Out-Spectoring Spector
by Rich Horton
NOTE: This is a revised & updated version of an article that I originally wrote for Dave Liljengren’s East Portland Blog in January, 2011.
So Phil Spector is dead. There’s no question that he was in many ways a vile human being; he died in prison, after all, where he was doing time for murder. Nonetheless, nobody can deny his influential role in how pop & rock records were made. And virtually all of us continue to love certain records that were produced in his distinctive Wall of Sound style, either by him or by those influenced by him.
In the days before multi-tracking, producers of rock-influenced pop records were stuck with the thorny problem of how to translate rock’s bombast over the tinny car radio speakers on which most American teenagers heard the music. Phil Spector’s was to invite 20 and sometimes 30 musicians and singers into the studio to create a Wall of Sound that would sound immense, even on the crappiest of speakers.
And the results were impressive. Though most of Spector’s records featured untrained teenaged singers, his patented Wall of Sound gave an urgency of those records that made them sound like the most important thing in the world. Even decades later, Spector-produced records like “The Loco-Motion” by Lil’ Eva and “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” by The Righteous Brothers still have visceral power. Brian Wilson often relates the story of the first time he heard The Ronettes’ “Be My Baby” while driving his car and had to pull over to the curb, mesmerized by the hugeness of the sound emanating from his trebly car radio speakers. Wilson describes it as a life-changing, almost religious experience.
Although Brian Wilson may be one of the more well-known of Spector disciples – particularly because Wilson’s own studio expertise eventually surpassed Spector’s – dozens of pop music producers followed in Spector’s footsteps. Even well into the mid-to-late Sixties – even after 4 and 8-track recording techniques had taken hold, and even when George Martin and The Beatles were inventing new ways of recording – Phil Spector’s influence loomed large among a generation of producers.
And on some occasions, Phil’s disciples could actually out-Spector Spector.
Take this 1962 recording by The Four Seasons, for example. Frankie Valli and the Seasons may have started out as a self-contained doo-wop group, but by the time they entered the recording studio, it was clear that producer Bob Crewe had been paying attention to Phil Spector. Crewe used Frankie Valli’s sometimes painfully shrieking falsetto as a centerpiece to create his own wall of sound for the group by recording all four singers at equal volume during the Refrains, and like Spector before him, he added a mountain of reverb and echo to the instrumental and percussion backing tracks and brought their volume almost up to the level of the singers. And as big a hit as “Big Girls Don’t Cry” was, Phil Spector could have been forgiven if he’d demanded production royalties in absentia.
In late 1963, just mere months before The Beatles invaded America, a young Quincy Jones produced an even younger Lesley Gore on “She’s A Fool.” It was an angry record that seemed anomalous at a time when pop was still fairly innocent. But Jones’ production of Gore was full of Spectorish tricks, including reverberating hand-claps, a wall of saxophones, and a driving, clinking piano. And drifting high above it all were soprano voices that could have shattered glass and underneath was a foundation of low-toned “shag-a-doo-las” from a male quartet. The combination of these elements emphasized the urgency and the undeniable catchiness of Lesley’s anger. It’s a production masterpiece that out-Spectors Spector.
By 1966, after “Rubber Soul” had made it clear that a small band did not need the services of an army of studio musicians to create huge-sounding records, many bands tried to prove they could do it, too, often with failed results. But still there were some who couldn’t afford a Beatles-type studio experimentation when they needed a hit record. Take Lou Christie, for example. Christie was a pop artist who’d had a couple of hits in the early Sixties, but by 1965 he’d gone a long stretch without a hit and was trying desperately to resurrect his career. That’s when he turned to producer Charles Calello – a man who’d worked off and on with the aforementioned Bob Crewe and had written the arrangements for many of the hits for The Four Seasons. Together, Christie and Calello created “Lightnin’ Strikes,” a record that updated the Wall of Sound for the times and snarls and roars with lustful urgency.
Of course, there are many more examples of other producers out-Spectoring Spector. One that comes quickly to mind is Sonny & Cher’s “I Got You, Babe,” which is full of Spectoresque tricks, including catchy instrumental quirks – think: lead oboe on the refrains and the ubiquitous glockenspiel that adorned so many Wall of Sound recordings. However, Sonny & Cher had both worked at the feet of the Master, singing background vocals on many a Spector production. Given that history, Bono’s production of “I Got You, Babe” might not really be a fair example of out-Spectoring Spector.
But there’s also a somewhat more recent example. “Never Gonna Get Married,” recorded in 1999 by the fictional Schulte Sisters (a fake group produced by the fake producer, Clem Comstock), is an over-the-top homage to Spector’s girl-group recordings while out-Spectoring him. (From the CD “Where Has the Music Gone? The Lost Recordings of Clem Comstock,” 1999, Mental Giant Records).
And who can forget that one of Bruce Springsteen’s earliest and best hits, “Born to Run,” marks off all the Wall of Sound check boxes with its ringing glockenspiel duplicating the guitar hooks, a wailing baritone sax deepening the bass line, and an ocean of reverb drenching the whole production.
Aside from Spector’s influence and genius, it should be noted that there were times he failed to live up to his own mythology, and, in fact, could let down some pretty important bands with his rabid production style. I mean, does anyone ever listen to “End of the Century,” anymore – The Ramones album that found Spector’s flamboyant production style badly mismatched to the band’s punky instincts?
The Number One example of a Spector failure, though, was when he let down the biggest band in the world, The Beatles. You may recall that John Lennon insisted that Spector produce the “Let It Be” album – a record that Lennon previously had adamantly demanded have no overdubbing or extra backing tracks. In Spector’s hands, the album ran off the rails with his misguided production work on songs like “The Long and Winding Road” and “Across the Universe.” To this day, Paul McCartney still blames Spector for ruining those two songs.
Aside from that, I prefer the fun exercise of coming up with examples of records that out-Spector Spector, and an entertaining evening can be had pulling out copies of Freddie Boom-Boom Cannon’s “Palisades Park,” Skeeter Davis’ “I Can’t Stay Mad At You,” or Dusty Springfield’s “I Only Want to Be With You,” and debating whether they’re examples of records that out-Spector Spector. Go dig out your old 45’s!
– Rich Horton