Music Before the Money

“I’m gonna knock on your door
Ring on your bell
Tap on your window, too
If you don’t come out tonight, when the moon is bright
I’m gonna knock and ring and tap until you do.”

(Aaron Schroeder, Sid Wayne)

I still have my first 45RPM record, Eddie Hodges I’m Gonna Knock on Your Door. Although it came out in 1961 my aunt gave it to my a few years later, just before The Beatles came to America. Eddie was a child star who was drafted and went to Vietnam. When he came back from the war he became a child psychologist in New Orleans and stayed during Hurricane Katrina. Funny how one scratchy 45 tells a story, isn’t it?

At one time I was buying a 45 a week with my paper route money: Paul Revere and the Raiders, The Turtles, The Rolling Stones (I still have Ruby Tuesday).

The glamor behind 45’s was that, until downloading mp3’s came along - you could sample the band, a hit and a “B” side, for 98 cents without having to fork over $5 for the whole album. Because, with exception to The Beatles and their caliber of bands, most albums in the ’60’s were one hit song and a pile of filler tunes, sometimes played by studio musicians as in the case of Gary Lewis and the Playboys, Dino Desi and Billy and many groups who got into the scene because of their looks or were sons of movie stars.

I recorded 4 of the little records with the hole. The first was in 1978 and when it came in I spent hours staring at it. I liked it so much I made 4 more.

Not that getting it played was easy. I got modest airplay because my label never had a distribution deal but hearing my song on the radio was a great kick.

The lowly 45 still exists in places where jukeboxes will not give way to the new technology. Because there’s something magical about watching a 45 being picked out its rack and placed on the turntable by a set of calipers followed by th low the rumble as the Wurlitzer speakers belt out the opening bars.

The 45 Adapters are from Chuck Miller’s site:

In the ’60’s and ’70’s, “cutting a record” was the Holy Grail of musicians. To be able to drive down the street with your song playing on the radio was the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest. You could die after the song ended and your life was complete. There was never any thought about monetary compensation or who owned what percentage of the royalties. It was about the feeling and knowing that people were listening to something you created. Unlike the great artists and musicians of the 1800’s you did not have to be dead to be recognized.

The studio itself was similar to the inside of a “boogey van”: plush carpets on the floor, and sometimes on the walls and ceilings. The whole world was revealed to the engineer through the triple-paned picture window in front of the console and the huge speakers suspended on each side of the room.

My first studio experience was called a “quick dip” and was done at Total Sound West Studios in Vancouver. For $500 (1978 money) you could get in for the day and have 2 songs recorded. Then it was pressed onto a 45 and you got 250 of those to keep. You didn’t get to keep the 2″ tape but they gave you the master. It was not an unpleasant experience but - as I found myself doing many times later - everyone watched the clock. The producer was renting the studio and his profit depended on the time. He was getting the 2 musicians for $25 a pop.

The musicians we had were great and a harmonica player showed up and played for $10, just enough to get a few beers afterwards before his next gig. It was his harp that made the songs.

It was good experience. I knew my songs and could sing them in the first couple of tries, because that’s all we had. The guitar player doubled on bass and the drummer used the studio kit. Because the producer was a rocker the songs were mixed drum-heavy.

And, y’know, they didn’t turn out badly at all. I guess I received a total of $97 in royalties over a couple of years and several TV appearances so, all-in-all, it was a great experience. I also got more work because I was a”Recording Act.”

I later went on to do an album - also a “quick dip”- which also received some airplay from the FM stations and a few TV spots. And some country DJ in Edmonton played a cut off the album for almost a year.