POOKY HUDSON AND THE SPANIELS

A lot of people must have wondered, "What's a Pookie Hudson," when Aaron Neville thanked "God, Nat 'King' Cole and Pookie Hudson" on the back of his album a year or so ago. A casual listen to Neville's style will reveal a debt to Pookie.

James Hudson is one of those few singers for whom even the trained ears of the musicologist can find no antecedent. A few others in the rock 'n' roll era come to mind: Clyde McPhafter, Sam Cooke & Fats Domino. On, Pookie surely listened to Sonny Til and others of the day, but such was the force of his personality that it obliviated any trace of influence of other vocalists.

He originally saw himself as a solo performer, but after being asked by an existing group of fellow high schoolers at Gary, Indiana's Roosevelt High to join him at a pre-Christmas talent show, he found himself the lead singer of Pookie Hudson and the Hudsonaires. The eleventh graders were soon singing at local talent shows, churches and other affairs. At one practice session the group changed their name to the Spaniels when bass singer Gerald Gregory's wife told them they sounded "like a bunch of dogs."

Within the year, the renamed Spaniels, regular customers at Vivian's Record Shop, owned by Vivian Carter, a local disc jockey on WWCA, and her husband, Jimmy Bracken, found themselves the force behind the Bracken's decision to open their own record label. In fact, one of the possible label names being considered prior to settling on Vee-Jay (the first initials of the two principles) was Spaniel.

From the first 1953 Vee-Jay recording session came "Baby, It's You" and "Bounce," which featured the lead vocal of Gerald Gregory, one of the greatest bass singers in all of R&B.

The Ravens' Jimmy Ricks might have had a deeper range with which to rattle speaker cones to shreds, but Gerald's sinuses the size of the Astrodome produced a cavernous sound unmatched by anyone. He could entertain with his novelties like "Bounce" or "House Cleaning," or move the listener with his soulful self-penned "So Deep Within." His intros (who can forget "Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo" on "Goodnight Sweetheart, Goodnight?") set the stage for Pookie in song after song for a one-two punch few groups could stand up to. The group recalls some forty years later that Gerald's bass line on "Baby, It's You" was patterned after that of Shirley & Lee's then-current hit, "I'm Gone."

As "Baby, It's You" started to make some noise in the Gary/Chicago area, it soon became clear that the novice, would be record moguls couldn't handle all the action. So Chicago distributor Art Sheridan leased the record and another Vee-Jay coupling by Jimmy Reed for release on his Chance label. The Spaniels hit number ten on Billboard's R&B chart, establishing the Spaniels if not their label.

Although well-remembered today by fans, their follow-up, "The Bells Ring Out," made only a ripple. The third release, however, was a different story altogether-the all-time classic, "Goodnight Sweetheart, Goodnight," which reached #5 R&B and #24 on the pop charts in the spring of 1954, a time when such a high position was still relatively rare.

"Goodnight Sweetheart, Goodnight" was the kind of song which could be sung by many singers in many styles, thus prompting numerous cover versions, the most successful of which was the million-seller by the McGuire Sisters. Other versions by Gloria ("Teenage Prayer) Mann and country duo Johnny & Jack did particularly well, too.

Pookie tells of how DJ Alan Freed, then working out of Cleveland as "The Moondog," tried to horn in for half the song writers' share and when Pookie refused, the soon-to-be King of Rock 'n' Roll blacklisted the Spaniels from ever appearing on any of his shows. The song was later revived in the movies "American Hot Wax" and in the Tom Selleck/Ted Danson vehicle, "Three Men And A Baby," where the stars "sang" the tune.

In song writers' parlance, a "free-ride" is when the tunesmith scores a place on the flip side on a hit. In Pookie's case, the group's follow-up, "Let's Make Up," found its way to the back of "The Ballad Of Davy Crockett" by the Voices of Walter Schumann. Their label's accounting practices, however, gave new meaning to the phrase "free ride."

"Let's Make Up," written and sung by group member "Willie C." Jackson, rates a place as a pre-rap record. Willie says he made up the words off the top of his head in the studio, while the group sang their "doo-wah-wah"s behind him.

Uncle Sam-as well as discontent-played havoc with the Spaniels' membership in 1955, causing the personnel changes listed below. Still, beloved-if-limited sellers such as "You Gave Me Peace of Mind" and "Stormy Weather," both highly ranked favorites among fans of vocal group music-despite their not appearing on sales charts of the time-place the Spaniels in the upper pantheon of what are now called doo-wop groups.

Two Spaniels album cuts, "A Lovely Way To Spend An Evening" and "Red Sails In The Sunset" are as popular among collectors as if they had been hit singles. They also backed up Pricilla Bowman on her version of "A Rockin' Good Way," which bit the dust two years before Brook Benton & Dinah Washington hit #1 with theirs.

Another pair of minor chart making cha-lypsos, "Everyone's Laughing" and "I Know," though less fondly remembered than some of the above songs, wound down their stay at Vee-Jay in 1960. A revival of "For Sentimental Reasons" on Neptune finished the group.

By 1962, Pookie had moved to Washington, DC and wasn't faring too well. Remembering that Lloyd Price had offered to help out, Pookie headed for New York-in the middle of winter, without an appointment-only to find that Lloyd was out on tour! A week sleeping in Central Park before Price's return is remembered as the low point of his life.

At this time, Lloyd and his manager, Harold Logan, had started their own label, Double-L, with hits by Wilson Picket and Lloyd himself. A couple of the Imperials (sans Little Anthony) wrote a song called "I Know, I Know".  They backed up Pooch for a nice record which was only a turntable hit.

Since then, various configurations of Spaniels have graced various stages, sometimes with Gerald, usually with Pooch, who is never less than masterful.

My own experiences with them number three: the first was in 1979 at the Howard Theater in Washington, DC where my band accompanied them. The second was on my radio show, where they sang a cappella (and I got to sing "Stormy Weather" with them) and, third, at the recent 50th birthday party for the Manhattan Transfer's Tim Hauser, when his wife flew them out to Los Angeles to surprise him - Party favors like that you don't get every day!

Billy Vera, 1992