MOVE IT ON THE BACKBEAT!
JOSIE + THE PUSSY CATS IN LONDON
1956-57
PROLOGUE
You’re listening to “Easy Beat”, and I’m your host, Keith Fordyce. We at BBC Radio pride ourselves on presenting the very best of light musical entertainment, and haven’t we got a treat for you today: The final appearance of Pop sensations Josie + The Pussy Cats with their lead singer Greg James. They’re all with us live in Studio A to perform a medley of hits, and then Greg will preview his new solo single on Decca Records. Tender, melodic and beautiful, this is the sort of music that you long for. It's guaranteed to sweep you away from ghastly shock and horror! I daresay there’s been far too much of that lately in the news.
Indeed. It was the worst string of serial killings in Great Britain since Jack The Ripper! Six of London’s wealthiest citizens, all men, middle aged to elderly, were found butchered in their beds. Hatchets buried in their brains, blood and gore everywhere! Police could fathom no motive: Revenge was ruled out in every case, and no money or valuables were ever taken. It seemed to be no more than sheer, savage brutality! The common denominator was that some of the men were seen in the company of a beautiful woman just prior to their killings.
Twice, a woman was spotted leaving the scene shortly before the corpses were discovered. The public imagination latched onto a female fiend! She was likened to Lizzie Borden, the notorious nineteenth century axe-murderess. Some held that London Lizzie was a ravishing redhead; others, that she was a bewitching brunette. However, one of the witnesses swore that he’d seen a petite platinum blonde! Whatever the case, In the late 1950s and early ‘60s, Lizzie was the talk and terror of England; but against that gruesome backdrop, three beautiful guitarists - one blonde, one Black and one flame-haired - made a huge splash on the British music scene. Let me tell you all about them.
LONDON LIZZIE STRIKES AGAIN!
PART ONE:
WHO’S GOT THE ACTION?
The leader of this group was a most unlikely Pop star. Giuseppa De Carlo was American-born despite her Old World Italian name. New Orleans was where she inhaled her first breath. Zeppa’s birth year was 1930; her mother was Jewish and her father was an Italian Gypsy. They conceived her late in life; Zeppa's brother Gino was fifteen years her senior. The De Carlos were vaudevillians; Gino danced, Coco sang and Alfredo was a skilled Flamenco guitarist. It was a given that the family’s newest member would learn how how to play and sing, and she excelled at it. By the tender age of seven, little Zeppa was playing a miniature guitar onstage for delighted audiences; but at age thirteen, childhood ended most abruptly for the child prodigy!
She got involved with a young man. Collins Gregory was a handsome teenage juggler, born in England but raised in Egypt; he had emigrated from there. However, Collins was actually of Sudanese heritage and very dark-skinned. His interest in Giuseppa alarmed Coco De Carlo, and not just because he was so much older; her Mizrahi parents had deep olive complexions and had suffered discrimination because of it. Alfredo was also hostile to Collins and repeatedly warned him to stay away! Even so, the two grew closer and just before he left the show to return to his home country, they became secret lovers.
Speaking of the relationship in later years, Josie would never allow that she’d been in love. “I certainly don’t think Collins was,” she said, “but we were both filled with those strong yearnings that young people have. Too, I was intensely curious about, well, you know what!” Zeppa and Collins only slept together once, but as soon as Coco found out, she knew that her daughter would conceive. “A mother can sense these things,” she insisted, and she was right: Less than three months later, Giuseppa was visibly pregnant and could no longer appear on stage. Giving birth so soon after puberty was difficult; hours of painful labor nearly claimed the girl’s life!
The Grim Reaper did visit the De Carlo family, but as fate would have it, Giuseppa wasn’t destined to be his victim. Just two years after their grandchild was born, Coco and Alfredo were killed in an auto accident! They died instantly. Zeppa's brother Gino was driving the car; sadly, he succumbed to his injuries a few days later. Devotion to motherly duties saved her from sharing their tragic fate!
“Having a baby did save my life,” Josie believed. “Gregory was colicky, and that morning he wouldn’t stop crying. Papa had planned a family trip to the beach, but I decided to stay home and look after him. Then after the accident, Greg’s needs kept me grounded and rational. Otherwise, I think the shock of it all might have driven me insane!”
There was simply no way she could continue to perform; as it happened, vaudeville was on its last legs anyway. By the end of the year, the show closed and the troupe would disband. Zeppa had a large extended family that supported her with food and funds, but not with a permanent place to stay. The girl was a pariah to them!
It was a different time period, when people held shameful attitudes about so-called miscegenation. “Vesava!” her young Gypsy cousins screamed. They called her “a Black man’s whore!” Older relatives were not as cruel, but with a baby so dark-skinned and kinky-haired, none were willing to take her in. She had to make it on her own! This was in 1945, right at the close of WWII. While America was celebrating, poor Giuseppa De Carlo watched her world fall apart!
She tried to find work as a musician, but both her gender and youth were barriers. “Being part of a family act had protected me from the biases I ran up against when I tried to perform solo,” she later explained. Responsibility for herself and her infant son was a burden nearly too hard to bear, but the brave young woman persevered; she survived on store clerk, farm labor and waitress jobs.
A decade later, an opportunity to play music with a band beckoned her; but it was a “Trad Jazz” band based in England. Josie packed up her little boy and moved to the British Isles in 1955. "Greg knew that his father was British-born, so he asked if Daddy would be there to meet us," she recalled. "I just told him, 'We'll see.'" Nothing could've been more unlikely; but as fate would have it, Josie and Collins did cross paths in London. Talking about it made her wistful: "It was so awkward! He'd gotten married and his wife was there with him. Thank God, Greg wasn't with me! How could I tell him that we had a son together right in front of her? We never met again, and he never did find out."
That uncomfortable encounter presaged more unpleasantness. Jazz Babies, the all-girl band she'd signed on with was a highly unstable unit; it disintegrated soon after she arrived on our shores. Even worse, the manager absconded with everyone’s pay! Mother and son found themselves stranded in a foreign country. "I might've asked Collins for help if I'd known where to find him," she sighed, "just on Greg's behalf! But I hadn't a clue. He said he was just visiting London for a short time." Giuseppa De Carlo ended up in Liverpool, working in a sleazy titty bar called the Fish ‘n’ Chips!
MYRNA MUNRO AND JOSIE AT THE
FISH 'N' CHIPS CLUB.
Earnings were meagre, the blokes were crude and rude, and there was so much cigarette smoke in the air she found it difficult to breathe. The only thing Giuseppa liked about being a stripper was her new stage name. “De Carlo? Sure, that’s sexy enough,” her new boss Clive "Fish" Peel declared, between puffs on a reeking cigar. “Reminds me of that American starlet, Yvonne De Carlo." His wife and business partner Holly "Chips" Peel found found her Christian name much too exotic and expressed her dislike for it in no uncertain terms: "Crikey! It sounds like somebody sneezed, doesn’t it? Can't put her on stage with a stinker like that, luv.”
Fifi? Trixie? Dixie? Babs? None of those names seemed to fit. When Mrs. Chips suggested "Coco", Giuseppa blanched visibly. Perform striptease under her mother's name? Unthinkable! She didn't want to use her childhood nickname Zeppa, either; her brother had given it to her and every time someone called her that, she started to cry.
Then the club's wardrobe mistress, a matronly woman named Myrna Munro whom Giuseppa grew close to, suggested Josephine. “Rather!” Mr. Fish declared. “We’ll call her Josie. A good bit o’ peroxide will do for the lass, too.” She could live with the nickname but not with looking like a Diana Dors clone. Thanks to Myrna’s intervention, she managed to wriggle out of the dye job! Even so, Miss Josie De Carlo became one of the main attractions at The Fish 'n Chips. She was known as the “big-titted bird who always likes to leave summat to the imagination.” But alas, not nearly enough.
Once again, Josie’s son would be her salvation. Twelve-year-old James Gregory De Carlo inherited the family’s proclivity for music skill. From drummers at the strip club, he learned to play percussion while still a tyke; the lad had a natural sense of rhythm that he honed with constant practice. Greg could also sing; much to Josie's delight, as a baby he would vocalize when she sang him lullabies. At this time, Lonnie Donegan was spearheading a Skiffle boom in the British Isles; Greg became a Donegan fan, gravitating toward Trad Jazz and rustic Folk sounds. Then, from records imported from the Caribbean he got a taste of Calpyso music and fell hard for it!
Soon, the lad was using every spare minute to sing and play Calypso songs. He dreamt of doing so on stage; however, Greg was quite the effeminate boy - schoolmates branded him “a flaming poofter” - so he couldn't find anybody willing to play music with him! He resolved to solicit help from anyone who had musical talent, including his mother. “I laughed him off,” she admitted. “Who could take that seriously? I thought he was far too young, and besides that, we weren’t West Indians. How would it look?” But musical talent wasn’t all that Josie passed down to him; the son was just as persistent as the mother was!
By early 1956, the lad had recruited two very talented teenage girls from the neighborhood: Trinidadian immigrant Valerie Santiago and blonde beat girl Melody Rutledge. As it happened, Melly was the niece of Josie’s friend Myrna, the wardrobe lady. Older than Greg by three years or so, she and Val loved Calypso just as much as he did. Valerie grew up with the music, and her singing lent the group an authentic sound. Melody could harmonize, and both of them knew how to get along on the guitar. Wanting to find his mother a better job - he knew how much she loathed working in the strip club - Greg kept after Josie to join their fledgling band. To her ears, they sounded like the amateurs that they were, but she also heard potential: “They were good! I couldn’t ignore the talent.”
FIFTY YEARS FROM NOW!
She made time to coach Valerie and Melody on their guitar-playing; they were amazed at her dexterity, the result of Josie’s extensive Flamenco background. She was no slouch at playing Jazz, either. Later, she began to sing with them, and there was a striking vocal blend to their harmonies; her voice provided a missing element that made them sound absolutely grand! With her high soprano, Melly was “top”. Val, a throaty contralto, was “bottom”. Josie’s mezzo-soprano put her squarely in the middle. Occasionally, young Greg would join in with his boy tenor.
“At that time, Val was the strongest one vocally,” Josie recalled, “but given the right tune, each of us could deliver a decent lead.” She finally gave in to her son’s pleas and agreed to join the band - on condition that she be the band leader! It made sense: She was the senior member, and having appeared in vaudeville she knew a lot about the ins and outs of show business.
Taking a leap of faith, Josie gave notice to Mr. Fish and Mrs. Chips. "Think a lot of yourself, don't you, bitch?" snarled an outraged Holly Peel. "After we made a star out of ye? Well, you shan't come crawling back!" She performed her last striptease routine in late ‘56, resolving to take odd jobs and live on her savings until the band started making money. But even after Josie quit working at The Fish ‘n’ Chips, Myrna Munro stayed in the picture; she was 100% supportive of the band!
She was also indirectly responsible for the group’s name. Myrna was a foster mother to every stray cat in Liverpool, and she’d just adopted a grizzled old tom. “I called him ‘Pussy’ ‘cause I couldn’t think of anything else,” she shrugged, “but me flat mate didn’t like that, so I changed it to ‘Pussy Cat’. At least, that’s what I call him when she’s around!” One day, the four bandmates were taking tea in her kitchen and debating prospective names. Suddenly, that massive feline leapt off the top of a cupboard and landed, plop! Right in the centre of the breakfast table. The tea service went flying and everybody had the proper piss scared out them!
As they cleaned up the mess, Valerie joked that it might be a sign from on high: “Should we call ourselves The Pussy Cats, then?” Predictably, Myrna love the idea; so did Melly but she suggested amending it to Josie + The Pussy Cats. Josie was flattered! Greg pitched a blue and purple fit! “What’ll they say about me, then,” he fumed, “playing in a band with a name like that?” Val shut him down straightaway: “It’s nothing that they don’t already say, is it? Besides, that’s a smashing name for a band with girls out front. Nobody’s looking at you, luv; you’re just a brat sitting in back of us with a drum set.” Greg fussed and cussed up a storm - "we'll be laughed out of Liverpool!" - but in the end he was outvoted.
People in the neighborhood did laugh at a group called Josie + The Pussy Cats - until they heard them perform. Then the chuckles gave way to applause. Most Calypso ensembles had a lilting, lightly swinging sound. The Pussy Cats held forth with a heavier beat, provided by Greg who bore down hard on his conga drums, and by the girls’ Flamenco-influenced guitar-playing. Their readings of Calypso songs had a very aggressive edge!
The Pussy Cats also looked smashing. No island rags for them, eh wot! Melody Rutledge was an aspiring fashion designer who loved animal prints. She, Val and Josie stopped traffic in tight black pants and turtlenecks worn with tiger-stripe fur boots! Young Gregory cut a rakish figure, sporting a black “stingy brim” hat with tiger-stripe headband. So imaginative was Melly, she could dream up stage costumes at a moment’s notice; and her Auntie Myrna, an excellent seamstress, was capable of stitching patterns overnight.
With eye-catching costumes, Josie’s great lead instrument, Valerie’s strong lead voice, Gregory’s solid beats and the novelty of three female guitarists, The Pussy Cats quickly became a band everybody wanted to see. Just a month after their début at an out-of-the-way coffee bar, they were getting cheeky write-ups like this:
EARLY PUSSY CATS COSTUME
DESIGNS BY MELODY.
THE MAD MOD
Soho Socrates here, matey! They sure don’t sound like they’d amount to much - three birds and a brat on a Calypso kick. Wouldn’t you be surprised, though? One blonde, one brunette and one black beauty, swingin’ the daylights out of your tropical island favorites. And yon tyke pounds a mean bongo drum! Let the ladies swoon at Belafonte, then - Liverpool’s Josie + The Pussy Cats give us blokes something nice to look at! But don’t worry about taking your lovey dove along, mate; if she digs dancing to jungle rhythm, the lass will be more than satisfied! Get yourself some of this Scouse Pussy down at the Faux Paws, North End of Soho.
This is where I came in. My name is Albert Fox; I’m a booking agent and talent manager. For weeks, I was hearing great things about The Pussy Cats by word-of-mouth. Finding the time to catch their act was a challenge, but I eventually did when Normans Music Store hired them for a special promotion. Women are used to sell everything imaginable, so why not guitars? The band was set up to play right in the big store window.
All three lasses were easy on the eyes, but when I heard them sing and play a song called “Somebody Else’s Sweetheart” with vibrant Flamenco chords, I was blown away! Their vocals were fabulous, and the boy percussionist was exceptionally good. It wasn’t easy, convincing Josie that I should manage the group; having worked as a stripper among predatory males, not to mention her bad experience with The Jazz Babies, she was wary of being taken advantage of. And let me tell you, she was as fiercely protective of the girls as of her son! I got past her suspicious nature, though, and once I was in harness The Pussy Cats started playing better venues and earning good money.
Let me stop here and tell you in advance: This story takes some altogether strange turns, and that’s an understatement! Some of the people and situations that I’m going to tell you about are not at all what they seem to be. However, for the purpose of advancing the narrative, let’s pretend otherwise for the time being; the reason why will become apparent when my recollections are fully up to date.
Popular music in Great Britain was about to undergo a sea change. Rock ‘n’ Roll was breaking out all over and the parade of Elvis Presley clones had begun: The Cliff Richards, the Billy Furys, The Tommys, Martys, Dickies, Vinces and all the rest. I’ve always had something of a contrary nature and I just didn’t want to go down that teen idol route!
The Elvis imitators were aimed squarely at teenage girls. With a strong female act, I hoped to corral a young adult market that I felt was being neglected. Little did I know that soon enough, I’d be bollocks-deep in that Fifties Rock scene; but at the moment I was busy grooming what was going to be the hottest novelty act in the country. It was time to take The Pussy Cats to the next level, and for that they needed a recording contract!
My childhood mate Alexander just happens to be heir to a huge fortune. Very old money, too: The Cabots are not only one of the wealthiest families in England, but in all of Europe. Lex and his twin sister Alexandra are both enfants terribles - wild and impulsive, always pushing the envelope and keeping the pot stirred up! British high society clucks its collective tongue at their transgressions on a regular basis; yet there’s something adorable about the Cabots. That endearing quality has allowed them to get away with lots of mischief over the years.
For as long as I’ve known them, both Lex and Xandi have been absolutely obsessed with popular music! Xandi in particular is au courant with all the latest trends in Pop, and she can tell you anything you want to know about this or that recording artist. In late 1956, the Cabot siblings launched an independent record label called Triumph Records. They’d accumulated a small roster of artists that included a Skiffle group and a Cocktail Jazz crooner. I was a partner in their venture, so it was natural that I should recommend Josie + The Pussy Cats to them. I believed they’d be the breakout act that Triumph had yet to find.
Lex, the business side of the partnership, agreed with me that the lasses looked and sounded great - especially Valerie who he fell for almost immediately! Even so, he was against signing them. “Girl groups haven’t really been popular since The Andrews Sisters,” he warned, “and the Calypso craze is petering out. Besides that, can we break a group with two Black and two White members? And what about the White mother with a coloured son? Nothing wrong with it, of course, but you know how people are.”
Lex wanted to ditch the group and offer Val a solo contract, but I pushed back hard. “We don’t have to publicize that family relationship,” I reminded him. “The boy will be Greg James; just switch his first and middle names and drop the surname. And since he’s part of the group it isn’t just girls, is it? Greg can sing lead as well as harmony. What’s more, Caribbean Folk material isn’t all The Pussy Cats have going for them: they do Pop standards, too. They’re versatile, stylish and different; dammit, man, at least give them an audition!”
He still wouldn’t budge, but I got Alexandra to side with me. Her support was the most important, anyway, because she was the musical side of the partnership. Though Lex got the credit, she was in charge of recording activities. Xandi ran the audition, and when she joined in singing harmony with the girls I knew they’d clinched a deal! After some heated discussion with her brother, The Pussy Cats got a conditional thumbs-up.
“Their voices have got just the right blend,” Xandi told me, “especially with me adding a fourth part.” Subsequently, she’d lend background harmony to all of their early record dates. “If they follow my instructions to the letter, maybe I can do something with them. Remember those strange songs we got from America? I think they can be adapted to a Caribbean music style. Of course, we’ll augment their sound with studio musicians.”
JOSIE AND THE PUSSY CATS WITH
MANAGER ALBERT FOX AND THEIR
PRODUCERS, THE CABOT TWINS.
The “strange songs” she referenced came from Famous Music, an American publisher affiliated with Paramount Pictures in Hollywood. Famous had provided most of the start-up funds for Triumph Records, and that investment had given Famous executives some say over the label’s output. They’d been urging the Cabots to have Triumph artists cut songs by an up-and-coming composer named Burt Bacharach.
However, these songs had odd time signatures and melodic changes that you just didn’t hear in Pop songs; our artists found them daunting to sing and play! Frankly, neither Lex nor I cared for them but Xandi, whose tastes were somewhat avant-garde, found them intriguing. “Let’s sign The Pussy Cats to a singles contract,” she suggested, “and cut some Bacharach songs with them. Whether we go forward with the group will depend on how successful the songs are, and vice-versa.”
I delivered the good news to the band over a slap-up dinner at Simpson’s in the Strand. Greg squeezed his mum’s hand and blurted: “You’ll never have to shake your arse for horny bastards ever again!” An elderly woman at an adjoining table was so startled, she nearly choked on her biscuit! Well, Greg James didn’t have an ordinary upbringing, did he? The lad boasted a colorful show business vocabulary, and as time passed he’d be provocative in other ways. The Pussy Cats’ demo session was set for right after Saint Valentine’s Day, 1957.
Prior to that session, I insisted on a group makeover. I got them a choreographer, a top-notch make-up woman and a hair stylist. However, neither Valerie nor Melody were happy about this! Val balked at the heavily permed hairdos the stylist proposed for them. “It’s gonna make me flippin’ mop fall out!” she gasped. “Shan’t let that King’s Road cow touch me!” Her mother, who earned a living as a beautician, had warned Val against letting White people style her Caribbean curls. Black women’s hair can be very fragile, something I didn’t understand until she schooled me.
As for Melly, she considered herself the group’s de facto wardrobe mistress. The prospect of being dressed like Grace Kelly clones didn’t sit well with her at all. “Here now, we ain’t Hollywood rich bitches, are we? We’re working-class birds. And where’s our Pussy Cats motif?” she wanted to know. “That’s our trademark!”
We reached a compromise; the girls would have final say over changes in hair and clothes. Using to advantage what her mum taught her, Val tinted Josie’s brown hair Abbe Lane red and cut it into a stylish bob. It was a fabulous look! Marilyn Monroe’s tousled waves were her template for Melody, a natural platinum blonde; and she favored a Dorothy Dandridge “Carmen Jones” flip for herself. I daresay the most expensive Bond Street hair salon couldn’t have done a better job!
Melody made peace with the couturier’s strapless gold lamé party dresses, but she accessorized with animal print bodices and pumps, and a tiger stripe tuxedo jacket for Greg. Opaque black cat body stockings were her other contribution to the new look; I’m not sure what kind of material Myrna Munro used for them, but it was very sleek and resistant to rips and runs. The new costumes looked just shy of tacky to me, but I had to admit, they were awfully damn cute . . . and sexy, too!
A SPANISH-LANGUAGE ALBUM
IN THEIR FUTURE!
The Pussy Cats took to the other changes readily; within weeks, the dance instructor had them as lithe and light on their feet as ballroom competitors. Val could sing in Spanish, so I suggested they add some Latin standards to the act. Lex was right about the Calypso trend; by the end of ‘57 it was truly “stone cold dead in the market!” Latin music remained popular, though, and we managed a smooth transition away from the West Indian repertoire.
In fact, the new bilingual set list worked so well, I felt the group was ready for significantly more upscale venues. Goodbye to coffee bars and folksinger hangouts, hello to gentleman’s clubs and ballrooms! Alexandra caught their new act at Dublin’s Palm Beach Ballroom and quite liked what she saw. “They’ve got the right looks and the right moves,” she observed. “Now they need original song repertoire to complete the package.”
The demo session at Regent Sound Studios saw the group successfully track two songs by Burt Bacharach: “Move It On The Backbeat”, an up tempo number featuring the girls singing in unison, and “The Miracle Of Saint-Marie”, a Folk-flavored ballad led by Greg. Since they were only demos, there was no augmented studio crew; once again, Alexandra sang background and played the organ, while the group members accompanied themselves on guitars and percussion. Though satisfied with the results, Xandi didn’t feel that either song met her requirements for advancing to a singles session.
So instead of scheduling one, she gave The Pussy Cats several other Bacharach tunes to rehearse. “Make them work for you on stage,” she instructed, “and in three months, we’ll see which ones are ready to be recorded.” Among the songs added to their repertoire were “Walk On By”, “Anyone Who Had A Heart”, “Another Tear Falls”, “London Life” and “Keep Away From Other Girls!” They were difficult to sing, but Josie was the sort of bandleader who loved a challenge; what’s more, Val, Melly and especially Greg had good ears for variations in tempo.
After intense rehearsal, they introduced the new numbers. Those songs, along with the changes we’d already put in place invigorated the Pussy Cats’ stage show. Word began to spread about their unusual material; but soon enough, we realized that that word-of-mouth wasn’t always about anything music-related!
Put three buxom beauties on stage in form-fitting tiger-stripe costumes, and queer characters are sure to come leaping out of the woodwork. Certain sorts of people thought Josie + The Pussy Cats were spicy Lesbians or singing prostitutes (with young Gregory as their pimp)! Then there were the animal fetishists, about which the less said the better; but however freakish the attraction to them may be, the band always sets the record straight. They impress with their seriousness of purpose and the high quality of their music. In my opinion, The Pussy Cats are the equal of The Shadows and every other top instrumental group; they sing up a proper storm; and their set lists are nothing less than superb.
At IBC Studios, The Pussy Cats convened for their first official singles session in June of 1957. Waiting for them there were me, the Cabot Twins and the group of session horn players that Alexandra called her “Kool-Tyme Katts.” They were led by a sprite of a female piano player named Priscilla Potts; she was Alexandra’s go-to arranger. Everybody called her “Pepper Pot!” Pep was a joy to work with: A quick study, very professional and not “peppery” at all.
The rest of the band was male: Peter Tosh, Bunny Wailer, Robbie Shakespeare, Jimmy Cliff, Byron Lee and Lee Perry were all coloured men and mostly from the Caribbean. They spoke in rapid-fire island dialect, which only Valerie could understand; but somehow that never hurt their working relationship with Pepper! Her level of musicianship was extraordinary, and they all had the utmost respect for her. The Kool-Tyme Katts functioned like a well-oiled machine and were the perfect complement to my Pussy Cats; ironic, isn’t it, that they started out as a Calypso band, only to transition to Pop with the help of Caribbean musicians?
JOSIE AND THE PUSSY CATS AT IBC STUDIOS
WITH JOE MEEK AND PEPPER POTTS.
The group also met the very eccentric Joe Meek, Triumph’s in-house engineer. He’s since become quite the runaway success, but we knew him when he was just starting out. Greg and Val found Joe amusing; Melly seemed a bit wary of the man, as was I. Josie got her fill of him straightaway: she thought he was arrogant and bossy! True enough, Joe could be a brusque man to deal with, but he was always deferential to Lex, Xandi and I. The bloke knew damn well which toes not to step on! He wasn’t the main engineer at IBC, but Xandi thought he had a special way in the sound booth.
That “special way” of Joe’s included lots of unconventional methods of creating and recording sound. Josie was often alarmed by his tricks: Augmenting the percussion with cutlery tapped on soda bottles and shaken boxes of parking lot gravel; having the girls play their guitars with matchbooks instead of picks; overdubbing the trap drum with foot stomping, and other bizarre innovations.
He also liked to put special microphones on Xandi and Pepper’s keyboards and feed the sound into a daft-looking audio processor - his own invention! Sometimes it distorted a piano something awful, and Alexandra had to reign him in a bit. For the most part, though, she gave Joe free reign and he relished that freedom. He used her productions as a stepping stone to a producing career of his own.
Alexandra decided that “Walk On By” and “Anyone Who Had A Heart” would be among the four songs tracked, and Josie had high hopes for them. However, more time was lavished on a brand new Bacharach tune that The Pussy Cats didn’t think much of. “What’s this, then? ‘Magic Potion’ is a twee song!” Melody complained. Valerie agreed: “I don’t think the audiences we play for will like it much.” Xandi responded that it wasn’t meant for audiences but for record buyers: “We need to break you on the charts with something people can click their fingers to!” Sometimes, she went on to explain, there’d be a difference between what the band performed on stage and what they recorded. “I know it isn’t right for any of you girls to sing, so young Gregory will take the lead.”
Triumph X 703
MAGIC POTION/
WHO'S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED?
JOSIE + THE PUSSY CATS
A CABOT TWINS PRODUCTION
Arranged by “PEPPER”
- November 1957, mid-chart hit
With Xandi coaching him, the thirteen-year-old lay down a very professional-sounding vocal. When they heard the playback, The Pussy Cats had to admit that she’d produced a charming little record - though they still didn’t fancy it! Regardless, they were excited when the record broke for a modest hit upon its release in the Fall. “Now that the public has been introduced to you,” Lex told them, “we can introduce Valerie as lead singer and move you in a more adult direction.” He was keen to date Val up, and had already begun making moves on her! To be fair, I should stress that he really did think she had the best voice. So did I at the time.
But nobody foresaw the amazing growth spurt Greg James experienced between the first and second recording sessions. At just fourteen, he completely lost his boyish charm and started looking (and acting) like a cocky young man! His voice also changed dramatically: From a crisp Laurie London boy soprano to a rich Nat “King” Cole baritone. Suddenly, there were no songs in his key! Pepper tried to modulate chords for him, but without success; Xandi had to request some new songs from Famous Music.
In the meantime, Valerie and Melody began singing all the leads. They did so at the second and last IBC recording session in November of ‘57. I thought both of them sounded fabulous, but Alexandra wasn’t satisfied: “I just don’t hear any A-sides among the new tracks we recorded. Sorry, but we can’t release a new single yet!”
During this transition period, The Pussy Cats embarked on their first concert tour. Along with up-and-coming British stars like Cliff Richard, Adam Faith and Émile Ford, they stopped at Edmonton’s Granada Theatre, The Gaumont in Southampton, Odeon Theatres in Exeter, Cheltenham, Birmingham, Leeds and Glasgow, and London’s Coventry Theatre. They broke in additional Burt Bacharach songs, polished their stage act and introduced audiences to the “new” Greg James.
Even at this early stage, it was apparent to me that Greg would become the group’s lead vocalist; but Josie preferred to think the leads would continue to be shared. What we agreed on was that fresh ground had been laid on tour; The Pussy Cats were ready to record adult material!
END OF PART ONE!