The World's Worst Records

Following on from the recent post from Senator Samuel J Ervin, here’s another dreadful little record this time not only made by a politician but also about a fellow politician.

A Ballad to George Wallace by Senator Roscoe Dean was issued in August 1972 on the tiny GWS (Great World of Sound) label of Miami, Florida. Roscoe Dean Jr was the state’s youngest senator, elected to office at just 28 years old in 1963. Governor George Wallace, of course, was also immortalised in song by Ken “Nevada” Maines on the brilliantly odd album The World of Las Vegas, featured on this very blog back in July 2012 (and in the rather excellent book The World’s Worst Records: Volume One).

This particular record was issues just months after an assassination attempt – in May 1972 - left Wallace paralysed, forcing him to use a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Wallace, who died in 1998, is chiefly remembered for his segregationist views, although he eventually renounced segregationism. Backed with Monday Morning Blues by Lee Greene and his Shining Knights of Greene, both songs were co-written by Greene and the mad, bad Senator himself.

Senator Roscoe Dean was indicted on 14 counts of theft – for fiddling his expenses – in 1975, the same year that Governor George launched his fourth unsuccessful campaign for the presidency. The good ol’ boy even took his mum to court with him to elicit some sympathy from the bench, but he was still censured (firmly rebuked) by the Senate in 1976 for, amongst other things, claiming mileage from his home in Jesup, Georgia to Atlanta on days when he was in the Bahamas.

Not one to learn from his mistakes, in 1982 Dean attempted to found an illegal drug cartel on the Georgia coast to finance his campaign for governor; unfortunately for him his Colombian drug-running co-conspirators were actually undercover agents from the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. Roscoe Emory Dean, Jr. and John Thomas Bigley were convicted after trial by jury on three counts of conspiracy to import cocaine, marijuana, and methaqualone; Bigley was convicted on one additional count of using a firearm in the commission of a federal felony.

It has even been suggested that he may have been capable of murder: in December 1979, it is claimed, attorney Hirsch Friedman was contacted by a Mr. Weiss, who had been sentenced on a felony conviction in federal court. Weiss stated he had information that Roscoe Dean was involved in a plot to kill Governor George Busbee. Weiss's information was conveyed to the Georgia Bureau of Investigation and the GBI asked Friedman to do undercover work on the investigation into Roscoe Dean’s nefarious activities. Friedman was wired up to a concealed tape recorder and, posing as a drug smuggler, discussed the possible sale of cocaine with the Senator. Mr. Friedman then arrested him.

Roscoe was arrested and sent to prison for five years. Released on petition after 22 months, his appeal was overturned and he returned to prison in 1985 to serve out the remainder of his sentence. He's still, apparently, living in Jesup today. I'll bet people give him a wide berth when they meet him on the street.

Anyway, here’s Roscoe’s attempt at vinyl immortality. Enjoy!

Giovanni Giorgio Moroder (born Hansjörg Moroder in the Tyrolean town of Urtijëi in April 1940) is one of the most influential record producers and songwriters of the 70s and 80s. Frequently credited with pioneering synth disco and electronic dance music, he’s best known for his collaborations with the late DonnaSummer - including the mega hits Love to Love You Baby and I Feel Love. He also founded the Oasis label and the famous Musicland Recording Studios in Munich, used by major acts including the Electric Light Orchestra, Led Zeppelin, Queen and Elton John. He worked with David Bowie on Cat People (Putting Out Fire), Blondie on Call Me and, of course, Phil Oakey on Together in Electric Dreams. As these things go he’s pretty huge.

Unfortunately he also produced some utterly terrible trash. Throughout his career Moroder has exhibited a horrible habit, insisting on stepping out from behind the mixing desk to inflict his own solo efforts on an unsuspecting public. He may have an impeccable pedigree in disco circles, but the great man is no stranger to releasing rubbish. His first album, 1970’s That’s Bubble Gum – That’s Giorgio is stuffed with appalling cover versions 'sung' in broken English, such as the two Creedence Clearwater Revival tracks here, Proud Mary and Bad Moon Rising. Just dreadful.

But it didn't stop there. Oh no.

In 1978, at the height of the disco era - and at the height of his success - Moroder issued a dire discofied version of the Procol Harum classic A Whiter Shade of Pale. The track, from the album Knights in White Satin, is credited to the Munich Machine Featuring Chris Bennett but it’s actually a studio project from Moroder and his co-conspirator, British songwriter/producer Pete Bellotte utilising many of the musicians they had used on their various sessions. Vocalist Chris Bennett, now a respected jazz musician (born Christine Bennett in Illinois in August 1948) was a backing singer and pianist who had appeared on recordings by Tina Turner,The Manhattan Transfer and Donna Summer. She was later nominated for a Grammy for The Theme from Midnight Express.

Horrifyingly this piece of rubbish was a minor hit in Britain in 1978, reaching the dizzying heights of 42 during its’ four-week run.

‘How long can disco on?’, Harry Nilssononce asked. Too long if you ask me, especially if it coughs up crap like this.

Enjoy!

The Wonder Who?was a pseudonym used by the Four Seasons, who released a cover of the Bob Dylan song Don't Think Twice (truncating the correct title of the song) under that name in 1965. An outtake from their Sing Hits By Bacharach, David and Dylan album, the story has it that Valli was not happy with his vocals during the recording of a ‘straight’ version of Don't Think Twice, It's All Right and he decided to record the song with a ‘joke’ falsetto vocal to ease the tension in the studio.

As the group were still enjoying hit singles (Let’s Hang On had been a Top Three hit recently and their next single, Working My Way Back to You would go Top 10) to save damaging the group’s career it was decided to issue the track with the Wonder Who? nom-de-plume. Everyone involved was surprised when it became a major hit, peaking on the Billboard charts at Number 12. Called ‘about the most camp cover of a Dylan tune that could be imagined’ by Richie Unterberger on allmusic.com, lead singer Frankie Valli, bizarrely, decides to blow falsetto raspberries throughout the recording. Valli made this rather peculiar sound (which, to be perfectly honest, I first assumed was a flaw in the mastering) in imitation of the singer Rose Murphy, who used the brrp, brrp sound of a telephone ringing on her hit Busy Line.

Not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth, the Four Seasons and Philips kept the joke going a little longer, resurrecting the Wonder Who? for this dismal and, frankly, ridiculous cover of the Shirley temple classic On the Good Ship Lollipop, backed with an equally awful reworking of the old chestnut You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves You– with both songs again featuring Frankie dong his best (or worst) impersonation of a Trimphone. Both sides scraped the Billboard 100, with On the Good Ship Lollipop peaking at 87 during its’ three-week run and You’re Nobody Till Somebody Loves Youreaching the giddy heights of 96.

Their third outing as the Wonder Who?, 1967's Lonesome Road, peaked at 89. A fourth Wonder Who single (sans the question mark) was simply a reissue of an old Four Seasons recording, Peanuts, issued as a cash-in by the group’s former label Vee-Jay. On the Good Ship Lollipop would also be covered (and issued as a single in 1969) by perennial pop outsider Tiny Tim.

The Four Seasons would continue to release records – and score hits - under their own name and under that of leader Frankie Valli (real name Francesco Stephen Castelluccio) for the next decade. Throughout their now 50-plus year history the various line-ups of the group have issued tracks under a variety of names; Frankie Valli solo releases have turned up on Four Seasons albums and vice versa, and Valli – who suffered a debilitating deafness for almost two decades before having it corrected by surgery – is still touring today, fronting a new version of the Four Seasons as he enters his 80s. As the new millennium arrived the hit musical Jersey Boys reignited interest in their career once again, Valli appeared in a number of episodes of the hit TV series The Sopranos and, in 2007, a remix of their 40-year old single Beggin’ saw the act return to the UK charts a full 45 years after their first British chart entry, Sherry.

Enjoy!

Born October 17, 1938 in Butte, Montana – the former mining town which, in its heyday, was home to hundreds of saloons and a notorious red-light district – Robert Craig ‘Evel’ Knievel was an American daredevil, entertainer and (or so it says on Wikipedia) ‘international icon’. The original Lance Murdoch, between 1965 and 1980 he attempted over 75 ramp-to-ramp motorcycle jumps in his red, white and blue leather cat suit: in 1974 a failed jump across Snake River Canyon in a steam-powered rocket almost resulted in his death and, during his professional career, he broke 433 bones – earning him an entry in the Guinness Book of World Records as the survivor of "most bones broken in a lifetime".

He was well paid for his feats of daring. He earned $1 million for his jump over 13 buses at Wembley Stadium (the crash landing broke his pelvis) and more than $6 million for the Snake River Canyon attempt, where the parachute on his rocket-powered Skycycle malfunctioned and deployed after take-off. Strong winds blew the cycle into the canyon, landing him close to the river below.

At the height of his fame Evel appeared in movies, made dozens of appearances as a guest on hit TV shows including The Bionic Womanand the Sonny and Cher Show and had a range of toys (or collectable figurines I guess you’d call them now) based on him, his family and his contemporaries. Knievel toys accounted for more than $300 million in sales in the 70s and 80s.

Thankfully, in 1974, he released the thoroughly bizarre album, with the incredibly original title Evel Knievel, which featured a 26 minute press conference, a song about (but not by) him and the great man himself reciting a self-composed poem. It’s a pretty boring listen: luckily the two standout tracks – Why and The Ballad of Evel Knievel – were issued as a single. And it’s those two tracks I present for you today. When producer Ron Kramer was searching for a vocalist to sing a song he had co-written written for Knievel he approached John Culliton Mahoney, who performs The Ballad of Evel Knievel in a shrill vibrato. It sounds to me like the theme tune to a Saturday tea time TV show, which it possibly could have been intended for. Why is just horrible: a miserable piece of poetry worthy of a ten year-old in which, over swelling strings, Evel talks about his faith in God, and how the power of prayer has pulled him through his darkest days.

Originally issued on Amherst in 1974 (the long-established US company owned by Leonard Silver that also licensed 45s by The Stylistics, Van McCoy andGlenn Medeiros), the album was reissued on Tin Toy Records (on CD in 2000) as Evel Speaks to the Kids. A strange move, as Tin Toy seem to specialise in semi-legit (read 'dodgy') Throbbing Gristle and Psychic TV albums. To the best of my knowledge Evel Speaks to the Kids is a Genesis P Orridge-free zone. After years of licensing tracks from other stables, John Culliton Mahoney became the first artist to sign directly to Amherst Records in 1973 (according to an article in the Niagara Falls Reporter), releasing his first album, Love Not Guaranteed, the same year. He’s still performing today.

The promoter for the Snake River Canyon jump, Shelly Saltman, wrote a book entitled Evel Knievel on Tour. The book painted an unflattering picture of Knievel's character, alleging that he abused his wife and kids and he used drugs. Enraged, Knievel flew to California to confront Saltman, who was a Vice President at 20th Century Fox. Gaining entrance to the studio lot, one of Knievel's friends grabbed Saltman and held him while Knievel, with both arms still in casts, attacked him with an aluminium baseball bat, declaring, "I'm going to kill you!" According to a witness, Knievel struck repeated blows at Saltman's head, with Saltman blocking the blows with his left arm. Saltman's arm and wrist were shattered in several places before he fell to the ground unconscious. It took numerous surgeries and permanent metal plates to eventually give Saltman back the use of his arm. Saltman's book was pulled from the shelves by the publisher after Knievel threatened to sue. Saltman later produced documents in both criminal and civil court that proved that, although Knievel claimed to have been insulted by statements in Saltman's book, he and his lawyers had actually been given editorial access to the book and had approved and signed off on every word prior to its publication. Knievel pleaded guilty to battery and was sentenced to three years' probation and six months in county jail.

Unsurprisingly, Knievel lost most of his marketing endorsements and deals and, with no income from jumping or sponsorship, he was eventually forced to declare bankruptcy. He still managed to make a living though: thousands came to Butte each year to celebrate Evel Knievel Day, where he would sell autographs and memorabilia.

Evel died in November 2007 at the age of 69. He had been in failing health for years, suffering from diabetes and pulmonary fibrosis (an incurable condition that scarred his lungs); he had undergone a liver transplant in 1999 after nearly dying of hepatitis C, likely contracted through a blood transfusion after one of his bone-shattering spill and he also suffered two strokes in the years before he passed.

Enjoy!

A slightly less creepy version of the Mini-Pops, The Little Angels National Folk Ballet of Korea released just one 45 in the UK in November 1972, a cover of the recent Neil Reid Top Three hit Mother of Mine backed with I’m Getting Married in the Morning, the show-stopping tune from the musical My Fair Lady. A follow-up album, Little Angels, received a limited European and Asian release the following year.

Mother of Mine was an obvious choice for the pre-pubescent emotional blackmailers; a song guaranteed to tug at the heartstrings of a certain sector of the record buying public. Listening to their performance is akin to being beaten around the head by the Von Trapp Family Singers with sticks of candyfloss. However the supposed charm of a bunch of cute moppets singing I’m Getting Married in the Morning takes on a much more sinister tone when you realise that the choir was brought together by the notorious Sun Myung Moon, the founder of the Unification Church (aka the Moonies), whose bizarre blessing ceremonies gained international attention for joining thousands of identically-dressed brides and grooms - many of whom met at the ceremony for the first time - in distinctly unholy matrimony. Ignore the dodgy pronunciation, I reckon that there were a few dissenters in the ranks. Listen carefully: I’m sure some of the kids are singing ‘Kim Jong’, rather than ‘ding-dong’.

Dance troupe and choral company the Little Angels Children’s Folk Ballet of Korea was founded in 1962 by the Rev. Moon and his wife, Hak Ja Han, as a way to project a positive image of South Korea. Still in existence today (the lineup changes, Menudo-like, whenever a member reaches her 16^thbirthday), the group’s dances are based on Korean legends and regional dances, and its costumes on traditional Korean styles.

“My plan was to have these 17 children learn how to dance and then send them out into the world. Many foreigners knew about Korea only as a poor country that had fought a terrible war,” said Reverend Moon in his less-than reliable memoir. “I wanted to show them the beautiful dances of Korea so that they would realise that the Korean people are a people of culture."

In 1973, shortly after they released their one and only British single, they performed at the United Nations Headquarters in New York. They have appeared Stateside on many occasions, including in 1993 when, according to a contemporary review in The New York Times, the troupe featured‘girls from seven to 15 years old...dressed in a wide variety of colourful costumes, some drawn from traditional Korean styles. They still glide, dip and spin in mini-spectacles, inspired by Korean legends and regional dances that often resemble gracious precision drills’.The group has expanded recently and, in an uncharacteristic nod to the modern world, has added a solitary young boy to its’ cast of 33 young girls.

In 2010 the Little Angels toured the world, visiting the 16 nations that had sent troops to support South Korea in the United Nations force during the war, ‘to provide “breathtaking and heart-warming” performances that will honour and cheer the countries’ veterans, express the deep gratitude the Korean people feel toward all Americans for preserving their freedom, and celebrate the enduring Korean-American friendship’. The tour was sponsored by the Korean War 60th Anniversary Memorial Committee, whose chairman, Bo Hi Pak, is also the president of the Little Angels. They played in London that October.

Enjoy!

As England have recently been forced to accept ignominious defeat in the 2014 FIFA World Cup, this seems to me to be the perfect time to head north of the border, to Scotland, and the Scottish World Cup Squad’s awful 1982 single We Have A Dream. If you think England has performed appallingly, perhaps you should consider the fate of the UK’s other national teams: since WW2 Scotland have never advanced beyond the first round of the finals competition, missing out on progressing to the second round three times on goal difference (according to Wikipedia. Me: I couldn’t give a rat’s arse about the dull game). Wales only appeared in the 1958 World Cup because other countries refused to take part. Northern Ireland have appeared in the finals of the FIFA World Cup on three occasions: 1958, 1982 and 1986.

So, back to Scotland. This dreadful piece of flag-waving Braveheartism comes from the pen of B A Robertson, the Scots singer and composer who had scored several solo hits between 1979 and 1981 with Bang Bang, Knocked it Off and Kool in the Kaftan among them, plus a duet with Maggie Bell and Hold Me. This hideous hymn to nationalism, which actually reached the Top Five, features actor John Gordon Sinclair telling the story of a dream he had about Scottish football success. He later resuscitated this Scottish footballing connection by narrating the 2006 BBC Scotland documentary series That Was the Team That Was. Sinclair is probably best known for his appearance in the films Gregory’s Girl and Local Hero. The single was re-released in 2008 to raise money for the BBC’s annual Children In Need telethon. That version featured a host of celebrities including Samuel L. Jackson, Ashley Jensen, Dougray Scott, Chris Hoy, Ally McCoist, comedian Fred MacAulay and actress Elaine C. Smith along with Sinclair reprising his role.

The B-side of the original 1982 version, Wrap Up the Cup I B A Robertson's 'rap' track - is equally heinous, and is also included here.

Outside of his solo career, Robertson also co-wrote Carrie and Wired for Sound for Cliff Richard and penned and sang the theme music to the television series the Multi-Coloured Swap Shop (Hello, Hello, although, to be perfectly honest, I can’t recall this song being used: the Swap Shop theme I hear in my head is completely different (Swap Shooooop! Do-do, do-do-do-do-do-do, do, do-do-do-do-do-do…). He also and wrote and sang backing vocals for the Swap Shop spin-off group Brown Sauce's UK Top 20 hit I Wanna Be a Winner: the ‘band’Brown Sauce was made up of Swap Shop presenters Keith Chegwin, Maggie Philbin and Noel Edmonds. I’ve included both sides of the latter release here for you, just as a reminder of how truly awful the early 80s could be.

Enjoy!

Today we're taking a short foreign vacation, going back to Scandinavia to revisit an old friend.

Back in October 2012 I posted what is easily one of the most bizarre recordings I have ever encountered. Released by Odeon in Sweden in 1971, Jolly Jolly Buddy Buddy and the even more perverse B-side Molly Cow Teddy Puff (which, even if it is billed as one composition on the disc's label, is clearly two distinct 'songs') appear to be the only two tracks recorded by Reco, the pseudonym of one Reijo Kääriäinen.

Sung in what appears to be fake English, a conceit which was also utilised by Daniel Catellano on the ridiculous Italian pop song Prisencolinensinainciusol (covered in the UK by comedian Mike Read, and featured here), Jolly Jolly Buddy Buddyand Molly Cow Teddy Puff are completely unintelligible. Reco played most of the instruments on the two (or is it three?) tracks, with Ulf Andersson on flute and Ulf Söderholm, a former member of 60’s Stockholm six-piece beat group The Telstars, on drums. Both songs were produced by Tommy Hallden who, in the 50s and 60s, fronted his own band the G-Men and Tommy Hallden and the Rocking' Jupiters. Although he played flute on the single, Ulf Andersson was one of the most sought-after saxophonists in Sweden: he would later play the famous sax break on the Abba hit I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do.

Although this appears to have been Reco's only record, as Reijo Kääriäinen he did release at least one further 45; and it is that recording I offer for your enjoyment today. Issued not in Sweden but in Finland (on Gold Discs in 1978), Pahalta Tää Kaikki Näyttää/Kuka Mä Oon? translates as something like All the Evil in the World/Who Am I? Brilliantly, the act is credited on the sleeve as being Kääriäinen and the Geniuses. No argument here.

A bizarre new wave/disco hybrid, there’s no mistaking Reco’s ranting vocal, but sadly there's very little else I can tell you about this particular recording or indeed about Reijo. Described by his family as “a very colourful person,” Reco sadly passed away in 2005. He left a pile of cassette tapes to his only daughter, a treasury of unreleased recordings. Perhaps one day the world will be allowed to hear them. He did bear more than a passing resemblance to Finnish singer Jorma Kääriäinen: does anyone out there know if they were related? Apologies for the poor quality of this - if I ever track down a better copy you'll be the first to know.

Enjoy!

Vilified as a fake by some, feted as a phenomenon by others, psychic Uri Geller has probably garnered more column inches in recent years for his friendship – and very public falling out - with the late Michael Jackson and for his numerous failed sporting predictions than for his celebrated spoon bending abilities.

Born in Tel Aviv in 1946, he began performing in night clubs in the late 1960s and in 1972, having already gained a huge following in Israel, he moved first to Europe and then to America where his act soon garnered coverage in the national media. By 1973 he was a household name in Britain, with TV and radio appearances by the bucket load, and major articles about him in the press.

Little more than a year after he first came to prominence he was propelled into the recording studio to cut his first (and thankfully only) pop album. Uri Geller features Uri’s own pretentious poetry put to music by pianist (and personal friend) Byron Janis. The result is a unique trip inside the mind of a notorious personality which will probably remain unmatched until turquoise jumpsuited New Age nutcase David Ickedecides to commit his crazed beliefs about lizards running the world to vinyl.

Never exactly backwards at coming forwards, it may come as a shock that the utterly shameless self-promoter is surprisingly self-effacing when it comes to claims of vocal prowess. “Promoter Werner Schmidt...originally wanted to do a musical about my life,” he wrote on www.uri-geller.com. “(He) brushed off my claims that I couldn’t sing... until I opened my mouth to demonstrate. Horrified, he sent me to a voice coach in Zurich. The best I could manage, though, was a cross between a raven and a frog.”

Uri is rather proud of his album: “By talking over Byron’s beautiful music, putting all the passion and meaning I could into the lyrics which I had seemed to channel from above, I recorded an album that became a sensation. I truly believe nothing like it has ever been made.” You're not kidding. Featuring a brace of duets with British soul singer Maxine Nightingale, Beck is a huge fan: “The combination of surging romantic strings and mind over matter (and forks) poetry is a potent one. I picked this up on vinyl in the early 90's and it was a favourite to listen to while we were recording Odelay.” Allmusic.com’s Matt Collar describes it as ‘something like Peter Lorre doing a spoken-word album backed by the Carpenters’.

In his 1975 autobiography My Story, Geller writes that ‘When the record did appear in Europe in 1974, it was played over the radio in Switzerland. Sure enough, the station received hundreds of phone calls from people reporting that cutlery and keys were bending in their homes.’

Interestingly, around the time that Polydor were readying the Uri Geller albumfor release, Geller was to have appeared in a movie based on his life. The Geller Effect was to be produced by Aussie impresario Robert Stigwood with songs and incidental music by the Bee Gees. The project, which Maurice Gibb later described as “a sort of Star Wars-cum-Love Story” was abandoned, but 20 years later the legendary Ken Russell was behind the direct-to-video Mindbender, a film about Geller which co-incidentally did feature the Bee Gees on the soundtrack.

Uri Geller was reissued on CD in the UK in 1999. In recent years he has released several self-help and meditation CDs; thankfully none of them including material from Uri Geller. In 2007 Uri hosted a TV series in Israel on which he attempted to find his psychic successor: the show went on to be picked up by TV networks in America, Sweden, Turkey, Hungary, the Netherlands and Russia. Who could have predicted that one?

Enjoy!

You’ve got Paul Nashman, the former proprietor of the infamous Nasher’s second-hand record shop in Walcot Street, Bath to blame for this one, for until he alerted me to it earlier this week I was blissfully unaware of its existence (Nasher’s late and much lamented shop featured on the front cover of the 2002 Van Morrison album Down the Road).

Issued as the second 45 on the tiny Monza record label in 1980 (the first was a cover of 10CC’s I’m Not in Love by Edwina Rigby; the third, and last, was a 45 which coupled reggae versions of the Dallas and Waltons themes), Rabies is a Killer is the sole single from Leicester’s Agony Bag, a bizarre Rocky Horror/Jayne County hybrid four piece (plus their two delightful female dancers) which sprang from the ashes of heavy rock act Black Widow. Inspired in equal measures by Jethro Tull and the teachings of black magic witch/occultist Alex Sanders (known to his followers as Verbius) Black Widow scored a minor hit with their first album Sacrifice, which included their best-known song Come to the Sabbat. Imitating near-neighbours Earth (who, in August 1969 would rename themselves Black Sabbath) Black Widow had themselves risen from the remnants of bluesy pop band Pesky Gee! I’ll tell you more about them another day, and maybe share Nasher’s tale of the day he ran into BW’s guitarist and songwriter Jim Gannon (if he’ll let me), but one fun fact is that their line-up once included Romeo Challenger, the drummer from Showaddywaddy.

But for now, back to Agony Bag.

Often dumped into the catch-all NWOBHM (New Wave of British Heavy Metal) grab-bag, Agony Bagwas formed in early 1976 by former Black Widowmembers Clive Jones (flute and vocals) and drummer Clive Box (known professionally as Bok). The band eschewed Black Widow’s infamous satanic stage show (where the band would mock-sacrifice a nubile young woman) in favour of a poorly executed Kiss-in-drag look. After four years of slogging around the Leicester pub circuit the band released their one and only single, Rabies is a Killer backed with Never Never Land, both sides of which were written by Jones. The group made a video to accompany the release, which I urge you to check out (it’s on YouTube), if only for the sight of a makeup-caked Jones dressed up in stockings and suspenders swinging from the rafters of a Leicester rehearsal room. He looks for all the world like Frank-N-Furter imitating a chimpanzee.

Little wonder that, shortly after the recording, bass player Geoff Bevan left the band and joined the fledgling Diesel Park West. Clive and Bok added Ian Watts on guitar and Mick Wright on bass but this new line-up lasted fewer than two months: the band folded altogether when Clive decided to leave at the end of November 1980.

Agony Bag were “a most unusual band and well before its time,” Clive Jones told Polish metal website Doomsmoker. “It also gave me the chance to write more and do lead vocals. Agony Bag was great fun and we were for sure the only band to have sex onstage and not always with our girl dancers! We did many tours of Germany and have a great fan base over there.” This would explain why the tracks were recorded in a German studio and why one chorus of Rabies is a Killer is sung in German.

Agony Bag recorded several other tracks, most of which are now available on the 2001 compilation Feelmazumba, andRabies is a Killerrecently turned up on the soundtrack of indie horror flick Jessicka Rabid. In recent years Clive has once again been playing and recording as part of a new line-up of Black Widow. If you’d like to know more about Agony Bag I urge you to check out überfan Phil Mulvaney’s website at www.agonybag.co.uk, but for now, here are both sides of Agony Bag’s brilliant Rabies is a Killer.

Enjoy!

I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about Marvin A Waters, the man behind this week’s audio atrocity, or about his companies Marvin Waters Records and Marvin Waters Music (BMI). I can tell you that he was born in 1940 and that he’s still alive, aged 73, and still living in Columbus, Georgia, where he built his empire. I can tell you that he was raised in Cordele, Georgia before relocating to Columbus and – before he started to list himself as a ‘songwriter and singer’ – he was involved with the US Job Corps service, working from centres in California and Indiana and using the pages of their magazine the Corpsman to solicit young female pen pals in 1969.

He’s listed in the US phone book. Maybe one day I’ll give him a call.

Today’s tracks come from a 1989 release on Marvin Waters Records. Marvin Waters Records appears to be some sort of song poem/vanity hybrid – an operation not dissimilar to those of Norridge Mayhams and Nick Gilio– so this particular record is a bit of an oddity, with both Speciality You and You Can Go Take a Walk having been written by someone other than Marvin himself. Unfortunately the composer (one Miguel de la Vega) seems to be even more elusive than Mr Waters: there are other people of the same name (including a young Latino singer) around and active today, but this particular Senor Vega seems to have vanished.

Speciality You is a hopeless recording if there ever was one, suffering from stumbling keyboards, dreadful delivery from Marvin and what appears to be the wrong title: it’s clear from Marvin’s vocals that the song should be called ‘Specially You, not Speciality You – my guess is that the title on the label is a misprint. B-Side You Can Go Take a Walk is little better: both songs were clearly recorded in one take and one must assume that Marvin is also responsible for the useless keyboard playing. Rarely has the instrument sounded more tortured – apart that is form the truly horrific piano plonking on Grace Pauline Chew’s releases.

There were at least four 45s released on Marvin Waters Records, although judging by the catalogue numbers that have so far surfaced I would assume there are a load more somewhere:

A-9144: If You Ever Need Jesus/Why Don’t You Wake Up (both sides written by Marvin Waters) (1987)

A-9179: Speciality You/You Can Go Take a Walk (both sides written by Miguel de la Vega) (1989)

A-9190: Tired of my Kisses/Bayou Blue (1989)

A-9209: Get Out of Here/Wanted Again (1990)

Marvin composed several other songs – some of which may well have featured on other Marvin Waters Records releases, including God is so Good to Me (1983) and In the Night (also 1983), with music by Marvin Waters and words by Robert Gerold Register. To add to Marvin’s song-poem credentials, God is so Good to Me was originally recorded by song-poem superstar Buddy Raye (aka Elmer Plinger, Dick Castle and so on) on a Sunrise records gospel compilation Praising His Heavenly Light.

Enjoy!

It had to happen.

When I wrote about Christian ventriloquism in the World’s Worst Records Volume One I knew there had to be other wretched examples alongside the better-known Little Marcy, Geraldine and Ricky and so on. Today’s find represents, for me, the gold standard in bad Christian ventriloquism.

Gary Bradford is one of those names that turns up again and again in lists of the world’s worst record covers, however very few people have actually heard the content of those infamous sleeves – until now!

Gary Bradford issued at least five albums – Sings for You and You and You (1975, as Gary Dee Bradford),I’m Not Handicapped – Just Inconvenienced, I Am Loved (1979), Hymns for You (1980) and his most recent effort, 2002’s Safely Home. There have also been a couple of 45s. According to his official biography, Gary was ‘born without arms and having hands at his shoulders from birth’. This rare congenital disorder is known as phocomelia: Gary’s twin brother, similarly handicapped, died in infancy. He also suffers from rickets, the predominant cause of which is vitamin D deficiency. The majority of cases occur in children suffering from severe malnutrition in Third World countries, usually resulting from famine or starvation during the early stages of childhood.

Although many factors can cause phocomelia, tens of thousands of cases worldwide came from the use of the drug thalidomide in the 1960s. Phocomelia can result in abnormalities to the face, limbs, ears, nose, vessels and many other parts of the body. If he had been born a few decades earlier he could have followed the career trajectory of Stanislaus Berent (1901 – 1980), the American sideshow freak who performed under the stage name of Sealo the Seal Boy, but brave little Gary wasn’t going to let a massively debilitating handicap ruin his life. He went on to a career as a musical minister (and, clearly, occasional ventriloquist), touring the US and giving performances at churches and conventions. He has performed at the Southern Baptist Convention, with Jim & Tammy Faye Bakker's Heritage USA, and on the Trinity Broadcasting Network.

In 2006 Gary was in the news for suing the University of Houston for violation of the Americans with Disabilities Act over a professor's refusal to provide assistance taking notes. As a result, he was forced to drop out just hours shy of his music degree. The lawsuit was one of 16 filed by the Texas Civil Rights Project accusing the government and private companies of failing to comply with the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act. Gary had enrolled at the university because he wanted to complete about 20 hours of course work needed for a bachelor's in music. You have got to admire his tenacity and stoicism.

As far as I am aware Gary only employs his dubious ventriloquism skills on I’m Not Handicapped – Just Inconvenienced. What I can’t understand is why bother in the first place? He’s just rotten: Danny’s ‘joke’ about a Deacon and a Pastor (at least I think that’s what it is about) is unintelligible. Clearly not having fully developed arms is a major inconvenience to a ventriloquist – but Gary is in a recording studio, not appearing live from the altar of a church. He could ‘pretend’ to be controlling little Danny the wooden wonder boy rather than struggling to talk through gritted teeth mispronouncing almost every word and sounding like Chuck and Bob from the classic 70s/80s comedy Soap. Mind, Gary’s own diction isn’t exactly spot on: I swear at around 1:38 he sings the line ‘’cause I can sure handle the cocksucker way’. Surely not?

Still, who am I to judge? Here’s the opening track from Gary’s 1979 classic I’m Not Handicapped – Just Inconvenienced. Thanks to bizarrerecords.com for the cover art

Enjoy!

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Now, as you all well know, I try and steer clear from novelty records wherever and whenever possible, but this is a little bit different. I discovered this shockingly awful piece of garbage in a charity shop yesterday and felt compelled to share it with you immediately.

This odd little disc features a brace of cover versions sung by a young woman by the name of Catherine Chaplin. The A-Side. If You Were a Tadpole. was written by veteran songwriter Hal Shaper and the internationally revered actress and singer Julie Andrews: Julie originally performed the song in her 1975 US TV special My Favourite Things.

Quite why Shaper would then decide to re-record this horror with this prepubescent simpleton is beyond me, unless that is he sniffed a potential hit and couldn’t get Julie to agree to issue her version. Ah, but it gets odder: this single was released in September 1977: in November Julie would once again perform the song, singing the tune to the green puppet that inspired it in the first place in an episode of The Muppet Show (the episode was broadcast in February 1978).

The B-side is no better: the young miss Chaplin attacks the classic You Made me Love You (originally published in 1913 and recorded in that year by Al Jolson)– bastardising Judy Garland’s cute, Clark Gable-dedicated intro. It’s vile. The Garland version, which this cut so evilly mocks, was originally adapted for Judy to sing to Gable at a birthday party thrown for him by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. MGM executives were so charmed by her rendition that she was added to the film Broadway Melody of 1938. Garland recorded her version on September 24, 1937. It’s a classic: Catherine Chaplin’s version is not.

But what do we know of young Catherine Chaplin? Bog all, if truth be known. This appears to be Catherine’s one and only release as a solo artist, although in the same year she also added her vocal skills to You Shan’t Come and Play in our Yard, a track from the John Inman album I’m Free (also issued as the B-side to the I’m Free 45). A Catherine Chaplin is also listed as a backing vocalist on French singer Jean Claude Petit’s 1980 album The Best Of All Possible Worlds and as one of the voices on the 2001 release A Classical Kids Christmas – although I doubt (in the latter case at least) that this is the same young lady.

And that’s all I’ve got. If anyone out there knows anything else about this peculiar little record – or its performer – please do get in touch.

Enjoy!

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Today’s disc is a fine example of that age-old mantra ‘sports stars cannot (and should not) sing’. It’s also a sobering ‘there but for the grace of God’ tale…and it highlights my dislike of Queen (but that’s another story). A triple whammy.

Former Detroit Lions player Jimmy ‘Spiderman’ Allen was born in Florida in 1952 but was brought up an aunt and uncle in Los Angeles. An exceptional athlete, while studying at Los Angeles City High School Allen shattered all city records in several swimming events and, in 1972, he even tried out for the Olympic team.

As well as swimming, he played for his high school football team, earning the nickname “Spiderman” due in part to his coverage abilities. He went on to play for the UCLA Bruins alongside quarterback Mark Harmon, whose would find greater fame on TV in shows such as St Elsewhere and NCIS.

After playing for UCLA he went on to join the Pittsburgh Steelers and, finally, the Detroit Lions, And it was while he was with the Lions that he recorded this little nugget, an early ‘rap’ version of the Queen hit Another One Bites the Dust with team-mates Dave Hill and Jimmy Hunter backing him up. The story has it that Jimmy heard the original song whilst driving out to the airport and thought it would be worth adopting as the Lions’ theme song. Unfortunately for the team they took ownership of the song at exactly the wrong time: the Lions lost match after match, and Another One Bites the Dust instead of being a celebratory ‘come and have a go at us’ anthem became a major embarrassment. The video – which features Allen flicking a feather duster around in an all-too literal reading of the lyrics – seems to have vanished form the face of the earth. Well, it ain’t on Youtube!

Backed with the short Spider’s Delight, a brief bit of freestyle with more than a nod to the Shugarhill Gang, the single was a local hit in Detroit and – apparently, although I’ve been unable to find any evidence - Allen’s son Jimmy Jr. followed his dad’s lead into the rap and hip-hop scene.

It’s horrible. Sure, other sportsmen (and women) have done worse, but it’s a prime example of what not to do when let loose in the recording studio. It’s a reasonably passable cover of the song (the cheap click track backing aside) and not to embarrassing a performance – that is until Jimmy starts to rap: clearly the man was the inspiration for our own John Barnes and his ridiculous performances on World in Motion and The Anfield Rap. And what’s with the weird animal noises? I assume they’re supposed to be (Detroit) Lions’ roars – I certainly can’t imagine a spider making that kind of noise. Unless it’s a giant spider from a 50s B-movie of course.

Jimmy’s professional career ended with the 1981/2 season. In 1982 the Lions traded Allen to the Kansas City Chiefs, but he was revealed to have an irregular heartbeat and never played for the team.

It’s here that Spiderman’s story plumbs darker depths.

This abrupt end left Allen unprepared to meet the challenges of life after a successful sports career. Returning to Los Angeles he invested his savings in a laundromat, but the business went under after a few years forcing him to sell the family home and move his wife and children into a small apartment. As the years passed he began to struggle with his health and spiralled downwards into substance abuse; he separated from his wife Cora in 1992.

Jimmy found some temporary work working for the city of Los Angeles as a lifeguard but by 2000 he had become homeless, living on the streets of Los Angeles and occasionally turning up at the home of a friend or a relative. Now 62, photographer Kevin McCollister took a portrait of him on the streets of LA last year, still very obviously down on his luck.

I wish him well, and hope he gets his life back on track. I just hope he doesn’t decide to record again.

Here’s a little horror I picked up in a charity shop recently; a ‘hit’ on both sides of the Atlantic from way back in 1959.

Hugo & Luigi was the professional name of Americansongwriters and producers Luigi Creatore and Hugo Peretti. As well as sharing an office in New York's Brill Building, the pair were also cousins. They enjoyed a three-decade career as hit producers, they co-owned Roulette Records with Morris Levy and later took over the Avco/Embassy label (I remember seeing the Hugo and Luigi logo on Stylistics records back in the 70s: yes, I am that old!)

Peretti began his professional career as a teenage trumpet player before moving on to playing in the pits in many a Broadway orchestra; Creatore’s father had been the leader of a small orchestra in Italy and his siblings were also musicians. Although he came from a musical family, Luigi himself was a writer rather than a performer.

Hugo's wife was a children's book author. Peretti asked his cousin to help his wife develop some stories. The collaboration was not purely based on their familial relationship: after the war Luigi had written short stories and a novel and had been a speechwriter at the United Nations. They began working together for the children’s record company Peter Pan Records, before moving to Mercury and producing their first pop hit, The Little Shoemaker by the Italian-American vocal trio The Gaylords, which made Number 2 in 1954. Soon the cousins were securing hits for Sarah Vaughan, Georgia Gibbs, Jimmie Rodgers and others. The pair would often write together under the pseudonym Mark Markwell. When not composing together the boys would often produce anemic white versions of some of the great black R&B artists of the day including Etta James and LaVern Baker – which is exactly what was happening with Pat Boone over at Dot.

The duo were not averse to working with black artists – far from it: they were behind the Isley Brothers' raw, uproarious, Beatles and Lulu-covered Shout, which went on to sell over 1 million copies. They took on Sam Cooke and together produced hits including Chain Gang and Twistin' the Night Away. For the more mainstream white audience of the day they produced The Tokens, Perry Como and co-wrote Can't Help Falling In Love for Elvis Presley. They also recorded, under their own names, a series of saccharine albums as The Cascading Voices of the Hugo and Luigi Chorus. Under their own names they recorded the hit Rockabilly Party (theintro of which was ‘borrowed’ by Ian Hunter for the Mott the Hoople hit Roll Away the Stone).And then, in 1959, they made this.

La Plume de ma Tante, based on a phrase recognisable to anyone whose school was too cheap to shell out for new French text books, is a horrible slice of sub-Disney whimsy, and it cannot be a coincidence that Frank Sinatra scored a hit with another kid-led piece of kitsch, High Hopes, the very same year. According to Billboard magazine La Plume de ma Tante is ‘an attractive novelty sung in bright fashion by a children’s chorus. It’s cute and has possibilities’. No it isn’t: it’s vile. It’s beyond me how this travesty made the UK Top 30! It spent 10 weeks on the Cashbox charts, reaching Number 33, but barely registered at Billboard where, in a five-week run, it rose no higher than Number 86 before disappearing altogether. The B-side, Honolulu Lu, recorded a couple of years before H&L would re-visit Hawaii with Elvis, is dull and depressing: it sounds like the soundtrack to a particularly miserable travelogue - and therefore would have fitted quite nicely into an Elvis movie project. Neither side does justice to the careers of these two immensely talented men.

In the '70s, the duo bought Avco/Embassy Records, scoring international hits with the Stylistics and produced what is widely accepted as the first Number 1 of the disco era, Van McCoy's The Hustle. The cousins retired from the record business at the end of the 70s. Hugo Peretti died in 1986; Creatore’s play An Error of the Moon, which explores the relationship between actor Edwin Booth and his brother John Wilkes Booth, was stages in New York in 2010. He’s still alive today, aged 92.

Enjoy!

Another horror from Red Sovine– one of the first artists I featured on this blog all those years ago and one whose name keeps cropping up. This came from a pile of discs I purchased recently from fellow blogger and song-poem collector Bob Purse.

The Father of Judy Ann was issued as the flip of Ol’ Red’s 1968 single Between Closing Time and Dawn (both titles also feature on the 1969 album Closing Time ‘Til Dawn). It’s easily one of the most miserable recordings it has ever been my misfortune to own.

The Father of Judy Ann is the tale of a teenage girl who takes her life by drowning herself (shades of Dickey Lee’sPatches there), after falling in love with a married man and becoming pregnant by him.

I'm the father of Judy Ann, the girl you led astray

You're the reason my Judy Ann took her life today

I didn't come here just to scare you; I came here to use this gun

And you're gonna pay with your life for what you've done

It is, of course, utter rubbish; another ridiculous outing from a totally ridiculous artist. I know that I’ll get letters about this: every time I take a pot-shot at Country Western someone crawls out of the woodwork to call me out. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the Red Sovine canon is the best possible argument for banning Country Western music forever. At least Red sings this time, rather than employing his patented narrator voice – the style he used to such great effect on previous WWR posts Teddy Bear and Billy’s Christmas Wish.

The flipside is nowhere near as awful, although it still plumbs the usual Country music depths of booze, loneliness and despair. Thankfully it’s rather short.

Born in 1918, Woodrow Wilson “Red” Sovine was a minor star with a solid fan base both in the UK and the US. He’s known for perfecting the truck-and-trailer tragedy ballad, but he started out as a syrupy ballad singer who got his biggest break when Hank Williams, who managed to secure some regular radio work for the aspiring singer, championed him. Scoring 31 Country Chart hits during his long career, Red died from a heart attack at the wheel of his van in April 1980.

Anyway, enough misery: here’s both sides of Red’s 45 The Father of Judy Ann and Between Closing Time and Dawn.

Enjoy!

An extra post for you all this lovely, late summer Sunday.

It's not a 'bad' record at all, but if you've enjoyed the previous WWR posts about the fabulous Ellen Marty, I'd suggest you get yourselves over to our Facebook page, where you can download both sides of her 1965 45 This Time of Year/Billy Back.

Do it! It's ace!

Today’s disc – I’ll Fly Away and be at Rest – comes from the man who is now serving as Mayor of Riviera Beach, Florida, one Thomas Masters.

Mayor Thomas A Masters is currently in his fourth term as mayor of the City of Riviera Beach. But back in the 1960s he was better known as The Reverend Thomas H Masters (no, I don’t know why H then and A now, although I believe the H stood for Harrison) the Wonder Boy Preacher.

I’ll Fly Away and be at Rest, listed on the label as a ‘sermonette’, was issued by Rhoda Records when Masters was just nine years old. A precocious bugger, a year earlier he released another 45 – again on Rhoda Records – a recording of a sermon entitled A Fool on a Mule (in the Middle of the Road). Split over two sides of a 7”, this was credited to ‘8 year old Wonder Boy Preacher Thomas H Masters’, sans the Reverend. Confusingly the boy became ‘licensed’ as a preacher sometime between his eighth and ninth birthdays but wasn’t ordained until he was 12. By 16 he had issued four albums – What is Your Destiny in a Sinful and Dying World, The Midnight Cry, The Storm is Passing Over and Sometimes I Dream of Things and Say Why? Credited this time to Rev Thomas Masters the Wonder Boy, according to the liner notes on the last of these albums the Reverend Masters preached his first sermon at the tender age of three ‘before most children have acquired the knack of raiding the cookie jar’!

Now a Bishop as well as a Mayor, I feel a bit of a fraud for posting this. Bishop Masters seems to be a genuinely lovely man, very well-respected and clearly doing grand things in his community. He’s also been photographed with Barack and Michelle – a lot! But this is horrible and so deserves to be archived here – along with its’ B-Side The High Cost of Low Living - at the World’s Worst Records for all to hear. Master Masters has that ridiculous habit of gurning like a loon at the end of each line ‘I’m going to fly away–uhhhrgh/Lord Jesus I’m going to a land that will never go-uhhhrgh’… you get the idea. It’s not a truly awful record, in fact the backing chorus and accompanists are rather endearing, but the prepubescent caterwauling leaves a lot to be desired. he sounds as if he's trying to shift a particularly stubborn bowel movement.

Bishop Thomas is the youngest of the six children of the late Isabell Masters – an amazing woman who was a five-time third-party candidate for President of the United States. Her five presidential campaigns (on behalf of the Looking Back Party) are the most for any woman in U.S. history. Bishop Thomas’s father Alfred became the first African American to enlist in the United States Marines when he was sworn in on June 1, 1942. The marriage disintegrated after thy ear, leaving Isabell to raise six children alone. Despite that, she obtained her master's degree in higher education from the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) and later earned a doctorate from the University of Oklahoma during her late 60s. Bishop Thomas himself achieved a degree of notoriety when he protested efforts of George W. Bush’s legal team to stop the Florida election recount following the controversial 2000 United States presidential election.

She also helped Bishop Thomas start his preaching career. “Mother was supportive, but I really think she thought I would grow out of it,” he told the Palm Beach Post. “At the time I had a speech impediment and she was uncertain (but) she decided that if it was from God, I would preach.”

I feel even more of a heel now. Or should I say that I did until I discovered that the man who served more than 20 years as a community activist in California before relocating to Florida in 1987 to serve as pastor of the New Macedonia Baptist Church has also been prosecuted for rape against a disabled man with the mind of a seven-year-old. According to a 2003 story in the Palm Beach Post, Masters, his church and deacon ‘reached a $600,000 settlement with a mentally disabled man who accused the minister of rape.’

The report states that Masters and the church’s insurers negotiated the settlement with the man, who had accused Masters of coercing him to smoke crack cocaine and then raping him twice on church property over Thanksgiving weekend in 1991. Police investigated, but no charges were filed.

‘In 1998 a jury awarded the man more than $2 million after finding against Masters, and against his church and Deacon Joseph Lawrence for failing to investigate the allegations. But the 4th District Court of Appeal threw out that verdict in June, citing procedural errors during the first trial and noting that the mentally disabled man had repeatedly changed his story.

The parties opted to negotiate a settlement instead of going to trial again.’

Whatever the truth of the matter may be Mayor Bishop Masters - as he likes to be referred to - has testified before the United Nations Human Rights Commission in Geneva and has led marches against drug dealing, drive-by shootings, the Ku Klux Klan and the 2000 presidential election results. He also challenged state and national laws that allow minors to be sentenced to death and to be sent to adult prisons.

But this record is still horrible.

Enjoy!

A very quick post today, as I'm about to take a much-needed week off - heading with a bunch of friends to Welsh Wales to make the most of the dying days of summer.

Today's horror seems to be the only 45 released by the late comedian Frank Carson, the genial Irishman whose catchphrase 'It's the way I tell 'em' had them rolling in the aisles in the 70s thanks to the popularity of such TV shows as The Comedians. Another regular on that show - Mike Reid - had a fair bit of success with his recordings and so had many other comedians. So why not our Frank.

Well, probably because the chosen song is a pile of crap.

Based on a playground clapping game rhyme (eeney-meeny-macca-racca...) which I can still recall from my now-distant childhood, Ip Dip Chibberdy Dip is an awful, awful record. So awful in fact that when Decca issued the single in Holland the company couldn't even be bothered to check on who the artist was - pasting a picture of fellow comedian Freddie Starr on the sleeve instead!

A year later the same song was issued on a 45 in Europe by the female trio Cool Breeze, credited to the same arrangement and production team of Solomon and Blackwell . I've not been able to track that version down (yet!) but I'll bet it's exactly the same recording with Frank's vocals erased and Cool Breeze's slathered over the top.

Anyway, for now enjoy both sides of Frank Carson's 1973 non-hit Ip Dip Chibberdy Dip and Try It, You'll Like It.

I find something deeply offensive about this kind of music: it actually sickens me to the core. It's not because I hate classical music or classical performers - far from it. I just cannot fathom why anyone would attempt a crossover as ridiculous as this. I hate the recent glut of pseudo-classical vocal acts knocking out pop standards (come the glorious day I'd gladly put people like Il Divo and those awful Welsh brothers who won the X Factor in front of a firing squad). Pavarotti's attempts at pop were beyond embarrassing, and don't get me started on Freddie Mercury's ridiculous diva act.

But before anyone had heard any of Russell Watson's godawful 'pop' output a half dozen posh boys from King's College, Cambridge began their now 45-year career bastardising the great pop songs of the day. This 'band'The King's Singers, are responsible for some of the most reprehensible recordings ever made, including the one I present for you today - their unfathomably bad version of David Bowie's classic Life on Mars.

The King's Singers are a British a cappella vocal ensemble founded in 1968, but whose roots reach back as far as 1965. Named after King's College in Cambridge (where the group was formed), prior to the establishment of the six-piece, male-only group several of the parts were taken by other singers.

Although the line up has changed over the years (none of the original members are still in the group and at one pint they even – shock, horror – had three female singers) the six man Singers gave the first concert on May 1, 1968 at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, London and they are still an inexplicably popular draw today: the ensemble travels worldwide, appearing in around 125 concerts annually in Europe, the U.S, the Far East and the People's Republic of China. These concerts are typically divided into five distinct groups of pieces, with madrigals, folk songs and so on from the acts ‘serious’ material, followed by a selection of ‘lighter fare’, including songs by The Beatles, Billy Joel and Queen. And, it would seem, David Bowie.

The King’s Singers have released around 50 albums so far. Given an average running time of 40 minutes, that’s over 33 hours of this nonsense. And that doesn’t include the endless list of compilations. Two of the founding members – Alistair Hume and Simon Carrington – managed 28 years with the group (1965-1993): David Hurley is the act’s current longest-serving member, having joined in 1989 and still performing today.

Anyway, here are the King's Singers and their horrid version of Life on Mars, from their 1982 album For Your Pleasure. As a bonus, I've also included their murderous version of American Pie from their 1991 collection Good Vibrations.

Enjoy!

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I’m sure that the vast majority of you can recall that jaw-dropping moment when you first heard Telly ‘Kojak’ Savalas open up his maw to destroy the David Gates song If; his flat, emotionless ‘sing-speak’ performance inexplicably catapulting the TV cop to Number One in the UK charts in 1975.

What you may not know is that Telly released a string of awful albums and singles during a decade-long personal vendetta against decency and good taste. And here are a couple of prime examples from his 1974 album Telly - You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling (issued in several countries as the follow-up single to If) and his cover of the Peter Skellern hit You’re a Lady, plus the A-side of his obscure 1975 UK single Who Loves Ya Baby.

Greek-American actor Aristotelis "Telly" Savalas (January 21, 1922 – January 22, 1994) enjoyed a career which spanned four decades. The second of five children, he was best known for playing the title role in the 1970s crime drama Kojak, which ran for five years and built on Telly’s success in the TV movie The Marcus-Nelson Murders (1972). Savalas’s other credits include parts in the movies The Young Savages (1961), Pilate in The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965), the Battle of the Bulge (1965) and The Dirty Dozen (1967). He played supervillain Ernst Stavro Blofeld in the James Bond film On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969) and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for his performance in The Birdman of Alcatraz (1962). A fine actor he may have been: a world-class poker player he may have been as well – but a singer he certainly wasn’t...as these three tracks amply prove.

Telly's recording career kicked off in 1972, pre-Kojak, with the album This Is Telly Savalas (featuring covers of Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash songs)for DJM. However it was only after he gained worldwide fame as the lollipop-sucking detective that he struck pop gold. Over the next 10 years he released a further half-dozen albums in the US and Europe. He was surprisingly popular in Switzerland, where he somehow managed to record and release two different songs – Some Broken Hearts Never Mend (which unbelievably topped the Swiss charts in 1981) and Lovin’ Understanding Man (recorded the same year) - utilising almost exactly the same backing track!

As an aside his brother George - who appeared in Kojak as the inept sidekick Sergeant Stavros - also recorded, although his album of traditional Greek melodies - Hellas, You're Beautiful, I Love You - is actually quite good.

Enjoy!

Politics and Drugs and Rock and Roll

Moroder's Munich Mess

I Wonder Why?

Evil, Evel

Foreign Devils

Football? Crazy!

Reco (the Return)

Put that Spoon Down!

Absolute Agony

The Speciality of the Day

Introducing Gary Bradford

It's Not Easy Being Green

This Bites

My Aunt's Pen

Poor Old Red

Extra Ellen

Boy Wonder

Om Pom Push

Life in Hell

Who Loves Ya, Baby?