1. The Shirelles, "Dedicated to the One I Love." The several hit versions of this song are all wonderful. This one, which was actually something of a flop in 1959 but was a hit in a re-release a couple of years later, is a favorite of mine for the way Doris Coley pronounces the word "dedi-KAY-ted." In the absence of a good Shirelles video, the clip is of the Mamas and Papas' version. No one who writes about this one can neglect to mention Ed Ward's phenomenal essay on the writing of the song by Lowman Pauling with the "5" Royales. Ward's piece gets to the heart of the song; it hardly matters that he makes up most of the "facts." Michael Goldberg, now of MOG, called Ward's essay "one of the greatest-ever pieces of writing about music." It appeared in a book called Stranded, where a bunch of rock critics picked their "desert island" albums. Explaining his "crime against scholarship," Ward wrote:

I think that the mystery has been completely taken away from rock and roll, that is has been over-explained, over-analyzed, and, in the process, it has become effectively neutered, incapable of shock and joy. I think that for many "rock" artists, the impulse toward fun has been smothered by an increasingly rigidified sense of what is and what isn't acceptable, destroyed by a flock of vultures who won't be sated until the corpse is picked clean, the roll removed from the rock, and every secret, no matter how trivial or irrelevant to the creative act, is laid bare. And when the self-censoring impulse provides the shadow between the impulse and the act, you're dead, Jim, but you just don't know it.

2. The Flamingos, "I Only Have Eyes for You." While I'm not one of those doo wop fans who obsess about hunting down obscure 45s, I've always felt doo wop was the kind of genre where I don't quite trust anyone who doesn't like it. This song, one of the all-time doo wop greats, was introduced 25 years earlier by Dick Powell and Ruby Keeler.

3. Martin Denny, "Quiet Village." There was a time when "exotica" was the hottest thing going. Then there was a time when it was almost impossible to explain it to anyone who hadn't lived through it. Then came the great Exotica Revival of the 90s, and I guess now most folks know what it was: an oddball appropriation of Polynesian culture, tarted up for the new stereo records becoming popular with suburbanites like, well, like my parents, who owned the album Quiet Village, a 1959 release that included the 1957 title track (the album release date being the reason the song shows up here). The video link above is the reason YouTube was placed on Earth.

4. The Fleetwoods, "Come Softly to Me." Sometimes, quoting Wikipedia is lazy. Other times, it's pointless to try and top Wikipedia. And so, from here and here:

[A] popular song written by Gary Troxel, Barbara Ellis and Gretchen Christopher, published in 1959 and performed by The Fleetwoods.

The song was at first called "Come Softly" but was changed en route to its becoming a hit. They performed the song twice at school functions and their classmates wanted recordings of it so they could learn the song. After six months, they got the song recorded. They sang it a cappella, then dubbed the instrumental accompaniment, consisting only of Latin-styled acoustic guitar and the rhythmic shaking of Troxel's car keys.

Bob Reisdorf, the owner of Dolphin Records (later changed to Dolton Records), was responsible for the name change. He thought that the title was too risqué, so he had it changed to "Come Softly to Me." ...

By the late 1970s, Troxel was working in a plywood plant, Ellis was managing a trailer park in Canada, and Christopher was a housewife and modern dance teacher. In 2000, Troxel and his wife Jenifer lost a landmark grandparents' rights case before the Supreme Court of the United States. The court held that under the United States Constitution, non-parents seeking custody or visitation rights of a child against the wishes of the child's parents must prove that the parents are not acting in the best interest of the child in refusing custody or visitation.

5. Ray Charles, "What'd I Say." Charles wrote in his autobiography, "Not everyone dug it. It was banned by several radio stations. They said it was suggestive. Well, I agreed. I'm not one to interpret my own songs, but if you can't figure out ‘What'd I Say,’ then there's something wrong. Either that or you're not accustomed to the sweet sounds of love."

6. Odetta, "Down on Me." Later a minor hit for Big Brother and the Holding Company ... Janis Joplin was influenced by Odetta. Video link is to an early Big Brother version.

7. Buster Brown, "Fannie Mae." Brown was in his late-40s when he cut this, his first professional recording. It was a big hit for the blues harmonica player, reaching #1 on the black charts, a feat he never came close to achieving again. The louder you play this one, the better it sounds.

8. The 101 Strings Orchestra, "Malagueña." Another phenomenon that makes little sense today, the 101 Strings were precisely that, an orchestra with a lot of string players who recorded a gazillion albums, mostly based on themes, that were fairly popular. One, The Soul of Spain, was a big deal at our house, my father being Spanish. At the time, I thought our heritage was the only reason we had the album, but in later years, I was to find that The Soul of Spain was actually a common item in many suburban households of the day. "Malagueña" was my favorite of all the songs, perhaps appropriately, since our family is from the province of Malaga (although the song was written by a Cuban). Everybody has done a version of this song; it's popular with guitarists wanting to show off their hot licks, and, for some reason, with marching bands. The video link is to a marching band-ish version ... if guitars are more your style, you can watch Jose Feliciano here. And what the hell ... for the pickin' and grinnin' version by country star Roy Clark, go here. For if there's any song that deserves three video links on the blog of an Andalú, it's this one.

9. Ritchie Valens, "La Bamba." When I was in a high school garage band, we played this song once. As the resident Latino (yes, I know), I got to sing lead. That I didn't know the words was irrelevant. I'd just jabber like Speedy Gonzalez while we played really loud. I know the lyrics now, if anyone's looking for a lead singer.

10. Bo Diddley, "Say Man." In a random list of some truly odd songs, this one takes the cake. Bo and Jerome Green trade insults. "You look like you been whupped with a UGLY stick!" An early precursor to rap music ... in 1959.