote carefully he is partially right; rock’n’roll was played for the most part by cretinous goons, the lyrics were often sly, lewd and dirty, and of course it was the music of every sideburned delinquent. The only part I think he got wrong was about it smelling phony and false. Rock’n’roll smelled real and real rock’n’roll still smells good. No matter, it didn’t stop him from trying to cash in on Elvis’ fame, hosting a Welcome Back Elvis TV show when Elvis was discharged from the U.S. Army, on which he and Elvis sang a duet where they swapped each others tunes. Later in his career he would duet with Bono and I don’t mean Sonny, but I don’t think Bono really counts as rock’n’roll.
Our subject today however is an item lurking hidden in the Sinatra catalog. An actual attempt by Frankie baby to cut a real rock’n’roll record. That’s right, in the early fifties, when his career was bottoming out and Columbia A&R head Mitch Miller was desperate to revive Sinatra’s fortunes, Miller was forcing all sorts of bad ideas on the poor fellow (the classic example being Mama Will Bark, long sited as the very worst Sinatra disc). Eventually he brow beat Sinatra into attempting to win back the swooning teenage girls by recording some of that crazy big beat the kids were going wild over, hence this peculiar polystyrene platter: Bim Bam Baby! Issued in ’52 it wasn’t so much a rock’n’roll fad disc as an attempt to weld Sinatra onto the sax driven rhythm and blues sound of guys like Roy Brown, Wynonie Harris and Big Joe Turner who were starting to find a market with white teenagers. Lyrically it’s quite a tongue twister (in fact I think the lyrics are genius— “run your flim flam fingers through my greasy hair”! Indeed!). By the final verse you can actually hear Sinatra getting madder and madder as he struggles with the overboard alliteration. Shit, Don & Dewey or Esquerita could have recorded this one.
New Yorkers note, the Strand has tons of copies for around $5.
Kid Thomas



I guess I’m starting to repeat myself in my old age, since I wrote a similar piece to this one in Kicks magazine #3 back around 1981, but since that was a whole generation ago I might as well. If you are unfamiliar with today’s subject– Louis Thomas Watts aka Kid Thomas you have been leading an incomplete life and are in for a real treat. Besides, it’s a great story.
“At that time, I was doing some light work for a minister, and he had a ’49 Buick. I didn’t have a car, so I waited until he was asleep and I told my guitarist to ease the car out,’cause if he woke up, he’d recognize me. So he starts up the car and bangs it into the car behind him, and the one in front. But he finally got it out, and we made it to Wichita. When I got back (to Chicago), the minister asked me what happened to his car. I told him I hadn’t any idea. He told me,’Thats funny,’cause it disappeared the same night you did.”
The band broke up in Wichita but he returned there a month later, this time driving a 1947 DeSoto with his name misspelled on the side– it read Kid Thumass. Our by now be-conked hero had struck up a partnership with Hound Dog Taylor (see January posting for a picture of his six fingered left hand) and together they proved a good draw in Wichita.
By 1956 rock’n’roll had taken the world by storm and Kid Thomas fell under the spell of Little Richard and soon revamped his sound to showcase the influence of Little Richard and other men who wore their hair up high and screamed a lot. This new musical direction didn’t exactly knock ’em dead in the South Side blues clubs in Chicago to which he had returned, so he packed up and headed west, first to Denver and finally landing in Los Angeles in 1958.
In L.A., Kid came to the attention of George Mottola, then head of A&R at the Modern/RPM/Flair family of labels where he recorded such greats as Richard Berry, Jesse Belvin, and the Teen Queens. Mottola had started his own label– Transcontinental and soon Kid Thomas was back in the studio. Boy, was he. His next release, issued in 1959 on the aforementioned Transcontinental– Rockin’ This Joint Tonight (issued with two different b-sides, the blue label first pressings had You Heard What I Said on the flip, the black, red and white second pressing had You Are An Angel, if you want to hear the former, and you do, you’re gonna have to buy the Norton Records 4-song EP). Rockin’ This Joint Tonight is one of the wildest rock’n’roll discs of all time with Kid Thomas blowing his harmonica and shouting out the lyrics in a frantic frenzy. Just listening to it leaves me breathless. He wouldn’t record again for five years, that’s probably how long it took for him to catch his breath.
Kid took a regular gig in L.A.’s South Central neighborhood at a joint called the Cozy Lounge, working under the name of Tommy Louis and the Rythm (sic) Rockers and sometimes as Tommy Louis and the Versatiles. The local Muriel label issued two singles in 1965– The Hurt Is On b/w I Love You So, which got some airplay around the south despite the lack of promotion, and later the same year Wail Baby Wail b/w Lookie There, perhaps his finest achievement in wax. Wail Baby Wail is another full on Little Richard inspired rocker in the same vein as Rockin’ This Joint Tonight, only this one features guitarist Marshall Hooks’ insane soloing which sounds like Ike Turner undergoing electro shock therapy. Sadly, there was little market for such sounds in 1965 and the disc sunk without a trace.
As Tommy Lewis, he made one last record, issued on Cenco in 1969 he would recut (You Are An) Angel b/w Willowbrook, not a bad record, but nothing to wet your shorts over.
Here comes the sad part. Although he kept on gigging (including playing a party at Dean Martin’s house), Kid Thomas was making rent by mowing lawns. In 1970, after finishing a job in Beverly Hills, a young child ran out into the street from between two parked cars and Thomas accidentally ran over the kid, killing him.
Manslaughter charges were filed, then dropped for lack of evidence. A few months later, after appearing in court on a separate charge (driving with a revoked licence), the kid’s father ambushed Kid Thomas in the court house parking lot, killing him with one bullet to the head.
As a tragic postscript to an already sad story, in 1994, at a live Hangover Hop WFMU radio broadcast, I went to take a piss and some jerk decided he might as well take a look through my box of 45’s. When I returned from the head and asked the cretin to put my records down, he dropped the box and my copy of Wolf Pack on Federal landed on the concrete floor at Brownie’s at just the right angle to crack it in two places. I’ve since manged to track down an original 78, but the 45 is rather hard (and expensive) to come by, and now my copy is held together with scotch tape. And people ask why I don’t do the radio show or dj live anymore. So there’s our story, three great records, two dead bodies, and one cracked disc. Life’s funny like that.
Gillian’s Found Photo #4
In this, our fourth installment of our Gillian’s Found Photo feature, we delve into another area of the Fang’s photographic collecting interests– Black G.I.’s (she recently unearthed an amazing scrapbook of Black Panther G.I’s stationed in Korea, hopefully she’ll be posting some of those pics in the future). This soul brother has a message, it’s written right on the back of the pic:
“To Alice a sweet young lady. I don’t look very happy do I. Snooky” (punctuation errors in original).
No, poor Snooky doesn’t look too happy. Hopefully he made it through his tour of Nam. BTW anyone out there with Black Power, Black Panther and/or Black G.I. snapshots to sell can write to the Fang c/o this blog site. What do you think of Snooky? And what of poor sweet Alice, waiting at home?
This Week’s 5 Pack





Something for every sort of personality disorder this week.
Herbie Duncan


Herbie Duncan died recently. I don’t know what killed him or the exact date that he died. Does it matter?
Herbie Duncan cut three 45’s: Hot Lips Baby b/w Little Angel (Mar-Vel, 1958, re-issued and still available from Norton Records), Escape b/w Roll Along (Glenn, 1959) and That’s All b/w End Of The Rainbow (Glenn, 1960).
Hot Lips Baby is one of rock’n’roll’s pinnacle moments. It turns up on dozens of rockabilly compilation LP’s and CD’s, both legal and bootleg*. It’s my favorite type of record, one where you ask yourself, “did this guy really think he was gonna be the next Elvis”? and/or “how the hell did this even get recorded”? It’s discs like Hot Lips Baby that make record collecting worth it; all those hours around fat, smelly guys who still live with their parents, creepy record dealers trying to pass of bootlegs as rarities, hours spent digging through dusty piles of junk (the knees are really feeling it these days). When you find a record like this (and you don’t find ’em like this too often) it’s like winning Lotto, or the Olympics. You know that you haven’t wasted your time (and life) tracking this stuff down.
In 1986, Deke Dickerson (Untamed Youth, Deke Dickerson Combo, etc.), President of the Herbie Duncan Fan Club (yes, such people exist) tracked him down and found him and his wife living in a trailer camp in Olathe, Kansas. Of that visit he wrote:
“I’ll always remember Herbie most from this visit, when he took his old guitar out of the case, sat on his La-Z-Boy chair, and began warbling “Me And Bobby McGee” in his trademark vocal style. His body, his hands, his head, remained almost motionless as the words and music spilled out from his voice and guitar. Strangely, almost inhumanly, the La-Z-Boy chair began violently rocking back and forth, as if it was levitating, though Herbie remained almost motionless. My friends and I looked at this and remarked on it later, and to this day I have no idea how he did that. There was magic–magic that few understood, but undeniable magic–contained in the body and soul of Herbie Duncan“. Magic indeed. Take that Aliester Crowley! By the sounds of this record it’s magic that the band all manage to finish the song at almost the same time. In fact, the guitar, bass player and drummer all end up stopping on different beats.
Screaming Lord Sutch
I’m a sucker for a good novelty. Hence, a minor fascination with that notable British rock’n’roll character Lord David Sutch aka Screaming Lord Sutch, proof positive that, sometimes, in the world of rock’n’roll having no talent is sometimes just not enough. He was certainly a photogenic little bugger though, no? Despite the claim on Wikipedia that he was “3rd Earl Of Harrow”, David Sutch (b. Nov. 10, 1940) was not of royal lineage and in fact grew up in the working class area of Kilburn, North London. He fell in love with rock’n’roll upon hearing Rock Around The Clock in 1956 (he dug Haley because he was the spitting image of his other hero– Winston Churchill). Determined to forge a career in rock’n’roll he made his way to the 2i’s coffee bar in Soho, that incubator of all British pre-Beatles R&R talent (see Vince Taylor posting for more on the 2i’s scene) but was rejected and found a gig at a nearby biker joint called the Cannibal Pot, where he was soon fronting his own outfit– The Raving Savages whose original line up featured future session drummer Carlo Little and pianist Nicky Hopkins. His main calling card was a stage show inspired by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and old horror movies, that saw Sutch jumping out of a coffin, chasing semi-nude women around the stage with a meat cleaver, even doing a re-enactment of Jack The Ripper murders to illustrate the tune of he same name (see video clip above). He brought theatrics to rock’n’roll a good decade before Alice Cooper. In this manner it took a while for audiences to realize he couldn’t sing two bars in the same key. He was soon packing ’em in all over the U.K. and in Hamburg where he was a good draw at the Star Club.
In 1961 he was discovered by Joe Meek who produced Sutch’s first two horror themed singles– Til The Following Night (HMV) and Jack The Ripper (Decca), the group now billed as Screaming Lord Sutch & his Savages. Quite a few future notables passed through Sutch’s group including Ritchie Blackmore (guitar star of Meek produced instrumental combo the Outlaws and later of Deep Purple), Jimmy Page, Keith Moon (briefly), and others. He cut a string of novelty horror singles, most are fairly unlistenable– Dracula’s Daughter, Monster In Black Tights, She’s Fallen In Love With A Monster, etc. but some of the b-sides where quite good, original arrangements of rock’n’roll classics.Huey Smith’s Don’t You Just Know It and the Coaster’s I’m A Hog For You (both served as the flip side of Jack the Ripper in different pressings), Bye Bye Baby (flip of Dracula’s Daughter) are all credible, exciting rock’n’roll discs. His best was this 1965 re-make of the Johnny Burnette Trio’s first 45 (covering both sides in highly original arrangements that highlight the strengths of his band) Train Kept A Rollin’ b/w Honey Hush (CBS, UK). If it was the only record he ever made, he’d have been remembered as a genius. His best early sides compiled on a bootleg called The Screaming Lord Sutch Story can be found here.
In 1963 Sutch attempted to launch his own pirate radio station– Radio Sutch which would feature rock’n’roll records mixed in with such attractions as Mandy Rice-Davis doing dramatic readings from Lady Chatterly’s Lover but a falling out with his manager Reginald Calvert nixed the project (Calvert was later murdered by someone he swindled). The same year Sutch stood for public office for the first time, running for Prime Minister on the Teenage Party whose main platform was lowering the voting age to twelve. He would go on to run for PM in each election up until 1990, the Teenage Party evolving into the Raving Loony Party (in one memorable election he wanted to extend suffrage to animals). It was in politics that Sutch is best remembered in the U.K., always cutting a striking figure at election time, no publicity ploy beneath was beneath him. Some people even voted for him.
By the late sixties he had taken to riding around in a horse drawn chariot, his Savages outfitted in togas— “You’ve got to keep up with the times”, he told Nik Cohn.
In 1970 Sutch was signed to Atlantic who attempted to market him to an uncomprehending U.S. market releasing two LP’s– Screaming Lord Sutch and Heavy Friends (featuring all the Savages alumni who’d made it as well as Jeff Beck, John Bonham and Noel Redding) and Hands Of Jack The Ripper. He toured the U.S. in a Union Jack painted Rolls Royce. These LPs have the distinction of being among the worst ever recorded, although in retrospect, crappy as they are they’re way better than 90% of what’s made the charts in the ensuing decades.
Sutch continued to gig and even record the odd disc through the eighties, I saw him play at the Milkweig in Amsterdam in the early nineties, attempting to align himself with the Psychobilly craze, he was great in that “you had to be there and be stoned” sort of way. Unfortunately I was so loaded on hash that I lost the autographed 8×10 I’d gotten by stumbling into his dressing room and dropping the name of a mutual friend. I do remember he was surrounded by the strangest assortment of acolytes I’ve ever seen, including a guitar player named Rasputin who looked just like the real thing.
In 1991 Sutch published his autobiography: Life As Sutch (with Peter Chippendale, Harper-Collins, UK), an amusing if rather peculiar volume, for some reason it was recalled and is very rare today.
In 1999 his beloved mother Annie Emily Sutch passed away (he had lived with her for his whole life) and not long after (June 16, 1999) a grieving Lord David Sutch (he’d added the Lord via deed poll) hung himself. Sad ending, like all great rock’n’roll stories. Lord David Sutch, aka Screaming Lord Sutch is a perfect example of how a person of little promise was able to use rock’n’roll to rebuild his entire being into something special, some one who will be remembered, for as long as people care about rock’n’roll.
Sugar Boy






James “Sugar Boy” Crawford Jr., b. Oct 12, 1934 is one of the last of the great New Orleans rock’n’rollers still alive. Old timers remember him as having the best band in the city for a decade or more, as well as being the originator of Jock-a-Mo aka Iko Iko, the
Crawford formed his first group in High School– the Chapaka Shawee (which means “we ain’t raccoons”, they had no idea what it meant having gotten it from a Mardi Gras Indian chant). In addition to Crawford on piano and vocals were Edgar “Big Boy” Myles on vocals and trombone, Irving Bannister on guitar, Warren Myles Nolan Blackwell and Alfred Bernard, I’m not sure who played what or if the latter three just sang but in 1952 Aladdin issued their only 45, under the name of the Shaweez. The a-side is a minor masterpiece, “You Made Me Love You” in which Sugar Boy who trades lead vocals with Myles delivers a sobbing finale to this R&B/doo-wop ballad. The b-side was a cover of Guitar Slim’s “Feelin’ Sad”. The record was issued without having even signed a contract, they were paid $5, for the entire group!
Soon Sugar Boy had gone pro and was inked to Chess who issued three 45’s on Checker in 1954. On these sides Sugar Boy was backed by Eric Warner on drums, Frank Field on bass, Big Boy Myles on trombone, David Lastsie on tenor sax and Snooks Eaglin on guitar. The first of these discs– Overboard is one of the wildest R&B discs ever. Taken at Ramones speed, the musicians sound like they’re racing each other to the end of the tune. The record went nowhere but his second Checker disc- Jock-A-Mo was a huge local hit and would later be taken to the top of the charts as Iko Iko by the Dixie Cups (with Crawford’s name missing from the writer’s credit).
Jock-A-Mo missed the national charts but it became Sugar Boy’s calling card and kept him in live work for years. A third disc–“No More Heartaches” b/w “I Bowed My Knee” didn’t sell at all and Chess dropped Sugar Boy, leaving eighteen amazing sides in the vaults. The entire Chess/Checker output can be found here (password is bluesandrhythm.blogspot.com). Tunes like the politically incorrect Watch Her, Whip Her , the instrumental Night Rider , What’s Wrong, There Goes My Baby, are as good, or better, than anything I’ve ever heard. They weld the second line beat peculiar to New Orleans to Rhythm and Blues better than any discs this side of Fats Domino.
By 1956 Sugar Boy was signed to Imperial and back in the hands of Dave Bartholomew who had produced the Shaweez (and about 90% of the great records made in New Orleans in the fifties).
With Bartholomew’s band– Earl Palmer on drums, Lee Allen on tenor sax, etc. (same guys who played on hits by Fats Domino, Little Richard, Smiley Lewis, Shirley & Lee, et al) Sugar Boy cut the fantastic She Gotta Wobble (When She Walks) which flopped and the ballad Morning Star which became a minor hit. All together Imperial cut four singles with Sugar Boy Crawford before cutting him loose.
Still, Sugar Boy and the Cane Cutters were a good draw and played a two year stint at the all white Carousel Club in Baton Rouge as well as touring all over Louisiana and as far east as Georgia and as far west as Texas. They’d occasionally make it back in the studio, in 1959 cutting a version of Danny Boy b/w Round and Round for Montel and recording I Cried and Have A Little Mercy for Ace (produced by Mac Rebbenack who also wrote the latter) in ’61 . He also cut backing tracks for Jimmy Clanton while at Ace.
In 1963 Crawford’s career came careening to a halt thanks to a beating at the hands of a racist cop who’d pulled the band over after a gig outside of Monroe, Louisiana. Sugar Boy spent a year in the hospital recovering, and gave up rock’n’roll for good.
In 1999 I met Sugar Boy, quite by accident. I needed a locksmith to change the lock in an apartment I’d just moved into and a friend gave me the number of a locksmith he had used. It was Sugar Boy Crawford who showed up and installed my new lock. I tried to talk to him about music but he was quite taciturn on the subject, only saying “I do my singing in church these days…” with a smile. He makes occasional appearances at gospel shows, usually playing piano and has turned down offers to play jazz fest and the Ponderosa Stomp (speaking of which, why is Bon Jovi headlining Jazz Fest? Why don’t they move the Stomp to a non-jazz fest week since there’s almost no cross over audience between the two at this point….pardon me, my mind wanders easily…). Sugar Boy Crawford, yes, he was a great one. He sure was…








