I love a list

I am assuming that the majority of people who read this blog are over the age of about 55. That being the case my question to you is what were you doing 50 years ago yesterday?

If you were a diary writer and you have kept your diaries, as diary writers are wont to do I suspect, then you could dig out your 1975 documentation and answer the question pretty accurately. I was never a good diary writer but I can say with almost complete certainty one of the things I did on the 7^th November 1975, and I did it again yesterday!

In 1975 I was still at school, the 7^th November 1975, like yesterday, was a Friday, so, unless I was ill, I can conjure up how the day would have panned out. Breakfast, quite possibly Shredded Wheat (I have always been a fan, and that was breakfast yesterday). Grab the bike out of the garage and cycle/walk to school, meeting up with a couple of friends along the way. I don’t know which lessons I had that day but they would have included some, though probably not all, of: Pure Maths, Statistics, Economics, and Geography, those being the ‘A’ levels I took, and I was in the Upper Sixth that year. Lunchtime (at least!) would have almost undoubtedly been spent in the Sixth Form common room (unless it happened to be the day the floor in the terrapin structure collapsed!) and involved playing darts, cards, and records. Great times. I would have had sandwiches for lunch, probably cheese and pickle, made by mum (yesterday I had sausage sandwiches for lunch made by my wife). Sometime in the afternoon I would have ambled back home with my friends (we tended to chat a lot so pushed our bikes a fair amount when we were together). In the evening mum would quite possibly have served up fishfingers, chips, and peas as fish on Friday was very much still a thing (yesterday I had mushroom wellington, made by my wife, leftover from a little dinner party she had with some friends the night before). After that I probably strolled up to the Green Dragon to meet friends and drink Courage Best. (Although, thinking about it, I may have been shelf stacking and dealing with the “offy” empties at the Co-op in the early evening). There is a certain amount of conjecture in all of this of course, but if I had kept a diary I’m betting its narrative for the day wouldn’t have been far off this.

I can say with some certainty though there is one thing I did on 7^th November 1975, and that is read the Black Wax List #66. You can see in the picture I wrote the date in the top right corner. Exactly when I read it on that day I’m not sure, that would depend on whether or not the postie delivered it before I went to school. But I know I loved a list and I would have given an initial read as soon as I opened it.

Black Wax was a record shop in Streatham back in the day and sent out regular mail order lists. The first one of theirs I received was #57. I didn’t write a date on that one but it was probably sent out sometime in February 1975 (I think possibly I only wrote the receipt date of the list on the ones I ordered from). A fact I don’t think I knew at the time was that Black Wax was run by Tony Cummings, a respected soul music journalist who started and edited Black Music magazine in the early seventies. From 1974 on I had a copy of Black Music magazine delivered regularly by the local newsagent (I can’t imagine they delivered many, if any, other copies to the area). Black Wax obviously had a prominent advert in the magazine.

I still love lists and I have kept all the mail order lists I received back then (of course I have!), and so it was I found myself reading Black Wax List #66 exactly 50 years since I had first received and read it. You may be wondering what prompted me to do this? Well it was not an initially intentional anniversary act. The folder with all these old lists was to hand because I had, earlier in the week, had occasion to refer to another old list. Flicking through I noticed the date on this particular list and thought, well, I must read it to celebrate its anniversary! (The folder was relatively to hand because I had wiped the dust off it and given the lists a bit of of a going over, including this one, a couple of years ago and I intend to feature some more in subsequent posts).

In fact I did more than read it yesterday, I performed what amounts to a deep dive into it. An extra deep dive. It runs to 14 pages. The first three pages cover postage rates (11p to post a single 45), some other general information, and two pages and a bit pages of new releases – Donna Summer Love To Love You Baby (65p) was #1 in their Disco Chart. The subsequent 11 pages were dedicated to their “amazing “January Sale In November””. They were clearing oldies to make way for new stock (lots of which were probably going to be oldies too!). Just over 700 singles were listed (some feat of typing) at 30p each or 4 for £1.

So, what did I discover?

As I said I had looked at these lists a couple of years ago with a view to finding out, with the benefit of hindsight, how many bargains were on them. There were many, and I documented them. Back when these lists were issued there was, of course, no internet, Spotify, or the like and there was a lot of great ‘black’ music from the golden decade lying around in warehouses undiscovered, even though Northern Soul DJs were making inroads into that. Looking at Black Wax Lists #66 and #67 I made a list of 29 records in the 4 for £1 section that now have a Discogs median price of more than £50. To put that into perspective those 29 records would have set me back £7.25 in 1975, money I didn’t have then of course, never mind that the buying process was little more than sticking a pin on a page. In today’s money accounting for inflation that equates to around £77. The actual total of today’s median Discogs sold prices of these records is over £4000. In fact it’s reasonable to assume the majority records on these lists would have yielded some appreciation in value from the 2025 equivalent selling price of £2.68.

My deeper dive into this list yesterday was to see if at the time I ordered any records from it, and also to see how many 45s that appeared on the list I now own, mostly following my re-found obsession this century with little black round things with a big hole.

Deciphering little marks and squiggles I made on the list at the time I think I can identify three 45s still in my collection (I say still, but in reality if it is soul or funk I have never unloaded anything). Maybe I ordered more, but these were the only ones still in stock. The three are Betty Davis Git In There, Funk Inc. Dirty Red, and Ruth Brown Try Me And See. Betty Davis I knew of at the time, the others were very probably blind buys, so pot luck.

Now to the records on this list that I have subsequently bought over the years (mostly, no doubt, for more than the equivalent of 25p in 1975). I counted 70. So I now own about 10% of the records that appeared on this list. I think that’s quite a lot!

Some examples:

The most expensive/desirable record today that was on List #66 is Vivian Copeland Chaos In My Heart. This one has a current Discogs median sold price of £600. It has sold twice on Discogs this year, neither copy being in tip top condition. Of course back in 1975 the listed copy (or copies) would have almost certainly been mint dead stock.

One I wish I owned, and maybe I’ll splash the cash one day is Brothers Of Soul Candy / Dream. Current Discogs median sold price of around £270. It was on multiple lists in the cheap section back in 1975. Obviously dead warehouse stock, probably mostly brought into the UK by John Anderson of Soul Bowl fame. All of those have disappeared into collections now. My pot luck back in 1975 didn’t extend to one of them unfortunately.

Betty Davis Git In There. One I bought from the list. Current Discogs median sold price £22. It has sold a few times this year. A great slab of nasty funk from Miles’ ex.

Betty Davis – Git In There 1974

Gene Chandler There Goes The Lover. One of the 70 I have subsequently bought, probably about eight years ago. Current Discogs median sold price £12. A perennial favourite on the soul scene. A gorgeous slice of Windy City soul.

Gene Chandler – There Goes The Lover 1967

Mañana

So this blog has been sort of active again this year, now and then, after a fashion. Sporadically, shall we say. I’m still digging through my boxes and still buying records, which in turn are throwing up plenty of tracks which are worth sharing. Quite often, mostly in the middle of the night or in the morning before I get up, I can formulate a post in my head. I think to myself – yes that sounds good – although sometimes, like a slippery eel, the words subsequently escape me (rather like the memory of dreams do). Usually, though, it is simply that somehow the actual physical act of writing a few words and formulating a post is a step too far.

I’ve been asking myself why this feeling of mañana surrounding this blog pervades nowadays.

I’m not sure I have an answer. I guess I started to miss a beat here about six years ago, which coincided with me retiring from work. In theory then I now have more time on my hands now so that shouldn’t be the issue. But maybe it is. I think the act of publishing this blog was a way of switching off from work, marry that to the fact I have always worked better to a deadline (working meant less free time which effectively limited the time I could dedicate to the blogging lark). Now I’m retired there are holidays, days out, afternoon visits to the pub, gardening, chasing butterflies around a field, fishing, DIY (lots of that when our daughter bought a flat a few years ago, and possibly more on the horizon soon as our son has bought a small house); and this year a rekindled and growing obsession with catching and recording moths (the collector instinct again, I let them go of course). In between all that I could easily choose to dedicate some time to writing a blog post but, crucially perhaps, I can’t invent deadlines because all the time now is my own and all those activities are enjoyable so I find there is nothing to switch off from and writing this blog, certainly when I was working, was I think a sort of escape mechanism.

The other thing I have noticed in retirement, and as I get older, is my increasing desire to be outdoors, amongst nature. If the weather’s good, which it certainly has been this year, that could mean I’m simply lounging in the garden reading or listening to music. (It’s a hard life! Whilst I’m sitting there sunning myself I could write a blog, I hear you say? But actually for me that would be impossible. I need to type on a laptop, or at a pinch on a tablet, and reading the screen on such devices - at least the ones I own - is impossible).

Perhaps all my musings on the subject is just a lot of hot air though and it is simply that retirement is just one endless mañana moment! (Apologies, and sympathy, to all those that are slaving at the coal face).

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I have just read that Leslie Wilson passed away a few days ago. He was a lead member, and singer, with The New Birth in the seventies. I had a real soft spot for them back in the day. Their single It’s Been A Long Time was one of the first few soul singles I owned, and I have a couple of their albums. I saw someone describe them as Rotary Connection meets Earth Wind & Fire which sums up their sound pretty well I think. Their output has been plundered many times by the hip-hop world and the samplers.

It’s Been A Long Time has featured here before – back in 2008! – and I notice then I was bleating on about not having posted for a while so perhaps it has been forever thus here! The “while” was measured as only a couple of weeks back then though.

The New Birth – It’s Been A Long Time 1973

RIP Leslie Wilson (born June 17th 1953, died October 27th 2025).

The state of this little nation

The state of this little backwater of the Internet can be summed up by this record. 

I bagged it at a car boot earlier this year and was very happy to do so. It is a great double sider and is in remarkably good condition considering it was sleeveless, and, more to the point, is a year older than me (actually, a few people say I am in remarkably good condition for my age. but I couldn’t possibly comment!). The circumstances of its discovery were satisfying too. I don’t frequent boot sales nearly as much as I used to, but it became obvious that the seller was something of a recent fixture as I became surrounded by a few scavengers that were obviously regulars. I was riffling through a couple of boxes of reggae singles, promising in itself but they were mostly trashed. A couple of people at least had already been through the box and a few singles had been pulled out already. I also pulled out a couple of reggae things, and this one. I knew it wasn’t reggae and in the back of my mind I had heard of the artists and guessed (right) that it was early R&B. The asking price for the reggae singles were typically £4 and north – because it was reggae, no doubt, you don’t come across it often in the wild, and the seller was clearly a fan – but I bagged this single for a couple of quid, maybe because he knew it wasn’t reggae. I got it home, cleaned it up, put it on the turntable, dropped the arm... and punched the air in delight. I then proceeded to play it at least three times in a row. And it was miles better than the two ‘blind’ reggae singles I bought.

There was a time at this here “publication” when you would have been aware of this fact within days, if not hours, of the event. But here’s the thing – this all happened months ago.

I did, however, publicise this event fairly quickly on a, now largely tumbleweed, record forum I still frequent; and I also put the single in a box of random 45s that was taken, at the next opportunity, to a local hostelry that puts on a monthly(ish) BYO vinyl session, and got it played. But I didn’t post it here until now, which is something of a puzzle. For that, I apologise. I know, I must try harder. *

I intend to explore further (i.e. bore you) in a subsequent post why it is I am not posting here more frequently nowadays – because I certainly have no shortage of records to share – but, for now, I will leave you with both sides of this rather excellent 45.

Gene Forrest and Eunice Russ Levy hailed from Texas and between 1954 (before the dawn of the Rock ‘n’ Roll era) and 1960 enjoyed a string of charting single successes, and were very popular in the US and the Caribbean. Popular in the UK too, enough for them to have eight UK releases, of which this was the first in November 1956. The copy of the single I found has long since lost its original tri-centre (possibly removed by someone who wanted to put it in their jukebox, but more likely by a DJ who was trying to intimate it was a US release), nevertheless the grooves still maintain their magic.

Gene And Eunice –I Gotta Go Home 1956

Gene And Eunice –Have You Changed Your Mind? 1956

* I have just discovered I uploaded the mp3s of this 45 back in June! So the intention to share, at least, was there.

(A belated) R.I.P. Red Kelly

Earlier this year I paid belated respects to someone I didn’t know but felt like I did.

Today I need to do the same.

On this day in 2022 Robert Keller died suddenly at the age of 67. It’s no age to die really. To me and thousands of soul music lovers like me Robert Keller was better known as Red Kelly. His “The B Side” blog was one of the many focussed on classic soul music I avidly followed back in the Noughties, in the heyday of the format. Red went on to launch other blogs and websites dedicated to soul music, particularly Southern soul, and helped to bring some long forgotten and underappreciated singers and musicians out of the shadows and in some cases effectively bring them back to the stage. His research and dedication to the cause was prodigious and is sorely missed. A friend of his – John Broven – wrote an obituary for him which described his work in more detail, you can read it here (you will need to scroll down a bit). Most, if not all, of his blogs and writings are still available on the internet, as seems to be the case generally with such things in the digital world nowadays.

Red had emailed me just a few weeks before his death (we had conversed a bit over the years via email but by no means regularly). Back in 2008 he had taken up my cause to try and find out more information on Joni Wilson, who recorded just one very obscure single on the Volt label. He emailed me to say that at the Stax Museum’s wall of singles (an attempt to display a copy of every Stax And Volt single released) there were only eight missing, and Joni Wilson’s was one of them. As I was the only person he knew that owned a copy he wondered if I might consider donating my copy. As of last year, when I visited the Stax Museum, I can confirm there is still a space where the Joni Wilson 45 could sit. I am not ready to part with my copy yet, but it is something I might do one day, and it would be partly in memory of Red. Recently I have hatched another theory as to who Joni Wilson might have been and it would have been great to have passed it by Red. I’m sure he would have been interested, and with the contacts he had built up doing his research projects he may have been able to run with it.

RIP Robert Keller “Red Kelly” who passed away on July 14^th 2022, age only 67.

A nice break

We all know where Steve Davis is this week – well, snooker fans do, at least). The World Snooker Championship is in play in Sheffield and that’s where Steve will be, commentating and providing analysis. I know where Steve was on the first Saturday of this month - at my local record fair, and I went to it quietly confident he would be because he seems to be making a concerted effort to trim down his record collection and is frequenting the fairs quite a bit lately. That chimes well with me because he is continuing to offload a lot of soul 45s (the background to this I expanded upon a bit in my February post).

So I went a bit mad again and bought another 32 singles! Most of them came from the cheap (£2.50) boxes, but I indulged in a few higher priced gems too. I tell myself I am not likely to find this many of my go to type of record – i.e. 60s/70s soul with a big hole in the middle – in one place in the wild(ish) anywhere else in the UK so I better take the opportunity and “fill me boots”!

I did apply some quality control this time as the stack I originally pulled was probably twice as high as the one you see in the picture, but I religiously gave each one I didn’t know a needle drop on my Soundburger look-alike. This contraption got a few appreciative comments this time, strangely the first time I can remember that happening when I have been using it at a fair.

So, to use a snooker analogy, a think I amassed a nice break – plenty of reds (the cheap ones) but a few colours too (the relatively expensive ones).

A red: 

Recorded at Muscle Shoals Sound in 1978, the studio is know known as Cypress Moon and where, almost exactly a year ago, Mrs Darce and I were taking a stroll along the river . 

Muscle Shoals was very much moving with the 1970s times with this one which has a distinctively funky feel.    

The Dealers - We Want To Get Through To You  1978

A colour: 

A classic Memphis sound, Barbara Brown either billed alone or with The Browns never made a bad record.   

Barbara & The Browns - If I Can't Run To You I'll Crawl  1971

Really feeling like we need to get back to the Deep South soon.

The key ingredient of Hot Sauce

I enjoyed watching the Stax Soulsville USA documentary series shown recently Sky Arts. It followed up nicely my visit to the Stax Museum last year, and coincided with my re-reading of Peter Guralnick’s excellent book Sweet Soul Music where I just happened to be in the middle of the chapters dedicated to Stax Records when I watched the documentary. 

Two of the earliest soul singles I bought, back in the early 70s, were Isaac Hayes’ Theme From Shaft and The Staple Singers’ I’ll Take You There. The documentary spent, quite rightly, a deal of time on Isaac Hayes, and Theme From Shaft, including footage of it being worked through in the studio. Back in the early 70s, when I was a young teenager, I was simply loving the music without any idea of the backdrop to its making. My concerted dive into all things Stax over the last few months has finally brought home to me the tumultuous times, both culturally in the USA, and in the business runnings of Stax Records, in which these records were being made. I have to say I got quite emotional watching the final episode of the documentary marrying up memories of my young innocent self listening to those singles at home with the footage of the actual artists and backroom staff who were involved in their making and distribution, and what they meant for black Americans at that time.

Today’s record is one that recently dropped on my doormat.

Volt was one of Stax Records labels. Hot Sauce were… who? Well, “they” (as I had always thought) had a run of six 45s on Volt, this being the first in the late summer of 1971, and she (as it turns out) had the unfortunate pleasure of having the final 45 released on the label in early1975 just before Stax finally had to shut it doors for good. There was even a Hot Sauce album (in truth predominantly a collection of tracks form the six already released 45s – but Stax were struggling by then) slated for release and given a catalog number (and name checked on that final 45), but it was never to be. Ace Records finally did the honours, in a way, in 2012 by releasing the album as it would have been on CD. The CD was credited to Rhonda Washington because she was, essentially, Hot Sauce.

The track featured here is a beautiful ballad, the B side of the wonderfully titled I’ll Kill A Brick (About My Man). (“Kill A Brick” meaning a demonstration of extreme anger. The phrase was in use in the black population – at least in Harlem and at least as far back as the early 60s – as documented in a New York Times article published in 1964). For this first single Hot Sauce were, apparently, a trio – Rhonda on lead vocals with two male backing singers. But after that Hot Sauce was Rhonda Washington alone.

It is believed that Rhonda hailed from St. Louis and was Chuck Berry’s niece. Her first known appearance on wax was as the lead singer of the (Mighty) Mustangs who had two singles released in 1964/5 on the Sure-Shot label. All four sides of these singles were written by Gladys Battle, Rhonda’s mum. I would say Rhonda sounds young on these outings, probably in her teens. The second of the two singles is very rare. There followed, probably in early 1967, the only 45 released under her own name, again on the Sure-Shot label. This 45 appears to be insanely rare; it’s on Discogs but with no copies for sale and nobody claiming to own it, it’s not listed on 45cat, and there are no recorded sales on Popsike. It’s possible it was never actually released. Between 1967 and her appearance as Hot Sauce in 1971 she does not seem to have had any recording credits.

All the Volt Hot Sauce sides were credited to Irene Productions, Irene being Irene Perkins, wife of Al Perkins DJ, singer, songwriter and producer (latterly of Al Hudson & The Soul Partners / One Way), who was based in Detroit after being a DJ in Memphis. Velma Perkins appears in some credits (as songwriter Vee Allen) and was Al Perkins sister. However, despite being on Volt but also bearing strong Detroit links most of the Hot Sauce sides were actually probably recorded at Willie Mitchell’s Royal Studio just down the road from Stax’s studios.

Rhonda Washington had a great voice and, who knows, if Stax had had more money for promotion and hadn’t had to close its doors when it did she might well be much more of a household name. As far as is known though, as the doors at Stax closed for good they did also on Rhonda’s recording career. It is rumoured she went back to St. Louis and, possibly, gospel music. Certainly nothing seems to be known now of her whereabouts, if indeed she is still alive.

Hot Sauce – I Can’t Win For Losing 1971

One of those

You know the feeling when you hear a song and it quickly gets inside your head and you just can't stop replaying it to yourself, sometimes to the point you wish it would go away? "That's an earworm", I hear you say, and you are absolutely right. So why didn't I just say the word? Well, there is no doubt it perfectly describes the experience, but for reasons I can't explain I just don't like the word.

Anyway, this obscure song by Don Austin has recently become one of those for me. I heard it on Doug Schulkind's excellent WFMU Give The Drummer Some radio show. He usually plays a set of soul - often deep soul - 45s at the end of his program and this was one he played on a show from a few weeks ago. On hearing it immediately went onto the Internet to see if I could find a copy. Discogs had two for sale in the UK and I bought one of them. By the time it dropped through the letterbox the song The Thrill Of Yesterday (a B side) was already installed in my head, so maybe I hadn't needed to buy it all.    

First of all I should say this track is not deep soul, and it's questionable you could really call it soul at all actually. Don Austin was born Donald Austin and usually recorded as Donel Austin. His first two 45s were released in 1959 on the Mida label and could be categorised as rock-a-billy. In the 70s and 80s he had, after quite a hiatus, a steady trickle of 45s released, all of which I think fall into the country bag. He did, however, have a couple of 45s released on the ALON label in 1962. This was a New Orleans label (it of course spells NOLA backwards), and the writing credit on both sides of this 45 is N.Neville i.e. Naomi Neville, in fact the one and only Allan Toussaint. How Don(el) ended up on a New Orleans label (his first label - Mida - was based in Miami) I have no idea about, nor why he appeared subsequently to have no records released between 1963 and 1974.

The song races along at quite a clip, the jaunty horn fills are wonderful; the female backing singers brief refrains are placed just about right in the mix; you have to think it is Allan Toussaint himself on piano;  and, although Don's vocals are undeniably rooted in country and rock-a-billy, the whole thing does have an early New Orleans feel I think.      

Prepare for that thing to happen!

Don Austin - The Thrill Of Yesterday  1962