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 1. Edd Byrnes - "Kookie's Mad Pad" (1961)

Best remembered as the slick, if creepy, Dick Clark-alike Vince Fontaine in Grease, Edd Byrnes (né Edward Byrne Breitenberger) was initially styled as a television Dean for the early '60s Warner Brothers series 77 Sunset Strip.  Presumably under the guidance of studio bosses keen to capitalize on his matinée idol looks (when one could use the phrase "matinée idol looks" in all sincerity) and substantial teenage-girl fanbase, Byrnes put out a string of novelty records in character as Kookie, indefatigable greaser-cum-rocker wiseass.  His first major single, "Kookie, Kookie, Lend Me Your Comb", recorded with Connie Stevens, landed him an appearance on American Bandstand and cracked Billboard's Top 5.  Its success prompted a number of shamless cash-ins ("Kookie's Cha-cha-cha", "Kookie's Clock", "Kookie's Boogie") met with inevitably  diminishing returns.

The best of the lot, "Kookie's Mad Pad", is capital-K kitsch.  Off-kilter brass, a fast and loose rhythm section, faux-bossanova and cringe-inducing stock '60s-isms ("Man, dig this crazy pad!") defy stereotypes of coporate-mandated hep.  Kookie dumbly reels off a list of questionable upholstery choices (viz. "blue suede drapes, wall to wall television, alpaca lampshades, plaid lightbulbs,") as the instrumentation whirls around him.  But -- the band is tight, Byrnes's earnestness is endearing, and the tune comes off as a healthy dose of camp.

2.  Georgie Fame and the Blue Flames - "Yeh Yeh" (1964)

Of Larry Parnes's stable of hysterically named teen rockers, Β la Billy Fury and Duffy Power, Georgie Fame is perhaps the only protégé to fashion a respectable musical career.  Drafted in as Fury's piano player for backing band The Blue Flames, Fame was eventually installed the outfit's frontman and performed regularly in and around London, most notably at the Bag 'O Nails club.  Though the band's bread and butter was R&B, they sometimes wandered into slightly more exotic territory, as evinced by this cover of "Yeh Yeh."  A staple of any worthwhile mod compilation, the tune hit number one in the UK, knocking The Beatles' "I Feel Fine" from its perch.

Fame croons soulfully with effortless cool over what is essentially a bit of cod-Latin wrapped around rhythm and blues.  The arrangement steers clear of anything approaching adventurism and thus avoids becoming disposable musical tourism --  the Blue Flames handle the clipped rhythm admirably and ground the tune in an English beat sensibility.  Awash in sax flourishes and percussive pizzazz, the song bounces along merrily and, curiously, without any discernable hook.  An indispensable little number for all mod-boppers.

The recent success and re-release of The Four Seasons' "Beggin'" (thanks in part to the Pilooski remix of the track) has also renewed interest in Timebox's version of the song, prompting a compilation release, "Timebox -- Beggin' : The Sound Of London's Mod Club Scene."  Another staple of the London club circuit, Timebox was a criminally overlooked 8-member soul-jazz-blues-pop group that released a number of nowhere-singles on Pye and Decca imprints before disbanding in 1970.

Their take on "Beggin'" retains the Four Seasons' introduction, rendered here with heavier strings and vibraphone, before lurching into some seriously aggressive brass reined to a galloping backbeat.  Singer Mike Patto eschews Frankie Valli's tough-guy Jersey vocal style for a more vulnerable approach, emphasizing the begging in "Beggin'," to great effect.  The charged backing comes across as overcooked Stax with strings, but is tightly arranged and rarely busy,  Enthusiastic strings and an equally frantic horn section verge on funky.  Bettering the original by a wide margin, the single peaked at a disappointing 38 in UK charts.  As a contemporary review put it, "If it's not a hit there's something very very wrong and it's going to be all your fault!"  Essential.

Perhaps best known to casual audiences as the composer of "Mambo No. 5", Prado was a well-regarded and immensely popular Cuban-Mexican bandleader specializing in Latin dance beats.  His 1967 album, Concierto Para Bongo, is a one-stop Afro-Cuban rhythm-and-bebop bender, equal parts improvisation and structure.  As the title suggests, percussion-heavy tracks make up a sizable chunk of the album, though tightly metered up-tempo Latin dancehall also features prominently.  "Claudia" is the album-opener, 2:20 of joy that complements the 17 minute-plus improvised orgy that rounds out the record’s flip-side.

The song is a straightforward exercise in layered rhythms and melodies, beginning with drums and bass, accommodating organ and brass drop-ins before exploding into a full-on rave.  An inexhaustibly cheerful organ rings out the basic melody in staccato as the song picks up steam; blaring horns come in for a descending riff just as the song pauses and launches into the refrain.  If all the movement and fluidity don't make you want to jive, you're probably a Pitchfork reader.

 5.  Remo Four - "Rock Candy" (1967)

Beat musos from Liverpool, The Remo Four never quite found success on their own, often serving as the backing band for anyone who'd have them (a diverse list that includes Johnny Quickly, Billy J. Kramer and George Harrison).  The band stood apart from their early-'60s Liverpool contemporaries in terms of chops and musical ability, though line-up changes and middling original output ensured that they remained several tiers below the top groups of the time.

"Rock Candy" is a a slab of mongrel beat-jazz coming out of nowhere, a tantalizing taste of how good they could be.  A false introduction throws the listener right into the middle of the song , restarting after a flashy faux-ending in a slightly more orthodox manner.  Obligatory piano, guitar and organ solos follow over an animated shuffle.  Efficient, but never clinical, the song holds up especially well against the meandering psych-odysseys that infected the post-Pepper pop world.

(Sorry, no streams available for this one. If you really, really, really want to listen to this one, we suggest buying this compilation. It appears to be the only recording this was ever released on)