July 31, 2011

Tracing Benny Spellman's Fortunes, Pt. 1

I really expected bigger things from Benny. He was by far the most popular rhythm and blues artist in New Orleans. He always was working even when nobody else could find a job. And he had those teenagers mesmerized, they just loved him. - Joe Banashak to Jeff Hannusch in I Hear You Knockin’.

Benny Spellman, who would have turned 80 this December, passed away in early June in his hometown of Pensacola, FL. A singer with a pleasing, recognizable sound, whose career in music came about rather by happenstance, he arrived in New Orleans just as the era of the independent local record labels began, and became one of the many new artists who participated in the busy performing and recording scene there during the early to mid 1960s, though, for the most part, he remained on the periphery.

In this post and one to follow, I’ll present some of his lesser-known recordings, which is what nearly all of them were, really, and ruminate on why his talent seems to have been under-utilized over the course of the near decade that he was active.

If you are not all that familiar with Mr. Spellman and want some overview, I recommend a couple of decent recent sketches of his life and career, one by Jeff Hannusch in
Offbeat, and the other by my friend, Red Kelly, at the B-Side.

Possessing a mellow, smokey baritone, limited in range but rich with character, Benny would have made a promising soul artist; but that was generally not the kind of records he got a chance to make. He worked primarily with legendary producer and A&R man Allen Toussaint, who wrote much of his material and preferred to cast him more in the role of a pop singer. Of course, at the time, Toussaint was largely focused on releasing quick pay-off R&B/pop songs and had a genuine gift for making them happen, generating a number of national hits, with eager singers lined up to cut more.

Benny didn’t make it to New Orleans until he was in his late 20s, after a hitch in the service. Earlier, he had attended Southern University in Baton Rouge on a football scholarship and got into singing there, including several talent contest wins, but nothing much else came of it at the time. As fate would have it, though, in 1959 he chanced to come to the aid of Huey Smith and the Clowns, who were stranded in Pensacola due to a wrecked vehicle. After giving them a lift back to New Orleans, Benny decided to hang around town for a while. At the famed
Dew Drop Inn, he reconnected with guitarist and bandleader Edgar Blanchard, who he had known in Baton Rouge, and was invited up to sing with the band. That opportunity caused such a positive stir in the club that owner Frank Painia hired Benny to sing there regularly, breaking him into the local scene in a hurry, where, over the years, he would earn his reputation as a charismatic on-stage performer.

His first solo recording session also took place in 1959, after he auditioned for the brand new Minit label, started by Joe Banashak and influential disc jockey Larry McKinley. He joined a roster of young talent such as Ernie K-Doe, Aaron Neville, and Jessie Hill (with more soon to follow) under the direction of Toussaint, who was only 21 at the time.

Being a team player, Benny did background singing in the studio whenever needed, but soon got his first feature shot singing his own compositions,
“Life Is Too Short” b/w “Ammerette”, which comprised Minit’s fifth release (#606). The top side was a down tempo, minor key meditation that didn’t light any fires but demonstrated that he could create a mood. The flip was the real stand-out, seemingly inspired by the Little Walter hit, “My Babe”, with a burning baritone sax solo. But the record didn't get much radio play or sales action. Early in 1960, Benny was tapped for another single; but this time both sides were penned by Toussaint and his writing partner, Allen Orange, who was also a Minit artist.

“I Didn’t Know” (Toussaint - Orange)
Benny Spellman, Minit 613, 1960
Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

With strings, no less! Despite that production flourish, the song was a pretty straight 1950s style pop number flawlessly handled by Benny in his smooth mode of delivery. While it did moderately well locally, other artists on Minit were starting to score national hits and get more attention from Toussaint. Thus, Benny didn’t get back onto the production schedule for quite some time, at least as a featured artist.

Later in 1960, he was in the studio when Toussaint was working up a new tune with K-Doe called
“Mother-In-Law”. Not satisfied with the voicing of the main hook, which was the title of the song, Toussaint put Benny on mike and had him sing ‘mother-in-law” in his lower register. That did the trick, making it stand out from the start of the song on through and providing contrast to the tenors of K-Doe and second backing vocalist, Willie Harper. The gimmick also put the song into the winning novelty style of the Coasters or the Clowns; helping hook a big hit. After it was released early in 1961, “Mother-In-Law” soon rose to #1 on both the R&B and pop charts and eventually was awarded a gold record.

With that impressive achievement, K-Doe’s star shone brightly for a time, leaving Benny on the sidelines wanting both more credit for his contribution and another release of his own; but that would be almost another year in coming on Minit.

In December of 1960, shortly before “Mother-In-Law” came out, Benny cut a promising new tune for Toussaint, “Anywhere You Go”; but it never appeared on a single. Over 20years went by before it was finally included on a limited issue Bandy retrospective LP simply entitled Benny Spellman (#70018), followed by compilations on Charly and Collectables.

"Anywhere You Go" (writer unknown)
Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

The most upbeat, danceable track he had recorded up to that point, with an early example of what would become known as the popeye beat, “Anywhere You Go” had its charms as a purely pop endeavor; but, despite Benny’s winning delivery, the song may have been passed over because of its weak lyrics (though they seem Shakespearean in comparison to something like Jessie Hill’s “Ooh Poo Pah Doo”). I have found no writing credit for the song on my Collecatbles compilation LP, Fortune Teller, which has the best (but not perfect) recording details, in BMI, or the US Copyright Office database; which leads me to think that it was a Spellman original that never got registered.

Remarkably, there would be 30 singles issued on Minit between Benny's second and third records, making him best known for his back-up singing to that point, a situation that was not improved by a side project that bore his name and slipped out on an unrelated label in the meantime.

Admittedly, Benny had hard feelings about helping to make “Mother-In-Law” a hit, then not being rewarded with at least a chance to cash in with a single of his own. So, Allen Orange, who was soon to leave the Minit fold, brought him to Johnny Vincent’s Ace label in 1961, recording tracks with Mac Rebennack producing (and playing guitar) that resulted in a one-off 45,
“Roll On, Big Wheel” b/w “That’s All I Ask Of You” (#630). Though Vincent billed him as Benny “Mother-In-Law” Spellman so no one would miss the connection, the record proved neither successful, nor quite honest, as Roland Stone actually sang the majority of the A-side on the master take (written by Orange and Earl King) with Benny just doing the “roll on” of each chorus. But Benny, who was still under contract to Minit at the time, did all the singing on the other side, which was a pleasant enough ballad, and one other cut that was not released, the Latin-esque, mid-tempo “Everybody Needs Somebody” which was pretty lightweight and featured a flute as lead instrument. [Versions of these tunes can be found on the WestSide CD collection Soul Stirrings, and probably on at least a few online download sites.]

That little side trip obviously did not put Benny in good graces at Minit and is likely why it wasn’t until February, 1962 that he got the green light to cut what would be his biggest single, “Lipstick Traces”/“Fortune Teller”, on which Toussaint outdid himself, writing and producing a sophisticated soul-pop masterpiece on top, plus a clever, highly rhythmic novelty gem for the other side - both of which are now considered classics.

“Lipstick Traces (On A Cigarette)” (Naomi Neville)
Benny Spellman, Minit 644, 1962
Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio
"Fortune Teller" (Naomi Neville)
Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

These sides should be abundantly familiar to most of you. If not, they soon will be, as they reward repeated plays. "Lipstick Traces" has a more sophisticated structure than most of the records of the period, yet is so seamlessly well-written, arranged and performed that it flows naturally from start to finish, never drawing attention to its superiority. Toussaint touches worth noting include the instrumental solo by a trombone section (you didn't hear that every day back then) in keeping with the sound of Benny's voice, and the nicely done hook back to “Mother-In-Law”of Benny singing the refrain “don’t leave me no more” in the same lower register, which also repeated at the end of the song with Willie Harper echoing the line as on the K-Doe tune.

As with a number of the Toussaint-generated hits of this period, the song entered both the pop and R&B charts; and by late spring it had climbed to #80 and #28 respectively - not a mega-hit, but certainly a respectable showing. Many stations played “Fortune Teller”, too, turning the 45 into a double-duty seller. Still, despite that significant success, Benny was not favored with an appreciable improvement in his status at Minit, and would have no more hits.

The direct follow-up to “Lipstick Traces” had Benny taking on Toussaint's musical rehash of the hit with far inferior lyrics, “Every Now And Then” (#652), a title that inadvertently but accurately described Benny’s recording schedule. Unable to chart, it was certainly a misstep by Toussaint, who failed to effectively exploit the singer’s momentary prominence, going instead with, at best, uninspired material.

Benny’s next single didn’t appear until the following year; and, although it got back to form with two cool, danceable contenders, “Stickin’ Whicha Baby” b/w “You Got To Get It”, the timing of its release wasn’t favorable. No only had he been too long gone from the public’s minute musical attention span; but Minit was embroiled in continuing problems with its national distributor, Imperial Records, and had by then taken a backseat to Banashak’s other label venture with Irving Smith (and silent partner McKinley), Instant, which also relied totally upon Toussaint’s production skills.

“Stickin’ Whicha Baby” (N. Neville)
Benny Spellman, Minit 659, 1963
Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

Reinforcing the syncopation of the tune’s mid-tempo popeye groove with rhythmic accents from the horns, Toussaint created an effective get-loose mover that gave great musical support to Benny’s supple vocal. It also subtly refers back to “Lipstick Traces” in the lyrics (quoting its hook, “don’t leave me no more”) and use again of trombones. Toussaint’s piano accompaniment quotes “Fortune Teller” in spots, too. With a chorus that actually does stick with you, this number would have made a far better immediate follow-up to Benny’s lone hit 45, were time travel an option. Instead, it came along too late to garner anything more than a little local exposure.

“You Got To Get It” (B. Spellman, J.L. Spellman, N. Nichols)
Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

Another fine popeye groover, this turned out to be a pretty strong flip side, even though it sounds like a lot of other songs emanating from New Orleans at the time. Co-written by Benny, whose enthusiastic vocal really makes the song stand out, it has some clever lyrical turns and another winning arrangement by Toussaint. I consider both sides of this 45 to be among the singer's best.

Benny’s next release. “Talk About Love”/“Ammerette” (#664), would be his last for Minit, as a hurricane of changes was brewing for Banashak’s inter-related enterprises. It's a hard 45 to find, since it had a poor prognosis to begin with. My transfer of the A-side comes from the Fortune Teller LP.

“Talk About Love" (Naomi Neville)
Benny Spellman, Minit 664, 1963
Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

Despite its spare instrumentation, this Toussaint composition is a great little upbeat mover with a bit of gospel feel to it. Basically, it has just piano, minimal bass (acoustic?) and drums, with a sax coming in briefly behind the vocal and for a short solo. What sells this arrangement for me are the backing vocals, with the males simply singling “love” four to the measure, until Toussaint kicked it up a notch, adding the females on the off beats behind the second and third verses, the solo, and the ride out. Benny’s vocal, though pleasant enough, seems too understated overall for the song’s testifying mood. Even though he intensified and upped his volume and register on a few lines, it was not enough to transform the song’s catchy bounce into an outright rave-up.

Interestingly, Benny’s own “Ammerette” from the back of his very first 45 appeared again on the B-side of 664, indicating that there was nothing else left on the shelf to use. “Talk About Love” had been recorded back in May of 1962; and its delayed release meant that it had virtually no chance of success, as Minit was on the verge of being swallowed up and losing its identity as a New Orleans label.

Imperial Records had not been an enthusiastic promoter of the Minit catalog for quite a while, which had proven to be a read drag for Banashak and company in several senses of the term, limiting the number of markets the records got into, and, thus, possible sales. For that reason, he started Instant (initially called Valiant) in 1961 and was distributing those releases though his own company, A-1 Distributors, which he had run since 1957. By 1963, Banashak learned that Lew Chudd, owner of Imperial, was selling out to the much larger Liberty Records in California, leaving their tenuous distribution agreement completely in limbo.

Then came the even worse news that Toussaint had been drafted and would soon be reporting for duty in Texas. leaving Banashak’s labels, including ALON, which he had set up for Toussaint to run, without a producer, arranger and chief songwriter. On top of that, due to cutthroat competition, A-1 suddenly lost many of the biggest labels it handled, quickly forcing the company into bankruptcy. Just like that, the triple whammy.

Cash-strapped, Banashak sold Minit to Liberty, which chose not to keep any of the label’s artists except Irma Thomas, who wound up recording for their reconstituted Imperial imprint. Meanwhile, Banashak was left to tread water with Instant and ALON, almost giving up the music business at one point, but hanging on. Fortunately, Toussaint had left some tracks behind that allowed Banashak to release records by a few artists such as Willie Harper, Eldridge Holmes, and Skip Easterling on ALON. Also, Toussaint started recording instrumentals for the label with a band he got together in Texas, the Stokes.

Meanwhile, having been cut loose from the semi-submerged ship, Benny soon got involved with a new local label, Watch Records, though he would return to Banashak and Toussaint; but, we’ll get to that next time when we cover some sides he did during the last half of his music career.

Minit’s track record with Benny was haphazard at best. While not a world class singer, he was a popular live performer whose sound and ability were certainly equal to, if not beyond, some of the artists on Minit and Instant who had more opportunity to record - Chris Kenner for one. Some careful consideration might have led Toussaint to develop more soulful material for Benny along the lines of what Irma Thomas was getting; though, admittedly, none of her records caught on nationally at the time. But, although Banashak expected better outcomes for his work, Benny, Mr. Go with the Flow, seems to have gotten lost in the shuffle.

I have to remind myself that artist development was not commonly practiced back in the days of seat of the pants, small-staffed, independent record labels scrambling week to week and month to month to find enough of a hit to pay the bills. As Banashak told Hannusch, his initial decision to get into record making was inspired by a friend’s simplistic notion that all it took was to “throw $750.00 [production/pressing costs] up against the wall and hope [you] come up with a hit.” That kind of thinking makes your artists rather disposable commodities in an inherently uncertain and random process - gambling, as always, being the best analogue for the record business.

In that light, Benny was fortunate to have recorded what little he did for Minit and had a bit of success to show for it. Nobody who knows what they are talking about has ever claimed that the music business is the place to get a fair shake.

July 10, 2011

Suiting Summer To A Tee: Willie & the Gaturs

The always groovin' music of Willie Tee (Wilson Turbinton) goes particularly well with summer; and hearing it any time of the year summons up that seasonal vibe for me, especially the songs by his early 1970s funk band, the Gaturs, which just seem imbued with heat, humidity, and a feel-good, hang-loose spirit.

So, with the advent of the summer season, I'm pulling out a few rarities by Willie solo and with the Gaturs. I've done a number of background posts on him over the years; and you can find links to them at the end of this post, if you're new to the man and his music or just want some more details on his career, which ended all too soon when he
passed suddenly back in 2007.

"I Found Out (You Are My Cousin)" (W. Turbinton)
Willie Tee, AFO 311, 1962

Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

This track comes from only the second single of Tee’s career. His first,
“Always Accused” b/w “All For One”, also came out on AFO (#307) that year. Still a teenager (18) and just learning the ropes, Tee surprisingly started out recording his own compositions. His songwriting was already well-developed; and he was being mentored by AFO founder, Harold Battiste, who had taught him in a junior high music class a few years earlier. Realizing how much promise Tee held as a vocalist, musician, and composer, Battiste was glad to give the young man a shot on the label, which had been launched the previous year as a partnership of idealistic local African-American studio musicians wanting their fair share of music business profits.

Arranged superbly by Battiste and performed by some of the best of the city’s players, “I Found Out” succeeds musically in every way with its infectious popeye beat (a lightly syncopated, highly danceable shuffle frequently used on New Orleans records of the early to mid 1960s), bright, well-placed horn lines, an organ substituted for the standard piano, and Tee’s exceptionally expressive, supple singing. But when it comes to the lyrics, there is an incongruity between the sunny, dance-inducing, soul-pop feel and the subject matter that surely subverted its commercial potential. Catchy as the song is, I can imagine people suddenly going “say what?” or just laughing (my response), once the words sink in.

While much the rest of the world might be more accepting, even encouraging of the circumstances in question, here in the US, unless you’re part of a polygamist cult or living in, let’s say, a particularly close-knit rural community, it’s an awkward buzz-kill to meet the parents of your new girlfriend and find out they’re your aunt and uncle - especially if, as the song implies, you and she are already well beyond merely kissin’ kin. Ouch. Interestingly, the lyrics never resolve what came of the relationship; but we can assume it had as much chance of success as this song did of getting airplay and selling.

A shame, really. Had Tee just chosen more innocuous subject matter, no doubt the record’s prospects would have increased exponentially. I wonder why he wasn’t taken aside and told something like, “You know, Willie, Jerry Lee Lewis married HIS cousin, but even he didn’t record a song about it! How about a re-write?”

On top of that little obstacle, there was another factor working against all of the AFO projects at this point. Having lost their national distribution deal with Sue Records when that label’s owner ran off with their only hit-maker, Barbara George, Battiste and his partners were left with just the prospect of local exposure for releases by the rest of their roster. Underfunded and sharing mostly red ink by then, not able to generate even hometown hits in the pay to play days of radio, they closed down the New Orleans operation in 1963, with Battiste and some others relocating to the West Coast.

Before leaving, Battiste worked a deal for Irving Smith’s new local label,
Cinderella, to release two worthy tracks left over from earlier AFO sessions, which were bundled into the imprint's second 45.

“Foolish Girl” (Ken Kerr)
Willie Tee, Cinderella 1202, 1963
Hear it on
HOTG Internet Radio

This rarely heard, addictive piece of pop ear candy with much more conventional lyrics was one of Tee’s best performances for Battiste and company, impeccably backed by the AFO Executives. There’s really not a lot to the song; but the jazzy, uptown arrangement with its insinuating, bossa nova inspired drum groove by John Boudreaux perfectly made up for that and gave the still teenaged Tee a perfect excuse to again display his deceptively smooth vocal power on the affecting melody line.

It’s hard to understand why he never made it to the music business big leagues by virtue of his singing, let alone his other gifts; but opportunity, timing and luck never quite lined up for him. In the case of this single, Smith, who ran a successful record store on St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans, did not prove to be an adept record promoter, as none of the seven releases on Cinderella went very far at all, with sales probably limited to his shop.

In addition, this 45 is unusual in that it was split between two artists. The flip side features Harold Battiste doing a jazz sax instrumental with the A.F.O. Executives, a well-rendered, big band arrangement of “These Are The Things I Love”. Maybe we’ll get to that when I take a look at the career of Mr. Battiste, who later did go fairly far into the upper echelons of the industry as a producer, arranger and music director while out in Los Angeles. That’s another project too long on the HOTG back burner. Of course, you can avoid the middle blogger here and the wait by simply reading Battiste's excellent memoir,
Unfinished Blues.

A few years father on, Tee came close to getting a boost up to the next level when recording for Nola Records, a new label owned by his cousin (this hook-up was all about business!) Ulis Gaines, Wardell Quezergue, and Clinton Scott. They had a deal giving Atlantic Records the option to take any release on the label that they thought had promise; and that was exercised on Tee’s first Nola single, “Teasin’ You” /
“Walking Up A One Way Street”, two deft, easy-going Earl King soul-pop songs. “Teasin’ You” broke big on Atlantic, nearly making the R&B Top Ten; but, although they issued two more top-shelf singles on him, neither did well enough to keep Atlantic interested. Not surprisingly, though, those singles have become favorites of the Beach Music scene with its perpetual summertime slant.

Tee spent the next few years back in relative obscurity, making records for the local market again on Nola and its subsidiaries, Hot Line and Bonatemp, until the company went under. He also teamed with Gaines to start a new label, Gatur, which had to shut down almost as soon as it opened due to the crash of the city’s multi-label distributorship, Dover Records, owned by Cosimo Matassa, which caused much collateral damage to the local music business. You can find his Atlantic and Nola-related sides, plus a few from Gatur, on the Night Train compilation
Teasin' You.

Late in the decade, Tee got another shot at national recognition on a deal with Capitol that resulted in an ill-conceived, quickly scuttled white-bread pop album,
I'm Only A Man, (over)produced by David Alexrod, from which two largely ignored singles were also released. I’ve previously discussed* the utter disconnect of this project (which is still highly prized by collectors) with the rest of Tee’s career. So, suffice it to say here that Tee quickly moved on.

By around 1970, he and Gaines decided to reactivate Gatur, giving Tee a chance to jump into the flourishing funk scene in the city with his new band, simply dubbed the Gaturs. Of the ten soul-funk singles on the label credited either to the Gaturs (4) or Tee (6), none did especially well commercially, even though Atco picked up the first of them, “Cold Bear” / “Booger Man” (#508), for national release in 1972. Yet today, a number of the Gatur tracks are considered classics and coveted by collectors worldwide.

Naturally, because they're highly sought after, these records are hard to find (or afford), but Tuff City/Funky Delicacies did compile a lot of them on the
Wasted CD way back in 1994 allowing far more people to hear them than ever did at the time they were made. I’m featuring a couple of sides today that I haven’t gotten to before from the woefully limited Gatur section of my vinyl archives.

“Wasted” (W. Turbinton)
The Gaturs, Gatur 510, ca 1972

Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

As I’ve pointed out in earlier posts, most of Tee’s instrumental compositions and productions on Gatur were more about atmospherics and pure groove than structural elements, and “Wasted” is certainly strong evidence of that. It’s like the musical treatment for some movie scene, meant more to suggest a mood than go much of anywhere musically. While still cool, it has much less impact than the impressive, addictive top side,
“Gator Bait” (misspelled on the CD). “Wasted” was probably a more or less spontaneously composed track on which Tee’s electric piano (Wurlitzer), his brief flurry of soloing, and spare, slightly abstract chord voicings reveal the jazz sensibilities never far from the surface in much his work.

Bassist Erving Charles seems a bit lost on this track; but what makes the groove immediately engage and carry us through the tune is the intense percussion, reinforced by Louis Clark’s wah-wah guitar attack. The use of congas (probably ‘Uganda’ Roberts) and a hi-hat (Larry Pana) in lieu of a full set of drums summons up a primal, ancestral kind of rhythmic drive that may well have been inspired by the concurrent collaboration Tee and his band were having with the Wild Magnolia Mardi Gras Indians during this period.

For more details on the flip side of this record, plus Tee’s work with the Indians, see my "Of Gaturs and Indians"** post from 2007.

“Yeah, You’re Right You Know You’re Right” (M. M. Turbinton)
The Gaturs, Gatur 555, ca 1972

Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

Both sides of this 45 stand apart from the other instrumentals Tee wrote and produced for the Gaturs due to more substantial structures and his use of a horn section on the arrangements. “Yeah You’re Right” is similar in approach to some of the vocal tunes he did under his own name for the label, such as
“I’m Having So Much Fun” on #557, most all of which were more involved productions, some even having strings.

On this laid back but engaging groove, the congas and a closed hi-hat carry the beat for the acoustic piano and bass in the intro, until Pana kicks in on his drum kit and the guitar picks the central riff of the tune, followed by the horns coming in on the chorus. Funky Delicacies dates recording of the Gatur material at around 1970; and, if so, the tracks were probably cut at Jazz City in New Orleans, Cosimo’s former studio being run by Skip Godwin, and then released over the next couple of years.

“A Hunk Of Funk” (M. M. Turbinton)

Hear it on HOTG Internet Radio

Belying it’s title, the far more high energy flip rocks a series of loosely strung together riffs with more high energy conga action atop minimal drums, plus solos on overdriven lead guitar and organ. Meanwhile, Tee’s voice soulfully moans away in the background. It’s kind of strange and doesn’t go much of anywhere, but still makes for an enjoyable rave up counterpoint to “Yeah You’re Right”.

As for the writer’s credit to M. M. Turbinton [possibly his wife, Marilyn] on both songs, I haven’t a clue, since the name is not shown in the BMI database; so it was not one of Tee’s registered monikers; and, oddly, neither of these song titles shows up there either.

But rather than geeking out on that tangent for a fortnight, I’m moving on to explore some other topics and will try to be back soon with more from the overflowing boxes and teetering piles of grooved black plastic discs here at HOTG central. Hope these tracks help to augment your revelries and enhance your reveries this summer and beyond. Yeah, you’re right.

A Series of Firsts for Willie Tee AFO, Atlantic, & Nola sides
More Than A One Hit Wonder "I Want Somebody", Atlantic 2302
Did Saying Yes Lead To Mercy? "You Better Say Yes", Atlantic 2302
*Willie's Reach Capitol, Gatur, and UA tracks
A Cracked Bell and A Cold Bear The ATCO single &
Anticipation LP
Gatur Grooves "Get Up" from the Wasted CD
Indians Comin’ "Handa Wanda", Wild Magnolias, Crescent City 25
Carnival Funk Convergence "Ho Na Nae" from
The Wild Magnolias
Hey La Hey "Fire Water", Wild Magnolias, Treehouse 801 B
Of Gaturs and Indians "Gator Bait", Gatur 510 plus "New Kinda Groove" from
They Call Us Wild, Wild Mangolias