HARLEM VOCAL GROUPS: the 50s 
 by Billy Vera

In 1636 Dutch fur traders established, in the northern reaches of Manhattan Island, then a day’s trek from New Amsterdam at the island’s southern tip,  the village of Nieuw Haarlem.  Manhattan is largely a protrusion of granite, 13.4 miles long, 0.8 miles wide at its narrowest and 2.3 miles wide at its widest. The southern half of the island is almost solid granite, providing a strong foundation for the skyscrapers there.  The northern end is made up of softer soil, hills and flatlands (originally marshlands) more suited to lower, residential buildings.  In 1664 British battleships sailed into
the harbor of New Amsterdam.  Dutch settlers, unhappy with their governor,  Peter Stuyvesant, refused to fight and surrendered to the Duke of York, who,  in the time honored manner of conquerors all over the world, humbly renamed 
the place after himself, New York. 

For many years afterwards, Nieuw Haarlem, now Harlem, remained a village surrounded by farmlands and forested hunting land, as access to the growing city some ten miles to the south remained difficult. In the 1800’s a railway was built, bringing with it real estate speculators, who built lovely brownstones intended for the upper classes, many of whom took readily to this new suburban life.  Harlem’s wide, tree-lined streets, especially 7th Avenue, with its grass median dividing north and
southbound traffic, were the talk of nineteenth century New York.

Mid-century, Frederick Law Olmsted and architect Calvert Vaux created Central Park on 840 acres of land acquired by the city, via the concept of “eminent domain,” displacing some 1600 squatters and legitimate renters from the rocky, swampy terrain, which had to be filled in to create the fields and lakes we see today.  Central Park began its life as a playground for the city’s nouveau riche, with its lakes and woods, but eventually opened up to the rest of  the population.  In time, the park would form the southern boundary of Harlem.

Over the next several decades, the land speculators’ high hopes fell, as Harlem became overbuilt, albeit with shining examples of “modern” architecture, such as Strivers’ Row on 139th Street, designed by architect Stanford White.  The swampy “flats” were filled and even more unoccupied housing was built in this less desirable section in the middle of Harlem.

With the arrival of the subway in 1904, a mere five cents could take riders from downtown all the way to 145th Street, Harlem’s northern edge.  Houses which couldn’t be sold were divided into apartments and rented, at inflated prices, to “less desirable” elements, such as the Irish, Italians and  Negroes. These, combined with new black migrants from the rural South, caused no small concern among already established Negroes, who considered the newly-arrived Southerners to be “over
demonstrative riff-raff,” who were bound to cause an “epidemic of negrophobia.”  The first mostly black lowland section was around 7th Avenue, in the 130s and 140s.

There was soon much antagonism between the blacks and what they called the “Irish foreigners” who located west of 8th Avenue in an area known as Canary Island, where they formed the infamous Canary Island Gang to keep out any non-Irish ethnic groups.

Italians, mostly from the poorer and despised southern provinces of Calabria and Sicily, settled in the area east of 3rd Avenue, between 110th-125th Streets, soon known, derisively, as “Dago Harlem.”  During the 40s, 50s and early 60s, a street gang known as the Harlem Red Wings controlled this  turf, which included some of the greatest Italian cuisine in 
the Western Hemisphere at restaurants like Patsy’s and Rao’s . The Red Wings’ main rivals in East Harlem were the black Dragons and the Enchanters, along with the Puerto  Rican Viceroys.  They also fought vicious turf wars with two powerful Bronx  Italian gangs, the Golden Guineas and the multi-generational Fordham Baldies, of  which singer Dion DiMucci was 
a one-time member.

Eastern European Jews, much to the chagrin of the already established German Jews, who considered their Polish and Russian cousins to be the lowest of  the low, moved in large numbers up from the Lower East Side into the area of Central Harlem below 125th Street.  Future show-biz personalities, like Milton Berle, Walter Winchell, Edmund O’Brien and Burt Lancaster were born and bred in Harlem.

Oscar Hammerstein I built the Harlem Opera House to bring “the finest in entertainment to the finest people of New York.”  In 1913, the owners of  the Lafayette Theatre desegregated that venue, advertising that “Our Doors Are  Open To All.”  In 1934, Frank Schiffman would purchase the Apollo Theater, making it the premier showcase for black talent on earth.

As land prices fell, by 1917, once fancy homes turned into tenements and, by the 20s, Harlem had become the “Negro Capitol of the World” and 125th Street its main stem.  By the end of that decade, known as the Harlem Renaissance, the area would turn into a slum.

During the 30s, Puerto Rican immigrants moved into East Harlem and blacks moved north, along St. Nicholas Avenue, and south into Little Russia, even as literary rebels created a “vogue in all things Negro,” attracting well-to-do white slummers, looking for “exotic” and “primitive” “jungle thrills,” dancing the Charleston and the Black Bottom at gangster-run night 
clubs like the Cotton Club and Connie’s Inn, which featured bands like Cab Calloway and Duke Ellington.  While the
entertainment at the Cotton Club, including a chorus line of “Tall, Tan & Terrific” dancers, was all black, only whites were allowed to partake as customers. As with most fads, slumming ran its course and Harlem became pretty much an insular place, given to its own home-grown styles in music, dress and life in general.

While black Swing Era bands like those of Ellington and Jimmie Lunceford played at both white and black venues, others, like Erskine Hawkins, Buddy Johnson and Lucky Millinder worked mostly for their own people. Besides the famous Savoy Ballroom, "The Home of Happy Feet," dancing spots included the Audubon Ballroom at 3950 Broadway, between 165th and 166th Streets in Washington Heights and Rockland Palace at 155th and 8th Avenue.

As the big bands died out after the war, musicians formed smaller combos, the more intellectually minded following the be-bop innovation of Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker, while those of a more commercial bent went the jump route pioneered by Louis Jordan. The success of vocal groups like the Mills Brothers, the Ink Spots and the Delta Rhythm Boys inspired many singers to form similar groups of their own. One of these was the Ravens, formed in 1946 by two Harlem waiters, Warren Suttles and Jimmy Ricks. Before long, thanks to jukebox hits like "Write Me A Letter" and "Old Man River," not to mention the added attraction of Ricks's freakishly deep bass voice, the Ravens were headlining theaters throughout the country, inspiring, among others, Baltimore's teenaged Orioles who, in turn, gave hope to even younger singers.

Such groups soon began to come together in major cities all over the United States, but we shall limit our discussion here to this one culturally significant and influential area within New York City: Harlem of the 50s. Contrary to the mythology, few of these groups came directly out of the gospel tradition of the Baptist church. One of these few, and one of the earliest, came about quite by accident. Billy Ward, a black vocal coach with an office in midtown Manhattan, wished to start a group along the lines of the Ink Spots. After auditioning a young Harlemite named Clyde McPhatter and unable to get him to sing in the smooth, fey manner of the Ink Spots' Bill Kenny, Ward resigned himself to work with what he had, which turned out to be the very thing which the public would go for: Clyde's exciting, gospel-inflected tenor. With hit Federal records like "Do Something For Me," "Have Mercy Baby" and "Sixty Minute Man," led by bass vocalist Bill Brown, the Dominoes became a top drawing act...but nobody knew Clyde's name, as it was "Billy Ward & his Dominoes" on the marquee.

McPhatter eventually left the overbearing Ward and was picked up by Atlantic Records, who encouraged him to form his own act from fellow Harlem gospel singers, brothers Gerhart and Andrew Thrasher and Bill Pinkney, thus establishing the longtime franchise, the Drifters. Bill Brown and Clyde's friend Charlie White also defected from the Dominoes to form the Checkers, recording for Federal's mother label, King.

One of the few other gospel-styled groups from Harlem was the Du Droppers, from 149th Street near 7th Avenue, an older group who mimicked, and mocked, the Dominoes with 1952's "Can't Do Sixty No More" for record store owner Bobby Robinson's Red Robin label. The tune was covered two years later by the Dominoes themselves. The Du Droppers were quickly tapped by RCA Victor, for whom they scored nationally with "I Wanna Know."

But most of the younger Harlem groups took their inspiration, not from gospel singing, but from the very amateurishness of the Orioles as well as from one particular record by the Ravens, "Count Every Star," with a rare lead vocal by newer member Louis Heyward. What marked this record as a stylistic leap forward was the use of Ricks's bass in the role of a baritone sax juxtaposed against Maithe Marshall's "floating" falsetto tenor. The influence of this 1950 cult hit on black vocal group singing over the next forty years cannot be overstated.

The aforementioned Bobby Robinson and his brother Danny ran a record shop on Harlem's main stem, 301 W. 125th Street at the corner of 8th Avenue. From his vantage point at the cultural, and literal, center of Harlem, Bobby advised owners of various independent labels on his customers' likes and dislikes. With the growing popularity of vocal groups backed by small combos, the brothers decided they could now afford to put out a record of their own. For the first vocal group on their Robin label, Bobby chose five 13-14 year old boys from Resurrection Grammar School on 151st Street, lead singer Ray "Buddy" Wooten, Bip Bethea, Bobby Baylor, Monte Owens and Bobby Williams. These latter three would later form the nucleus of the Solitaires, but for now were known as the Mello-Moods. The boys were from Sugar Hill, one of Harlem's better neighborhoods, near the Colonial Housing Projects and the Polo Grounds,home of the New York Giants baseball team. Sugar Hill ran from 145th to 170th Streets and from Broadway  (Washington Heights) on the west to, on the east, high on a cliff overlooking the Harlem River, Edgecombe Avenue, long considered home to many of the Negro elite. Desegregation, which in the beginning was a cause for hope, later turned out to be a double-edged sword. As these"elite," the best and brightest Harlem had to offer, began to move into previously white-only neighborhoods, they left behind an underclass devoid of role models,where once doctors, lawyers and successful businessmen had been nearby to be seen and emulated. In time, the only role models for success would be dope dealers, pimps and basketball players. But, during the early 50s, there were role models a plenty and dreams of assimilation into the mainstream were still very much alive. For the Mello-Moods' first record, Bobby Robinson chose a song by Broadway composer Frank Loesser, "Where Are You (Now That I Need You)," a top 20 hit by both Doris Day and Frankie Laine from the1949 musical Red, Hot And Blue.The young Wooten sang the sophisticated lyric as though he knew what it meant and, with the help of Jerry Blaine's Cosnat Distributors, the record rose to #7 early in 1952. Unfortunately, the group was unable to follow up with another hit, either for Robinson or for their next, and final, recording affiliation, Prestige. Bobby Robinson had better sustained luck with his next teen group, Sugar Hill's the Vocaleers. While the group never made it to the national charts, he did put out four records by them, indicating sufficient sales. Their "Be True" and "Is It A Dream" made them local heroes. Tenor Herman Dunham a/k/a Herman Curtis later joined the Solitaires.

Vocaleers' lead Joe Duncan's younger brother, Roland Martinez, was a member of the Crystals/Opals, who recorded "Come To Me Darling" and "Oh But She Did" for Luna and Apollo, respectively. Roland was also a member of the great and unsung Vocaltones, also on Apollo, whose "Darling (You Know I Love You)" is a masterpiece of street singing, as is their "Walking With My Baby," recorded for George Goldner's Juanita label.

The Velvets, another Red Robin ballad group from the same neighborhood, were popular locally with "I" and "I Cried." Their influence was felt as far away as New Haven, where Fred Parris, later of the Five Satins, idolized them, eventually leading him to take the train down to Harlem to beg Robinson for a chance to record his group, the Scarlets. Velvets' lead singer Charles Sampson and future Valentine Carl Hogan would record as Charles & Carl for Red Robin. Bobby and Danny Robinson would later form more labels, Whirlin' Disc, Fury and Holiday, among them, recording still more Harlem groups, but more about that later.

Another local entrepreneur was Leonard "Flaps" Hanford from Tampa, Florida. Flaps, who lived in the Hotel Theresa, ran a shoe shine stand which was actually a numbers front where one Joel Turnero did a radio show as "Skip Layne." Hanford also dabbled in records, laundering his cash with labels like Chariot, Danice and After Hours, named for another of his sidelines, running after hours joints in side street tenements, where big, burly lookouts made things safe for the pimps and hustlers who gambled, drank and snorted cocaine inside. All of his sides by the Vibranaires, Vibes, Swallows and New Yorkers Five are big collectors items today.

115th Street's the Five Crowns brought new meaning to the word "amateurish." Seldom did any two members sing in tune with each other, yet they are legendary for a number of reasons. In mid-1952, the three Clark brothers, James "Poppa," John "Sonny Boy" and Claude "Nicky," along with Wilbur "Younkie" Paul and Dock Green, recorded their almost-hit "You're My Inspiration" for Rainbow. Label chief Eddie Heller then had the group cover both Jo Stafford's "Keep It A Secret" and Joni James's "Why Don't You Believe Me" for the R&B market and later, Melvin Smith's "I Don't Have To Hunt No More." After five failed Rainbow releases, the Five Crowns recorded "You Could Be My Love," the initial release on Hy Weiss's Old Town label. The street tune's melody was later picked up by the Harptones as "Life Is But A Dream," still later to be incorporated into the Chords' "Sh-Boom," which itself was covered and turned into a pop smash by Toronto's the Crew-Cuts. 

There is a comical story, told by Weiss, of how he conned Columbia a&r man Mitch Miller into covering "You Could Be My Love" with Lu Ann Simms of the Arthur Godfrey Show. For that one, see my earlier article in this magazine on cover versions. What makes the Crowns important is the fact that they were the fortunate group appearing at the Apollo the week 
Drifters manager George Treadwell fired his act en masse and hired the Crowns, who were by now Dock Green, Benny Nelson (Ben E. King), Charlie Thomas and Elsbeary Hobbs, to replace them.As this tale progresses, we shall see just how significant 115th Street becomes in terms of the sheer number of groups to whom it gave birth. 

In 1952, the Five Willows: Tony Middleton, Freddie Taylor, Richie Davis, John "Scooter" Steele and the Martin twins, Joe and Ralph, were rehearsing at the home of the twins' mother on 115th. She encouraged the semi-talented boys on the grounds that all that howling was better than seeing them join the street gangs which were becoming so prevalent (one black gang, the Crowns, vied with the Puerto Rican Sportsmen for control of the area around Stitt Junior High School). While nowhere as vicious as those of today, and without nearly the artillery, 50s gangs fought, or bopped, rumbled and jitterbugged, with sticks, chains, garrison belts with sharpened buckles, switchblade knives and, at the extreme, homemade zip-guns. They smoked marijuana, some shot or sold heroin, got caught and did time. Ask Johnny Brown, who sang on the corners with the Cadillacs before they recorded and later joined the Five Satins when Fred Parris was drafted, writing their song "Wish I Had My Baby,"which was also recorded by the Emanons. "I be-bopped with the gangs, sang on the corner, sold dope and went to prison before cleaning up my act," Brown recalls. "You remember my sister, Estelle; she backed you up with the Sweet Inspirations. She was a good kid." So, Puffy and his boys think they're doing something new. Anyway, back to the Willows. Mom pushed them to local Harlem entrepreneurs like Victor Allen, who recorded the group's local legend, "My Dear, Dearest Darling" on his Allen label, and Pete and Goldie Durain, who recorded them on their equally obscure Pee Dee label. Moving downtown, the group cut two more flops for Herald before hooking up with Morty Craft and his Melba label in 1956, where, with the help of a young Neil Sedaka on chimes, they recorded the street classic, "Church Bells May Ring." Lead singer Middleton went on to a modest career as a demo singer and worked in a few Broadway shows. Fans of hipster 
jazz vocals should seek out Tony's "Untouchable" on the Alto label.

One group whose vocal skills struck terror into rival groups was the Harptones, also from 115th Street. They often rehearsed at Wadley Jr. High School but in warmer weather held forth at St. Nicholas Park, between West 131st-145th Streets and Seventh Avenue and St. Nicholas Terrace along Amsterdam Avenue. Earl "Speedo" Carroll of the Cadillacs recalls, "Man, when the Harptones came to St. Nicholas Park to rehearse, the rest of us all ran to the other side! Those cats could croon." The Harptones, who had one of the finest lead singers ever in Willie Winfield and an exceptional songwriter in pianist Raoul J. Cita, won a 1953 Amateur Night contest at the Apollo Theater singing Fran Warren's 1947 hit, "A Sunday Kind Of Love," co-written by Louis Prima. It just so happened that in the audience was Monte Bruce, whose partners were Prima's onetime arranger, Morty Craft, and Leo Rogers, who'd been a partner in Prima's Robin Hood label. The three quickly formed the Bruce label--on which they would also later record former Prima's former female vocalist, Lily Ann Carol--and put out the Harptones' version of "Sunday...."

By now, there were a number of disc jockeys, including Dr. Jive, Pat the Cat, Ramon "The" Bruce, Danny "Catman" Stiles and, via tape from Cleveland broadcast on WNJR, Alan "Moondog" Freed, all in the New York area playing this new teen version of R&B on WLIB, WWRL, WOV and Newark's WNJR. Teenagers from Harlem and all over the metropolitan area would call in, requesting their favorites, many of which included young vocal groups. At house parties and church dances, kids would dance the Grind or the Fish to the slow ones and girls formed fan clubs, like the Cadillacs' Debs and show up wherever
their idols performed. The Harptones' Cita wrote ballads of such depth and feeling that even the toughest gang-banger could be driven to tears by their sheer beauty. "My Memories Of You," "I'll Never Tell," "Life Is But A Dream" and "Three Wishes" never made the national charts but will live on in the hearts of those who came of age in those times.

Other 115th Street groups include the Keynotes on Apollo (1954), the Emanons on Josie and Gee (1955), Ernest Harriston and the Bop-Chords  (1957), who cut their street opus, "Castle In The Sky" for Danny Robinson's Holiday label, also home to the notoriously thuggish Ladders, who lived upstairs from the Willows' Mrs. Martin and were managed by Les Cooper. Cooper, a member of the Empires/Whirlers, also was connected with the Charts, another tough guy vocal group, who recorded the two-sided smash, "Deserie"/"Zoop," as well as "Why Do You Cry," as good an expression of a lover's confusion as you'll ever hear. Cooper would later record the local hit instrumental, "Wiggle Wobble."

If that's not enough, 115th Street also gave us the Channels, who used a radically different style of three-part harmony lead, backed by booming bass and the soaring falsetto tenor of Earl Lewis, who would then enter with his powerful lead on songs like "The Closer You Are," "That's My Desire" and "My Love For You Will Never Die."

Back to Sugar Hill and 142nd Street between 7th and Lenox, where we find Bill Davis, Harold Major, Gerald Hamilton and lead Sonny Norton, better known as those one hit wonders, the Crows, whose "Gee" crossed over to the pop charts in 1953, leading many to consider it the first rock'n'roll record. Singer/pianist Viola Watkins had given the boys their first break, using them as backup on her Jubilee sides under the name the Four Notes. They also sang with her on Rama, a cover of Georgia Gibbs's "Seven Lonely Days," on the same session at which she played piano for them on "Gee." For her trouble, she was given writer's credit, until her name magically morphed into alleged Gambino mob associate Morris Levy's on later pressings. None of the Crows' follow-ups sold and they broke up within the year.

A much happier story, in terms of longevity at least, is that of the Cadillacs, who hailed from 131st and 133rd, between 7th and 8th Avenues. Originally known locally as the Carnations and managed by Lover Patterson, who'd managed the Five Crowns, Earl Carroll, Bobby Phillips, Buddy Brooks, LaVern Drake and Earl Wade of the Opals were the most colorful of all the rock'n'roll vocal groups, thanks in part to the choreography of Charles Atkinson AKA Cholly Atkins. Cholly was half of the tap dance team of (Honi) Coles & Atkins, one of the finest and smoothest teams in all vaudeville. He eventually went to work for Motown, where he taught Berry Gordy's acts how to dance on stage. For bookings, Lover Patterson took his group to Shaw Artists, where he was intercepted by a secretary named Esther Navarro. Navarro got them a contract with Jerry Blaine's subsidiary Josie label and their first 1954 release was Patterson's "I Wonder Why" backed with "Gloria," a half-remembered song the group had been singing on the block. "Gloria," written by famed Creole songwriter Leon Rene, had been recorded in 1946 on his Exclusive label by both Buddy Baker and Charles Brown and was revived by the Mills Brothers two years later. What little the Cadillacs remembered of it resulted in an altered version, almost a new song, but not new enough for Josie to risk listing a composer on the labels, that is, until second pressings a few years later, when the "songwriting secretary," Ms. Navarro's name shows up...on both tunes. "Esther never wrote sh_ _," recalls Speedo with a sardonic laugh, "she just put her name on everything we made up." Indeed, it is hard to imagine a girl behind a desk, answering telephones and typing letters, coming up with lyrics like, "They often call me Speedo but my real name is Mister Earl." To this day, Speedo lives in his beloved Harlem, where he commutes downtown to his day gig as custodian of a tony Upper East Side prep school, to keep the rent paid, in between performances with his current Cadillacs, who still include his childhood friend and original bass, Bobby Phillips. Ask them who was their original influence to become singers and you might be surprised to hear, Roy Rogers and the Sons of the Pioneers. "You see," recalls Speedo, "our mothers were single moms who worked on Saturdays, cleaning houses. They couldn't afford baby sitters, so, for a quarter, they sent us to the movies to watch the "chapters" (old Western serials from the 30s which ran all day). That's where we fell in love with the Sons of the Pioneers; we wanted to sing just like them." When you listen carefully to Speedo's voice, especially on the ballads, his bell-like tones are highly reminiscent of the King of the Cowboys. The Cadillacs' earliest records, like "Wishing Well" and "Gloria," which has become the song by which all other New York vocal groups are judged, reflect the influence of earlier Harlem ballad groups, but before long, they were rocking with street songs like "Down The Road" and "Zoom," not to mention their all time classic, "Speedo."

The year 1954 also marked the recording debut of the Solitaires, from 142nd Street, between 7th and Lenox. The group marked the coming together of "seasoned pros" from other groups, Herman Dunham of the Vocaleers, Pat Gaston of the Chimes on Betta and Royal Roost, Bobby Baylor, Bobby Williams and Monte Owens of the Mello-Moods and Winston "Buzzy" Willis. Drafted a year later, Dunham would be replaced by Milton Love of the Concords; Gaston by Fred Barksdale in 1956. The Solitaires made their debut on Hy Weiss's Old Town, whose "office" was an unused cloakroom in the Triboro Theater on 125th Street. "Blue Valentine" was one of those slow numbers required at "grind-em-up" parties, where the only light was from the refrigerator and the kid whose apartment it was spent the next day washing grease spots off the walls. The groups arrangement for the old Bing Crosby hit, "I Don't Stand A Ghost Of A Chance," was taken verbatim from the unreleased show stopper version by the Five Keys, who spent a week on the same show at the Apollo with the Solitaires. "The Angels Sang" is as fondly remembered by every Harlemite of a certain age, as is the group's only national hit, "Walking Along," by rock'n'rollers of all stripes.

Also from "The Hill" came the Valentines who, with the addition of Philadelphian Richard Barrett as lead singer/songwriter, struck gold with tunes like "Lily Maybelle," "The Woo Woo Train" and "Don't Say Goodnight," led by Carl Hogan. It was Barrett who brought a group of teenage pests from Washington Heights' Edward W. Stitt Jr. High to George Goldner to make a record. The record turned out to be "Why Do Fools Fall In Love" and the group, the Teenagers, would spawn the greatest kid act of all time, little Frankie Lymon of Edgecombe Avenue and 165th Street. Frankie's success would inspire other,less talented preteen vocalists, including his brother Louis, who, with the Teenchords, hit with "I'm So Happy," on Bobby Robinson's Fury label, and Frankie's schoolmate, Jimmy Castor, who wrote Lymon's hit, "I Promise To Remember" and, in the 70s, would chart with "Troglodyte (Cave Man)." Both Lymon brothers made it to the movies, Frankie in Rock, Rock, Rock, and Louis in Jamboree.

Still more Harlem groups include the Five Wings of 129th and 7th, whose lead singer, Jackie Rue made a minor career out of crying uncontrollably as the lead of the Starlites, of "Valerie" fame. And who can forget the pretty tenor of Bobby Mansfield on the Wrens' "Come Back My Love?"

Cooper Jr. High School on Madison Avenue, between 119th and 120th, gave us the Schoolboys, who were actually a "kiddie lead" group before the Teenagers and whose biggest hit, "Please Say You Want Me," shares the same structure, lead-answered-by-group, as their classmates, the Desires' "Let It Please Be You." The female Bobbettes, also of Cooper, wrote their "Mr. Lee" about a particularly unpopular teacher.

From the same neighborhood, around 119th Street and Park Avenue, came the Jesters, who remained cult favorites until their label owner, Paul Winley, had the bright idea a couple of years after they recorded, to couple them with his other act, Brooklyn's Paragons on the brilliant LP, The Paragons Meet The Jesters, complete with a frightening cover photo of motorcycle jacket-clad hoods ready for battle. The album helped kick off the first Oldies revival of the early 60s. Winley, brother of the Clovers' bass, Harold, was an aspiring songwriter who ran the record concession at W.T. Grant's 5 & 10 cent store on 125th Street. He wrote the Clovers' "I Got My Eyes On You" and, after the group left Atlantic, put out a classy Jesse Stone-produced LP, The Clovers In Clover, on his Poplar label.

From 118th Street came the Laddins, featuring Dave "Pinky" Coleman on lead. They recorded the garage classic, "Did It" on Central and, for Alan Freed's Grey Cliff label, "Yes Oh Baby Yes." Group member Bobby Jay is today a disc jockey who plays doo-wop sounds on New York radio.

And lest we forget, two of the most popular records from the heyday of Slim Rose's Times Square Records, down in the subway at 42nd Street: the notorious "Peppermint Stick" by Little Butchie Saunders & the Elchords and that all-time best warm-up tune, "Zoom Zoom Zoom" by the Collegians, the group which also gave us "Let's Go For A Ride." Both groups hailed from Central Harlem.

By the end of the 50s, in Harlem as elsewhere, musical tastes were shifting. The Crowns-now-Drifters saw two of their street songs, "There Goes My Baby" and "Oh My Love," turned into something totally new and exciting by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller's addition of a classical string ensemble. Take away the violins, and the group could've been singing in the high school lavatory. Leiber & Stoller's production innovation took the group forever beyond the confines of Harlem.

Albums like The Paragons Meet The Jesters and, from Los Angeles, Art Laboe's Oldies But Goodies series kicked off a revival which had little payoff for those who actually made the music. A few disc jockeys, like Jocko Henderson and "Cousin Brucie" Morrow, hosted oldies shows at various theaters around New York, attended mostly by blue collar whites filled with nostalgia for records which were then only five years old at the most. Both the Paragons and the Jesters were newly recorded and played on the air, but beyond that, it was "Don't quit your day gig."

A few continued in the music business. Speedo joined the constantly working Coasters, while of the other Cadillacs, Bobby Spencer wrote songs like "My Boy Lollipop," only to see his name later replaced by that Irving Berlin of mobsters, Morris Levy; Jimmy "J.R." Bailey wrote "Everybody Plays The Fool," which has become a minor pop standard. The Solitaires' Buzzy Willis played on the insecurities of white corporate record execs and hustled them for a&r jobs at labels like M-G-M and RCA Victor.

In the early 70s, a second Oldies revival took place in the wake of Richard Nader's Madison Square Garden shows. This time, acts' prices went up considerably and many have continued to work fairly consistently ever since. Then, just when one thought every drop of juice had been squeezed from the rock, the masses recently discovered this music yet again, in the form of Rhino's Doo-Wop Box, which achieved "gold" status, and, in the year 2000, Public Broadcasting's doo-wop special astounded naysayers by becoming the biggest fundraiser in the history of the network. And there they were, on national TV, three of Harlem's finest practitioners of the art of urban street singing: the Cadillacs, the Channels and the Harptones, singing songs they created almost fifty years ago, under the street lamps of Harlem. Songs these guys, now members of the Viagra generation, made up back then to impress local schoolgirls. The show did so well that a second volume, Doo-Wop 51, was recently aired, featuring Harlem's Charlie Thomas of the Drifters/Crowns, Bobby Thomas of the Vibranaires and four of the original 5 Willows.

I realize that much of the music discussed here may mean nothing to many rock'n'roll fans, but for those interested in American black urban culture, especially that of Harlem of the 50s, this stuff is essential to an understanding of what that time and place was all about. The reader must also realize that, ever since working class white boys rediscovered this music in the early 60s, so much misinformation, speculation and distortion has been passed along as fact that, at this late date, anything anybody writes concerning what are now, thanks to 70s dj Gus Gossert, known as doo-wop groups (a term unknown in the 50s), is highly suspect. So, anything you read here is as "correct" or "incorrect" as what you'll read anywhere else. My caveat to you is to take all writing on the subject of doo-wop, including my own, with a generous grain of salt.

This article owes much to Phil Groia's groundbreaking 1973 book on the subject, "They All Sang On The Corner," as well as to articles by Marv Goldberg, Donn Fileti and others, not to mention a lifetime's worth of conversations between the author and the various subjects themselves.

Billy Vera