This wasn’t the pairing I planned to present today for the 10th installment of my #TuesdaysWithJerry series, an ongoing look at the history of A&M Records (cofounded by the late Jerry Moss) that I’ve hitched to ye olde #VinylTwosDays wagon, captained each week by @vinyl_is_life.
Unfortunately I haven’t enough time to adequately extol the many virtues of my intended subject — so Fairport Convention will have to wait. Luckily I’ve been sitting on a stack o’ wax from the Baja Marimba Band in anticipation of just such a harried occasion, for here is a truly kitschy combo about which more thoughtful examinations aren’t needed.
Julius Wechter was their leader, the musician behind the title instrument. After cutting his teeth for exotica master Martin Denny (in whose outfit he replaced another mood maestro, Arthur Lyman), the young marimba player soon found himself earning $15 for session work on Herb Alpert’s first set with the burgeoning Tijuana Brass, 1962’s ‘The Lonely Bull.’
He made such an impression on the trumpeter-turned-mogul that Mr. A convinced Mr. M to make Wechter part of their rapidly expanding talent roster.
By the release of the bottom record pictured here, ‘The Baja Marimba Band Rides Again’ in ‘65, Wechter had written a hit for Alpert, ‘Spanish Flea,’ while his equally faux-Mexican (if also more grossly stereotypical) ensemble started supporting the Tijuana Brass on the road.
What the group’s outdated caricaturing disguised, however, was sophisticated arranging in the manner of the TB and Sérgio Mendes’s Brasil ‘66, further dolled up as lounge-filling, cocktail-accompanying fun.
It’s a cheeky style best exemplified by the top disc in this pic, ‘Fowl Play’ (‘68), enlivened not only by a few commendable Wechter originals but more so by his playful takes on hits of the era, including Lennon/McCartney’s ‘She’s Leaving Home,’ Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘The Sound of Silence,’ and a pair from the Association, ‘Windy’ and ‘Along Comes Mary.’
Try to overlook the cultural misappropriation if you can.
What’s inside isn’t nearly so offensive.
At times it’s even downright delightful.
Such sharpened silliness. No wonder Chuck Barris used the Baja Marimba Band’s best bits for virtually all of his successful game shows.