The decade between 1952 and the early 1960s was the peak period for the style of music we now call doo wop, after which it got dissolved into soul music, girl groups, and within pop music in general. Basically, doo wop was a form of small group harmonising with a distinctive chord progression that – like hip hop – started out on the streets. Urban teens unable to afford musical instruments would use their voices (and nonsensical lyrical fragments like dip dip dip, and sha na na na) to imitate brass, bass and percussion. One of doo wop’s biggest pop hits “Duke of Earl” had actually begun life as a “do do do” warm-up vocal exercise, co-written by a guy called Earl.

By the early 1950s, in cities like Chicago, Philadelphia, Baltimore and (especially) New York, doo wop groups were practicing on lamplit street corners, on the porches in front of apartments, in train stations or anywhere that could offer a decent echo. The Del-Vikings’ 1956 hit “Come Go With Me” for example, was not only recorded in a basement, but with some members of the group singing from a closet within the basement.

Doo wop’s ancestors can be found in the gospel groups, the barbershop quartets and among the wildly successful black pop acts of the day, such as the Mills Brothers and the Ink Spots. In the 1930s, the Mills Brothers had been the first black act to get their own show on network radio. Unfortunately for them, their mainstream success led to them being on tour in Britain at the outbreak of WWII, and it took the group two years to find their way back to the States, via South America. The Mills Brothers still had huge hits like “Paper Doll”, but they had been displaced in their absence by the Ink Spots as America’s leading pop vocal group.

Here’s a live clip of the Mills Brothers from 1943, doing “Sweet Lucy Brown” complete with nonsense lyrics and vocal imitations of musical instruments:

Besides the pop acts like the Mills Brothers and Ink Spots, the other main black source of inspiration for doo wop was - no surprise – the church. Successful gospel groups like the Golden Gate Quartet provided virtuoso examples of harmonising and vocal effects, as in this version of “ Gospel Train”:

Although 1954’s “Earth Angel” by the Penguins (see below) is widely regarded as doo wop’s seminal recording, I tend to prefer “ The Wind” by Nolan Strong and the Diablos, another doo wop track released in the same year. Nolan Strong was a cousin of Barrett Strong, who later wrote and recorded Motown’s first hit single “Money (That’s What I Want.)”

“The Wind” demonstrates all the vocal chops and discipline that went into making doo wop’s most beautiful, stately recordings. If you like “The Wind” Nolan Strong can be found here doing a memorable a capella version of the old standard “Since I Fell For You.”

By the early 1950s, doo wop was carving out its own niche, via the likes of the Sonny Til and the Orioles’ recording of “Crying in the Chapel’ (a song Elvis Presley later made famous). Yet as mentioned, “Earth Angel” by the Penguins – and its chord sequence - became the blueprint for hundreds of records that came after it. This track – (and its songwriting credit) have a convoluted history.

Much about its success was accidental. It had been recorded in an L.A. garage, as a demo for the intended B side of the Penguins first single. The demo went on to sell ten million copies. The song itself was welded together from bits of previous tracks written by some of the group members when they belonged to another group, the Hollywood Flames. There were also inputs from their producer Dootsie Williams, and from friends like the r&b singer Jesse Belvin, who is now officially credited as a co-writer. In addition, the song’s bridge seems to have been lifted almost intact from an existing song called “I Went To Your Wedding,” which subsequently became a hit for the pop/country singer Patti Page.

“Earth Angel” was, as one music historian put it, a Frankenstein’s monster of a song that – like the monster – took on a life of its own :

Not all (or even most) of the early doo wop hits were ballads intended to showcase the group’s vocal virtuosity. The Jackson Five later credited Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers as being one of their main inspirations, early on. While “Why Do Falls Fall in Love” was a bigger hit, Lymon’s powerful voice and charisma -even at only 13 years of age – were equally evident on “I’m Not a Juvenile Delinquent.” The song now seems sadly ironic, given that Lymon died of a heroin overdose at his grandmother’s house in 1968, at the age of 25.

Like rock’n’roll, doo wop had multi-racial dimensions. Early incarnations of the Pittsburgh band the Del-Vikings, who had a massive hit with “Come Go With Me” had two white members, one of whom – Gus Backus – went on to have a successful career in Germany singing shlager, a cheesy form of beerhall music that many Germans prefer to disown.

That said, racism was also rife. White acts like the Crew Cuts and Pat Boone routinely released hit versions of black originals. The big hit version of Maurice Williams’ composition “Little Darlin” for instance, was by the Canadian group the Diamonds, one of many white doo wop groups.

Thankfully that trend faded, and even white audiences preferred the originals. Williams went on to write “Stay” which became arguably the biggest (and most revived) doo wop song of all time, as well as being the shortest track ever to hit the number one spot on the Billboard pop charts. Williams is the lead tenor, and that’s Henry Gaston singing falsetto:

Often, doo wop groups chose old music standards as the launching pad for their own re-interpretations. The classic example would have to be the Flamingos atmospheric version of the oldie “I Only Have Eyes For You.” In this TV clip, the production crew weirdly decided (in the midst of a midsummer heatwave) to create a winter setting, and put the group in jerseys and puffer jackets for what really isn’t a camp-fire sing along:

This next track by the same group predates “I Only Have Eyes For You” and is either a heartfelt expression of undying love or an early example of gaslighting: “Would I be crying/if I was lying to you?” You be the judge. The clip comes from the low budget Alan Freed film Rock Rock Rock . The impressionable teenager being entranced by the music (while Dad smokes his pipe and reads the newspaper unaware that rock’n’roll is infiltrating his household!) is played by a 14 year old Tuesday Weld, later to become a major Hollywood star:

One ironic aspect of 1950s New York doo wop is that the same disadvantaged communities (black, Italian-American, Polish-American, Puerto Rican etc) fighting for urban territory in the streets, would also be embracing the same music traditions in the recording studio. At the time, major Italian-American communities existed in Manhattan in Little Italy, East Harlem and the South Village. Dion and the Belmonts (named after Belmont Avenue in the Bronx) were the most popular of the Italian-American doo wop groups. Dion DiMucci went on to massive solo hits like “Runaround Sue,” “The Wanderer” and “Ruby Baby”... and for a while, he was the biggest Italian-American heart-throb since Frank Sinatra.

During Dion’s time with the Belmonts, their biggest hit was a version of the Rogers and Hart classic “Where or When,” but this track was their breakthrough moment:

Doo wop’s treatment of pop standards was never simply reverential. On their version of “Blue Moon” the Marcels radically sped up the melody and bombarded the lyrics with nonsense syllables. Vito and the Salutations (an Italian/Irish/ Jewish group) did the same thing with their cheerfully manic rendition of “Unchained Melody” a song usually treated as the mamajama of power ballads. But not the time:

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These variations on doo wop tradition do illustrate its range, but the heart of the matter remained with the ballads. Even an original composition like “In The Still of the Night” derived much of its appeal from the classically restrained delivery by the Five Satins. I talked before about the endless search for great natural acoustics. Well, this track was recorded in the echoey basement of St Bernadette’s Catholic church in the group’s hometown of New Haven, Connecticut.

There was a vogue in the late 1950-s/early 1960s for “answer” records that recycled the melodies of hit songs. Yet the Heartbeats “A Thousand Miles Away” took this to an extreme. It was the initial entry in a song cycle of at least six singles written by James “Shep” Sheppard that traced a relationship from initial attraction and geographical separation, through to marriage and beyond. The sequence culminated in the enduringly popular hit song “Daddy’s Home” by Shep and the Limelites, a new group that Sheppard put together that included only some of the Heartbeats. Both tracks are great, and there’s a fantastic a capella rehearsal version of “A Thousand Miles Away” available here. But this studio version is where the saga officially began:

For all of its classical rigour, doo wop also had a sense of humour. The 1954 hit “Get a Job” by the Silhouettes dealt with the ruckus at home when the man of the house was not putting enough time and energy into finding gainful employment. A few years later, the Coasters revisited the same situation in their hit “Yakety Yak.” But here’s where it started:

Well, every morning about this time (sha na na na na, sha na na na na) she gets me out of the bed a-cryin get a job (sha na na na na sha na na na na/After breakfast everyday she throws the want ads my way/ and never fails to say – get a job!

Footnote: “Get a Job” is also the record from which the terrible 1970s band Sha Na Na took their name.

Sometimes, the harmony fills and nonsense lyrics took over things entirely. This song for instance is about a girl named Rama Lama Lama Lama Ding Dong. The track became a hit in 1961 largely thanks to the Marcels’ success with “ Blue Moon.” Yet it had actually been recorded four years earlier by the group when they called themselves the Essos, after the oil company. They then re-named themselves after the Ford company’s newest vehicle, the Edsel. Unfortunately, the Edsel turned out to be the least successful car in the history of the US motor industry.

Lowman Pauling of The “5” Royales deserves to be far better known. As a guitarist, Eric Clapton and Steve Cropper both acknowledged him as an influence. He also wrote and recorded the original version of “Dedicated To The One I Love” which became a hit for both the Shirelles and for the Mamas and Papas. Pauling was no slouch as a singer, either – excelling at everything from power ballads to jump tunes like “Right Around The Corner” and also this effortlessly great track, later recorded by James Brown:

The Rays had only one hit, called “Silhouettes.” It was the breakthrough composition for Bob Crewe who later co-wrote (with Bob Gaudio) a string of monster hits for Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, as well as writing “Lady Marmalade” for Patti Labelle. This early track features good hooks and harmonies over a complex tale of mis-placed jealousy. The singer thought he was seeing his girlfriend making out in silhouette with another guy, until he realised he had mistaken where he and his girlfriend actually lived and so – happy days ! – he could rush home in the last verse and cast loving shadows with her against their own apartment curtains. Love is blinds.

New York was the epicentre of doo wop, but there were also significant scenes in Baltimore, Philadelphia, Los Angeles and in Chicago, home of great labels like Chess and Veejay and also home to the mighty Dells. You can see the kinship the Dells had with the Temptations on this 1970s clip of the Dells reviving “Stay In My Corner”...a track that serves as a bridge between classic doo wop and soul music’s epic slow jams. Check out the held note that starts around 4.35 and goes on forever:

All the above artists are men. Doo wop was also a major factor in the emergence of the girl groups of the 1960s, a trend that began in earnest in late 1957 with the Chantels, whose classically trained 15 year old lead singer Arlene Smith set a very high standard for what was to come in her wake. The first Chantels hit “He’s Gone” is great, but this second single is the killer:

The Shirelles (named after their own excellent lead singer Shirley Owens) had access to some great material written by the young Carole King (“Will You Love Me Tomorrow”) and by Lowman Pauling (“Dedicated To the One I Love”). This lesser known Shirelles hit belongs in the same league, and it directly inspired Van Morrison’s song “Days Like This,” the title song of Morrison’s 1995 album of the same name.

As a kid, I bought the “My True Story” single by the Jive Five, partly because of the intense opening, and partly for the lyrics. The song seemed to be about a love triangle between Sue, Earl and Lorraine (“She’s a wonderful girl”) only for the fourth wall to be broken in the last verse when the singer declares that “This story ends here/it was no lie/names have been changed, dear/to protect you and I.” Hmm. Wonderful girl that she was, Lorraine seemed to be the likely third wheel in this affair.

By the early 1960s, doo wop as a recognisable genre of pop music was all but finished. Soul music was entering the frame, Motown was rising, and the British invasion was imminent. In 1962 though, a doo wop group called the Velvet Angels sang some songs a capella into a tape recorder in a hotel room in Minnesota. Two of the four Velvet Angels had been in Nolan Strong’s group, the Diablos (see above) and “Take a Tip” serves as a lovely swan song for the doo wop era:

Footnote One: I haven’t had room for the Dells eternally great “ Oh What A Night”, the Five Keys “Close Your Eyes” the Spaniels “ Goodnight, Sweetheart Goodnight” or the Five Satins “To the Aisle.” No room either for the comically woeful “No One To Love Me” by the Sha-Weez. Among the up-tempo tracks, there’s “Right Around the Corner” by The “5” Royales, and “(Crazy Little Mama Knocking) At My Front Door” by the El Dorados. All of those singles are available on Youtube.

Footnote Two: Finally, and to go back to where this column started, the Ink Spots story has to be mentioned. In the late 1930s, their lead singer Bill Kenny created a highly successful (and influential) template that he called the “Top and Bottom.” After a brief guitar intro, Kenny’s flawless tenor would sing the first verse, and then the bass singer would step up and recite the same lyrics, before the song’s focus returned to Kenny.

This simple template had its debut on 1937’s “If I Didn’t Care” which allegedly went on to sell 19 million copies, making it still among the top five best-selling singles of all time. Over the next decade, the Ink Spots put the “Top and Bottom” model to work on a string of soundalike hits. As one critic put it, the world knew what it wanted from the Ink Spots, who were more than willing to deliver it. Reportedly, it was their internal squabbling over the gushers of money that ended their run. Here’s “If I Didn’t Care”:

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