A couple of nights prior to performing this finger workout on my keyboard, I had a craving for some vinyl with a male vocalist. I wasn't in the mood for Joe Cocker, Jim Reeves, or Frank Sinatra. I wanted something frothy, and free from deep thought. I just wanted to be swept away by blissful songs. I finally reached for the only voice that could satisfy me. That voice was Ron Dante. I know what you're thinking. Who the hell is Ron Dante? Here's a hint: You know him. Do the names Betty, Veronica, Reggie, Jughead, and Archie sound familiar? Dante sang a song that we all love. It's that sweet confection called "Sugar, Sugar." (Hey, admit it, I know you love it!) Now that I've connected some very old dots in your brain, let me tell you a little more about Dante's history, his vocal talent, and a talented band of studio musicians who created the song, and a great sounding record called Everything's Archie (Calendar KES-103).
Ron Dante was born in 1945, in a land far from my California birthplace called Staten Island. His real name is Carmine John Granito. In the mid-sixties he was a cog in one of New York's most prominent music factories, Aldon Music. Does the name Don Kirschner sound familiar? Kirschner and his partner, Al Nevins, the guitarist from The Three Suns, owned Aldon Music. Dante joined Aldon Music when he was a teenager, and his career is similar to that of his old friend and fellow Aldon employee, Tony Orlando. They both sang demos for Aldon's famous songwriters, which included Neil Sedaka, Neil Diamond, Gerry Goffin and his wife Carole King, and Jeff Barry and his wife Eli Greenwich. Although Dante wrote a smattering of forgettable songs (so did Orlando), it was his singing that made him an asset to the company. Dante is also a good guitarist, although you won't hear his guitar on his recordings. Prior to becoming the lead singer of Archies, a group that, like The Partridge Family, never existed in real life, he was part of another fictitious band, The Detergents. They had one hit, a 1965 parody record called "Leader of the Laundromat." His biggest success, however, was producing Barry Manilow's first nine albums. He was also Pat Benatar's first producer. Dante was also the voice, or, to be more specific, all of the the voices, for yet another fictitious band, The Cufflinks. Maybe you remember the happy song "Tracy"? Trust me, you will when you hear it.
I currently own three albums with Dante's lead vocals. Two of them are by The Archies, and the other one is by The Cufflinks, and my favorite is The Archies second album, Everything's Archie (Calendar KES-103). Dante's insanely fine tenor voice has the unique quality of bypassing your rational mind, and going straight for your musical pleasure button.
There are, in my opinion, four great cuts on Everything's Archie. Side one cut four is a standout called "Melody Hill," by the songwriting team of Mark Barkan and Ritchie Adams. The song opens with an awesome sounding fuzz-tone guitar played by the incredibly talented Hugh McCraken (1942-2013). McCracken's lead guitar is spotlighted on the left soundstage. There's also a rhythm guitar, played by rock and roll pioneer Dave Appel (1922-2014), that is almost buried inside the right side of the stage. The best word I can come up with to describe the song's guitar sound is "groovy," and, man, everything about this cut is groovy! The groovy electric guitars quickly meet up with a group of female singers at seven seconds. At thirteen seconds we are introduced to the double-tracked voice of that grooviest of groovy cats, the one and only Mr. Dante. The song's bridge arrives at one minute and seven seconds, and it lasts for fourteen seconds. Following the bridge is a twelve second fuzz guitar solo that is guaranteed to blow your audiophile mind. (I got so excited when I played McCracken's solo through my Audio Research driven Legacy speakers that I needed to change my shirt.) The groovy electric guitars, Dante's stunning lead vocals, Gary Chester's solid drumming, and those awesome female backup singers, is, and dare I use the words again, a mind-blowing sound. Heed my warning, this music is habit-forming!
Side one cut four is another Barkan-Adams creation called "Kissin'." This song sounds like it was meant for a mouthwash or a lipstick commercial, and knowing Dante's history with radio and TV jingles, it's quite possible that the song was intended for one of those cutesy, sexy, TV commercials of the late sixties. However, whether the song was repurposed for The Archies, or not, it sounds so happy that I can't stop myself from embracing it. It opens with Dante singing "ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-kisin'" on the right side. His rhythm keeper, panned to the left, is, again, the great drummer Gary Chester. Once the main verse of "Kissin' is the thing to do when you're feeling sad and blue" is delivered by Dante, you'll know why you came here. You came to have a good time, whether it's hearing the song at the beach, in your car, or through your high end audio system. One big perk for me is the bongos, and these bongos are the grooviest! I wonder if Chester overdubbed bongos, or if another expert percussionist was hired to play them. Some questions will just have to remain unanswered.
Side two opens with the greatest feel-good sing-along song ever created, the Jeff Barry-Andy Kim penned "Sugar, Sugar." The abundance of ingredients that make this Barry-produced masterpiece work are delivered so rapidly that it's hard for me to keep track of them. The song opens with Andy Kim's acoustic guitar. Everybody knows his iconic strumming, which he did with a matchbook. Other ingredients include Dante's unsurpassable lead vocals, hand claps, the call and response between Dante and backup singer Toni Wine, Wine singing with soulful swagger "I'm gonna make your life so sweet," and the insanely fine sounding texture of a Fender Rhodes piano combined with a marimba. And, of course, the innocent, yet suggestive, lyrics. There's also the incredibly funky bass line that absolutely leaps off the record, delivered by bassist Joe Mack (1923-1977). I was so taken by Mack's bass playing that I had to learn more about him. The Czech-born Mack also played the bass for Simon & Garfunkel and Tom Rush. He was bassist on the well-known first album by The Left Bank. He also played the bass on Bob Dylan's "Like A Rolling Stone." The incredible keyboard work was provided by the ultra-talented Ron Frangipane (1944-2020). The incomparable hand claps were provided by Toni Wine, Jeff Barry, and the future king of novelty records, Ray Stevens.
How this 2:49 second creation forces the body to produce serotonin should be clinically studied. However, the magic of "Sugar, Sugar" didn't exactly spring out of the air. According to Toni Wine, it was an easy session, but Dante and the song's co-writer, Andy Kim, tell a different story. According to them, the session got off to a rough start. Most of The Archies songs were quickly committed to tape, but on this song it took the musicians nearly an hour just getting the mood right. As Kim wasn't hearing the song that he heard in his head, out of frustration he played his homemade cassette demo to the musicians. What Kim had recorded by himself was the sound he wanted. He even wanted his guitar to sound the way it did on his portable cassette machine. That's the reason for the matchbook, which, according to Dante, involved several matchbooks.
Side two cut three is the sublime "Bicycles, Roller Skates, and You." Composed by the Barkan-Adams team, this cut falls under the same lazy summer day vibe as The Rascals' "Groovin'," and Keith's "98.6." It's a wonderfully relaxing tune, offering sweet sounding electric guitars, a superb lead vocal by Dante, and a sweet sounding chorus. The song opens with four descending power chords by two guitarists, with one on the right, and the other a little softer on the left. Within two seconds, we hear a single-tracked reverb-free Dante. His vivid tube mic and tube mic preamp-amplified voice is as right-there sounding as any audiophile could ever ask for. The only reverb is on the backup vocals. Chorus wise, Tony Wine sounds delicious, but I also hear another female voice, and a male voice as well. In addition to the two electric guitars, there is an acoustic guitar. The sound and the music are so relaxed and free flowing that I find myself lost within its magic. Regarding the sound, the words that are printed in my brain are: They sure don't make ‘em like this anymore! The song's message is self-evident by its title and lyrics. I wish every weekend was as sublime as this song.
My research on this album brought me an appreciation for the incredibly talented singer-songwriter Toni Wine. Juilliard-educated Wine began her work as a songwriter at Aldon Music when she was fourteen. Among her achievements is co-writing the soft-rock classic "A Groovy Kind of Love" with fellow teenage songwriter Carol Bayer. She also co-wrote Tony Orando's classic "Candida," on which she also sang background vocals. She was also one of the two ladies who sang those immortal words "twice on the pipe" on Orlando's "Knock Three Times." She was even one of the meowing cats in the unforgettable Meow Mix commercial.
Learning about the New York, based studio musicians who created the music for The Archies brought me an appreciation for guitarist Hugh McCracken. McCracken was the lead guitarist on Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl." And little did I know that it was McCracken who played the lead guitar on Steely Dan's "Hey Nineteen" and "Time Out Of Mind," both from Gaucho, an album that I thought I knew pretty well.
Much of the album's magic is the result of Jeff Barry's expert production. I'm a huge fan of Barry's work. Barry's energetic production, often filled with the sound of clapping hands, include The Monkees, Neil Diamond's early work, Andy Kim, and the entire output of The Archies. Without Barry we wouldn't have Neil Diamond's "Cherry, Cherry," "Solitary Man," and "Thank the Lord for the Night Time." We also wouldn't have Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl," "Sugar, Sugar," Andy Kim's "How'd We Ever Get This Way," and those wonderful Diamond-penned gems by The Monkees, "I'm A Believer," and "It's A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You." Barry, with his wife Ellie Greenwich, (1940-2009) wrote countless songs that are part of our DNA. They also provided Phil Spector with "Da Doo Ron Ron," "Then He Kissed Me," and "Be My Baby." I used to wonder why Andy Kim's album, Baby, I Love You (Steed ST 37004), sounded so much like a Phil Spector production. Now that I understand the Barry-Spector connection, I hear Kim's album with new appreciation.
If you want to write off the music on this album as little more than the late sixties bubblegum, that's in the same class with the Nineteen Ten Fruitgum Company and The Lemon Pipers, that's your prerogative. I would urge skeptics to listen to Everything's Archie on a good audio system, hopefully one with tubes, as it sounds nothing like the above-mentioned teenage bands, which I also enjoy, albeit in small doses. Although they too had something musical to say, their talent can't be compared to the top-tier studio musicians found on Everything's Archie. Also, you can't compare the vocal talent of teenage one-hit-wonder bands to that of pros like Ron Dante and Toni Wine.
Lastly, I want to address the sound on this record, because it's an important part of why I enjoy it. The sound on this album, like the music, ranges from mediocre to excellent. As expected, some of the cuts were cranked out quickly for The Archies TV show, while others were engineered for the people who bought records. In this respect, The Archies can be compared to their TV predecessors, The Monkees. (Kirschner found working with The Archies was much easier than working with The Monkees, because he never received flak from the actors!) The recording engineer responsible for the sound of The Archies was RCA staff engineer Mike Moran. He recorded the music at RCA's Studio 1 in New York. The best sounding cut is "Melody Hill," with its superb stereophonic imagery, awesome sounding fuzz guitar, and Dante's vividly present vocals. I love how Moran raised McCracken's level during the solo, as it made the guitar sound like it was right here in my listening room.
"Kissin'" and "Bicycles, Roller Skates, and You" are sonically not far behind "Melody Hill." What I love about the sound on these songs is something that I love about many sixties rock albums: the saturation of the musical colors. Many audiophiles in our modern day are so concerned with quietness, AKA "black backgrounds," and making sure that their speakers disappear, that they miss the point of reproducing musical events. Regarding the use of reverb, Moran practices what I was taught in recording school: Reverb is to be used sparingly.
Sonically, "Sugar, Sugar" is big, punchy, and wide. However, as is so often the case, the album's biggest hit has a radio-friendly tweak in the midrange. Although Frangipine's Fender Rhodes sounds rich and large, as does Mack's electric bass, there's an unavoidable bump and a bit of dryness in the upper midrange. I wish it weren't so, but it still has that wonderful crank-it-up magic that just keeps me satisfied.
I really can't say much more about this record. I think I've made it pretty clear that I enjoy the hell out of it. I also can't get enough of Ron Dante's great voice, which means only one thing: I need more records!
