Mid-60s song parodist returns to his Jewish roots

After gaining fame with his 1962 debut My Son the Folk Singer and launching a #2 hit with 1963’s “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh!,” Allan Sherman embarked on a series of high-profile projects and guest spots. By the time he recorded this 1964 release, the mood of the nation had changed radically with the assassination of JFK; the light-hearted parody that felt so effervescent in 1963 seemed a shade more superfluous in the shadows of 1964. In an effort to reconnect with his original audience, Sherman reintroduced the Jewish-rooted humor he’d largely abandoned over the course of several albums. His clever writing and ear for a tune were still sharp, but the record buying public wasn’t as hungry for silliness as they’d been two years earlier. Stories of gluttony, in-laws, modern pharmaceuticals, subway conductors and Jewish Lotharios are still funny, but what was once party entertainment – Sherman having honed his act in impromptu performances at friends’ homes – was now performance laden with expectations. There are many nice moments here, including the memorably anti-consumerist “The Twelve Gifts of Christmas,” but five albums along, the change in national zeitgeist seems to have dimmed Sherman’s fire. Collectors’ Choice straight-up reissue includes new liner notes by Dr. Demento. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Early ‘60s song parodist hits his commercial peak

Sherman’s third album, released in 1963 and recorded less than a year after his debut, was his most solid collection of songs, and spun off his most famous composition, “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh!” As on the previous albums there’s a live studio audience, but with his humor now a known quanity, these feel more like staged performances than impromptu party appearances. The applause and laughs are genuine and well deserved, but they’re polite rather than the uncontrolled punctuations of his first album. Traces of his earlier Jewish humor can still be heard here, but the broader reach of My Son, the Celebrity is the real pay off. The opening treatise on the French crown, “You Went the Wrong Way, Old King Louie,” is both a funny history lesson and a rocking good time. Sherman’s musical director, Lou Busch, continued to write serious arrangements to contrast with Sherman’s hilarious lyrics, but he also managed to mock musical icons of the time, slipping Henry Mancini’s “Peter Gunn Theme” into the opener and revving up a parody of “Rag Mop” for Sherman’s “Rat Fink.” Sherman unleashes his imagination on the complexities of early computerization, modern medicine, international cuisine, and suburban vexations. The album’s crown jewel, “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh! (A Letter from Camp),” is like a musical version of a Bob Newhart phone call. Even here, among the numerous hazards that befall the summer campers, Sherman manages to work in an intellectual reference to James Joyce’s “Ulysses.” The single won a Grammy and peaked at #2 on the Billboard chart, and seemed to be everywhere in the summer of 1963. Collectors’ Choice straight-up reissue includes new liner notes by Dr. Demento. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Second-helping of early ‘60s musical parody

Recorded only a few months after his debut album brought a surprising burst of public acclaim, writer/producer Allan Sherman recorded his second album of song parodies. As on his first, Jewish-American characters and life are primary subjects of his humor, but he also branches out in multicultural parody on the album’s cleverly written and popular “Mexican Hat Dance,” and winningly recasts the Dixieland “Won’t You Come Home Bill Bailey?” as the intellectual “Won’t You Come Home, Disraeli?” As with his debut, this was recorded in front of a small, hand-picked studio audience in an intimate party-like setting. Sherman and his conductor Lou Busch play the live audience as much as the songs, leaving space for the uproarious laughs and hanging onto punch lines for maximum effect. Also similarly to the debut, Sherman’s everyman voice is backed by Busch’s serious arrangements, giving the humor of the lyrics an extra measure of silliness. This second helping isn’t as deeply clever as the debut (which, to be fair, was refined over several years in impromptu performances that Sherman made at parties), but it shows that Sherman wasn’t a one-hit wonder and set the stage for his third and greatest album later the same year. Collectors’ Choice straight-up reissue includes new liner notes by Dr. Demento. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]

Brilliantly silly song parodies from 1962

Allan Sherman’s gift for parody songs dates back well before his commercial success in the 1960s. As a struggling comedy writer in New York he sang parody songs at parties, and as the successful creator and producer of the television game show I’ve Got a Secret, his parodies became well-known within the industry. He even recorded a single (“Jake’s Song” b/w “A Satchel and a Seck”) – a flop – in 1951. He tried again in the mid-50s with a Jewish-humor translation of My Fair Lady (to be called “Fairfax Lady,” after the Jewish neighborhood of Los Angeles), but failing to gain the original composer’s permission, the project was shelved. It wasn’t until several years later, after a move to Los Angeles, that his continuing party appearances garnered famous fans who led him to a composer, Lou Busch, and a recording contract with Warner brothers.

Sherman recorded this debut album in 1962 in front of a hand-picked studio audience, and with their laughter supplying the rocket fuel, the album, and it’s hit single “Sarah Jackman” (to the tune of Frerer Jacques), crossed over from the borscht belt audience to nationwide acclaim. The keys to Sherman’s success are many. His lyrics are both clever and catchy, eliciting spontaneous mid-song applause and sticking memorable lines (“He was trampling through the warehouse / where the drapes of Roth are stored” sung to the tune of the “Battle Hymn of the Republic”) in the listener’s ears. His comedic timing, augmented by terrific musical accompaniment, is perfectly tuned to his intimate studio gatherings, and the seriousness of Busch’s arrangements neatly emphasizes the silliness of Sherman’s words. His humor is decidedly Jewish, even old-timey, but exalting an old-time tailor and using an accent to rhyme “fourth” with “cloth” is funny whether or not you’re of the tribe.

This initial batch of songs threads archetypical Jewish characters – overbearing families, the merchant class, dealmakers, Floridians, gossipers, kvetchers and bargain hunters – into then-familiar melodies. He sings the praises of seltzer water, and in the closing “Shticks and Stones” traipses through six minutes of brilliantly segued slices of stereotypical Jewish life, including business problems, hospital bills, kosher foods and aging. Incredibly, rooting his songs so deeply in the Jewish-American experience somehow produces humor that’s universally funny and nearly fifty years later, Sherman’s humor and craft stand on their own, entertaining to even those who don’t know the original tunes. Collectors’ Choice straight-up reissue includes new liner notes by Dr. Demento. [©2010 hyperbolium dot com]