The Monkees should be on the next train to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

(No. 47 in a series on artists who should be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, but are not)

By Phill Marder

Just about one year ago, this column/blog made its Goldmine debut.

Most of the articles have been dedicated to profiling artists who should be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, but are not. And in each column I have tried to give the reasons why I support those profiled.

As promised, you haven’t read “Big Star should be in the Hall of Fame because I like them” or “The Small Faces should be in the Hall of Fame before The Monkees because I think so.” Not unless you read the comments, that is.

The list of those profiled is extensive:
Jack Scott; Burt Bacharach & Hal David; Chubby Checker; Donovan; Bon Jovi; Donna Summer; America; The Guess Who; Jeff Lynne; Neil Sedaka; Chicago; Cher; Kiss; Hall & Oates; Mary Wells; The Miracles; The Marvelettes; Todd Rundgren, Heart; Jan & Dean; Linda Ronstadt; The Moody Blues; Rush; Jay & The Americans; Jimmy Buffett; The Cars; Bob Crewe; Paul Revere & The Raiders; Deep Purple; The Smiths; Connie Francis; Johnny Rivers; Jethro Tull; Def Leppard; Cliff Richard; Tommy James & The Shondells; The E-Street Band; The Crickets; The Comets; The Pet Shop Boys; Freddy Cannon; Gary US Bonds; Yes; Glen Campbell; Duran Duran; The Cure; The Monkees; Paul Anka; Bobby Vee; Foreigner; Lionel Richie & The Commodores; Brook Benton; Bobby Day; Gerry & The Pacemakers; Herman’s Hermits; Manfred Mann; The Searchers; The Troggs; The Zombies.

Quite a list and, believe it or not, there’s still a few I haven’t gotten to yet. In my mind, they all should have been in the Hall of Fame already. But which ones do Goldmine readers agree with – at least so far? It’s time to sum up as the HOF nominating committee should be busy making its choices for the next class, if it hasn’t already.

So just who has garnered the most support over the year and who do Goldmine readers think should be on this year’s list of nominees? Clicking the “thumbs up” symbol at the close of each article, I assume means you agree with the piece. Either that or you confused it with another finger.

So we’ll take the 10 profiled who received the most “thumbs up” and presume these would be Goldmine readers’ choices.

But first, under my favorite rule – “it’s my blog & I’ll do what I want to” – we can induct Bob Crewe and the team of Hal David & Burt Bacharach as non-performers, since they were primarily writers and we can add Bon Jovi, Donovan and Donna Summer because they were nominated last year and didn’t get in, though their credentials were much more substantial than almost all those who did. And don’t start crying “Bon Jovi sucks” and “Donna Summer isn’t Rock & Roll.” A zillion fans have a different opinion of Bon Jovi and Donna Summer rocks a lot harder than many already in the Hall of Fame, disco beat or not.

The E-Street Band, with 544 recommendations, ranks second on the list of “thumbs up” from Goldmine readers, but should receive automatic induction to rectify the previous, unjustified slight which saw them passed over when Bruce went in. Likewise, The Miracles (with Smokey Robinson), The Comets (with Bill Haley) and The Crickets (with Buddy Holly).

Linda Ronstadt and The Moody Blues got their fair share of “thumbs up,” but really connected with comments, most of which were positive. So they qualify for “Goldmine recommendations.”

So there’s seven new inductees (Bacharach & David counting as one) and four corrections. Then, toss in one shoo-in from the newly eligibles, Guns N’ Roses, and that makes 12.

Now for our top 10. Yes, this would make a big induction class, but who cares? Twenty-two went in the second year, 16 the first. And what’s fair is fair. The object is to get those who truly deserve to be inducted inducted.

For Goldmine readers, these 10 truly deserve, according to the number of “thumbs up” received:

(1) The Monkees (1149) – The pre-fab four easily outdistanced all competition, getting more than twice as many “thumbs up” as the runner-up E-Street Band…so far. If you don’t like them, try to keep an open mind. They represent everything a Hall of Fame should be about…massive popularity, massive success, instant recognition.

(2) The E-Street Band (544) – Goldmine readers pretty much proved Bruce Springsteen’s backup band was recording more than the required 25 years ago.

Loyal followers made Todd Rundgren No. 3 in this list of Rock Hall hopefuls

(3) Todd Rundgren (404) – Though Todd was one of the earliest selections and I certainly believe he belongs in the HOF, I must admit I was surprised at the strong support he received. No question, he’s an obvious choice.

(4) Deep Purple (234) – The English veterans have piled up impressive stats over the years and their immense and faithful fan base pushed them near the top of the list.

(5) The Smiths (232) – Right behind Deep Purple – and this order could change at any minute – is Morrissey’s cult favorites and critics’ delight. But unlike most favorites of the critics, The Smiths demonstrated legitimate talent and, consequently, sold records.

(6) Duran Duran (201) – Speaking of selling records, few bands have sold more worldwide than the Fab Five. Proved long ago they’re not just a bunch of pretty faces.

(7) The Cure (201) – Tied with Duran Duran because they’re in the same article, The Cure’s following no doubt contributed mightily to their strong showing on this list.

(8) Jethro Tull (176) – One doesn’t think of Ian Anderson’s various combinations as mainstream, but years after their peak they still command a lot of love, respect and admiration. And their accomplishments merit Hall of Fame recognition.

(9) Yes (157) – The story of Yes finished ninth in the “thumbs up” category but drew a large number of passionate comments – most positive. In fact, the Yes story was in the Top 5 most popular stories until just recently.

(10) Jimmy Buffett (152) – When I included Jimmy Buffett in the series, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The response was heartening. Longevity and quality does count.

Just missing the top 10 – or “Bubbling Under” in musical jargon – was Heart which garnered 135 “thumbs up.” I had the pleasure of seeing them this summer, and they remain an incredible band and should be inducted soon. Cliff Richard (94) and Jeff Lynne (79) also posted respectable numbers and should receive careful consideration.

Canadian supergroups The Guess Who & Rush have gained surprisingly little support

A friend who recently stopped by looked at the list of those profiled and his first response was, “The Guess Who’s not in?” The Guess Who received support, but not what I expected, and Rush was a big disappointment, considering the fanaticism of their fan base. Maybe Goldmine doesn’t reach Canada. But Kiss also limped in with a very low number, only about half of that received by The Cars.

Early selections, those whose careers peaked in the ’50s or early ’60s, are at a distinct disadvantage because there are fewer followers left alive and most are at the age where internet use isn’t a priority. Of those, Connie Francis easily drew the strongest support and Jay & the Americans had their share of backing. Glen Campbell, Jan & Dean, Johnny Rivers and Jack Scott each hit double figures but were nowhere near the leaders.

Does your opinion mean anything? Maybe, maybe not. But I do know at least some members of the nominating committee have been reading “Great Blogs of Fire” the past year, which means they’re also privy to your comments. While we’ve been critical of the Hall of Fame, I hope we’ve also been fair.

Some of you have given up on the Hall of Fame, but Rock & Roll is my music, thus the Hall of Fame is my Hall of Fame. So, in the words of the immortal Curtis Mayfield, I’m gonna keep on pushing.

Tadwashere left this comment on Facebook – “Just curious… What are you going to write about when you are done working through the list of people who aren’t in the hall of fame?”

Well, there’s still a few more HOF entries to go, and then a couple other topics I think Goldmine readers will enjoy. Stuff such as the “Goldmine’s 20 Greatest Doo Wop Groups.” It’s not listed under “Great Blogs of Fire,” but can still be found under “Articles” if you scroll down a few hundred times (not that many, really). That ranked in the Top 5 most popular list for quite some time.

I have had some requests…but I’m gonna keep writing, anyway (badaboom). If you’d like to add your requests or thoughts, feel free to submit your comments.

Paul Anka was one of Rock & Roll’s first teen idols

(No. 41 in a continuing series on artists who should be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, but are not)

By Phill Marder

This week, two artists – Paul Anka and Bobby Vee – who became teen idols at the age of 15 in spite of their talent.

The suggestion that Anka should be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is certain to draw scoffs from many. But those who were there when Rock & Roll started and those who have studied the facts and not revisionist fiction are aware that Anka was a major player in the early success of Rock.

Just 15 when his first hit record, “Diana,” was working its way to the No. 1 position, the Canadian was riding the tour busses with a lot of other Rock troopers traveling from town to town. He also toured the United Kingdom at age 16, thanks to “Diana” hitting No. 1 there also, becoming one of the biggest selling 45s ever. The terrific flip-side ballad “Don’t Gamble With Love” didn’t hurt sales, either, and helped establish Anka as one of the biggest and youngest teen idols.

At 16, Anka toured Australia with Buddy Holly and Jerry Lee Lewis as his second major hit, the power ballad “You Are My Destiny,” was heading for No. 7 in the US and No. 6 in the UK. Ironically, Anka’s follow-up to “Diana,” “I Love You Baby” backed with “Tell Me That You Love Me” bombed in the States, but both sides were hits in the UK, “I Love You Baby” soaring to No. 3.

The double-sided hit “Crazy Love” and “Let The Bells Keep Ringing” connected in the States in 1958 as Anka toured with the Everly Brothers, Sam Cooke and others. On all these tours, these youngsters were not wearing tuxedos and singing at supper clubs, you can be sure.

Later in the year Holly asked Anka, still just 17, to write him a song. The result was “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore,” which became Holly’s last hit. Anka said, “It Doesn’t Matter Anymore” has a tragic irony about it now, but at least it will help look after Buddy Holly’s family. I’m giving my composer’s royalty to his widow (Maria Elena Santiago) – it’s the least I can do.”

After combining with George Hamilton IV and Johnny Nash for “The Teen Commandments,” Anka gave his first indication of his future direction with two ballads, “(All Of A Sudden) My Heart Sings,” from 1945 and “I Miss You So” from 1940, his first Las Vegas appearance and a starring movie role in Girls Town. But, he was not finished rocking…not just yet.

From the movie came one of his biggest smashes, the driving ballad “Lonely Boy,” which sat four weeks at No. 1. Then came another early Rock classic, “Put Your Head On My Shoulder,” which sat three weeks at No. 2, blocked by Bobby Darin’s “Mack The Knife.” The No. 4 “It’s Time To Cry,” another strong ballad, followed. All three were major hits across Europe and even reached the upper echelon of the US Rhythm & Blues charts.

“Puppy Love,” supposedly written about Annette Funicello, reached No. 2 in early 1960 and “My Home Town” got to No. 8 later that year. But it proved a long wait for his next top 10 entry. However, he continued having hits and became the youngest star at New York’s Copacabana, wrote the theme song for “The Tonight Show,” wrote the English lyrics to the French standard “My Way,” and penned “She’s A Lady,” a mammoth hit for Tom Jones.

While producing “Oh Happy Day” for the Edwin Hawkins Singers, Anka and his protégé, Odia Coates, recorded the controversial “(You’re) Having My Baby,” which, in spite of female ire from many quarters, sat at No. 1 for three weeks. To placate the upset feminists, Anka later sang “our baby” when performing the song live. Coates and Anka followed with three more hits and he added a solo top 10 entry, “Times Of Our Life,” to close out 1975. But, by this time, his Rock & Roll past was well behind him.

Still, in 1990, it was Anka inducting Darin into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, though Darin, from the outset of his career, had made no secret of his ambition to develop into the next Frank Sinatra. Anka didn’t start out with that in mind. He was just a real young kid with tremendous talent. He paid his dues as a teenage Rock & Roll idol and deserves recognition for the contributions he made.

I don’t ever remember seeing Vee in a tuxedo, at least not in concert. Of course, I never was invited to any of his family functions, either.

Yes, his records were not the heaviest, but he did cut many great sides, beginning with his 1959 chart debut, “Suzie Baby” after starting his career in the worst way possible, filling in for Holly after the plane crash that claimed Holly’s life. In the liner notes to his 1963 album, “I Remember Buddy Holly,” Vee wrote, “The local radio station broadcast a plea for local talent to entertain at the scheduled dance. About a week before this, I had just organized a vocal and instrumental group of five guys. Our style was modeled after Buddy’s approach and we had been rehearsing with Buddy’s hits in mind. When we heard the radio plea for talent, we went in and volunteered. We hadn’t even named the group up to that time, so we gave ourselves a name on the spot, calling ourselves ‘The Shadows’.”

Eventually, Vee recorded an LP with The Crickets.

“I have never forgotten Buddy Holly and his influence on my singing style and my career,” Vee noted.

Vee turned out to be much more than a Holly clone. He became a major star, posting six top 10 records in a long and fruitful career.

The first breakthrough came with his 1960 remake of the Clovers’ 1956 hit, “Devil Or Angel,” which Vee carried to No. 6. He followed with another No. 6, the bubblegum classic “Rubber Ball.” The follow-up, “Stayin’ In,” which describes Vee sitting in detention for punching his friend in the nose, didn’t do much to dispel Vee’s sugary reputation, but the flip, “More Than I Can Say,” later remade by Leo Sayer, was a gem, reaching No. 4 in the United Kingdom, and the follow, the solid rocker “How Many Tears,” also hit the UK top 10.

Vee’s records sparkled with pristine production that helped carry “Take Good Care Of My Baby” to No. 1 in 1961 and “The Night Has A Thousand Eyes” to No. 3 in 1963. Meanwhile, “Run To Him,” a wall of sound ballad, reached No. 2 backed by a solid rocker, “Walkin’ With My Angel,” and two more ballads, “Please Don’t Ask About Barbara” and “Sharing You” each peaked at No. 15.

As noted previously, Vee was just as popular in England, notching 10 hit singles, including six that reached the Top 10. Five Vee EPs made the UK top 20 between 1961 and 1963, “Just For Fun” by Vee & the Crickets going all the way to No. 1. His albums also sold well there, “Bobby Vee Meets The Crickets” reaching No. 2 in 1962, while seven others climbed into the top 20. For proof of his staying power, “The Very Best Of Bobby Vee” peaked at No. 18 just three years ago, 47 years after his UK debut. But the British Invasion appeared to end Vee’s hit-making run after “Charms” in 1963, though he surprised everyone with a monster smash in 1967, “Come Back When You Grow Up” climbing to No. 3 in the US The follow, “Beautiful People,” also cracked the US top 40, just edging the original version by its composer Kenny O’Dell.

For the most part, Vee’s chart presence ended as the ’70s entered, but he has remained active on the concert circuit. His backing band, which once included a young Bob Dylan, now features two sons, Jeff and Tom.

Vee’s portfolio should get a second look by those involved in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Though some of his recordings were sugary, his quality never was less than excellent and earlier this year, he was most deservedly inducted into The Rockabilly Hall of Fame. The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame should follow suit.

(Rockhouse Productions)

There are just not that many newer releases that I like enough that I can listen over and over again and not get tired of it. But your I Wouldn’t Change A Thing has got all of the various elements of your greatest hit recordings, yet it’s all even more understated, which I think is a lost art.

BV: I think a lot of that came from the comfort level, because I’m a pretty understated person. I mean I can get pretty vivid on stage performing, [but] generally I’m understated and I like understatement in music, too. I love pop music, but I like the understated pop music. You can listen to it and take it in easily and quickly, and that’s why it becomes so popular. I hear it as a pop album, but it’s understated, it’s not so in your face. Also, this is a time in my life when I don’t feel any pressure at all. It was made over a period of time with some songs that were recorded earlier that we just went back into, and we thought, “Well, [let's] see what they sound like,” and we thought, “Well, let’s see if we can make them sound like the other stuff that we’re doing,” and it wasn’t that difficult. There’s really something to be said for not being on the charts, and not being in the limelight, because you really have nothing to lose. And it’s not about winning or losing. This is what I do. This is what I’ve been blessed [with] in my life. Even as a kid I felt that stirring inside of me, and I got excited about music, and I loved listening to music and I loved making records. I loved making records, even the bad ones; it’s a great process. I was always more comfortable in the studio than performing live.  If there’s one person that’s going to like the record I want it to be me.

You need to be able to take yourself both with a grain of salt and seriously at the same time. What prompted you to do the remakes of your songs?

BV: Just, they were thoughts that rambled around in my head for years. When I recorded Sonny’s song “How To Make A Farewell” I was aware of what a sophisticated lyric it was. It wasn’t just a typical pop song. It was a very thoughtful song written by a guy who was like 22 years old — and I would think to myself, “How does he know these things?” at 22. How do you know that much about relationships that you can write a song about saying goodbye? While the record that I recorded was OK for the time period, it was approached sort of like “Run To Him” in depth and width, with that big string sound. I always thought it was an intimate song. It’s on The Essential. Or maybe [it] came out as a B-side on one of the records that wasn’t a hit. You can check the discography on the Web site. We basically used his demo as a reference point — on the old one — and used that as the starting point and then put strings on it.

When I came around to doing it again, like we touched on earlier, a lot songs from the early ’60s were sad songs. “Take Good Care Of My Baby” is about a guy who’s losing the girl.  I’ve always taken songs and liked to turn them around a little bit. Like “Tell Me How” on the Down The Line CD, if you listen to “Tell Me How” I turned it into a ballad, and Holly’s version was just rockin’. I always loved the song and thought if he would have put that out it would have been a hit, but he didn’t. It was a B-side. But I did it as a ballad, and I think it works really well as a ballad. ‘Cause I love songs, and I think that a good song can be done in a lot of different ways, and that’s how I came to “How To Make A Farewell.” I’d  do it at sound-check and just do it on my own time. Then I thought, it occurred to me after I’d done the “Blue Days Black Nights” thing, that that song, what a wonderful thing that would be if you had a woman singing it with you, and that’s where Nancy Griffith came in.

That song gives me chills. For one thing, the way you’re singing it it sounds like you know the subject matter very well.

BV: Well, I do. My wife and I have been married for 45 years, and you go through those things in a relationship.

You go through them as a teenager, too. Just because you’re 16  doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you. You feel those things. As you get older you understand more about what it was you felt … The piano, the playing it slow, it’s a blues song.  I could hear Joe Cocker doing that song this way, the way you’ve arranged it. “You’ve learned how to smile when we meet and I’ve had to learn how not to weep.” These are things that are universal. A tremendous song and the recording is incredible.

BV: There y’go. It gives you a chance to ponder the story.

The original ’60s recording I thought was pretty good, but the flutes or piccolos destroy it.

BV: They take you out of the game.  It’s too cute for the song. I think it’s a good piece of material, songs that ring true continue to ring true.

How did you come to meet and become friends with Tim Rice?

BV: When I was over in England, it was called the Rock ‘N Blues Reunion. It was Rick Nelson, Bo Diddley, The Marvelettes, Del Shannon, Frankie Ford, and myself. I don’t think I’ve left anybody out, and it was Richard Nader, the guy who started the oldies thing in New York at Madison Square Garden, [who] had a client over there that put this tour together. We went over, and it was a very successful tour, and the two last shows that we did were at the Albert Hall. And I had met Julian Lloyd Webber, Andrew’s brother, on a previous trip, and we became friends. Julian said, “I’m going to have a little tour-ending party after the show at my place.”

So Del and I went over to the party, and Tim was there. I chatted with him, and you’d love to talk to this guy. He’s written books on that time period, and he’s just such a fan. And we became friends, and we had a great friend in common, an Englishman that ended up working for Liberty, still a  great friend of mine and Tim’s, Alan Warner. So on subsequent visits we would get together and go out to dinner, and Julian became a friend, and we performed at Andrew Lloyd Webber’s 50th birthday party. We were invited to do that. That was just a great fun, and it is a great relationship with all of them. When Tim came over to the United States to do the “Aida” kickoff, right then in England he said I’m coming over in March, and I’d love for you guys to come. And we came to the show, and it was at that point we went out to dinner — he loves Buddy Holly and Clovis, and all that stuff. And we were talking about Buddy Holly and some of the characters, the Picks and the Roses and stuff like that. He’s very interested in that, and he said to me, “Whatever happened to Peggy Sue?” And I laughed, and five months later he sent me that lyric. What kind of gift is that!?!  The guy has received grammys and everything else.

I went back and listened to the original “Maybe Just Today” a few times. I like it alright, but this one blows it away. The way you have re-worked it on this album it sounds like it could have been written last night.

BV: Well thank you, it’s such a good lyric. And like the Sonny Curtis song, you just take a few liberties with it and all of sudden you’ve got something new. That was another song that I wasn’t happy with when I recorded the original — in fact we recorded the original twice, two different sessions. It felt like I didn’t get it the first time. I thought, “Well this is a good song” and went in and did it again and still didn’t get it, but we put it out anyway. It’s another one of those songs that I thought, “This is a wonderful lyric.” It’s about letting go and just getting rid of the baggage and just coming together as a couple.

It’s a Zen song …

BV: Yeah, let’s start today. The lyric pretty much says it, the title says it. All that matters is today and tomorrow…  So that was another of those things that rolled around in my head, and I thought, “I’m gonna try this again.” I think it would be a good country song. I’d like to see a country artist take that and  really do a treatment on it ‘cause I really think it’s a great lyric. They both evolved again the same way “Maybe Just Today” did, and “How To Make A Farewell,” they were songs I would sing at home or if I was out on the road maybe use them as a sound-check. Again, the contemplative part of the lyric had a little bit more room to breathe. I’d been doing the slow versions of both for about 10 years and never even thought about recording them.

To heck with the country artist, what about Bobby Vee? Let’s see Bobby Vee on CMT!

BV: Well.. (laughs)

You could fake people out just picking up this CD and reading the credits on the back. They’re going to get something quite different than what they might expect just from reading the track listing. You’ve given these songs a whole other life.

BV: That’s good! It would be impossible for me to go back in — you can never go home again with a hit song. That song is going to live on with its errors and mistakes and wrong lyrics, and that’s the way you want to hear it. And I know that I want because I hear new versions of other people’s songs, Fats Domino or somebody, and I want to hear the wow and flutter on “Blueberry Hill.”

That Canadian label Silver Eagle had Rick Nelson go back in and redo all of of his hits, and even though they’re well done and the band is great, I didn’t see any point. I would have been just as happy to have all the original recordings and then throw in the “You Know What I Mean” and any new tracks as bonus tracks.

BV: When we were in England on that tour he had made peace with his past, and he went out and did a greatest-hits show, and it was amazing. Such a wonderful show. The only original song he did was “You Know What I Mean.” But yeah, I know what you mean, and I’ve done it myself. I’ve re-recorded my songs myself, but it doesn’t work. You want to hear the things that you’re not hearing that you grew up listening to. It’s really hard to trick people.

Yeah, you want to hear Joe Osborne flub that fourth bass note or whatever. But with your CD I just played it and this was all a pleasant surprise.

BV: The stuff is so different, and my hope was that people wouldn’t be irritated.

These fit in perfectly with the concept. I’ve been describing this as a singer/songwriter album rather than anything they might automatically expect out of Bobby Vee.

BV: I was concerned about that, too. It’s kind of all over the place, but yet there seems to be a thread that ties it all together. I’m aware too, from songs I write. I write things in groups and use one of them. Some of the songs I wrote for this CD, I used them all. “One Way Or Another,” we’re both so much alike, is one of the happier tunes on there.

“One Way Or Another” is a Top 40 song waiting to happen. It’s got all of the elements of a Bobby Vee hit: the doubled vocals, harmonies, the works.

BV: I love to do backgrounds. If I could’ve been a background singer exclusively I would’ve been thrilled. I love to do harmonies and all of that stuff. Building vocal parts is the most fun.

“Think About That” is almost a ’50s rock ‘n roll record. It’s so simple, but it has this authority about it. It’s a very powerful song somehow yet there’s almost nothing there!

BV: I don’t know where that came from! It’s got a lot of energy. That’s Robbie on guitar. “Wink Of An Eye” that was the oldest song. I recorded it five years earlier but just hadn’t used it. It was so much different than anything else. But it works here.  The one song I approached as a ’60s song was “Storybook Ending.” [I] wondering if I could take that formula and write a new song.

It’s great, too. It’s your reggae song. It has that bounce.

BV: (Laughs) never thought about it like that! “I Wouldn’t Change A Thing” and “Wink Of An Eye” were written back in 1995. We went back and pulled all of the synthesizer stuff off of “Wouldn’t Change A Thing” and put on real strings, added the piano, and I think we made it a much better song. Technically my album isn’t even released in America!  At least with satellite radio there is all kinds of stuff being played, so get ready.

Do you have any plans for a follow-up album? It’s about time!

BV: We’re going to start recording later spring, this summer. We do these gatherings, discipline ourselves to come in every Tuesday night and put our cards on the table, and then do it again. And we’re never too far away from it.

Have you ever had the opportunity to perform all of your new stuff live in a concert situation?

BV: I haven’t, no.

I see you and your boys going out and doing an “Elvis Comeback Special” sort of in-the-round acoustic performance with your new stuff, and the acoustic versions of “Take Good Care Of My Baby” and so forth, talking and telling stories and joking with the boys. Maybe even throw in a couple of other things that you think might be appropriate, take a break and then come back and give ‘em what they expect, all the big hits? For one thing, I think it’s an absolute crime that people aren’t hearing this yet. Did you ever think about doing something like that?

BV: Not until you brought it up! I’ve been doing what I do for so long. I mean I’m amazed that people come to my shows, and to sit down and play 45 minutes of something that they’re not geared up to hear might be difficult. I’d like to do something like that. I’m at a point in my life where I’m wanting to do a different presentation, and that would fit into that thought. The Christmas shows that we started doing a few years ago, I’ll be five or six songs into the set before I do a hit and mix it up. And that was interesting to me, ’cause I’m used to coming out and opening up with a hit and something familiar, and reversing that was really uncomfortable for me. But it worked. It was fine. One of the best shows I’ve seen in years was Brian Wilson. He did a lot of really interesting stuff in the first half, and then opened the second half up and did the entire Smile album, and then ended up with “Help Me Rhonda” and “Dance Dance Dance” and just tore the roof off the place. So it’s possible to do that stuff; it was just most enjoyable.

It seems to me you could do it as an event, promote it as an event, and film it. Do like the runway out onto a small stage out in the middle of the crowd, where you have a much more intimate setting. Do the whole Wouldn’t Change A Thing, and talk to people and tell stories, take a break, head back to the stage, which is set up like a ’50s show, and come back on and just do everything — the whole nine yards, all the hits and more. Call it “An Evening With Bobby Vee” or something.

BV: I can see myself doing it. It’s certainly possible, though my mind immediately goes to cost. But that’s changing. It’s like the record business, the film industry — there’s a lot of people working with film, a lot of good product, there’s good cameras … but it’s possible to do. I’m in the music business. It’s like the Christmas shows we do; it’s taking an idea and making it happen. The majority of the shows we do are retro in design. But the Christmas stuff we market ourselves, and we sell the show and it is what it is. It’s a holiday season show, and it has the hits, and I put some unusual stuff in there, too. There’s a couple of songs on the Christmas CD that I wrote that I put in there, too. And if we’re producing the shows, we can do whatever we want to do. In England the Vees opened the set, did three songs before I came on, and they opened with “Flying High” and the people went nuts. It was so authentic, really set the table! I did a thing in Louisville. I hadn’t done this in a long time; it was like a non-job. We went in, it was for a horse-breeder, race horses, [who] booked us to come in and asked if we could do it acoustic. I had been thinking about doing that, and we talked about it so I was  receptive to the idea. And then when I thought about it for a day or two I thought, “Yeah, let’s just do it. That’d be great.” So we did, it was an acoustic show, and we played the arrangements at the piano, and we used the strings. The strings were wonderful. I had such a good time doing the whole thing, and the audience was so good that we just started singing old songs. I  did “Bye Bye Love.” I hadn’t done that in years. It’s not a song I would put in my set, and yet we talked about it. [We] didn’t even rehearse it, just talked about it. Everybody in the audience was singing along, so I really got something out of that, that there’s another way to do a show and I’m ready to do that. I think that is the way to go, be able to tell stories and sing songs, like a fireside. I found that out. It takes it to a different place. You take out the show business part of it.

How did the Dick Clark American Bandstand Theater run in Branson come to be and how did it go?

BV: We were there for two and a half years. I had gotten a call from Bill Medley and Paul Revere, and they were gonna be at the theater as well. They were really excited about it. I know them well enough to be able to read their excitement. And I was glad to get the call; it was something different. It was a brand new theater, Dick Clark, American Bandstand Theater. I grew up with all of that stuff and was proud to be part of it. So then we started talking about putting a show together and called a number of people, called Fabian [and] got him on the phone and  told him what we were doing, and he was right on it. So we basically owned our part of the show together, [and] we were there two weeks at a time, and Bill Medley and Paul Revere & The Raiders were there the other two weeks. So we were on two weeks and off two weeks. It was terrific.

We had Chris Montez. We basically hired our friends; Brian Hyland, Judy Mann of the Chiffons… it was a dream come true; it was fun every night. At the end of the two and a half years — well at the end of two years — I could tell that the economy was getting weird and the crowds were shifting. Something was going on it was clear to me and also I was getting tired of … I’m kind of like a free-range chicken. I like to move around and do different things. It started getting to be like “Ground Hog’s Day” and that’s not a nice feeling if you’ve ever experienced it. [It] started getting harder and harder to get my energy up for it, and yet I loved working. I loved doing the show. We didn’t have a bad [one]. It was nothing but good energy ’cause we’re all friends, everybody rooting for everybody.

So anyway we’re not doing that any more, but I would go back. I just wouldn’t want to spend that much time there. I like being in Branson. I like the people. I like the hills and the valleys and fishing and all of that stuff. It was the right thing for us to do, and we’ve taken the show out on the road about 12 times with the same group, same cast of people.

OK, well “50 Winters Later” at the Surf Ballroom — I was one of those “kids” freezing in line waiting outside every day, and it was worth every minute. It must have been a whirlwind of emotions and people reminiscing with you.

BV: We had been working on this thing for a year and half before it ever happened. I was just dreaming about it. I think I just wore myself out! I was there the whole week, and it was just to the walls. I was looking at some of the footage this morning. We’ve got some good footage. At one time they had nine different cameras on the stage! And the energy was wonderful. Even though we didn’t come up with the Paul McCartney thing or whatever, it was a great show, and the people that were there act-wise and audience-wise wanted to be there, and you couldn’t ask for more than that. Every act that got up on stage wanted to be there. They had a personal reason to be there. Graham Nash, he was one of the first guys that I called, sent him a nice little invitation card. About three weeks later [I] got a call back, and he was on board with both feet. He wanted to be there. It’s not one of those things you can explain or need to explain; it’s so personal. He had his son with him, and he was having a great time, and every one of them had a story to tell.

You were involved with the entire event with The Vees and your Rockhouse Productions. How much input did you have into getting that line-up there?

BV: We basically got them there. It was so fluid. We’d get people that would call up and say, ‘Yeah I can do it. I wanna do it,” and then call back and say, “Well I’m gonna be in Amsterdam with one day off and don’t think I can do it,” so it was always in flux right down to the wire, really. There were some other names that expressed sincere interest, but it just didn’t work for them for whatever reason.

I’ve been to a lot of concerts but there couldn’t have been a better week for any baby boomer; it’s just not possible. I was standing right in front of Shirley Alston and when she did “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” I was crying like a little girl. And Jason D. Williams was just unbelievable. I understand why they brought in Kenny Aronoff and those guys. God bless ‘em. And it was really cool to see Chuck Leavell and Bobby Keys. That was great, but just from the standpoint of a band playing behind all of those acts, they didn’t hold a candle to your boys. It’s a shame that PBS won’t have The Vees. Tommy came out and did a bass solo. My mental picture of him … I can’t remember if his bass was right side up or upside down, but I think his bass was upside down. Whatever it was, he did a bass solo on his doghouse bass that a bass player on an electric would play hell to pull off. I’m a bass player, and I’m watching him and thinking, “God I need to get lessons.” I’ve only been playing 45 years I need to go back to school. No matter what was going on, Tommy and Jeff and Ar and Jeff on piano were right there in the pocket. Every act that walked across the stage should have kissed The Vees. And then Tommy was even running the stage on Monday. It just killed me to see all of this. To use your word, the impression was perfection. They filmed the wrong night. They should have filmed Saturday night with your full set.

BV: We talked about it, and in fact I think we did do some filming of Saturday night. It’s live music, and there’s nothing better than live music. It disarms you and takes you wherever you want to go.

Obviously you were not aware that Terry Stewart and Jeff Nicholson were going to come out on stage and present you with the mounted Surf photograph and the plaque from the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame. That had to catch you by surprise.

BV: Well it did. Terry was kind enough to say, “I would like to do something for you,” and I said, “You know, I don’t want this to be about me,” ‘cause it’s my 50th Anniversary, too, and that made him uncomfortable. So I knew something was going on, and he said it would be inappropriate to not spotlight you somehow, and that’s kind of where it was left. And I understood them too. But no, they blind-sided me when they came up on stage and it was as uncomfortable as could be! (laughs) I have such respect for Terry and what his life is like and the demands that are made on him. A super guy.

The next time they hand you something it should be at an induction ceremony at the Waldorf or the Hall Of Fame …

BV: The first time I met Terry I was in New York at the Roseland Ballroom. Paul McCartney had invited us to come in to do the 1999 tribute to Buddy Holly, and so I was kind of moving through the audience. There were a lot of celebrities in the audience, and McCartney showed up and I chatted with him for a while, and then I went down to the second level where the customers were and die-hard fans were, and I ran into Terry. I had never met him before. And he said, “I’m so sorry. I know you should be in the Hall Of Fame. I know it. Lots of people know it,” and it was such a sweet thing to say. He was so down to earth and so genuine, and it was the sentiment of that plaque that he presented to me. It’s such a nice thing. It’s the sentiment of those things that give me personal value.

Any last thoughts on your 50th Anniversary — the 50th Anniversary of your career beginning, Buddy Holly’s career ending? 50 years ago, as much as one may be missed, the other is still ascending.

BV: It’s hard to take in, because it’s my life. And I do re-live those years. I still love the music. I know my story and what it means to me, but I don’t over-think it. It was nice to be there, but again, I was there because of my connection, I guess. But the Buddy Holly thing has been real for me in my life. I’ve done tributes to him in every show I’ve ever done, and he’s still my Elvis; he’s still the guy.  That story has traveled with me so much in my life, it’s been a joy ride. Some people ask me if it’s been an albatross, but it really hasn’t. The Down The Line CD, I put that out myself to mark my 40th Anniversary. Paul McCartney, owning the publishing to that stuff, has invited us to England a couple of times to be part of Buddy Holly Week over there, and that association has been fun. He’s a fan of the music — not only owns the publishing, but he’s a fan and  Buddy Holly was an inspiration  to him. He’s always been generous, and he always gets up at the end of the  evening and sings “Rave On”or something. Those are some of  the spices of the life that I live, and other than that the  whole “oldies” business is a relatively invisible  business. But, as I said earlier I’m always amazed that people show up, but they do, so this is really a great time in my life to go out and do what I do and work with my family, and to have the sort of rhythm that goes along with it.

SIDE NOTE: Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame CEO Terry Stewart on Bobby Vee

You are a long-time fan of Bobby Vee as an artist. How would you describe the impact of his music specifically, and the early ’60s pop scene in general?

Terry Stewart: He was one of the leading hit-makers in the U.S. and around the world during that almost decade of when his music was so popular. So countless people around the world were influenced by him. He sold millions and millions of records, and he was really one of the premier recording talents in that time, and he remains so, because he continues to be very popular particularly overseas.

Do you have any favorites among Bobby’s discography?

TS: Lots of them! “Susie Baby,” “What Do You Want,” “Stayin’ In” and “More Than I Can Say.” The 2-sided stuff, “I’ll Make You Mine,” the British sound … I loved them all!

The historical connection between Bobby Vee and Buddy Holly can’t be denied or overstated. Do you see a musical connection as well?

TS: He did start there obviously. His music sounded like that and took off from there, evolved over time with new producers and songwriters. Over the years he never really lost anything, except for maybe a little along the British side (laughs). His music always harkens back to it and never got that far away from his roots. He even recorded with The Crickets!

You are personally acquainted with Bobby and made an emotional presentation to him as an artist and as a person on behalf of the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame at the Surf Ballroom on Feb. 2, 2009, celebrating Bobby’s 50-year career on the national scene.

TS: I’m a big fan from many points of view, not only because of the role he’s played in the music scene and his role in keeping the Surf going, but also his integrity and goodness as a man and a father and the musical and professional legacy he has passed on to his sons and the Vees as a band.

Do you have any feelings, thought s or opinions you can express as to the general absence of late ’50s/early ’60s teen idols in the Rock Hall? Gene Pitney, Ricky Nelson and Del Shannon are about the only inductees to fit that general category. Do you think it’s perhaps a matter of perception as to the musical validity of pop music? Isn’t pop music by definition the soundtrack of our lives and those artists therefore worthy?

TS: I don’t think it really has anything to do with pop music, although that might raise it’s head. It’s really a matter how much did they create as opposed to being run through them and interpreted, in the sense of what did they have to do with songwriting, arranging, producing …  actually creating the product, not just coming through their voice. Not that their voice isn’t important. The issue mainly concerns what their real role was in what they created. Some people get hung up on the difference between pop music and rock ‘n’ roll, but I fail to see that particular divide. The discussions aren’t very often about pop vs. rock ‘n’ roll or vs. hip hop. Everybody writes a pop song from time to time. They do a ballad. Their ballads tend to be more pop-ish. You can say, “Well, it’s a ‘power ballad’ now.” Well no, it’s a pop ballad, all that sort of stuff.

The realities are what did an artist create. Usually the validity, real heritage or legacy of an artist is not  just what they sang, although sometimes people have been the great interpretors — Jerry Lee Lewis, considered to be one of the great interpretors of all time, he likes to talk about himself, Hank Williams and Al Jolson as the great interpreters. He uses a different word. I forget what it is. But more often than not when we’re getting into discussions about who should be in, who shouldn’t be in, it comes down to: OK did they write their music; did they arrange it; did they produce it; what did they do besides just sing it; did somebody bring them songs from the Brill Building or whatever. OK? Not that it isn’t important to sing it and the Brill Building is very important, too, but it’s how people look at it.

How would you relate that very definition to Bobby? Would you connect him to that?

TS: Well no, he’s written some, but more often than not he didn’t write it. That could be a difference. Yeah, I don’t know. People don’t necessarily … what they say is, they start talking about somebody, people listen, and nobody’s going to attack anybody. So what happens is then people vote, and they either vote for or they don’t vote for.

I think I know how you vote …

Specifically, Bobby Vee’s place in rock ‘n’ roll history is long established. Do you feel that the Rock Hall membership will eventually vote to include him?

TS: Well … yeah, and I hope he does. He has a tremendous catalog, and I’m going to do everything I can to get him in.

Wording on the plaque presented to Bobby Vee Feb. 2, 2009 from the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame:

“Bobby Vee broke into the ranks of rock and roll through a tragic twist of fate and went on to become one of the biggest rock and roll stars of the pre- Beatles era. With a career that has lasted five decades, he has landed 38 singles on the Billboard magazine 100 chart, ten of those singles reaching the Top 20, six of them gold. He has appeared in four feature films and countless television shows. As a testament to this tremendous track record, Billboard magazine named him “One of the Top 10 most consistent chart makers ever.” The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum is proud to honor Bobby Vee, celebrating his career, music and spirit 50 Winters Later.”

Click here to check out the latest price guides from Goldmine

by  Craig Moore

Bobby Vee’s true place in the annals of rock ’n’ roll is only just now being thoroughly researched and acknowledged.

In the first four parts of our career-spanning interview, Bobby discussed his influences and his early days with brother Bill as mentor. Now we find the young man from Fargo bursting onto the national scene following the tragedy of Clear Lake, rubbing elbows with the greatest songwriters and producers of the ’60s and ’70s and creating some of the most important pop hits of the entire rock ’n’ roll genre. He evolved not only into a singer/songwriter to be reckoned with, but also as a rock icon who has never left the road nor his fans behind.

With Elvis, people would fine-tune their demos, to try and make them accessible to him, like the ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ demo written by Hoyt Axton’s mother. And in the early ’60s, they had P.J. Proby doing the demos for “Follow That Dream” and “King Of The Whole Wide World” and all that kind of stuff …

Bobby Vee: I’ll tell you a funny story. I was watching televison, one of the late-night shows — this was quite a few years ago — and I heard Elvis singing. I was in the other room, and when I went in to look, here it was Otis Blackwell, and he was singing the songs he had written for Elvis, sounding like Elvis.

Well, you  want to get his attention, you know!

BV: Got my attention! But there were a lot of songs that were tailor-made for artists, and it was sort of that Catch-22 thing, if you don’t have a hit you can’t have any songs. So it was after “Devil Or Angel” that people started sending me songs. And then the Carole King/Gerry Goffin relationship, which really became something.

Did you ever sit down with them?

BV: One time. That was when I was recording “How Many Tears.” They flew out and came to the session, on the break — we were cutting an album (Bobby Vee With Strings And Things) and “How Many Tears” was part of that and eventually became a single. And on the break they sang two songs that they had just written, and that was the reason that they came out. And one of them was “In My Baby’s Eyes,” which is a great song, and the other was “Take Good Care Of My Baby,” and they did them in that order, and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A couple of weeks later we went in and cut “Take Good Care Of My Baby.”

Why wasn’t “It Might As Well Rain Until September” a Bobby Vee single? Did you do it before or after Carole King?

BV: As I understand it, her demo was her single. We got three of her songs at the same time. She sent “It Might As Well Rain Until September,” “Go Away Little Girl,” and “Sharing You.” I didn’t capture “Go Away Little Girl.” I really liked “It Might As Well Rain Until September,” and I LOVED “Sharing You.”

I thought that was great, the strings that Ernie put in there. I liked them all, but we had to make a decision, and the way Donny Kirshner at Aldon/Screen Gems Music operated was, “You know you’ve got a window of opportunity; if you’re not going to put this out as a single, we’ll get a single on it ’cause they’re all good songs, and somebody else will put it out,” and that’s what happened. We put out “Sharing You,” and of course, Steve Lawrence put out “Go Away Little Girl,” and then Carole came out with “Might As Well Rain Until September.” She was as good as gold. I like everything about it, and in retrospect, I wish we had put it out, because it had the ad-libbed introduction like “Take Good Care Of My Baby.” Unusual song.

It would have been a great follow-up. But “Sharing You” is a killer record though, an absolutely great record and it doesn’t get any airplay.

BV: I think of it as a fringe hit, although it was a Top 20 record. It’s kind of the “color” in my chart life.

You did all your own harmonies on those records, right? The Bobby Vee Brothers — “Please Don’t Ask About Barbara” is really tricky!

BV: Yes I did, just off the top of my head, we just did it. I had the ability to sing harmony parts, but that was a tough song. But there’s one place if you listen to it, where I drop into unison with myself. (sings the harmony part) “…tears tears go away, come again some other day,” somewhere within all of that I just couldn’t find the harmony, just for one note …

That’s OK!

BV: Right…and it’s fine!

Have you ever gotten tired of performing those hits?

BV: Rarely. It happens at times, with the exception of “Take Good Care Of My Baby” and “The Night Has A Thousand Eyes,” which I’ve never gotten tired of. There’ve been others that I just give ’em a rest, and then songs that I haven’t done in years [that] I’ll all of a sudden start doing those again — “How Many Tears,” “One Last Kiss” — and it’s a great piece of material, and I rediscover the joy of it.

When you were doing the sessions at Liberty, did you ever present any of your own stuff? How much input did they allow you as the artist into which records were made, [and] how they sounded?

BV: I was comfortable with the level of attention that my own songs got, and after the first couple of albums came out, I started … I had always been writing. It’s an interesting thing. People talk about The Beatles, John and Paul and George Harrison often gets left out, and here’s a guy who had several major records, and they were amazing songs, and it’s almost the association, he was working with a couple of guys who were genius writers, and he became a sensational writer. I think when you’re working with people, they raise the bar, if we’re paying attention we can be better.  So I learned a lot about songwriting. I’m not a prolific songwriter but I enjoy writing.  And I think I became a better writer by being around songwriters and listening to them talk and being part of that process.

Some of the records that don’t get a lot of notice, “Charms,” “Never Love A Robin,” “Be True To Yourself,” do those titles generate any memories?

BV: You actually picked out a couple of them there. I still do “Charms” from time to time, I just think it’s a great record, early pop record, early ’60s, it’s a sweet song. I love the drums on it, the brushes, and it’s a good record, mixed nicely. “Never Love A Robin” I love. And “Armen’s Theme,” I like that, too. I was told that “Never Love A Robin” got played in Detroit on one of the powerhouse stations, I was excited about that ’cause I really did pay attention to who was playing the songs and I would call disc jockeys and introduce myself to ‘em, try to spur those records along. But “Never Love A Robin” is a wonderful song, a great lyric, like a movie, you could put it in a movie, I see images with it when I hear the song. It was another of those a capella or part a capella entrances, like “Take Good Care Of My Baby.” I also did a version of the Fleetwoods’ “Mr. Blue” where I did the a capella piece in front of that. I never really thought that much about it until quite a few years later I started adding up all the songs I did a capella opening, and I thought jeesh I should splice them all together. (Another great one, “Punish Her”) “Armen’s Theme” was such a wonderful thing. Ross Bagdasarian who was David Seville, that was his song, I think he had invested some money in Liberty, he was good friends with Si Warnoker, Lenny Warnoker’s dad who really had put the money up for the label. And it was just a great song. I think maybe great songs are just like that. You can visualize them. You can see the guy sitting in the café, drinking  a beer, or a whiskey….whatever it is.

I could see somebody like a Michael Buble or a Harry Connick Jr doing that, with the big band — well, you could re-do it yourself of course! But even back then what came to my mind, wow this is Bobby Vee but it seemed to me like Sinatra or something.

BV: Oh, wouldn’t that be great?  And it’s a great piece of material, that’s everything, it gives you a lifespan.

That was a big 2-sided record in my mind, I always thought.

BV: (Laughs) … that did absolutely nothing! That’s not always … well I love hearing that. People earmark songs …

You had a lot of what I think were 2-sided masterpieces: ‘Run To Him” / “Walkin’ With My Angel,” “Stayin In” / “More Than I Can Say,” “Rubber Ball” / “Everyday,” “Punish Her” / “Someday” — lots of them. Most of them.

BV: Snuffy liked to record and so did I. There was a time when the B-side might save you. You put all that effort into making records and then not to give people an A-side and a B-side, I loved that. I used to go into someplace in Fargo and put the nickel in the jukebox, listen to Elvis Presley on the jukebox for 4 days and then flip the record over. A lot of my stuff was B-sides and I was glad to have them, they paid the same as the A-side.

Exactly, there’s nothing like having the B-side of a record that sells a million copies!

BV: Yeah, “Take Good Care Of My Baby.” Dick Glasser wrote “Bashful Bob” and bought a house with the royalties.

From listening to your new album (I Wouldn’t Change A Thing) it’s clear  you also learned a great deal about production and how to make a record. It’s all over it. We were talking about “Whatever Happened To Peggy Sue.” You’ve got the plucked strings, you’ve got the bass part but then you have a tremeloed bass part over the top of that. You’ve got layers of things going on that are very simple little things that you can do in the studio.

BV: Yep, thanks. You know Ernie Freeman did that so naturally, here’s a guy that came out of the whole blues background and all of a sudden was making pop records. But he had a way of separating things, whether it be a guitar part that wove in and out, or just a rhythm part, or the piano licks in “Take Good Care Of My Baby” that are so important to that song. Or “Walkin’ With My Angel,” they’re just little things, but they re-occur and string lines that re-occur, and they became hooks.

I’ve learned over the years as a songwriter that trying to write something like a “Run To Him” with a naturally flowing hook, is really a trick. Something like that either comes to you or it doesn’t.

BV: I’m trying not to sound bitter, but you know, sandwiched in between the free-flowing years of rockabilly and rock ‘n’ roll, and then the unbelievable great songs and exciting era of The Beatles, and that little late 50’s & especially early 60’s time period, it isn’t either of those things, but what it is is so simple that it gets overlooked, I think.

This has been my opinion all along, even as far as Elvis goes. To me Elvis Presley’s best records came after he got out of the Army. I mean, just his delivery. “Are You Lonesome Tonight,” and “Surrender” and “Little Sister,” “His Latest Flame,” “She’s Not You,” even some of the early movie songs like “Follow That  Dream” and “King Of The Whole Wide World” that I list among my all-time favorites. But, rock ‘n’ roll purists think that after 1957 there isn’t anything any good. I think this is so far off base it’s laughable.

BV: Unbelievable. He was fired up again. You’re right, just try to write one of those songs.

Listening to a lot of the material on Wouldn’t Change A Thing, it is about having a broken heart, losing your girlfriend, your wife, whatever. There’s a lot of sadness expressed in the lyrics, even in the songs that you wrote, and I’m wondering whatever happened to that cheerful Bobby Vee? But then I thought, go back and listen to the lyrics to “Run To Him,” “Stayin’ In,” “Take Good Care Of My Baby,” and “Please Don’t Ask About Barbara.”

BV: Never got the girl!

You never got the girl, but you always managed to put a happy face on all of these break-up songs!

BV: Yeah, “Breakin’ Up Is Hard To Do” … Neil Sedaka, boy I’ll tell ya. You know, Del Shannon was different. You could hear the anger in his voice — “Runaway,” “Hats Off To Larry.” But yeah, it was interesting. “Take Good Care Of My Baby” with it’s little pizzicato strings …

When did you first run into Del Shannon?

BV: The very first time I met him I was doing a “Murray The K Show” out in New York at the Brooklyn Paramount, and I was sharing a room with Dion. Those shows, we did five shows a day, and they would run a rock ’n’ roll movie in between the shows, clear out the theater, whatever. People could come and stay all day if they wanted to, and you know, 12 acts on the show. Dion and I were sharing a dressing room, and we were playing Chinese checkers. There was a cot in the room and some chairs. We had the Chinese checkers on the bed. Dion was sitting in a rocking chair. I remember this vividly. He had a cup of tea in his hand, and Del came into the room, like he always did. I’d never met him before. “Hey boys, Del Shannon, they put me in the room with you,” and he went over and sat down on the bed and the marbles went everywhere. Dion rocked the chair back and tea went flying, and that was Del Shannon, that’s the way he was. He was just a bull in a China shop, but just a great heart and boy, I’ll tell ya, it just killed me when he died. We were such good friends and had such great history together.

You did a lot of shows with Del Shannon in the ’60s, and many more over time.  For this album you ended up picking out two of the most obscure Del Shannon songs. “That’s The Way Love Is” was the follow-up to “Sue’s Gotta Be Mine” on Berlee from ’64. It fits so well into your album, just because of the way you do it. And “Cry Myself To Sleep,” it’s got that doo-woppy swing that surely was intentional.

BV: I’ve got the single. It’s on my jukebox. He had a lot of great pop sensibilities, too, but the thing that was different about him was the fact that he made … and I would call his songs pop songs cause a lot of them were, but he always had the rock ’n’ roll edge to it ’cause that’s how he made the records.

He made them with a rhythm section, with Max Crook doing the keyboard thing, and he was a lot of both. He had a lot of pop sensibilities, and he was a rocker. Del was such a good writer. He was really a solid writer. “Cry Myself To Sleep” is almost a Dion song. I could hear Dion doing that in the “Runaround Sue” shuffle kinda thing. Brian Hyland did the harmony vocals with me on it as he did on both of them. I always liked both of those songs. There was going to be a tribute CD coming out, and I spoke to Dan Bourgoise who was Del’s manager and best friend. I speak with him from time to time, and he said he was going to do a tribute CD and would I like to contribute a song. I said, “I’d love to,” and we just went in and recorded the songs. That CD never came to fruition. It may at some point, so that’s why we did it, did it my style.

“Keep Searchin’” is one of the great rock ’n’ roll records of all time.

BV: Four-on-the-floor, four-on-the-floor, and then he’d do a nice song like “Kelly,” a flip-side. He felt a lot of pressure about writing, and he wanted to write … he said one time (laughs), “God it must be nice just to get all these Carole King songs. I gotta take a month off and go sit and drink beer in my garage and try to crank out some tunes (laughs).”

Or get in a fight with my girlfriend.

BV: Right!

How about a real live album from the ’60s? Was there ever an entire show recorded? I have Live On Tour.

BV: No, not actually.

Jumping to The New Sound From England … Did you ever do, in ’64, “I’ll Make You Mine” or “She’s Sorry” live?

BV: I did “She’s Sorry” for a while, because that was the A-side. Never really did much from that album. That was an odd deal. It was just a theme album. I went to England and came home thinking, “Let’s do this.” Because of the impact of The Beatles, I got horrible reviews on it in England. I’m a singer, and we did The 30 Hits Of The ’60s and Meet The Ventures and … Crickets, it was a theme and I enjoyed doing it cause I’m a fan of The Beatles too, but it was, you know, really would have been better off left alone.

But there are a couple of other great songs on the album that you wrote. “Don’t You Believe Them” … I thought that album was a really great EP …

BV: (Laughs) I wish you would’ve screened it for me back then. I had so much product out, and like the … Live! On Tour a thing I wish had never come out. If I had to remove another one out of my collection it would be The New Sound From England. “Don’t You Believe Them” had a good feel to it. It was less … kinda had that sound but wasn’t imitating the background vocals.

They did that to The Yardbirds, too. They took a really cool, complete live show and added bullfight cheers and stuff to it because there wasn’t enough live audience sound. They did that to you and a lot of people in the ’60s, fake live albums, and they never work.

BV: Bad idea!

I Remember Buddy Holly —I’ve always thought that “Raining In My Heart” and some of those tracks were recorded and sounded better than the originals.

BV: They were certainly well-done. I was in England on tour around 1996, ’97, and I don’t think I’ve done an interview in which the Buddy Holly subject didn’t come up. And I was thinking about the 40th Anniversary and what I would like to do about that. I had gone to the musical “Buddy,” and the song I walked out of there with was “Blue Days, Black Nights.”
I hadn’t heard the song for a long time and was surprised they had put it in since it’s so obscure. Couldn’t get it out of my head and usually when that happens, I start singing it myself. I thought, “I’m gonna go back to refresh my memory,” and when I went back and started  listening to his catalog, all sorts of things popped out.

That’s where “Tell Me How” came out. I listened to “Tell Me How,” and I thought, well this is a sad song sung with a happy face, as you said, and turned that around and enjoyed doing that. And then I took some liberties. If you listen to “Words Of Love” and “Listen To Me,” we were talking about groupings of songs. Songwriters tend to write songs in groups. Those songs were written about at the same time, and they’re really the same song. So I turned them into the same song. I go from “Words Of Love” into “Listen To Me” back to “Words Of Love” back to “Listen To Me,” and it’s just another way of presenting this wonderful, really sensitive side of Buddy Holly.

In the ’60s were you living in California or were you still in the Midwest?

BV: I was living in California. I moved out there. I had an apartment out there when I was 16 years old, but I spent so much time on the road, and I was out there really because when I came back to nest somewhere, it made sense to be out there because when I wasn’t on the road I was recording. So that was the purpose there, but I still considered myself a resident of Fargo. My parents lived in Fargo. I bought them a house, opened a little restaurant for my dad, and that’s when I really felt like I was at home, when I was back in Fargo. But I moved out there permanently in 1963, got married in ’63 and always came back to the Midwest in the summertime — never missed a summer. [We] came back to Detroit Lakes (Minn.). We had a lake cabin there, and we did that for 35 years until we moved back to the Midwest permanently. We live on a lake here.

When you were living in California, did you have much contact with the counter-culture as the years went by and the music scene changed?

BV: Only by association. My producer … after Snuffy left Liberty and went out  on his own, I worked with a couple of different guys, most  successfully  with Dallas Smith. Dallas produced  “Come Back When You Grow Up” and “Maybe Just Today,” “Sweet Sweetheart” and he had recorded the Hour Glass, the Allman Brothers original stuff, the original band in L.A. And the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, he was involved with them initially. I could see the picture changing. Being in L.A., being in Hollywood, you’ve been out there, you get a pretty close-up look at what’s going on … Frank Zappa, I’d finish my session and Frank Zappa and his guys would be waiting in the lobby and they’d go in to do their stuff. always late at night.

Were they still holding to these schedules, you’ve got a three-hour session and at 4 o’clock you’ve gotta get out?

BV: It was changing at that time. We worked at several different studios: Gold Star, which was a great studio; Sound Recorders … Liberty Studios was a studio they owned on Robertson, that’s where I cut “Come Back When You Grow Up.” So we went to several places, and then  it got to be Sunset Sound, and you’d say we want to come in and do some stuff and they  would say  the last two weeks we have [are] totally booked up, and we’d say, “Really, who’s there?” And they’d say something like “Paul McCartney is in. He’s rented the studio for a week to write,” so that was changing.

From the outside looking in it looked like people were going in and using relentless amounts of studio time. Everybody was so indulgent  throughout  that  whole  period of time. It’s probably even worse now.

BV: Except the whole studio scene has changed so much.  We’ve got a terriffic studio here in St. Joe, Minn., where our office is. We do live recording in there, and it’s a fun place.  You know, the equipment, you’d go out and spend quarter of a million dollars on recording equipment. Today you can buy it for $15,000.

You can have an entire studio and carry it in a suitcase, practically. Since you’re recording digitally you can make a lot of a little.

BV: Exactly, so then the only requirement is that you know what you’re doing. And I think that separates a lot of stuff.

After “Come Back When You Grow Up” you were all over radio again with “Beautiful People.”

BV: There were two versions of it. The guy who wrote the song, Kenny Odell … I think mine was 37 in the Top 40, and Kenny’s was 38, something like that. They basically went up the charts together and fell out together. It was really disappointing for me, ‘cause I didn’t need to put that song out, ‘cause I was just coming off of “Come Back When You Grow Up,” which turned out to be a major hit for me.  Dallas Smith produced the song, and basically he said, just listen to this, and I said I don’t want to cover the song. I started listening to it and really just kind of fell in love with it; [I] thought well let’s just do it, and if it works it works and if it doesn’t, no harm done.

Having forgotten about the Kenny Odell version, yours is the one I remember. My impression was that it was an affirmation that even in the flower-power counter culture era that Bobby Vee optimism could translate into a hit record.

BV: It’s true. “Come Back When You Grow Up,” another example. I mean it was so far out of its era, and again I loved the song. It was just a nice piece of material. It was a hit out in Green  Bay, Wis., and Billings, Montana. I remember all of this stuff, Charlotte, and Spartanburg, S.C. A distributor sold  5,000 copies of it, and on the strength of that we took out an ad in Billboard magazine and thank God for disc jockeys that read Billboard, ‘cause they wanna play hits. That’s what they’re looking for, and so then we reissued the record a second time, and by the end of the year, it had spent all it’s energy, but it was the biggest record I ever had sales-wise.

So “Come Back…” was actually issued twice. It was a hit in small markets and then went national?

BV: There are different B-sides. That’s the only way you’d figure that out. The first was my song, nice little record, “I May Be Gone.” The second was a theme song for a Chuck Conners television show. .

I didn’t know this. Record collectors love this stuff, Bobby!

BV: I really kind of shot myself in the foot. It was nice to have a theme song especially for television, ’cause it goes on and on, and it was a nice little record, but the series failed. They had like three shows, and it was all over with.

If you can indulge my attempted analysis for a moment, going back and listening to all of the Snuff Garrett era stuff and all the big hits, I think you can chart a sonic progression. Ozzie Nelson was a big part of the Rick Nelson records, how they sounded. The drums are there, but mostly what you’re hearing are high hat and snare drum. You don’t even really hear cymbal crashes or anything. The bass drum is almost non-existent. Ozzie used to say that he did that on purpose because AM radios and TV speakers would just be flustered by a bass drum plugging along. He didn’t care about that. He wanted the vocals out front. Analyzing the hits on Liberty, sure enough the bass drum sort of isn’t there, yet there’s all kinds of swing, all kinds of rhythm, and it’s coming out of the bass guitar, the guitar, the vocals and then the percussive sort of orchestration, but usually there isn’t really a rock drummer going on there. Even [with] the Elvis Sun records, the rhythm is driven by the percussion on the instruments, not a drummer. Then Snuffy comes along doing the same thing only taking it bigger with kettle drums and strings pushing things. Then  Phil Spector with three of everything as loud as possible. Then Bob Crewe producing the Four Seasons, and there at the beginning of “Walk Like A Man” and stuff like that is the biggest drum kit I’d ever heard up until then. By that time here comes Motown and then it’s Katy  bar the door. It’s big drums, big bass guitar, and The Beatles come along and eveything is as loud as possible. But if you listen to all of those records, not a single one of them suffers from the variations on that theme. You don’t miss anything that’s not present on the earlier records because the rhythm is so strong on all of them, and it’s right down to the artist and the producer I think.

BV: That’s right! Eddie Cochran, too. You’ve got a good progression there! If you take the walking bass out of “Devil Or Angel,” it’s a different song; that’s how important that was. On the early records that I did with Liberty we also used a click-bass. That was something that was popular for a period of time, so the six-string Danelectro [is] playing along with and mixed in with the stand-up bass just to give it some edge, because you can’t get edge out of a stand-up bass unless you’re slapping it. It’s not obvious on “Devil Or Angel,” but if you listen to the album, or Brenda Lee, when she recorded “I’m Sorry,” that’s a pretty predominant part in there. You’re right. That’s one of the observations I made, when I do that “Party Doll” thing on the box, it comes from that same way that you just described, because it’s not a drum, it’s a box! It’s a sound. When Elvis is doing “Don’t Be Cruel,” it feels huge, but it’s a guy tapping on a guitar! You know? When Eddie Cochran goes “dun-dun-du-du-du” (imitates “Summertime Blues” rhythm), it’s just balls to the wall, and you think, “Wow.” But when you listen to it, it’s a bass guitar, and it’s a high hat and that’s it! And that was the charm of that time period. That’s the reason that I do that “Party Doll” thing, because when I was a kid I became aware of sounds. And it was fun. It was fun to listen to records and hear sounds. It was part of my training, part of your training, too!

That’s it! “That’s All Right” — there’s not a drum in the building, but it just chugs right along! The Beatles did that, too. They would go out of their way to find things that they could put on their records that were just sounds. It goes right back to them being fans and fanatics about their records, listening and analyzing — hand claps and such. I always found it to be thrilling to listen to a record and figure out what’s going on.

BV: And why’d  they do that. Why would you have a guy tap on a guitar and call that a drum? They’re maybe rehearsing the song and the drummer or whoever is just tapping the guitar …

…and the engineer says, ‘Let’s do it just like that!” One big exception I found recently was listening to “The Night Has A Thousand Eyes” in stereo. The drums are just  cookin’. He’s just rockin’! Was that Earl Palmer?

BV: Yeah, that was Earl Palmer. You’re right about the mixes. They were kind of impressions, rather than trying to catch everything. It was sort of impressions. The lead vocal was always on top. You try to capture it all, but sometimes even now the videos that are being played, you can see the drummer playing like crazy, but you’re not getting all of that sound, because the mix is an impression. It’s like a painting. There’s always a focal point and balance. Your eye comes to a place that it’s meant to go, and music is basically the same.

That’s a really great term, “impression”, because the impression is that everything was big, but in reality it’s not.

BV: I went down to Nashville and stayed at Jerry’s house (Jerry Allison, The Crickets). We were sittin’ around. I was going to do “Love’s Made A Fool Of You,” and we went through that a couple of times. Somebody went for a cup of coffee, and by the time they came back we were doing “Blue Days Black Nights,” not planning on recording it. But the producer came in, and he said, “Why don’t you just do that? It sounds great.” We were in the living room and the studio there, [and] he said, “Let’s just go outside. It’s a great day and let’s set it up on the porch,” and we recorded it outside. It was Joe B. with his stand-up bass. Jerry Allison was playing brushes on a box, my son Robbie was doing a double part with Sonny Curtis on the guitar, and it was all done acoustic, and it was all done live. I never thought about the live part of it until it was over with. It was funny. We did several takes on it, and we stopped because there was an airplane, or the cow was mooing, or something. I wouldn’t trade that part of my life for anything. Being able to go in and record … even the Soma stuff, it was done live, [and] it was a great experience. I didn’t think about it as anything special, but as time marched on that in a way has become lost.

It’s completely lost. You have to find somebody who is old enough to forget what they have learned since, ignore the technology and forget about it.

BV: You’ve got to be able to “hear” it, when engineers are doing stuff like that, but the baggage we carry along these days would say, “You can’t do that. There’s gonna be dissonance and stuff coming back at you that you don’t want …’

You were with Liberty for a very long time. Apparently it was a good economic relationship. Whereas a lot of ’50s and ’60s artists tell horror stories about lost royalties and not getting credit where credit is due, apparently you avoided that sort of pitfall with Liberty …

BV: I mean who really knows if they’re getting all their royalties, but I was fortunate enough that I had enough records that got played, and I really had nothing to complain about. In fact, I never did an audit on them. I could’ve. I did get royalties, and when the CD world opened and the records started selling all over again, that’s been wonderful for me. I mean most of my stuff has originated in England, and the reason they did that was I got paid a half a royalty in England. That was pretty common in those days, whatever your deal was… even today things for the last 10 to 12 years have originated in England.

Do you control the rights to your masters?

BV: I don’t. I don’t. Talk about a journey! I’ve been treated so fairly by EMI and even today, I talk to people at EMI as if I’m a current entity but I’m not. All of the albums have been reissued except for the 30 Hits Of The ’60s. I mean my catalog is so deep, it’s been nice to see all that stuff come out. There aren’t any hits on there … well there are hits. They’ve just fired all their ammo.

What we need is a Bear Family Bobby Vee vinyl box set with 100-page book!

BV: We did so much recording, doing four albums a year, which was kind of unheard of, too. A lot of the stuff we never went back to. We’ve got all the stuff. We’re in the process of mixing it; they sent us all of the tracks. We certainly won’t use everything, but we’ll use a good portion of it ‘cause a lot of them are good!

I’ve listened to your music my entire life it seems, even though we’re only three years apart in age. As a kid, Bobby Vee, Del Shannon, Ricky Nelson … these were my heroes. You were one of them. After being such a huge star in the early ’60s, with some of the biggest records ever, did you or ever wake up and wonder, “Good heavens what’s happening? Is it all over?”

BV: I’ll tell ya, I’ve never really had those thoughts. What happened for me, as I went through the ’60s and music was changing, I was down in Australia playing a club down there. I was there for three weeks, and I was playing with charts and a 14-piece band — horns and everything. I had gone through the circuit in Canada and done the same thing, and what I realized while I was down there was how much I hated it. I just wasn’t having any fun. I’m a pretty simple guy, and fun enters a lot into the picture, good times. Music has been such a joy ride for me, when I started out, with “Susie Baby,” playing with my brother and the Shadows. And I just wasn’t having a good time, and I didn’t quite know what to do about it, but I knew I didn’t want to go out on the road and work like that.

I had a contract with United Artists at that time, and I had an income coming in, and I had had a nice career and had saved some money. And I was thinking about what would it take for me to find the joy and the energy I had when I was 15 or 16 years old, which is really impossible. I thought about the fun I had in those days, writing songs and playing, and it was so much fun, you know. You can relate to that. I started writing songs, and I wrote an album called Nothing Like A Sunny Day, and it’s all my influences. Those are country, rock ‘n’ roll and pop, and the country part of it has some folk overtones. The album wasn’t successful, but [it] got some great reviews. 1971 it came out I think, ‘71, ‘72. In fact, just a few years ago I picked up a Rolling Stone book from one of the book stores in town, and it was listed in the Top 100 overlooked album, and there was a nice write-up about it, and I thought, “Well, that’s great.” But what it (the album) did for me was it reconnected me to where I came from, and that place in me that was just doing it for the joy of it. It was a real important time in my life, and from there I hired a band from Memphis and went out on the road, and what I’ve always enjoyed the most was working with a rhythm section.

Did you ever think about doing something else? Like, well I’m going to be a producer, I’m gonna sell shoes, or I’m going to do something other than this?

BV: I did some producing. Nothing of any consequence, just a few bands I took into the studio and recorded, all the way back to the early ’60s, because I love being in the studio. [I'm] much more comfortable being in the studio than actually performing.

by  Craig Moore