Welcome to the first Big Enchilada episode of 2015. The Big Enchilada only wants to be your friend, So sit back and enjoy this friendly rock 'n' roll. We won't hurt you. Honest.
(Background Music: Beat Party 1 by Richie & The Squires)
The Thing That Wouldn't Leave by The Electric Mess
Chemtrailer Trash by Churchwood
A Yellow Mellow Hardtrop by Ray Johnson & The Bystanders
Make Some Time with You by John Schooley
Bird Brain by Scovilles
Trouble Hurricane by The Grannies Two Lovely Black Eyes by Charles Coborn
Friday, January 9, 2015 KSFR, Santa Fe, NM Webcasting!
10 p.m. to midnight Fridays Mountain Time Host: Steve Terrell 101.1 FM
email me during the show! terrel(at)ksfr.org
The song is called "Two Lovely Black Eyes." It first appeared on the long out of print 1966 album Both Sides of Herman's Hermits. What made this album different was that on Side Two there were four songs that came from the Music Hall, which basically was a British cousin of American vaudeville. Music Hall started out around 1850 and lasted well into the 20th Century. Although it was considered rther corny by the time rock 'n' roll came around, its influences can be heard in certain songs by British invasion bands including The Beatles (think "When I'm 64"), The Kinks, The Bonzo Dog Band and even The Rolling Stones ("Something Happened to Me Yesterday")
And Herman's Hermits. One of their biggest hits, "I'm Henry the VIII I Am" came straight out of Music Hall, first recorded by Harry Champion in 1911.
Besides "Two Lovely Black Eyes," Both Sides included "The Future Mrs. 'Awkins," "Oh Mr. Porter," and "My Old Dutch."
Curiously, on the album the songwriting credits of all of these songs go to someone named Kenny Lynch. There was a British pop star by that name around that time (he recorded a cover of The Beatles' "Misery" before The Beatles recorded it.) I can't swear if he's the same Kenny Lynch claiming credit for these four songs.
Trouble is, all four of these were written by others.
Albert Chevalier wrote "The Future Mrs. 'Awkins" and "My Old Dutch." George and Thomas Le Brunn wrote "Oh Mr. Porter."
And "Two Lovely Black Eyes" was written in 1886 by Charles Coborn. He also first recorded it. (He actually recorded several versions, some of which with the chorus sung in several languages.)
Take a listen:
Coborn wrote the words, but he borrowed the melody from an older song called "My Nellie's Blues Eyes." Here's a version of that by Irish tenor Dennis Day.
But back to the lyrics:
The words Colson wrote in the 1880s are different that the ones Herman sang in the '60s. Colson sang about getting beat up in overheated political arguments.
Strolling so happy down Bethnal Green This gay youth you might have seen, Tompkins and I, with his girl between, Oh! what a surprise! I prais'd the Conservatives frank and free, Tompkins got angry so speedilee, All in a moment he handed to me, Two lovely black eyes! Next time, I argued I thought it best, To give the conservative side a rest. The merits of Gladstone I freely pressed, When Oh! what a surprise! The chap I had met was a Tory true, Nothing the Liberals right could do, This was my share of that argument too, Two lovely black eyes!
The moral you've caught I can hardly doubt Never on politics rave and shout, Leave it to others to fight it out, if You would be wise Better, far better, it is to let, Lib'rals and Tories alone, you bet, Unless you're willing and anxious to get, Two lovely black eyes! CHORUS: Two lovely black eyes! Oh! what a surprise! Only for telling a man he was wrong, Two lovely black eyes!
But in the version I've been carrying around in my head for almost 50 years, the singer got his black eyes from a jealous husband, then his own jealous wife.
Strolling with me mate down Petticoat Lane I fancied this bird, so I asked her her name Pointed to her husband - six foot two Oh, what a surprise Two lovely black eyes, two lovely black eyes Only for telling the man he was wrong, I got two lovely black eyes Strolling with the bird down Bethnell Green Suddenly find my wife I have seen Oh what a rumpus, oh what a din She blacked my eyes with the rolling pin (I got) Two lovely black eyes, two lovely black eyes Only for telling my wife she was wrong, I got two lovely black eyes Two lovely black eyes, two lovely black eyes Only for telling my wife she was wrong, I got two lovely black eyes Two lovely black eyes, oh what a surprise Only for telling the man he was wrong, I got two lovely black eyes Two lovely black eyes, oh what a surprise Only for telling my wife she was wrong, I got two lovely black eyes
CHORUS: Two lovely black eyes! Oh! what a surprise! (etc etc)
Maybe it was the mysterious Kenny Lunch who rewrote Coburn's song.
Roger Miller, one of my boyhood idols, who I got to meet as an adult, would have turned 79 on Jan. 2.
Like me, Miller grew up in Oklahoma (though he was born in Texas.) Erick, Okla. is where Roger spent much of his boyhood. And by the time he rose to fame in the mid 1960s, He was one third of my Holy Okie Trinity -- along with Mickey Mantle and Leroy Gordon Cooper, the first Okie in outer space.
I'm going to cheat a little bit and re-post something I wrote in this blog about 11 years ago.
I met Roger shortly after he moved to Santa Fe backstage at a Michael Martin Murphey concert at Paolo Soleri in the summer of 1980. Roger was the "surprise" guest.
It would have been the first time I'd seen him play since I saw him at Springlake amusement park in Oklahoma City, circa 1965. I was in sixth grade then. ... But it wasn't meant to be that night at Paolo Soleri in 1980. Roger came out on stage, said, "Hi, I live down the road aways," struck a chord -- and the rain came down. That's back when Santa Fe used to have a "monsoon" season. It rained so hard that the rest of the show was cancelled.
Roger at his home in Tesque, Autumn 1980
Photo by my late ex-wife Pam Mills
The next time he tried to perform around here was at the Downs of Santa Fe at a Barbara Mandrell show a couple of years later. It rained like hell that night too, but at least the stage was covered, so the show went on. I interviewed him for The Santa Fe Reporter shortly after the Paolo fiasco. ... For a couple of years in the early '80s, I ran into him and his wife Mary frequently. Once he introduced me to Dandy Don Meredith at the Shohko Cafe. But one of the biggest nights for my ego was when Roger Miller introduced me to Hank Thompson in the dressing room of The Line Camp in Pojoaque. "Steve grew up on Reno Street," Roger said, referring to an old Oklahoma City skid row.
All three of us laughed at that Okie in-joke.
And now you can laugh at Roger's amazing songs and his crazy wit.
This first one shows the magic of live television. (Notice Roger's reaction when the band blows a chord.)
Roger sings a couple of classics on Austin City Limits in the 1980s, introducing himself -- correctly -- as "probably one of the greatest songwriters to ever live."(I had to replace the original video I had here, which vanished from YouTube.)
And here's Roger and Dino. "No dirty numbers," he cautions Martin.
Little Jimmy Dickens is with the Bird of Paradise now.
The country star died Friday at the age of 94. To risk sounding hackneyed, he might have been small, but he was a true giant. The West Virginia native may be the last of his generation of hillbilly greats.
Like many of my generation, I first came to his music back in 1965, when he had a crossover hit with "May the Bird of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose." That's back when local radio stations like WKY in Oklahoma City would play hardcore country artists like Little Jimmy, Buck Owens and Johnny Cash alongside of The Beatles, The Supremes and Dean Martin.
But long before the "Bird of Paradise," my mom already was a fan. Little Jimmy was inducted into the Grand Ol' Opry since 1948.
While he was known for his comical lyrics and funny stage patter, some of his best songs, like "Sleep at the Foot of the Bed" tell stories of childhood poverty and hardships.
That also was the case with his first record "Take an Old Could Tater and Wait," in which he sings of his poor diet as a child: "That is why I look so bad and have these puny ways." It's almost a comical look at malnutrition. Unfortunately, this live video of "Old Cold Tate" doesn't allow embeds. But check it out and wait for his story about his friends Hank Williams at the end.
I couldn't say goodbye to Little Jimmy without posting this song:
