In last week's PostScript concerning the use of the word "ain't" in music, one song not mentioned was The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore, a big hit for the Walker Brothers in 1966. Sadly, the number is being remembered this week following the passing of Scott Walker at the age of 76.
Scott was the key member of the American trio who weren't brothers at all, but for a couple of years were huge in Britain. This was quite an achievement considering their ballads were competing against dozens of English rock 'n roll groups who were having a blast in the "Swinging Sixties". The Walkers, who had another No.1 hit with Make It Easy On Yourself, had a similar but less soulful sound to the Righteous Brothers (who incidentally also weren't brothers).
Through no fault of its own, The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore will also always be associated with an infamous incident at the Blind Beggar pub in east London and a hangout of the notorious Kray Twins. This was the pub where, in March 1966, Ronnie Kray walked in and brazenly shot rival gang member George Cornell who was sitting at the bar. Cornell's last words when he saw Kray enter were "Look what the cat's brought in".
Seconds before the killing, the barmaid had put The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore on the pub's record player (it didn't have a jukebox). Folklore has it that a ricochet from one of the bullets made the record jump and as Cornell lay dying, the record was stuck playing "The sun ain't gonna shine anymore, anymore, anymore, anymore…".
Split personality
The Walker Brothers had a certain reputation for wearing tight trousers, although they were not alone in this respect. Which brings us to the Texas-born PJ Proby, who just like the Walkers travelled from the States to find fame in Britain. He briefly succeeded with the fame, but with it came notoriety.
A larger than life figure, he had a huge ego. He also had very tight trousers which proved to be his undoing. In two successive concerts, he split his blue velvet trousers while performing a vigorous dance routine. Although the audience only got to see his hairy knees, the trouser-splitting drew the attention of the British moral guardians and the tabloids. After the second incident, the Daily Mirror called him a "morally insane degenerate" and with other newspapers expressing concern over his show he was dropped from the tour and replaced by a certain Tom Jones (not averse to wearing tight trousers himself).
Despite this unwanted baggage, Proby had a decent voice and enjoyed a big hit in 1964 with Hold Me. It featured some falsetto singing, prompting all the girls in the audience to go bonkers. He also had hits with covers of Somewhere and Maria from West Side Story. But after the tour ban he was reduced to playing in clubs and by 1969 was declared bankrupt. He is now 80 and still performing, but thankfully no trouser-splitting.
Divine intervention
The aforementioned Blind Beggar incident is a case when the accompanying music proved quite appropriate. Some years later, music of a more spiritual nature was to play a role in very different circumstances in Bangkok. The following tale was related to me by a member of the congregation at Christ Church on Convent Road, about a service back in June 1992.
The Sunday morning service was just commencing when there was a flickering of lights and a spluttering of the organ and the whole flock was bathed in a dark silence -- it was a brownout.
Not to be outdone by this turn of events the intrepid organist located a piano and was able to accompany the choir for the opening hymn. The gloomy church was lifted at the end of each verse of the hymn as the congregation sang the inspiring last line, "Let there be light".
Apparently, their voices were heard both above and below. Just as the hymn ended the church was suddenly bathed in light. It wasn't exactly a miracle, but that hymn remained on permanent standby in the event of future electrical shortcomings.
Good times, bad times
There are also occasions when the music performed is less than appropriate. I attended a wedding reception in Bangkok years ago where the lovely Thai bride insisted on singing her favourite song, the ballad, For The Good Times. Unfortunately, the opening line is "Don't look so sad, I know it's over" and the lyrics go on to relate a couple breaking up, including the poignant line "I'll get along, you'll get another".
Despite that inauspicious start, I'm pleased to say the couple went on to enjoy a happy marriage.
Special request
Everybody probably associates certain songs with a particular place. The old standard Autumn Leaves always reminds me of a pub in Sussex, although paradoxically, I never heard it played there.
It was a rather soporific pub with a pianist playing old melodies rather badly. Suddenly the peace was disturbed when the pianist leapt from his stool and began throttling a customer sitting nearby. It was a scene more befitting an Irish boozer in London than a sophisticated Sussex pub.
Apparently, the customer deliberately provoked the pianist by repeatedly requesting Autumn Leaves, knowing full well he didn't know how to play it, prompting the pianist to go bananas.
