»Been To Church Lately?«

Remember Al Bundy's motto »Sunday Funday«? Well, I can't say that of today, unfortunately. Sky's grey, climate's goin' wild and my nose's runnin'. So what about today's post? I try to make the best of it.

United Artists LP # UA-LA203-G (1974)

I'd like to speak about an album that left me puzzled. Its title is »The Gospel According to Ike And Tina«. What Gospel could that possibly be? one might ask. Somebody on the net put it thus: »Tina Turner singing Gospel music?!!!« Very tricky question, this one. A tentative answer must come in two parts.
     First: We cannot judge the religious senti- ment of individuals. On the face of it, Ike (son of a Baptist minister) certainly didn't come across as a model believer, and looking at how he behaved towards others (and towards Tina in particular) must leave us sceptical of whether he had understood even the most basic precepts of Christian teaching. However, it might be objected that he was too weak a person to live a righteous life, and it has been correctly remarked that God doesn't love sin but he still loves the sinner. So be it, and let's leave it that for Ike is no longer among us. Judgment is pending.
     And Tina? She's a hard one, too. As a child she grew up in a Baptist and Pente- costal context. The services of the latter she found »more exciting«, but she didn't really connect to the worship. »I knew I could never be part of that religion« she said. »But for a little girl, those sanctified services were something to see« (quoted in her autobiography I, Tina, p. 17). She was impressed by the music and dancing that was going on, yet later in life she also said that she was really singing »Baptist and blues«. During her '60s career, there were little, if any, signs of outward affil- iation to any church. And as she was more and more criticized for her too blatantly sexy and provocative stage appearance towards the end of the decade acceptance of her person in church circles was nil. Her private life was always troubled, though, and Tina was later to state: »I had always held on to the Bible and the things I'd learned as a little girl ... And I prayed every night, you can believe that« (I, Tina, p. 171). Then, famously, she got introduced to Nichiren Buddhism, and although it is impossible to say exactly when it must have happened sometime around the time Ike & Tina recorded their gospel-album (in October-November 1973), possibly even before that. Officially (or semi-officially) she's been counted a Buddhist since 1975.
     And another point worth considering: Does it need religious convictions to sing gospel? Or even to like gospel as music? Is it something intrinsically Christian, closed to other religious approaches, or to non-religious-minded people for that matter? Another tricky question that will get many answers according to whom you ask. I leave it open but would, in any case, not favor any answer that starts with a categorical yes or no. However, leaving this question open leads us conveniently on to the second part.

* * *

Second: In 1974, the boom of everything that could be labeled »soul-gospel« or even »pop-gospel« was at its very height. Myriads of acts, from both the gospel and secular fields, ventured into this realm, and a large group of former »secular« soul singers, having lost both the public and most of the independent record companies in the early '70s, went gospel. In token that this development did not pass unnoticed by the music industry, the Grammy Academy was handing out awards in the category »Best Soul Gospel Performance« since 1969 (Ike & Tina's 1974 album was shortlisted for this Award but didn't win it), and Billboard adopted the category »Soul Gospel« in autumn 1973. Aretha Franklin's return to Gospel in 1972 was of momentous importance, and many others, not the least among them the Staple Singers and Andrae Crouch, had prepared this trend. Nina Simone, who was, I believe, sincere to the bone and never did something with the exclusive aim of pleasing either the public or her label, released »The Gospel According To Nina Simone« (Stroud LP # 1006) in 1973. Then, when the soul gospel train was rollin', Ike & Tina jumped on it, a little belatedly, in 1974.
     This, at least, is the less sympathetic interpretation of why they recorded a gospel album. Given that during these years they struggled hard but (with the exception of »Nutbush City Limits«) mostly in vain to put their name back on the charts it seemed a good idea to switch to soul gospel for a change. In a kinder mood, however, we could equally conclude that at this point in their checkered career the duo was ripe for gospel. Tina certainly was, in a sense. After all, I am still puzzled of what lies behind that album, really.

* * *

Let's talk about the LP and the music. The album was hyped by United Artists with a fullpage-ad in Billboard (May 25, 1974). The accompanying text does suggest that Ike & Tina were playing around with some gospel tunes in the studio, then realized how »uplifting and exciting« it was and finally went about producing this album. Well, I'm not convinced. And much of my credulity is shattered by what we find at the bottom of the ad: »Been to church lately?« What a stupid slogan: Congrats to the promotion & sales guy at UA for having come up with this! Certainly he hadn't, lately.
     Then let's have a look at what the Billboard critic had to say about this album:

»... this gospel LP is a strong and successful attempt to bring the commercial world of soul music to the church. Not the church to soul music as is usually the case. The weakest point in the LP is Ike's vocalizings. Otherwise the pro- duct makes lots of sense for all the energy and urgency of the Turner's music is aptly put to use on this their first LP of gospel tunes. There is enough church choir sounds behind the instruments ot take us all on a religious trip.« (April 27, 1974, page 53).

This critic must have been a close relative of the UA sales manager. Apart from that I don't get the point fully of what he meant by bringing soul to church and not vice versa, he felt enough uplifted by what he had heard to get the swoop of a religious trip. That it had little to do with traditional religion, however, was not lost on him as becomes clear from his final advice for record dealers: »This is commercial, not pure gospel, so it can be stocked with the Turner's other soul products.« What sort of reasoning is this? It seems that the reviewer was, after all, aware that this wasn't a LP a record dealer would like to put under the eyes of the gospel buying public. And what does it tell us about the reviewer's religious trip? Was it to be a »commercial« one, not »pure gospel«? Ike could have given him some useful advice for that!

* * *

As to the music, yes, Ike's singing is pitiful. He just hadn't a voice for it and should probably never have attempted it. Of his three songs, »Father Alone« (the opening song) stands out as the most miserable performance, as he clumsily talks his deep voice through to the final bar. Two songs, »Amazing Grace« and »When The Saints Go Marching In«, are duets of Ike & Tina. The remaining five songs featuring Tina (& the Ikettes) alone are much better, as Tina never did something really bad. However, to me she sounds very professional and it's not easy to tell how much she was into it. On the stylistic side, the entire LP repeats the by then well-known formula of heavily synthesized uptempo funkrock as we know it from Ike & Tina's preceding LPs »Let Me Touch Your Mind« and »Nutbush City Limits«. To be truthful, I have become somewhat bored of that sound which, with too sparse variation, tends to become easily tedious (what might be called the James-Brown-effect ... no offense!). It bores me, up to a point, throughout the entire album. And historical hindsight helps us to see that Ike & Tina were near the end of their common way. They did not, as is known, part on musical grounds. It finished in 1976 when Tina, with blood on her clothes and sunglasses to cover her swollen eyes, presented herself at the reception of the Dallas Ramada Inn and pleaded for a room, although she hadn't any money to pay for it. But it did also finish because, musically, they were stuck. Blame for this most often went to Ike who wasn't a 100% gifted composer anyway and towards '74 finally run out of his creative wits.
     Solid cuts on this gospel album, featuring Tina, are »Walk With Me Lord«, »Nearer The Cross« and »Our Lord Will Make A Way«. You can hear them in the following. My personal favorite is »Our Lord Will Make A Way«, the very epitome of a synthesized-funk-soul-gospel tune, Turner style. Happy Funday!

Ike & Tina Turner and feat. The Ikettes: »Nearer The Cross« / »Our Lord Will Make A Way«

from the United Artists LP »The Gospel According To Ike And Tina« (1974):

Threesome

Some days ago I tried to analyze the deeper levels of the kiddie song »On The Good Ship Lollipop«. We find it on the album »In The Midnight Hour« (Revue LP # 7205) by The Mirettes. As is known, the »Mirettes« of 1968 actually were the former »Ikettes«, three female singers who were, understandably, so pissed off by Ike Turner's regime (and his envy of their success!) that they left his revue and went their own way, billing themselves as the »Mirettes«. Their 1968 LP was released towards the beginning of the year, and in the Billboard issue from February 24, 1968, we find a nice full-page ad showing the Mirettes (see also below).

From left to right: Robbie Montgomery, Jessie Smith and Venetta Fields:

Because their LP contains, apart from »On The Good Ship Lollipop«, several other songs worth listening to, I didn't want to hold them back. And because we're dealing with a trio I thought three songs might do them justice. The first two songs are originals that at the time were also released as singles.

The first song, »I'm A Whole New Thing«, is an uptempo song that much recalls, from the very first bars, »In The Midnight Hour«. It is a very danceable tune which I like a lot.
The second song, »The Real Thing«, is a ballad and actually a showcase for the blessed voice of Venetta Fields. It is lavishly orchestrated and introduced by a somewhat melodramatic, slightly bombastic part that exhibits much »churchy feel«.

Finally, the third song, »In The Midnight Hour«, is a cover of Wilson Pickett's great hit (r&b # 01 in the summer of 1965). Comparing it with the numerous cover ver- sions of Pickett's song in existence I always thought that the Mirettes really did a good job. Their recording stands out among the many others we have of that song.

The Mirettes:

»I'm A Whole New Thing« / »The Real Thing« / »In The Midnight Hour« from the Revue LP 7205 (1968):

From BILLBOARD, February 24, 1968

Fontella & Tina

In 1963, Fontella Bass was still 24 months away from her great breakthrough that came with »Don't Mess Up A Good Thing« (Checker, with Bobby McClure, r&b # 05) in spring 1965, followed by the mega-hit »Rescue Me« (Checker, r&b # 01) in autumn. Ike & Tina Turner on the other hand were rather past their prime success in 1963 ... »A Fool In Love«, »I Idolize You«, »Tra La La La«, all on Sue Records, had charted but there were no new hits on the horizon.

However, in 1963 Ike Turner arranged some recordings with Fontella Bass as the lead-singer. Bass who hailed from St. Louis had met the Turners in her home town because they frequently appeared there on stage. The first of these recordings is Fontella's song »My Good Loving«, recorded right at St. Louis. It was released on Prann # 5005, and The Ikettes provided the backing vocals (uncredited on the single). And although the single was officially produced by »Ike and Tina Turner«, on its label we read only »Fontella Bass with Oliver Sain Orchestra«:

Fontella Bass (feat. The Ikettes): »My Good Loving« (Prann # 5005A):

In the same year another single was released, this time for the Vesuvius label which was a subsidiary of Pompeii Records from Dallas. (I've always loved this name! I wonder if they were ever thinking of establishing other subsidiaries and calling them »Pliny Jr. Records« or »Volca-No« ... possibly releasing songs like »Ashes To Ashes« by »Craterman & The Lava Flowers« ...) And it was again Ike Turner who was behind that because he not only figures as producer but also played guitar on the recording. Fontella this time was not only accompanied by The Ikettes, but by Tina Turner herself. However, Tina only sings on the A-side »Poor Little Fool« which is why the billing on the label says »Fontella Bass and Tina Turner«. On the B-side, »This Would Make Me Happy«, there is only the voice of Fontella. In any case, Tina's contribution to »Poor Little Fool« is limited to the melodical main part of the song: »Poor little fool, why can't you see / This romance will never be«. In this part she accompanies Fontella in what is basically a close-harmony-duet. Yet the song is remarkable not only for being a fine, bluesy r&b-ballad, but also for being the only recording from the 1960s, as far as I know, where you can hear Tina Turner together with another female singer (apart from the Ikettes, of course). And yes, in general Tina was not used to playing the second fiddle ...

Fontella Bass (feat. Tina Turner*);

»Poor Little Fool*« / »This Would Make Me Happy« from Vesuvius # 1002 (1963):

NOTE
Some discographies list Vesuvius # 1002 as a recording (and, consequently, as a release) from 1964. According to most of the information I have this is not correct, but on the other hand, information is scarce regarding this 45. So maybe 1964 it is. We gonna find out some day.

POSTSCRIPT  Oct. 17, 2011
There is now an enthusiastic review of »Poor Little Fool« over at Voyager's World. Check it out!

A Kiddie Song ... Sort of Funky

»On The Good Ship Lollipop« (1968)

In the movie »Bright Eyes« from 1934 we are entertained by child star Shirley Temple, six years old at the time. She delivers a nursery rhyme which soon was to become hugely popular ... to become in fact »one of the most famous of all kiddie songs« (Roy Hemming: The Melody Lingers On. The Great Songwriters and Their Movie Musicals, New York 1999, p. 309). On the face of it, this does not seem pretty astonishing. But wait and see.

The song of little Shirley Temple is entitled »On The Good Ship Lollipop«, perfectly normal for a kiddie song and nothing to wonder about. Shirley performs this song in the movie in a scene that is set in an airplane. Therefore, the »ship« of the song seems to refer to an airplane, even though this is, from a linguistic point of view, far from obvious. As far as I can say, the word »airship« does exist in English, but it denotes either a rigid air craft of the »zeppelin« type or a balloon, that is any lighter-than-air self-propelled craft. Which excludes airplanes in the proper sense. However, the movie scene clearly is set in an airplane, and Shirley even runs along the aisle with her arms spread and flapping them up and down, imitating an airplane. Still less unmistakable is the beginning of the song which runs:

I've thrown away my toys, even my drum and train.
I want to make some noise with real live aeroplanes.
Some day I'm going to fly, I'll be a pilot too.
And when I do, how would you like to be my crew?

So the »good ship« is an airplane. Children won't be unduly bothered. They accept folded paper as airplanes so why not a »lollipop ship«? The fantasy of a child will further be positively stimulated by the fact that this airship can land on a chocolate bar as the refrain of the song says: »Happy landing on a chocolate bar«.

This is all fine and well, as far as it goes. But let's go a bit farther! In the year 1968, the song was recorded again and then appeared in an unusual context. We find it, now transmuted into a groovy soul tune, on an album of the Mirettes. The Mirettes were actually the Ikettes. They were forced to change their name because Ike Turner had prohibited them from using their original name. This happened after they had left the Turner-Revue in September 1965 and started to perform on their own. The Mirettes (now ex-Ikettes) consisted, at his point, of Robbie Montgomery, Venetta Fields and Jessie Smith. Alline Bullock, Tina Turner's sister, said about the new career of the ex-Ikettes:

»These were the real Ikettes, but we found out they couldn't use the name, because Ike owned it. He had marshals to keep us from going onstage–subpoenas, restraining orders–on every trip. Then we tried "The Mariettes, formerly the Ikettes," but he didn't want that either. Finally we just dropped it.« (Tina Turner with Kurt Loder: I, Tina. My Life Story, New York 1986, p. 113)

Revue LP # 7205 (1968)

On their LP In The Midnight Hour« (Revue LP # 7205), released in 1968, the Mirettes present the old kiddie song »On The Good Ship Lollipop« in a new vest: funky. And hearing this funky song, we suddenly, and almost unwillingly, perceive the deeper level of its funky lyrics ... the song had brought a fortune to songwriter Sidney Clare, and after listening to the Mirettes' version of it I started to wonder what Clare had in mind when he penned the lyrics. Well, simply start with listening to the version of the Mirettes and pay attention to the lyrics. (The lyrics are abbreviated compared with Shirley Temple's version and begin right with the refrain):

The Mirettes: »On The Good Ship Lollipop« from the Revue LP »In The Midnight Hour« (1968):

On the good ship Lollipop, it's a sweet trip to the candy shop
Where the bonbons play on the sunny shores of Peppermint Bay

Lemonade stands everywhere, crackerjack bands fill the air
And there you are: Happy landing on a chocolate bar!

See the sugar bowl do the Tootsie Roll with the big bad devil's smooth cake
If you eat too much, hooh, hooh - You'll awake with a tummyache!

On the good ship Lollipop, it's a nice trip into the value hop
And there you are: Happy landing on a chocolate bar!

And there you are: Happy landing on a chocolate bar
And there you are: Happy landing on a chocolate bar ...

What do you think? I can tell you what I think: Quite obviously, the song is filled to the brim with more or less unequivocal sexual metaphors that go far beyond any simple »innuendo«: we have the »candy shop« (!), the »sunny shores of Peppermint Bay« (!) and not to mention the »lemonade stands«! But the best is yet to come: The highlight of any 18+ reading of this song's lyrics will have to concentrate on the following passage: »see the sugar bowl do the tootsie roll«! Among music buffs, it would here need an gargantuan effort not to think of Bessie Smith's salacious blues »I Want A Little Sugar In My Bowl« which, of course, was always meant as a sexual metaphor (and understood to be so by all singers who performed the song: Nina Simone, Rheta Hughes etc.). Indeed, once you are on the right track, it needs little fantasy to guess what a tootsie roll« has to do in a »sugar bowl« ... 'Nuff said, I presume you got the point, obvious as it is.

We may ask: Did the Mirettes know what they were recording? Well, I think they pretty much did, or rather, the ambiguous salaciousness of this seemingly innocent kiddie song is the very explanation of why we find that song on their album. In any case, I find it difficult to hear or »read« that song »innocently« once I heard it performed by the Mirettes. But we don't need the Mirettes for that, really. The song's lyrics, if only they are »read« in the proper perspective, do invite the less-than-innocent interpretation. Back in 1961, Allen Ginsberg already had had this intuition when he went about to compose his own lyrics for our kiddie song, to sing, as he writes explicitly, »after the melody of On The Good Ship Lollipop«:

On the good ship Lollipop, won't you come and suck my cock?
Wontcha gobble it please? I'll be glad to give you alla my cheese.

On the good ship Lollipop, you can f**k me with a mop,
You can lick my ass on the poopdeck or on top of the mast.

(quoted from Allen Ginsberg: Early Fifties. Early Sixties. Journals, ed. Gordon Ball, New York 1977, p. 279 f.)

Yes, it sounds crude. It is crude. I personally don't like it: Ginsberg's hardcore rhyme is so pathetically direct and does so emphatically negate the charms of subtility and ambiguity. And it is so very typical of the '60s beat-generation: They thought a message will be heard only if it's couched in crude and unequivocal terms ... which eventually led them to gross vulgarity and nothing else. You can see that in the pitiful writings of Ginsberg, Lennon and all the others. R.I.P.

The Mirettes, on the other hand, made Ginsberg's point by sticking to the original lyrics, and thus they made the much stronger point. And the general public, by the end of the 1960s, had already got the point ...

The term »Come on the good ship... Lollipop« was used, with clear sexual innuendo, in Bernardo Berto- lucci's erotic movie Last Tango in Paris (1972). Moreover, if you start to google the term you will quickly realize that it is used as a chiffre for sex in a wide range of contexts. On the other hand, »on the good ship Lollipop« also denotes something like »on the sunny side of life«, not surprisingly often used in respect to childhood. In this vein, the actress Joan Crawford is quoted by Annette Tapert with the following words: »"Not one good moment on the Good Ship Lollipop" is how Crawford described her childhood. "Boardinghouses, hash joints, and dime stores"« (The Power of Glamour: The Women Who Defined the Magic of Stardom, New York 1998 p. 42).

Notwithstanding its deeper levels of ambiguity, the song »On The Good Ship Lollipop« has been able to preserve its superficial innocence until today. It is still perceived, in a bourgeois and more often than not middle-class context, as a »kiddie song« which is just the right tune for a happy birthday party. The children will be provided with funny lollipops while they sing along. Even serious academic literature dealing with the curriculum of nursery schools and the like does list the song as a good example of how to teach children to learn playfully about ... ships, of all things:

»Boat Songs: Have students sing songs such as "Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore"; "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean"; Row Row Row Your Boat"; "Sailing Sailing"; and "On the Good Ship Lollipop" (...). Afterward, have students discuss their experiences on boats.« (quoted from Multidisciplinary Units for Prekindergarten Through Grade 2 der International Society for Technology in Education, 2003).

Let's hope they never find out the song does not deal with a ship. Not to mention all the rest ...!

Happy landing on the chocolate bar!