Showing posts with label Annette Funicello. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Annette Funicello. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

PAUL: TALL PAUL

Another rabbit warren of antique archaicism to fall down today, as we grasp at the few straws offered by Tin Pan Alley to the Pauls of this world. Johns, and Johnnys are, of course, two a penny, and even Williams get more action, if more frequently foreshortened to Billy. So, then, pop pickers, who remembers “Tall Paul”? Don’t worry, I don’t either, but it was 1959 when Annette Funicello took it to the Billboard chart, where it reached number 7. 

There’s a nice tale about the song, suggesting it was written for Paul Anka, not least as he and Funicello were briefly an item. Anka responded vigorously to deny this, citing he was not remotely tall, an inescapable truth. Funicello was an erstwhile Mousketeer for the Mickey Mouse club, long before, I should add, any more recent incumbent, and the song was written by the Sherman brothers, Robert B. and Richard M., who specialised in writing for Disney, and penned most of the soundtrack for Mary Poppins. The song? Well. It ain’t up to much, typical fare for the times, but it did provoke a response. 

The tradition of a song producing a response, unrelated, from another group or singer is long and celebrated. Possibly the best example would be the songs traded between the star crossed squeezes, Neil Sedaka and Carole King. “Oh, Carol” was a massive hit for the former, and “Oh Neil”, her reply, was not, perhaps explained by her, in the interim, having married Gerry Goffin. More recently there was the somewhat more nuanced bromance between Morrissey and Billy MacKenzie. The Smiths brought out “William, It Was Really Nothing”, the seemingly somewhat a little infatuated Associates singer, with the explosive H bomb of a voice, riposted with “Stephen, You’re Really Something.” Probably more a little bit of celebrity one-upmanship, it makes for a great tale, if largely and likely apocryphal. 



Anyway, “Tall Paul” too garnished a reply, from a songwriter, Ray Hildebrand, who elected to give it a duet status, enrolling the niece of his landlord, Jill Jackson, to help him sing it. Picked up by showbiz mogul and producer, Major Bill Smith, who, despite outranking Colonel Tom Parker, was in an entirely different league. He gave Ray and Jill the name Paul and Paula, and a hit was born, hitting the number 1 spot in 1962. I was confident that was that, but it appears they went on to have a career of sorts, with further hits and a few albums, ahead of Hildebrand quitting the glitz, returning to college and embracing the Church. A later “Dear Paula” did not chart. 

Coming soon, in a future theme entitled Bernard, will be more enticing tales of derring do, but, until then, grab ‘em while you can…… 

Tall Paul 

Hey Paula





Friday, August 23, 2013

Vacation: Surfer's Holiday





When 10,000 biceps go around 5,000 bikinis...you know what's gonna happen! A Muscle Beach party!

Brian Wilson and his songwriting partners Roger Christian and Gary Usher contributed to the 1964 film soundtrack, writing "Surfer's Holiday" among others. "Surfer's Holiday" sounds like something The Beach Boys might have recorded for Shut Down, Volume 2. The recently passed ex Mouseketeer, Annette Funicello ,  may have had a thin voice but as Tom Hibbert wrote in his book, The Perfect Collection, "when it came to a corny beach party anthem the beauty's tones were unbeatable".




Annette's Muscle Beach Party remains THE classic summer soundtrack for the beach and dune buggy set.


Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Mouseketeers: Beach Party


Annette Funicello: Beach Party Tonight

[purchase]

Most folks over the age of forty know that popular girl Annette parlayed her stint on the Mickey Mouse Club into a career in film. Fewer may realize just how many of Annette's own songs from those films, plus others designed to capture the same beach party playfulness, went on to hit the charts.

This 1963 song is typical: a fast-paced romp designed to prioritize party atmosphere and veiled bathing suit dreams over any particular vocal loveliness, its jangly surf guitar and tom toms punctuated by a Benny Hill sax and an angelic open-mouthed crowd chorus. It goes out tonight to all our dreams of summer, and to a generation of pubescent baby boomers still lusting after the Annettes of their youth.