My parents had the 45 rpm single version of this hit song from 1964 in their record collection.
The 45 disc was 7 inches in circumference with a hole in the middle. The outer rim of the single spun at 45 revolutions per minute when played. Recording companies made these discs from vinyl poured into a round mold. A stylus cut into the vinyl to embed the music. Another type of stylus played the recording. Because there was contact and friction between the stylus and the record, eventually the vinyl wore out.
The single could still play twenty years after it’s release, but it started with a blast of static. In the middle of the muddle, a deep voice started the song. Violins joined in. The lead singer of the Drifters at that time, Ben E. King cried out that his baby had left after he had done something that broke her heart. It’s never explained what caused the breakup. He’s full of remorse and seeks another chance, but the girl is nowhere to be found.
His back-up singers seem more concerned with keeping time with the music and are oblivious to him. The violins try to drown him out. The stylus would often skip and he would repeat an unintentional line.
King sings with all his force to get above the fray till the last word. The static and pops clear and he is in full command of the song. He’s still not in command of the situation because the intended never actually comes back. The song fades out without resolution.
There’s so much sorrow in King’s voice, but he will live and learn. In the following years, he’ll record “Spanish Harlem” and “Stand by Me.”
If he could survive, then any lonely person could.
We got a copy of the song on compact disc in the 90’s. The static was gone. The violins had perfect pitch. The musical proficiency of the band became even more obvious. Ben E. King’s pleas were clear and in harmony with the band.
It stunk.
For all the studio craftsmanship, it lost power and pain. Vocals that fought through static and 1970’s low watt speakers were now precise and perfect.
How can I relate? How can anyone understand the remorse with no static to fight against? The drama was replaced by precision. The words and notes became meticulous. The beauty of the music overtook the story.
Should I enjoy the studio perfect music or the troubled and unresolved story? Isn’t life an unresolved story? Is life like perfect music?
Somewhere there must be a terrible version of this song on itunes.
That’s the one to listen to.