The Best Doo Wop Club On The Net
The Doo Wop Cafe is dedicated to preserving the best music there ever was ... vocal group harmony of the 1950s. 
We also love "Oldies" of all kinds and R&B. 
But, most of all, we believe in having fun along the way !  Come and join us.


Written by Billy Vera for Rhino's Doo Wop Box III set

"Celebrity Doo Wop Picks"

Let me tell you something about the record business. When a record sells, everybody takes bows. You'll see guys with their pictures in the trades, saying how they "always knew, right from the start" that this or that act or song or record was "gonna go all the way to the top." Bullshit, I say. Next time you open up your Billboard and see one of these record execs grinning at you on page 4, taking credit for somebody's success, you just remember what ol' B.V. told you. The common knowledge in the record business is that doo wop doesn't sell, except to an "aging demographic" of former '50s greasers or collectors who never set foot in a contemporary record store, don't even own a CD player, and want this stuff only on original label 45s.

They think doo wop isn't hip enough for the trendy crowd they're trying to sell to. They're afraid their cool friends will laugh if they put out an album without hip credentials or, God forbid, without a guitar player! Those A&R people will tell you, "Doo wop freaks all write letters and cry the blues about why we don't release that stuff, but they wouldn't buy it if we did put it out." Well, here we are with a third box set of doo wop favorites, when nobody ever thought there'd be a market for even one. Marketing geniuses tend to play it safe, to take the easiest, most obvious route. If you've ever wondered why you hate the music you hear on the radio these days, you can thank those guys with their marketing degrees and their half-baked theories about what "the public" will respond to.

You proved all those "geniuses" wrong. You bought enough copies of the first Doo Wop Box  to earn it an RIAA certified gold record. That's a lot of box sets, Johnny, and at 70 bucks a pop too. As usual, you proved them wrong. We have received numerous letters from fans of the first two box sets, including many from music industry celebrities, who we found to be very knowledgeable about doo wop. We thought it would be interesting to ask these folks to name their favorite doo wop records and to tell us why they chose them. This disc features their picks, and, where possible, we've included notes from the celebrities about their selections.* (Just so you don't think that we take the opinions of celebrities more seriously than yours, we have also incorporated some of your suggestions on this volume and on The Doo Wop Box II). 

Tim Hauser, of The Manhattan Transfer, has been a fan of doo wop all his life and would probably be happiest singing on a street corner for the rest of it. Tim was kind enough to not only give us his list but also to take the time to scribble us a paragraph on each one: "Our Love Will Never End," by The Avons: "I first heard this record one morning in the early summer of 1956 on The Jack Walker Show on WOV. It literally knocked my socks off. The driving effect of the background vocals excited me to no end. The sax solo is King Curtis' first effort as a session soloist. The falsetto at the end provides another thrill, just when you thought it was all over." 

"I Belong To You," by The Fi-Tones Quintette: "The term doo wop is the name ascribed to street-corner vocal group harmony. I have always believed that it came from this one recording--it's so obvious. The recording has a particularly haunting quality, which derives from the background harmonies and the sound of the electric guitar. Lowe Murray's lead is very laid-back, with an air of detachment, that only adds to the effect. This recording is probably one of the last of the melancholy ballads that were so prevalent in Harlem in the early '50s." 

East and West Coast doo wop can be so different from each other that the effect can be jarring. I can just see fist fights breaking out between factions declaring that the music of the other is simply not doo wop. From the West we have Dave and Phil Alvin of Downey, California's '80s roots rock band The Blasters. Rhino A&R man James Austin cut his teeth at the Alvin brothers' house, digging old records. The Alvin boys' cousin Donna gave them records and a 45-rpm record player that could be used in the car. What could be more Californian? Dave's first choice is The Colts' 1957 recording of "Sheik Of Araby," a throwback to The Ravens' '40s sound. At the beginning, you'll hear the group recite names of popular DJs from around the country: "Ol' H.H."--that is, Hunter Hancock; Huggie Boy; and, in an obvious plea for airplay, Moondog, aka Alan Freed.

The Honey Bears' "One Bad Stud" shows what producer/songwriters Jerry Leiber & Mike Stoller were doing to contribute to the invention of rock 'n' roll in 1954. But for the lyrics about booze and getting arrested--which the team would clean up on subsequent records by The Coasters, Elvis, and others--this could be considered a full-blown rock 'n' roll record. Phil likes the guitar player's one-note riff under Gil Bernal's tenor sax solo. 

Dave says he loved The Cadets' "Wiggie Waggie Woo" ever since he found it in a thrift store on an LP under The Cadets' other name, The Jacks. Lead singer Aaron Collins recalls recording the tune during the group's stay at Harlem's Apollo Theatre, which would account for the sax solo by New York sessionman Sam "The Man" Taylor, instead of L.A.'s Maxwell Davis, who usually did the honors on Modern Records. 

When Rhino boss Richard Foos and A&R man James Austin were brainstorming about celebrities to ask for their favorite doo wop records, they came up with rock 'n' roll pioneers Jerry Leiber & Mike Stoller. I have to confess I nudged them toward one of their own, The Coasters' "Zing! Went The Strings Of My Heart," a tune I remember hearing some of the better street-corner groups try to tackle. Jerry said, "The Coasters were the act we had the most fun recording, and they always wanted to sing a class ballad, so we let 'em." Regarding "Stay Awhile," the flip side of The Clovers' "Love Potion No. 9," Mike Stoller says, "This is our favorite because it sounds so little like a doo wop record." How's that for honesty?

Comedian George Carlin came of age on the western edge of Harlem during the early years of the vocal group music later known as doo wop and often stood outside Bobby Robinson's 125th Street record store, listening to the R&B music coming through the outdoor speakers. He writes the following: "I have always been thankful that I was raised in New York City on the edge of Harlem. In 1950, when I was 13 years old, I discovered rhythm & blues, in particular the close-harmony singing groups. For about five years, I was able to enjoy the magic of this music before the white music industry took it over and completely diluted it, calling it rock 'n' roll. By the way, the term doo wop was unheard-of at that time and was applied later, retroactively, once again by the white music industry.  "But for a while, as I grew through my adolescence, I was able to dance and make out to this wonderful music that I heard all over my neighborhood. After growing up, in my thirties, I was able to identify and collect 263 of the actual songs I had experienced as a teenager, including some by solo artists. I submitted a list of 20 of my favorites to Rhino for this collection, and while the ones you hear here are not my Top 5 (other celebrities got to them before me), they were listed among my Top 20. "I hope you're making out as they play." (George used to listen to my radio show and occasionally phoned in to thank me for playing a particular favorite. He once made me a tape of all 263 of the songs he mentions above and, I'll tell you, the man has taste. I only wish we could have included a few more of his picks, like the Five Willows' "My Dear Dearest Darling," or The Harptones' "I'll Never Tell." George, my man, you are deep.)

I've been told that Mission: Impossible's Greg Morris was a member of The Coronets, whose atmospheric "Nadine," the first of George's picks mentioned here, was played incessantly by Alan Freed when he was still a Cleveland disc jockey, thanks in no small part to the fact that his name appears as the tune's sole songwriter. "Oh Where," by Harlem's The Vocaleers, was one of George's main make-out tunes. I am always impressed by the fact that George wasn't just one of the guys who discovered this music belatedly down in the subway at Slim's Times Square Records; he was digging this stuff when it was new!

And what can one say about "My Girl Awaits Me," by Philly's Castelles? Such a wonderfully strange sound, one of the strangest elements of which is the singing of teen lead George Grant. The record, by the way, was produced by future '60s soul meister Jerry Ragavoy, who would go on to do the honors on soul classics by Garnett Mimms, Irma Thomas, and Howard Tate.

Peter Bergman of the Firesign Theatre comedy group grew up in Cleveland, Ohio, during the time Alan Freed was broadcasting there as The Moondog. Peter remembers Freed playing "Rollin' Stone" by The Marigolds at that time. "That record made me see that being funny could be cool too," says Bergman. The Marigolds were formed at the Tennessee State Penitentiary and led by Johnny Bragg, who had also been a member of The Prisonaires, of "Just Walkin' In The Rain" fame. "Rollin' Stone" was covered by the Cadets, Eddie Fontaine, and The Fontane Sisters.

My own picks were hard. I tried to come up with things that are great but are less likely to be found on other CD compilations. There are a lot of wonderful doo wop records that are already out there in the digital domain, and I hoped I could come up with a couple that haven't been reissued to death.

Tim Hauser tells me that Eddie & The Starlights recorded their classic "To Make A Long Story Short" in the last few minutes of a session for a group Tim was singing with in the late '50s. He says that producer Al Browne asked whether Tim's group minded if these other guys used their remaining studio time. I don't know if the holes in Eddie's pants had anything to do with his emotional performance, but the lead singer managed to turn in one with the greatest sincerity that day. This song was one my little local group used to warm up to. It had that call-and-answer format, like that of "Please Say You Want Me," "Oh What A Nite," and "Let It Please Be You."

The only time I ever heard "Ding Ding Dong" by The Jive Tones on the air was on Jocko Henderson's afternoon television dance party on Channel 13 in New York. Again, it's not one of those records that pop up anywhere. Whoever was running ABC-Paramount's Apt subsidiary sure had a good ear for vocal group records. Besides the label's one giant hit, "Little Star" by The Elegants, they purchased a number of terrific masters from small indie labels.

The Revalons went to the same school as Norman Fox & The Rob Roys: George Washington High school, on the western edge of Harlem. The two groups also shared the same producer, the little-known Don Carter, who had also supervised sessions by The Heartbeats, when they were on Roulette. "Dreams Are For Fools" is reminiscent of The Rob Roys' two hits.

In looking over these selections by our celebrity doo wop fans, it is interesting to see how, where, and when they came up has much to do with their choices. George Carlin's upbringing in early '50s Morningside Heights (or, as he likes to say, West Harlem), informs his picks as much as the Alvin brothers' coming to this music when it was already "oldies," and the records were to be found in the basements of old record stores and thrift shops. Carlin heard the music when it was new and shared the joy of discovery with his friends, right when the music was being created. The Alvins' pursuit of these sounds took a little more courage, as their contemporaries were into entirely different things. Yet both listened to music that was "outside" of what was then popular. This outside status is one of the things that marks the doo wop fiend. We could care less what the mass public goes for. As far as we're concerned, they're lames. Fifty million Frenchmen can't be right.

--Billy Vera