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Last Friday, Legacy Recordings unveiled a special treat for fans of The New Christy Minstrels, the bestselling, Grammy-winning large folk ensemble. The sparkling, new digital edition of 1962’s In Person (Apple / Amazon) expands the Christies’ second album with seven bonus tracks including previously unreleased performances from the legendary Troubadour stage.  As no physical release is planned for the expansion of In Person, some listeners and longtime fans may fear that they’re missing out on crucial context. Team TSD has you covered!  Folk historian/reissue producer/curator Tom Pickles has generously shared his previously unpublished liner notes with us – and they reveal the full story behind this beloved album and its new expanded edition.  Andy Williams and Mitch Miller are just a couple of the familiar names you’ll encounter in this fascinating tale.  Thank you, Tom! And now…In Person!

© Tom Pickles, Reissue Producer

Released originally in December 1962, “In Person” was the second album by the New Christy Minstrels following their successful (Grammy-winning) debut album, “Presenting the New Christy Minstrels”.  In a way, however, “In Person” was the real debut album because it featured the ensemble that fans soon came to know and love as regulars on The Andy Williams Show, on the Hootenanny series, on prestigious television specials and, of course, on the concert trail.

“In Person” stands as a chronicle of a pivotal moment in the group’s history — the time when their innovative sounds and stunning roster of talent became a show business sensation.  Yet, ironically, it was also the time when the management of the group revealed officially to the members that they were all just hired guns…readily replaceable employees in a corporate enterprise.  That revelation dashed some hopes and triggered an anger and distrust that eventually undermined the stability of the creative dynamics within the group that had driven their early success.

In the short term, however, the excitement of their success and the realization that they were part of something special won out, and the performances on this album bubble with enthusiasm and spirited fun.  If the members weren’t getting the financial rewards they had expected at the outset, they sensed the exposure they would get might still lead to something bigger than they had experienced individually before.

The story of how the New Christy Minstrels transitioned from a promising recording act to a sensational concert attraction at Doug Weston’s Troubadour in West Hollywood is a fascinating saga of the music business in the early Sixties.  Once you know more about the back story, listening to the album takes on an added richness, and the bonus tracks included in this “expanded” edition bring even more insights.

The Beginnings

The New Christy Minstrels were the brainchild of singer/songwriter Randy Sparks.   Randy began his professional career in the Bay Area in the mid-Fifties, and became a frequent attraction at the top clubs, notably the Purple Onion.  Randy had a natural, sometimes edgy wit on stage – the man knew how to read an audience — and a wonderful way with a ballad.  He also had an aggressive determination to succeed in a tough, competitive business…one way or another.

By 1961, he had three albums to his credit – two solo efforts and one with his trio, the Randy Sparks Three.  His Trio had a steady line up of bookings across the country, but he wanted to raise the bar. That fall, he purposefully sat down and crafted plans for something bigger.  “I’d been looking for a way to combine two art forms I liked: The Kingston Trio and the Norman Luboff Choir,” he recalls. “I had been reading about Stephen Foster and came across a reference to Christy’s Minstrels. They were the first to bring Foster’s songs to the stage in New York City…My invention would be called the New Christy Minstrels.”  He thought a distinctive, new choral sound might attract more attention to his music, just as Foster had leveraged the popularity of the original Christy Minstrels for his songs.

Randy envisioned an ensemble made up of smaller groups and soloists, preserving the flavor of personality “step outs” inherent in the original Minstrel acts.  He wanted a powerful, truly robust vocal sound, so his initial plans called for as many as fourteen performers.  It would be solely a recording project to showcase his own material (and generate royalty income).  This plan would make recruiting talent easier because most performers would welcome the opportunity for session work as secondary income.

The first recruits for the project were the other two members of the Randy Sparks Three – his wife (soon to be ex-) Jackie Miller, a talented alto who played banjo, and baritone/ arranger/ musician Nick Woods, who was a superb singer with a brilliant musical mind who eventually became one of the key creative forces in the New Christy Minstrels. At the outset, Randy had some reservations about involving Nick in the new project.  He explained, “Nick was very strong willed, and so was I.  We didn’t have anything close to harmony in our business or music relationship.  I didn’t have the time it would take to get politely around all his objections and opinions… (When he heard Jackie and me working on material for the new group idea), first he wanted to know what we were doing, then demanded to be a part of it.  I gave him my entire laundry list of objections, and only after he promised he could live within the narrow confines of my regulations, did I relent.  But Nick was wonderful in every way.  He improved most of the stuff I came up with, and he also had good ideas of his own.  He, as it turned out, was the best addition I likely ever made to my group idea…and the best voice ever connected with the New Christy Minstrels”.

Next was Dolan Ellis, a folksinger from Arizona (originally from Kansas) who occasionally appeared on the Los Angeles folk circuit.  He was a second tenor with a warm sound remarkably reminiscent of Cisco Houston, so Randy felt he would be a solid addition to the team.  Dolan adds this perspective: “When I was first getting started as a performer, I stumbled onto Randy’s first solo album and thought it was great. He became sort of a distant and untouchable hero to me because he was doing what I was aspiring to do.” Their paths finally crossed in Denver and Dolan was flattered to learn that Randy knew of his work and thought highly of it.  They would see each other on the road now and then in the months that followed.  Dolan continues, “Then, one day I received a letter from Randy, telling me of his new project, and he wanted to know if I might be interested in being part of it.  He said that it would only be a recording group, so it would not interfere with my own career, which was progressing quite well. I chose to take Randy’s offer because it sounded like a fresh idea.”

To round out the original roster, Randy recruited another trio – The Inn Group (Jerry Yester, Karol Dugan and John Forsha) – singer/songwriter Terry Wadsworth and singer/banjo player, Billy Cudmore.

Jackie brought the last player into the lineup – singer/songwriter Art Podell.  Art was a New York transplant who had started his career in Greenwich Village as part of the highly regarded folk duo “Art and Paul,” with close friend, Paul Potash.  He and Paul relocated to California in mid-1961 but broke up soon afterwards because Paul was interested in pursuing an acting career.  Art was an exceptional guitarist and talented writer and arranger who had an intimate vocal sound and an engaging, sophisticated sense of humor.  Art remembers:  “Jackie called and invited me to join a supergroup that Randy was putting together for just one album…The project was never supposed to go beyond the first recording, but it had the potential to create a wider market for each of us as individual folksingers.”  Randy had respect for Art’s musicianship, but they never developed much of a personal friendship.  On a professional level, they were often at odds about the choice of material.  As a New York folkie, Art was more interested in folk music that carried deeper, socially relevant meaning, while Randy preferred, in his own words, “happy songs that steer clear of left-wing musical disappointment”.

With Art joining the project, the roster was complete.  They rehearsed whenever they could amidst the own busy schedules throughout the winter of 1962.  By April, Randy thought they were ready to approach a record label.   Without an appointment, Randy walked into the Columbia Records’ offices in Hollywood and picked one of producers on the directory — Jim Harbert. Randy was uneasy asking to see the head of A&R – Irving Townsend – because his concept was so unusual he thought it might spook him.  He felt the meeting with Harbert was a prudent first step. “If he laughed at me, what’s the harm?”  As it turned out, Jim already knew of Randy’s career and was very willing to speak with him.  Randy remembered, “We met and I told him of my folk group, the New Christy Minstrels.  He winced at the name but liked the idea and agreed to give us a chance.  Then, everything went like clockwork.’” Jim introduced Randy to Irving Townsend, who was immediately intrigued with the idea. He first had the group record a demo.  After hearing it, he authorized the first recording sessions for an album.

The Shake-Up

Upon hearing the final mixes, Townsend knew they were onto something.  However, internal dialogues at Columbia with a few players in the all-powerful sales force indicated skepticism that “this folk group” – a studio act, no less – would be able to deliver sales reliably.  The sales force was sensitive to the reality that they were behind the curve in keeping up with the trends in the lucrative singles market because Mitch Miller (the overall head of A&R in New York) dismissed rock as a passing fad and had been reluctant to sign such artists.  To them a “folk chorus” studio act sounded all too much like Mitch Miller and the Sing-Along Gang and was completely out of sync with the new sounds in the Top 40.

Townsend still believed the group’s sound was fresh enough to have “hit” sales potential, but he realized they would have to become a legit “live” act – name and faces – that could tour and promote their releases.  He told Randy in blunt terms that “If you don’t turn the group into a live act, Columbia will not release the album.”  He went on to tell Randy he also would have to hire personal managers to handle the group’s career.  According to Randy, “Irv Townsend was a gentleman, and I got on with him well enough, but he didn’t trust my strength as a performer/businessperson; hence the need (in his mind) for a management team.  The name of the game is control, and I was judged to be a loose cannon.”

Townsend gave Randy a short list of management teams, one of which was Greif-Garris Management.  George Greif and Sid Garris knew nothing about folk music; their roots were in the big band era, but they claimed to have the right contacts in the business.  Townsend also referred to Sid and George as “hoodlums in suits” – tough guys (notably George);  but that tough character was what “got the job done”.  Such personalities were typical in the business at the time…and probably still are to this day.  That’s show biz.

Randy understood the need to turn his group into a live act, but he did not believe he needed personal managers; even so, feeling the pressure from Townsend, he agreed to meet with Sid and George.  At the meeting, he gave them what he thought was an impossible assignment – “come back in 24 hours and show me what you can do”.  They did just that.  Literally within 24 hours, they brought back a contract for the group to appear with Andy Williams at the prestigious Greek Theater in September, and an opportunity to audition for The Andy Williams Show as regulars in its debut season – a stunning accomplishment for an unknown group with a hefty payroll.  There was a prerequisite, though.  The group would also have to serve as the show’s choral ensemble backing Andy and his guest stars, so all the players had to be able to read music – capable of learning a wide range of musical arrangements in a few days week after week.  That seemed relatively minor to Randy.  What Sid and George had produced blew him away. “No one had started off at such a pace!” As a result, he signed with Greif-Garris Management. What Randy did not know at the time was that it was actually Irving Townsend – working behind the scenes – who arranged for the audition with Andy Williams (another Columbia Records artist); he gave the credit to Greif-Garris so Randy would sign with them.  In other words, Randy had yet to learn how Greif-Garris really operated.

Randy hoped the new development would be exciting news for his team. It didn’t quite turn out that way; in fact, it triggered a major shake-up, starting with Jerry Yester’s trio, the Inn Group.  Jerry remembered:  “The Inn Group was in Oklahoma City when Randy called and said the Andy Williams Show was happening. We were very idealistic and believed in ourselves, plus we had contractual commitments to the clubs we were playing on our first road trip ever. We said, ‘We’re committed to these gigs, you’d better replace us.’ …As it turned out the Inn Group broke up about two months later.”  Both Billy Cudmore and Terry Wadsworth eventually backed away, too – both skeptical of the fiscal reality of a touring group that large, but also unsure they would be able to read music well enough to meet the show’s weekly demands.  Within a couple of weeks, half the group was gone.

Randy ended up auditioning for Andy Williams with only five performers – himself, Jackie, Nick, Dolan and Art.  He told Andy that the others were “so much in demand that they were out on the road”.  Andy had heard the tapes from the recording sessions and loved the group’s sound.  He said he had a good enough imagination to picture what the full ensemble would look like, so he signed them for the upcoming fall season.

Within a few days, the truth about the open slots  was revealed, so the pressure was on to find replacements. “This is when we advertised for the very best performers money and a promise of good bookings could buy,” Randy remembers. With the Andy Williams contract as bait, there was no shortage of interested applicants.  Art jumped into the search as well.  He offers his perspective: “There was never any question that this was Randy’s deal and he was in the cockpit. Of course. He was the guy who invented the group and wrote all the songs.  But I felt included in a ‘steering committee’ of sorts…and I acted accordingly. I was often invited into the cockpit to help define an arrangement…a sound.   So, without a clear understanding of the business arrangements for the new game plan, I was feeling like I was part of the ‘team’. Sometime after (half of the original group) left , I was told that we were the ‘important’ ones to the music and that we’d be treated differently.” Unfortunately, in the weeks ahead, Art and the others did not recognize that Randy’s thinking was moving in quite a different direction.

Art was a friend of Barry McGuire at the time and told him about the opportunity, calling it a chance to “make some money and have some fun”.  That sounded right up McGuire’s alley, so he and Barry Kane (then his partner in the folk duo, Barry and Barry) auditioned and were the first hired.  Randy loved McGuire’s salt-of-the-earth style, but was less taken with Kane, who had a healthy ego.  Nonetheless, his talent was evident — Kane had a knack for broad comedy and a fiery flair for ethnic material that could add a new dimension to the act.  Hiring both was a quick decision.

Because the group was hired also to serve as the Williams Show’s choral ensemble, Andy asked the show’s choral director, George Wyle, to monitor the auditions periodically to be sure the emerging roster would have the range and quality of voices needed.  Wyle was a highly regarded choral director, so his influence in the final choice of talent was a wonderful development for Randy, although he didn’t fully recognize it at the time. No subsequent generation of the New Christy Minstrels was given such a rich learning experience as working with George Wyle, and the recordings they made after working with him for several months remain the best of their career.

The next hire was Peggy Connelly, a professional pop/jazz singer – quite glamorous — with solid professional credentials.  She had considerable network TV experience, having once been a regular on The Ernie Kovacs Show (another NBC show, which might have been the link to her audition), and had recorded a fine jazz vocal album for the prestigious Bethlehem label.  She had dated Frank Sinatra for a few years in the mid-Fifties, but had since married a promising young comedian (Dick Martin of Rowan and Martin) and had put her career on hold.  By 1962, the marriage was floundering badly, and Peggy was looking for an opportunity to get back in the business.  A little time in front of the camera on The Andy Williams Show seemed like just the steppingstone she needed. Such visibility was her primary motivation, far more so than any interest in the group per se.

The next recruit was Clarence Treat – a former all-conference high hurdle record holder, then a high school physical education teacher.  More relevant, he was also a singer with the American Folk Ballet, then Called Ballet America, in Pasadena.  Clarence was a fine tenor with a brilliant sound and a distinctive timbre.  Originally from Arkansas, he also had a strong interest in country and bluegrass music.  Nick Woods recognized that Clarence’s voice could bring a nice bite to the high end.  Clarence was also a natural comedian and added several pieces of material to the act that smacked of Grand Ole Opry cornpone humor.  Eventually, Clarence did indeed become a crucial element in the New Christy Minstrels sound.

The last recruit was Larry Ramos, a nineteen-year old folk singer born in Hawaii.  Larry had been a precocious, prize-winning ukulele player as a child in Hawaii, and had been performing steadily since then.  Art Podell spotted Larry performing as a solo act a coffeehouse called the Satyr in South Bay.  He was also a member of the New Easy Riders at the time but supplemented his income performing as a solo on occasion. Randy remembers, “Larry auditioned and I stated my willingness to accept him; but he was a hold-out from the start.  He wasn’t sure about this opportunity as a career move.  He still hadn’t been formally hired when I met Jim (Roger) McGuinn.”  At the time, McGuinn had recently ended his work as back up musician for the Chad Mitchell Trio and had relocated to Los Angeles. As luck would have it, McGuinn was rooming with Art Podell in Laurel Canyon at the time.  He had a solid reputation for being a fine musician with a thorough knowledge of folk music, and Randy wanted to meet him. Art told Jim/Roger about a possible opportunity.  They met and Randy made an offer, which McGuinn accepted. The next day, NBC had a photo session for TV Guide’s “Fall Preview” issue, which captured McGuinn’s moment with the New Christy Minstrels, but only a day or two later McGuinn had a change of heart.  He had received an offer from Bobby Darin to help develop a new folk segment in his Vegas concert act.  The McGuinn/Darin dialogue had actually started before the Christy opportunity arose, and Sparks had approached Darin to get clearance to extend an offer to McGuinn (which, per Randy, he gave).  However, it appears Darin had second thoughts and came through with a tangible offer.  Even in that short window of time, McGuinn was already sensing the risk of being lost in the crowd on stage, so Darin’s offer made it an easy decision to back out of the project.  With personnel hassles emerging as a likely ongoing problem, Sparks quickly reached out to Larry Ramos and convinced him to accept the offer, so the group roster was locked down…for a while anyway.

The New Plan

As the search for the replacement players was wrapping up, Randy knew he needed a venue to break in an act.  “I told Sid and George we needed a stage.  They asked me what places I might consider for this, and I said that there were only two venues with stages large enough to accommodate so many performers: the Ice House and the Troubadour.  I also told them I had called both owners, offering to work each room for NOTHING.  Both had turned me down.  ‘Which of the two rooms would you prefer?’ George asked me.  I told him I’d rather work the Troubadour, and that’s when he asked me to introduce him to Doug Weston, the owner.  We went there in the Greif-Garris limo.  As I was about to walk into Doug’s office with the two of them, George told me to stay outside, which, I must say, annoyed me much.  I heard loud voices and what sounded like scuffling, but the picture was anything but clear in my mind.  I was taken by surprise when an ashen-faced Doug Weston emerged from the room to ask me, ‘What have you done to me, Randy?’  I didn’t know what he was talking about, but my guess was alarming.  This was a low point in my life… Months later, an inebriated George Greif boasted of having put a gun to Weston’s throat to induce his signing the contract for our work at the Troubadour.”  The incident was confirmed 30 years later when Weston himself retold the story to Barry McGuire while remembering the good old days.

However, Randy’s “low point” wasn’t low enough to prevent him from upgrading the status of George Greif and Sid Garris from personal managers to full partners with an equity stake in the organization; thus, preempting any hopes the charter members may have had in gaining a share of the business. Irving Townsend had required only that Randy have personal managers; he never expected Randy to make Greif-Garris full partners. Why would Randy want to go into partnership with men that Townsend had warned him were “hoodlums in suits”?  Randy offered this explanation:  “I was a farm boy WASP from Kansas, at least by comparison. I felt that I had enough smarts to serve as an effective manager for my own business; but in those days, there was no tolerance for do-it-yourselfers… I was an upstart, and Irving was right to assume that nobody of any consequence would deal with me… I had real (credibility) problems in dealing with the people in charge of where I was wanting to go.  I’m certain there was a small voice which said to me, ‘These (guys) are the perfect answer.’  There was another advantage in my having made (them) my partners.  In those times, managers only cared about acts until the job became difficult, and acts came and went almost like clockwork.  I was giving them an incentive to not only fight harder (supposedly on my behalf) but also stay the course. (Technically), Sid and George were personal managers – not business [financial] managers.  A personal manager advises; good ones also hustle and lean on agents, i.e., the folks who do the actual booking.  They got into the business management field ONLY because we formed a corporation, and they were overseeing the income and expenditures… That’s where my naive Kansas roots can be seen most visibly.  I trusted (them too much).  Still, in a way, it worked.  I’m still thinking that my seemingly spur of the moment decision to make Greif-Garris my partners could be the most important reason the act didn’t have a management change in forty years.”  Regardless of the reasoning, it was a decision that forever changed the course of the career of the New Christy Minstrels.  However, while the group was still being re-built and rehearsed, Randy chose to keep his thinking about the new organization under wraps.

The Troubadour Debut

Once the roster was complete, the group’s attention then was focused on developing the act for the Troubadour debut in mid-July 1962.  What an exciting time!  They were getting the full support of Andy’s director Bob Sheerer and his production team and the show was starting to bloom. On stage, the New Christy Minstrels were an impressive spectacle — a panorama of distinctly different musical personalities.  Each of the members was a highly talented performer who gave his or her all to outdo the others in winning applause. Andy knew the competition was productive and egged it on with a taunt or dare during the shows.  They were all obviously having fun, which proved contagious with the audience.  Randy explains:  “This was a very productive period.  We all competed for new sounds and arranging ideas and, although my work was important, there were other stars of the backstage efforts:  Art Podell and Nick Woods.  (But) the competition on stage was what really made the show ‘happen.’ By starting the show myself, I challenged the next soloist to do better.  This was Dolan.  Then came Jackie and Larry, or Peggy and Nick, and finally we worked our way up to Barry Kane who was so charged up that he drove us crazy.  I like harmony and good sounds and creative lyrics and all that, but it’s raw egotistical showoff-man-ship that pays the bills and sells the good harmony.”

In mid-July 1962, the group made their debut at the Troubadour, and they were a smash, garnering rave reviews in the show biz trades. On July 13th, Daily Variety published a glowing review of the new act:  “Ten folk singers on stage at once sounds downright forbidding, but, fortunately, every member of the New Christy Minstrels has sufficient talent to work alone — and, as a collection, they’re great.  They could easily become the next big thing in show business.”  Week after week, there were long lines queued up around the block. The success was so great that the engagement was extended through August.  The club had been struggling in the preceding months, so George’s rough negotiating tactics led to a happy ending for Doug Weston.  Randy remembers, “Doug came to my dressing room the first Saturday night and gave me his personal check for $100 as a bonus.  He told me I had ‘saved’ his business.  I went all the way from asshole to savior in just a matter of days!”

Some of the more memorable moments in the Troubadour appearance were not scripted.  Always seeing her involvement in the group as merely a stepping stone, Peggy began finding ways to draw attention to herself during the concerts. Often, she would move toward the front of the ensemble so more eyes would focus on her.  One evening before the show, Dolan spoke to her and asked her please to cut it out.  She scowled and turned away.  Later, when the group was taking the stage, Peggy walked directly to the back and stood on a riser, her arms folded in a steamy pout.  Dolan chuckled and said to her, “Aw, come on down”.  She did, then went straight after him, pummeled him, tried to push him off the stage and sank her long fingernails into him, all the while screaming, “Fuck you! Fuck  you!”  Dolan tried to make light of it for the audience and was finding it hard not to laugh.  The audience was going wild, not sure what caused the ruckus, but thought it was hysterically funny.  Weston quickly told the man running the boards to cut the stage lighting in hopes of calming Peggy down.  Once the stage was dark, Dolan pulled away and made a hasty retreat to a safer spot.  When the lights came on a minute later, Peggy – still fuming — didn’t see where Dolan had gone, so she went after Art, who still didn’t know what the hell was going on.  Eventually, the situation calmed down, and the show got back on track, if awkwardly. As soon as the show ended, Peggy stormed off to her dressing room and slammed the door.  Would “diva” be too harsh a word?

Right about the time the group opened at the Troubadour, the Columbia sales force held their national convention in Florida.  Jim Harbert was there to give a presentation of what was in the pipeline of new artist releases.  When he presented clips from the first Christy album and spoke of the fresh new sound, the sales force wasn’t buying it.  He got a very chilly reaction and was quite disappointed.  In describing the group sound as “choral”, Jim made the sales force think of Mitch Miller’s Sing-Along Gang which was NOT the right word to motivate them to push the group’s releases at retail. After Jim’s presentation, Mitch himself gave him a bit of a pep talk and told him, “Just get a hit single and they’ll come around”.  A few months later, there still had been no hit single, so Jim called a meeting with the group and gave them a challenge to come up with songs that might have the catchy hook needed to become a hit single. “Green, Green” came out of that, soon followed by “Saturday Night”.  After that respectable one-two punch on the singles charts, the sales force had more faith…but not before.

Some of Columbia’s staff attended the debut, including sales manager Gene Block, a key voice in the West Coast sales division.  Gene shared this surprised reaction in a newsletter to his peers, perhaps written in an effort to give Harbert some needed reinforcement (which Jim greatly appreciated):  “I walked into the Troubadour expecting to hear folk music done in a novel way by ten people – that much I knew.  I also knew it would be well-done because I had heard (their first) album.  But there ceased what I knew and began what I discovered.   This is really a folk minstrel show.  There is nothing like it in America today…  The group consists of eight fellows (including leader Randy Sparks) and two girls.  They sing in a group, straight folk, humor, pathos, all of it for about 30 minutes.  The [set] ends.  Five-minute intermission.  Then two come out from the group and a duo entertain for about 10 or 15 minutes.  Then, a single comes out and entertains.  Same deal.  So on through the night.  Then another [segment] with the entire group.  [The concert is] a musical minstrel show where each person has to get up and do something by himself and convulse the audience.   It ran the gamut from ‘Big Bad Bruce,’ a take-off on ‘Big Bad John’ (Bruce is a hairdresser…ahem), to songs you sang when you were five years old.  Picture this in a [single] concert.  This group of ten could put on a show at the Hollywood Bowl or Carnegie Hall for 3 hours without an assist from one other act.”

“Big Bad Bruce” is a parody that Randy wrote back in 1961.  These days, it is clearly politically incorrect, but the original intent was a satirical skewer of Jimmy Dean’s #1 hit, which Randy explained in his set up to the song.  Years later, responding to a fansite question about the song, Randy shared this recollection:  “I realize this perhaps isn’t something I ought to be proud of, but I wrote ‘Big Bad Bruce’ in November of 1961, when ‘Big John’ by Jimmy Dean was at the top of the charts. This parody was all in good humor, and it became one of the (most) requested numbers in my solo act… In those days, of course, most of us were totally ignorant of what is or isn’t appropriate… I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable…but I quickly discovered that most gay men had no problem with laughing at the ditty. This was just a funny song.”  The song was among some trial recordings of the act made “live” at the Troubadour.  Originally, Randy had planned to include the song on the “In Person” album, but those plans were soon scrapped.  The reason had nothing to do with the song’s edgy content but everything to do with…Jimmy Dean.  Out of courtesy, Randy and Columbia set up a private meeting with Jimmy Dean so Randy could perform the song for him. Randy recalled, “He was offended that I had parodied his personal masterpiece, and I apologized to him.”  Afterwards, Randy and Columbia quickly agreed the song was not essential to the act or the album, so they cut it.  The career of the New Christy Minstrels was off and running and there was no need to put something in the act that might be a pointless distraction.

Ka-Boom!

A few days into the group’s exciting debut at the Troubadour, a meeting was called one night in an upstairs meeting room at the club.  At the meeting, Randy finally revealed the new ownership arrangements and briefly stated that he had made George Greif and Sid Garris full partners with a major equity stake in the “corporation”.  He then hastily turned the meeting over to (tough guy) George, who passed out contracts and asked for signatures to make the arrangements official.  The contracts made it clear that the members — all the members, with no preferential treatment for the four charter recruits who had stood by Randy during the rocky weeks of transition – were merely employees and readily replaceable.  The room exploded with anger and shouts of betrayal.  While there is no tangible evidence that Randy had made any explicit promises of equity positions, he well knew there were such expectations, certainly among the four charter players.   He offered this added perspective: “I was keenly aware of the difficulty Dave Guard experienced when he got into battles over artistic control of The Kingston Trio, something that was much discussed at the time… Nick Woods had a strong will and a unique perception of musical direction; ditto Art. Art wanted to take us into Sing-Out and Weavers territory, and Nick leaned towards blues and folk-rock, even though the latter was not yet an established category. I appreciated these elements, and saw the value therein, but didn’t want to commit heavily to either direction. I knew that we had the ability to shape how we were to be perceived, and I took these matters very seriously. It was my recurring nightmare that I’d reach a point where Nick or Art would be telling me how to run my group.”

Art remembers his reactions to Randy’s announcement: “Up until that night at the Troubadour, we had come on board with the natural understanding that, at the reckoning, we would be treated fairly.  When Sid and George and Randy offered us those contracts, my only thought was: ‘Wait a minute, WE should be the ones offering a contract to these guys to manage us, not the other way around.’ We hardly knew George and Sid.  They were two strangers from the Big Band world invading our ‘family’ and offering us this ‘deal’ with the veiled threat that if we didn’t like it, the door was down the stairs…I made the argument to the other members, but [in the days that followed] Sid and George and Randy cornered each of the members privately and picked them off one at a time.  I held out the longest. By the time they got to me, everyone else had signed.  …I guess Randy also knew that when the chips were down, I’d fold…It was agony.”  From this point on, Randy’s relationship with his group began to fray.  He had lost their trust.

Randy, Sid and George had planned the timing of their ambush with the contracts wisely.  The group’s success did continue to build, and the members were thrilled with their growing celebrity.  Just as Columbia salesman Gene Block had predicted, by the end of the year the New Christy Minstrels were appearing at Carnegie Hall.  But beneath the surface, the resentments festered and the hostilities toward Randy would bubble up.  Randy remembered, “At first, I didn’t see the raging conspiracy just beneath the surface pleasantries among the performers, but little by little it began to emerge.  I was the establishment and everybody else was my enemy.  When it finally hit me, I was devastated; I wanted to run away. Then suddenly, in that instant, I grew up.  All at once, it no longer mattered whether or not these people liked me.  …I found myself thinking this is a business…and it’s mine!  I’d listen to their complaints, and I’d reason with each of them the best I could, but I ran the train, and lying down on the tracks wasn’t a good idea.  I’d much rather be your friend, but since that seems difficult, I’ll be glad to serve as your leader, your director, your employer, your fellow-musician…whatever.  The fact is, we have work to do; let’s get it done.”

The Andy Williams Show and Beyond

Throughout the fall and into the winter, the group’ fame grew.  One enthusiastic critic called the group “a novel folk repertoire company” — a perfect summation.  Weeks of working with choral director George Wyle on The Andy Williams Show on a wide range of material enabled them to hone a tight, cohesive sound.  Clarence remembers:  “George definitely improved us. I think his strength was that he tweaked our individual sounds so that they would be more unified but not lose the essence of our own abilities.”  The success was thrilling for the members.  None of them had ever experienced anything like that before – including Randy himself.  In a year, he had taken his invention from exploratory rehearsals in his living room to Carnegie Hall. It was an amazing feat, and the mystique of “under the direction of Randy Sparks” gained stature and clout within the music business…but not within his group.

As long as the core nucleus of talent was intact, the New Christy Minstrels produced a wonderful recorded legacy and treasured concert memories.  The roster was large enough to withstand some early personnel changes, e.g., young mezzo-soprano Gayle Caldwell replaced Peggy in November 1962 and was a much better fit for the group.  More challenging, Dolan Ellis left in April 1963 and was replaced first by a young, inexperienced singer by the name of Doug Brookins, who auditioned for Randy over the phone (in sharp contrast to the scrutiny of Wyle in the early auditions). Doug (talented, but green) did not last long and was soon replaced by Gene Clark (in similar haste).  Early in 1964, Jackie, Gayle and Gene all quit and were replaced by Karen Gunderson, Ann White and Paul Potash; this was the first major shakeup since the Troubadour line up had been assembled. The group was still able to produce a solid vocal blend, if quite different, but the onstage energy and spontaneity in concerts took a major hit; it was getting stale.  In September, Randy sold his interests in the group, forced out by Sid and George because of financial squabbles, but his relationship with the members had soured so badly it had become more trouble than it was worth. By 1965 – a year into the British Invasion – pop-folk acts like the Brothers Four, the Kingston Trio and the New Christy Minstrels had lost their cache on the college campuses and pop charts, so the remaining members bailed out one by one throughout the year. They knew the glory days were over, and there were far more interesting sounds being produced by their former peers in the folk era, e.g., folk rock.  The group never sounded the same after that, and they never again garnered the same critical raves they had received during their spectacular engagement at the Troubadour.

Sid and George’s background in the Big Band Era shaped their approach to managing the New Christy Minstrels.  They built turnover into their business model and focused on hungry young performers eager for experience, cheaper hires that were better for the bottom line.  The Big Band thinking treated the positions in the group like hired players in an orchestra. When a “trombone player” quits, no problem…get a new “trombone player”.  There was no respect for the creative synergies of chemistry, vocal cohesion or vision.  Such considerations would undoubtedly have been more expensive, too disruptive to the cash flow and – worse — it might have led to annoying demands for an equity stake.  Years later, Clarence opined: “The thinking that the individuals in the group were not important was what led to the final (creative) demise of the Christies.  Essentially, the group deteriorated because the (owners) did not know how or didn’t care to maintain a morale or atmosphere which would keep the group together.”  Truer words…

The Songs

Randy Sparks was responsible for the vast majority of the group’s repertoire.  From the outset, his goal in creating the group was to create a richly textured choral sound that would generate interest in his writing and a revenue stream in royalties. The opening track on “In Person” – “Denver” – is a good example his of reliance of adaptations of traditional melodies in his years at the helm.  The melody comes from the familiar British folksong, “Rosin’ the Bow”.  Randy created new lyrics to give it a western flavor.  Occasionally, material from outside writers would be added to the repertoire, which usually came from the members (Art Podell’s “You Know My Name”) or people who were part of the extended family (George Wyle’s “Louisiana Lou”).

The phenomenal success of the group’s debut at the Troubadour made a “live” chronicle of the event an obvious choice for the second album.  On August 30^th and 31^st, near the end of the engagement, the group’s entire concert was recorded “live” on the Troubadour stage.  The performances were terrific, and the stage banter had moments of edgy, unscripted wit that were real and revealing.  However, upon hearing those recordings, Randy, Irving Townsend and Jim Harbert were not happy with the sound quality.  As the debut recordings by the ensemble that would be seen weekly on The Andy Williams Show, this album had to offer top quality sound.  So in Randy’s words, “we cheated” and recreated the act in Columbia’s Hollywood studio with invited friends and CBS executives as the audience (on September 18^th, 19^th and 20^th, 1962).  Even so, the recordings captured the spirit of the concert style and showcased the group’s sound to much better advantage. Some of the humorous banter in the “Bits and Pieces” segment was tightened up with sharper timing and delivery. The robust blend is well featured on the ensemble efforts, and individual members are spotlighted nicely.  Randy is a charismatic frontman and is well-showcased on “The Story of the Preacher and the Bear” and “Liza Lee”.  McGuire’s magnetic performance of “The Dying Convict” is a true highlight, and Nick’s solo of “You Know My Name” provides ample evidence of his powerful vocal talent.

For this reissue, we’ve added several bonus recordings from the studio sessions not included in the original album release: a satirical song called “Susan Jane” which lovingly mocks the corny lyrics of mid-1800’s songwriter Will Shakespeare Hayes, a beautiful alternate take of Randy’s solo of “Liza Lee” and, a terrific solo by Dolan Ellis called “Dance Me a Jig”.  Also included is the debut stereo mix of “Denver” without the invited audience, which was the version released as a single (in mono) early in 1963.

Most significant of all, we have unearthed three of the recordings made on August 31^st at the Troubadour.  As already noted, the sound quality is not as rich, but the added energy in the performances for the club audience is palpable.  Among these, the standout is Randy’s performance of “Big Bad Bruce,” the sendup of Jimmy Dean’s “Big Bad John”.  Apologies to anyone who finds the humor a bridge too far, but it is an interesting bit of Christy/Sparksian wit from a different time that we wanted to share.

All told, it’s a hell of an album, and the bonus tracks offer rich insights into the caliber of talent in the act and the background dynamics in assembling the original release.  Enjoy!

© Tom Pickles

 TRACK LISTING

Denver (Randy Sparks)

• Recorded September 18, 1962

The Preacher and the Bear (Randy Sparks)

• Featuring Randy Sparks
• Recorded September 18, 1962

Liza Lee (Randy Sparks)

• Featuring Randy Sparks
• Recorded September 18, 1962

The Dying Convict (Randy Sparks)

• Featuring Barry McGuire, Nick Woods, Clarence Treat and Peggy Connelly
• Recorded September 19, 1962

The Invalids (Arranged and New Material by Randy Sparks)

• featuring Barry Kane and Nick Woods
• Recorded September 18, 1962

Fire (Randy Sparks)

• Recorded September 20, 1962

Louisiana Lou (George Wyle and Bill Olofson)

• Recorded September 19, 1962

You Know My Name (Art Podell and Walter Schorr)

• Featuring Nick Woods
• Recorded September 20, 1962

Golden Bells (Randy Sparks)

• Featuring Randy Sparks and Clarence Treat
• Recorded September 18, 1962

Bits and Pieces – recorded September 20, 1962

• Intro; Historical Chatter on Capital Punishment (Art Podell) – featuring Art Podell
• Personal Account of Something Unique in Animal Husbandry (Jackie Miller and Larry Ramos) – featuring Jackie Miller and Larry Ramos
• Temperance and the Gutter Set (Clarence Treat) – featuring Clarence Treat
• Country and Western Music Has a Message (Parody by Nick Woods)– featuring Nick Woods
• Tip-Toe Through the Tulips (Al Dubin and Joe Burke)– Parody featuring Dolan Ellis

Saints’ Train (Randy Sparks, Nick Woods and Art Podell)

• This song became a mainstay in the Christy repertoire for years
• Recorded September 20, 1962

Bonus Tracks

Susan Jane (Adapted by Randy Sparks)

• Recorded September 20, 1962

Dance Me a Jig – studio version (Albert Wood)

• Featuring Dolan Ellis
• Recorded September 20, 1962

Liza Lee – alternate take 5 (Randy Sparks)

• Featuring Randy Sparks
• Recorded September 18, 1962

Big Bad Bruce (Randy Sparks)

• Featuring Randy Sparks
• Recorded live at the Troubadour, August 31, 1962)

Dance Me a Jig – alternate arrangement (P.D. intro and Albert Wood)

• Featuring Dolan Ellis
• Recorded live at the Troubadour, August 31, 1962)

Bits and Pieces (full segment with same titles, credits and performers)

• Recorded live at the Troubadour, August 31, 1962)

Denver – stereo debut single mix (Randy Sparks)

• Recorded September 18, 1962

 CREDITS:

• Photos taken on Troubadour stage courtesy of Mitzi Trumbo
• Thanks to Jeff James of Sony Music for his support in getting this release on the market.