Back To Nostalgia and Show Biz Stories

Published by Rick on Tagged Uncategorized

I’m gonna leave Trump and Brexit out of the discussion this time around, as both nauseate me, and I’ve reiterated that point enough times.

That said, in the past week, I have noticed two obituaries for singers that few would recognise by name, and only a few more would remember the groups they were associated with. One was Chuck Barksdale, age 84, bass singer with The Dells, the other was Willie Ford, age 68, one of the founding members of The Dramatics. Between the two groups, they had a total of exactly ONE chart entry in the UK, but they not only had long strings of US R&B hits in the 70’s, they also had a couple crossover Pop hits along the way. More personally, the mention of both groups brought back memories involved with seeing them perform live.

By 1971, I had given up on Rock music, as the trend toward Soft Rock was putting me to sleep, so I was keeping my radio on KDIA, the Bay Area’s major Soul Music station. I also pretty much shunned Rock concerts in favour of going to Oakland, Berkeley and San Francisco ghetto clubs to see excellent R&B acts, ignoring the fact that my partner and I were among a handful of white people in these clubs, and each trip to those venues was risky. We perhaps foolishly didn’t think too much about the risks.

One of the acts I truly loved was The Dells, possibly the only 50’s Doo-Wopp group to remain together with the same personnel and have bigger hits in the Soul era. In 1972, they were performing at The Showcase Theatre in Oakland, and I had this great idea related to my burgeoning record collection. I’d found a music shop in San Francisco’s Mission District that had been in the same location since the 1950’s, and had a whole basement full of unsold and unplayed 78 RPM records. While most of the really good R&B and Country records had already been picked over, I still managed to get a few 78’s on the Vee Jay Record label from Chicago, for which The Dells recorded in the 50’s, along with John Lee Hooker. I decided to bring one of their 78’s to the concert and see if I could get them to autograph it.

What an amazing show they put on! All five of them had magnificent voices that blended so beautifully together. Their lead singer, Marvin Junior, was a big man with an even bigger voice that singers like Teddy Pendergrass no doubt studied extensively, and he was complemented by the equally incredible falsetto vocal of Johnny Carter. So after an hour of being totally blown away by their show, it was time to make my move. Armed with the 78 (“Why Do You Have To Go/Dance, Dance, Dance” Vee Jay #236, if you must know), I walked directly behind Marvin Junior, tapped him on the shoulder, and as he turned around, I said, “I got something here that might interest you.” He was impressed, and invited me and my partner inside to meet the group and get the 78 autographed (I still have it, but the signatures have faded).

On top of that, their road manager asked if I could get another copy. I said probably so, and he gave me a local number to call. I scored another copy the next day, and called the guy, who said if I’d like, there was a pre-show party at the same venue, and my partner and I could come as guests of The Dells. I was all of 21 at this time, so was easily won over. We were among the first guests to arrive, which was awkward, but I was greeted by Chuck Barksdale, who remembered me, and I didn’t recognise him at first, which created an embarrassing exchange. After a bit of nervous banter, I put my foot in it as I asked him, “Are you affiliated with The Dells?” completely ignoring the unmistakable bass tone in his voice that had graced so many sexy monologues in Dells records. Barry White no doubt was inspired by him. I never heard the end of that one from my partner. We stayed about an hour, mostly talking to the road manager, who thanked us for getting the record for him, and he told us a few stories, most having to do with their songs. I would use 78’s as barter in the next year or so to get backstage at shows by Esther Phillips, Joe Tex, and Rufus Thomas later on.

As for The Dramatics, I never met them, but did get to see them twice. The first time was as the openers for James Brown in 1971, just at the time their biggest crossover hit, “Whatcha See Is Whatcha Get,”  was peaking. They were phenomenal, and thankfully so was James Brown. I could imagine him getting riled if his opener was too good.

Two years later, we decided to see them again at New Ruthie’s Inn in Berkeley, as they were sharing the bill with another group we really liked, The Whispers, who would have several hits in the 80’s (“It’s A Love Thing,” “And The Beat Goes On,” “Rock Steady”). Sadly, we would hardly notice the performances at all, and it would be our last venture into that territory.  As the waitress brought us our drinks, my partner set her purse on the floor for a second to clear space, and during those two seconds, her wallet was stolen. What made it really awful was we knew who had stolen it, and they dared us to try to do something about it. I remember going outside and phoning the police, whose attitude was basically, “You want us to come THERE?”

So came an ignominious end to what was still a really fun couple of years, and though we would see many Soul/Funk acts in years to come, we would see them in larger, more integrated venues. It was still a wonderful time, and sad to see so few of those who entertained us over that period are still among us. Only two of The Dells and only one of the original Dramatics survive.

May 30th, 2019



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