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Ti amo, mi ami
This is one of our latest purchases and we’re as pleased as punch with it. The song is, of course, a cover of Samantha Jones’s poptastic Surrounded by a ray of sunshine, retitled Ti amo, mi ami. Fortunately, by the time of its release in 1967, Meri Marabini had dropped the Cruela De Vil look she’d sported for her previous 45, Una voce. However, even as a blonde, Meri failed to find much success. This record quickly found itself in the bargain bins – followed shortly afterwards by Meri’s pop career. (Incidentally, there was a cracking programme on Samantha Jones broadcast on Australia’s Southern FM radio last month. If you missed it, download the podcast.)
The boy I used to know
Andee Silver remains known among Brit girl aficionados for her debut single, Too young to go steady. Regular visitors may recall that, last year when we featured the terrific You’re just what I was looking for today, we promised to unearth more of the London-born singer’s recordings. We’ve now laid our hands on the rest of her back catalogue – and pretty good it is too. The plucky blonde also recorded for the Italian and Spanish markets and, with the odd exception, the results are pretty impressive. We’ll publish a full profile of the singer very soon, with loads of soundclips so you can judge for yourself. In the meantime, here’s her second A-side, The boy I used to know, from 1964. Orchestration is provided by no less than Ivor Raymonde, the man behind many of Dusty Springfield’s hits.
Aún sigo queriéndote
If this track is anything to go by, María Dolores should have been huge, we reckon. Mind you, we have been wrong before. The singer tried for success first with the Marbella subsidiary of Spain’s Vergara label, and then with the smaller Ekipo record company. She launched her recording career in 1965 with a version of Charles Aznavour’s Que c’est triste Venise, retitled Venecia sin ti. Olvidemos el mañana and Un hombre llegó followed later that year. Their lack of success saw María Dolores dropped. It didn’t take long for the singer to land a new contract. However, a version of Domenico Modugno/Gigliola Cinquetti’s Dio come ti amo and La muñeca que hace no, both released in 1966, fared no better. The latter is noteworthy, however, for including this heartfelt ballad.
Tu n’as pas le droit
Last month, France Gall took over the reins as guest editor of an edition of Gala, a French magazine very much in the style of Hello! The singer has stayed out of the limelight since the death of her husband in 1992. In the meantime, she’s fought breast cancer (and is now in remission), lived through the death of her teenage daughter and continued her charity work in Africa. She says that when she goes out these days, people come over and tell her how much they miss her. We know how they feel. That’s why we’ve picked this terrific track this month. The song is taken from her album FG, which has recently been rereleased as part of a CD box set of her first four albums, and is readily available from Amazon.fr and Amazon.co.uk. (In Gala, France also mentioned that she’s kept all her clothes from throughout her career. Now that’s something we’d love to see.)
Sowas kann man nicht vergessen (Deine Küsse beim Goodbye)
Denmark’s Dorthe Larsen (later, Kollo), like many of her fellow Scandinavian singers, performed her fair share of Schlager nonsense. Top of the list of these was 1968’s Sind Sie der Graf von Luxemburg – though we will admit to having sung along to that particular ditty at full volume after a sweet sherry or 17. Mercifully, Dorthe did get to sing a few decent songs too. Here’s a great example. We were alerted to it by RSG visitor Nathaniel. Sowas kann man nicht vergessen (Deine Küsse beim Goodbye) was tucked away on the B-side of Heut hab’ ich mein Herz verloren, a 1966 single that sank upon release. Shame – we rather like Dorthe and think she deserved better.
You’re never gonna get my lovin’
The pair behind this record had more stage names than hot dinners – and given that they hailed from India, that’s quite some feat. The Stockingtops was the short-lived but high-camp moniker of sisters Yvonne and Heather Wheatman. They are better known as Sue and Sunny, but they also worked as The Myrtelles, Sue and Sunshine and even as part of the early incarnation of Brotherhood of Man (long before the glory days of Save your kisses for me). As The Stockingtops, the girls issued just two 45s, both in 1968. All four tracks had been penned by Kenny Lynch, and this is our absolute favourite.