THE GREATEST SONGS OF THE 1960s THAT NO ONE HAS EVER HEARD
Bobby Jameson’s (see #219, 1,255, 1,303) story is tragic and enthralling, one of bad luck, bad people, bad decisions, and mental illness — see the end of this blog for some history. But the story for today is Jameson flying to London to record the vocals along with the Rolling Stones’ manager Andrew Loog Oldham and Mick Jagger for a single, the A-side written by Oldham and Keith Richards and the B-side written by Jagger and Richards, guitar solos courtesy of Jimmy Page. Oh, and Jameson trying to convince Jagger that the Stones were as big in America as the Beatles!
Jameson recalled that:
I had already received a letter from Andrew Loog Oldham in England . . . . an offer . . . of sorts that basically stated, “If you ever get to London I’d be interested in working with you.” My previous disregard to his invitation now looked like my chance to leave America and get as far away from Tony [Alamo, his manager] as I could. . . .
Once the people in London were satisfied the letter I had received was indeed legitimate, they agreed to finance me coming to London. They arranged pretty much everything and I assume, because I have never known, that they were in for some sort of piece of the action, believing it was a sure fire arrangement with a substantial benefit for them in the long run. . . . It wasn’t important to me at the time, how I got there, it was that I got out of California and as far from Tony as I could. . . .
That’s why I went to England. Most people thought . . . that it was a big opportunity for me to go there and record with Mick Jagger. But what they don’t know is that by me going to England at that time, I killed my career in America. My record “I’m So Lonely” was left to die when I vanished, and I do mean vanished. . . .
After some time, we all ended up in the studio with Andrew. Up until then I’d heard nothing about what he wanted to work on with me . . . . Andrew said he was going to play me a track that he’d already recorded called “All I Want Is My Baby.” . . . I listened intently to what came out of the speakers. It sounded a bit like a Phil Spector track, but not as well organized. In the middle of the song was a fuzz tone guitar solo, that, at that time, was pretty much off the wall. . . . [T]he song didn’t sound anything remotely close to what I did personally. As the tape came to an end Andrew and Mick looked at me in anticipation of my reaction. “Well what do you think Bobby, is that f*cking great or what?” asked Andrew. I was stuck. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but I didn’t want to be forced to lie about my opinion either. “Yeah, well that’s pretty cool, Andrew, and I really like the guitar part, who’s that playing?” I asked. “A member of a group called The Poets, said Andrew, “named Jimmy Page.” At the time the name meant nothing to me because I’d never heard it before. “It’s a great track,” I said, “but I don’t know if it’s my kind of song, I mean, like something I’d do.” There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. “Well let me play it again,” said Andrew, “and show you how the vocal’s supposed to go so you can get a better idea of what I want.” . . . “Ok,” I said reluctantly. . . . [T]he track boomed out through the studio. [Andrew] picked up a paper with the lyrics and started singing them for me, and then Mick began filling in with back-up vocals. . . . I tried hard to concentrate on what Andrew wanted, as I eyed the lyric sheet, trying to sing what he was singing. I felt like sh*t inside . . . . I waved at Andrew to stop the tape so I could talk to him and the studio went quiet. “What’s wrong Bobby?’ he asked. “Look,” I said, “I don’t think this is my kinda song. Can I play you a couple of things I wrote so you can get an idea of how I sing?” He looked at me and said “No! I’m not interested in hearing your songs Bobby. I need you to concentrate on this song and get the vocal right, because I know you can do it.” . . . I said, “Ok, play it again.” The tape rolled over and over and over. My vocal got better, but I never thought it was much good. . . . I was jet lagged and miserable. I was ready to walk out, but stayed. At some point, Andrew suggested recording my vocal with the track so I could get a better idea of what it sounded like by hearing it. I agreed, and we pushed on. After awhile both Mick and Andrew teamed up on background vocals, as I sang the lead. After hours of working, Andrew said that was enough. “What a relief!” I thought, because I was spent . . . . Andrew seemed pleased . . . but I was not. The possible exception to that was when we worked on another song for awhile just to change things up. The song was was called “Each And Every Day” . . . . It was far easier to learn and to sing . . . . Not long after that one and only recording session, I was informed that the rough track I’d been led to believe was just for rehearsal was being released on Decca Records as a single . . . .
The record came out . . . preceded by a lot of promotion. I’ll give Andrew Oldham and Decca UK their due, they pumped the record hard, but that made it worse for me personally because I had no faith in it. . . . All of a sudden I was doing interview after interview and I didn’t even like the record. I was torn between the hype and the fear that it would bomb, which it did. I kept trying to get to see Andrew, but it was no use, he was not talking to me. I started making up things about myself to deflect the interest in me, but it just seemed to make things worse. I took to wearing one “black glove” as a goof, and it got famous. I did a story with a London newspaper on “the Glove,” which it became known as, and people took it seriously. . . . I was getting the star treatment alright, but underneath the outward appearances I was just plain worried about having to go on British television to lip sync the record. In my gut I knew it was gonna be bad, but when it actually happened it was worse. I tried everything I could think of to get people to reconsider what they were doing. I told them all “Let’s do the other side, “Each And Every Day,” it’s a better record.””No!” they said, “We’re not going to do that Bobby, it’s gonna be fine.” It was not fine. . . .
It became apparent that Oldham had done a one shot deal with his Bobby Jameson project, and if “All I Want Is My Baby” wasn’t a big hit, which it wasn’t, he was not planning to do a follow up. . . .
http://bobbyjameson.blogspot.com/2007_12_24_archive.html, http://bobbyjameson.blogspot.com/2007_12_27_archive.html, http://bobbyjameson.blogspot.com/2007_12_28_archive.html, http://bobbyjameson.blogspot.com/2008_01_02_archive.html?m=1, http://bobbyjameson.blogspot.com/2008_01_09_archive.html, http://bobbyjameson.blogspot.com/2008_01_15_archive.html
Andrew Loog Oldham recalled that “Jameson had arrived in the UK as part of the P.J. Proby flock. He wore one black glove and was Walker Brother pretty head to foot — he could have been a Walker Brother. All of that and being American was enough of a calling card in those days to get you recorded.” (2Stoned)
This conversation between Bobby and Mick is a hoot:
I stared at [Mick] for a moment, trying to make sure it was him and just blurted out “Hi Mick!” . . . Strangely enough he was really low key and kind of bashful it seemed. It surprised me . . . . After asking about our flight over, Mick moved directly to the subject of America. . . . He asked about The Beatles and said, “They’re really huge over there aren’t they?” “Yeah,” I said, “but you guys are just about as big.” Then the strangest thing happened. Mick said, “No way man, no way.” “No, really Mick,” I said, “The Stones are just about as big there as The Beatles.” He just stared at me, as if he were trying to figure out whether I was bullshitting him or not. “You’re having me on mate,” he said smiling, “you’re just having me on.” . . . “No, I’m not,” I insisted, “I’m telling you the truth.” He then seemed to know I was telling him what I really believed. “Look,” I said, “When I was in Cleveland, that’s a big city in the US . . . they were running a contest on the biggest radio station there, to see who was more popular, The Rolling Stones or The Beatles, and it was pretty much of a tie,” I told him, “You guys are really big in America. Like it’s The Beatles and you.” He just stared at me. He seemed to be waiting for the punch line that never came. He could not believe what I was telling him, but then again he couldn’t not believe it. I’ll never forget how surprised I was to find out that day that he really didn’t know how incredibly huge The Rolling Stones were in America. The look on his face when I first told him will stay with me forever.
http://bobbyjameson.blogspot.com/2008_01_02_archive.html?m=1
1,380) Bobby Jameson — “All I Want Is My Baby”
OK, Bobby hated the song. Andrew Loog Oldham wrote that “Keith and I composed a low-life sleeze ‘n’ dumpster sort of homage to George “Shadow” Morton’s Shangri-Las recordings crossed with Bob Crewe’s “Rag Doll” . . . . Keith handled the . . . arrangement[] and Jimmy Page played lead guitar.” (2Stoned)
I think it’s great, as does Bayard, who calls it “splendid” and adds that it “is a mainly midtempo beat ballad with a powerful production, thunderous drums, a brief searing fuzz guitar solo by Richards [actually, Page], Mick Jagger harmonising with Jameson on the choruses as Bobby’s despairing, wailing lead vocal longs for his woman.” (https://rateyourmusic.com/release/single/bobby-jameson/all-i-want-is-my-baby-each-and-every-day-of-the-year.p/)
1,381) Bobby Jameson — “Each and Every Day”
Jameson liked this one, the B-side, better. Andrew Loog Oldham wrote that it was “one of the dimmer of the Glimmer Twins’ songwriting output thus far, a Costa Del Sol, sun ‘n’ sugar wrenched ballad”. (2Stoned)
Here is Mick’s demo with Jimmy Page and other sessionmen:
As to Bobby Jameson, Jason Ankeny tells us:
West Coast folk-rocker Bobby Jameson is best known — or, perhaps, not known at all — for Songs of Protest and Anti-Protest [see #219] the sought-after cult LP he recorded under the alias Chris Lucey. . . . Jameson cut his debut single, “I Wanna Love You,” for the Talamo label in early 1964. The record was a regional hit, and even earned him an appearance on American Bandstand. . . . [T]he follow-ups . . . went nowhere . . . . After a 1965 one-off for the Brit imprint, “I Wanna Know,” Jameson returned to Los Angeles, where he befriended producer Marshall Lieb. . . . [who] was in the midst of helming the debut Surrey Records release by folkie Chris Ducey, but with the album covers already printed and the disc ready to ship, contractual snafus forced the project into limbo. Lieb coerced Jameson into writing and recording a new batch of tunes based on Ducey’s existing song titles, and after some creative tinkering with the cover art, [the album] — now credited to Chris Lucey and, for reasons unknown, featuring a photo of Rolling Stone Brian Jones — finally hit retail. Promoted via what was then the most expensive and lavish Billboard advertising supplement ever printed, the album — a deeply idiosyncratic psych-folk opus . . . proved a commercial flop . . . . Jameson did not resurface until mid-1966, releasing “Gotta Find My Roogalator” — arranged by Frank Zappa . . . . He then signed to Verve, where the Our Productions team of Curt Boettcher, Jim Bell, and Steve Clark helmed his 1967 LP Color Him In. That same year, Jameson also appeared in the infamous American International Pictures documentary Mondo Hollywood . . . . A 1969 album for GRT, Working!, proved Jameson’s swan song. During the ’70s, his frustrations with the music industry manifested themselves in substance abuse and two suicide attempts. . . . After he left the music business in 1985, he lived so quietly with his mother in San Luis Obispo County, California that many thought he was dead. He didn’t resurface until 2003, when he learned that Songs of Protest and Anti-Protest had been reissued unbeknownst to him . . . .
https://www.allmusic.com/artist/bobby-jameson-mn0001425046#biography
If you’d like to read Jameson’s riveting recounting of his life, and his overwhelming bitterness, see:
https://bobbyjameson.blogspot.com/?m=1, https://lifeandtimesofbobbyjameson.blogspot.com/
He also left this disturbing video monologue:
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