Richard Hayman And His Orchestra "Voodoo!" 1959

 

I was talking to my wife about Exotica records the other day, and we both agreed that there are a lot that sound quite similar to each other.  Because we both really like that sound, this is a good thing.  It’s really nice to know that when you pop on a Martin Denny or Arthur Lyman record, you are going to be taken to a place that is exotic, but after a while, familiar.  One thing I have noticed about Exotica records though is that most artists are not afraid to play a little with the formula and try to have at least one or two songs that are off the beaten path (to use an exotic sounding phrase.) 

                “Voodoo!” by Richard Hayman  is no exception.  At this point in my Exotica listening career, I should know what a “voodoo” song sounds like, but when I put on the first side of the record and hear “Danse Calinda,” I don’t get that vibe at all.  This sounds like a jaunty Mambo number if I ever heard one.  It is great for lots of reasons.  It makes me want to move my hips and find out what the lead instrument is.  It sounds like a giant kazoo to me.  When I think of voodoo, wiggling my hips and giant kazoos are not what should come to mind.  With that being said, it’s a fine opener to the album. 

“Mamba” and “Voodoo” are a little closer to what I would expect from an album title “Voodoo!”  Both feature the gut thundering drums that are all over this record.  “Mamba” also makes wonderful use of some ear splitting flutes/piccolos and squawking trombones.  You really get a Les Baxter movie soundtrack vibe from “Voodoo.”  It makes me feel like the characters are struggling with, or mystified by something.  Most people would need context for this type of music.  Without the “movie,” your average listener might just find himself struggling with, or mystified by this song itself. 

There are some songs on here that have more of a traditional Exotica sound to them.  “Spell of Deatra” comes to mind first.  This one is more Middle Eastern and creates some beautiful textures with octave piano notes mixed with strings.  “Gris-Gris” is one of the slower (but not relaxing) paced songs on the record, and “Afro” has a similar feel to Dave Brubeck’s “Take 5.”  It’s not in 5/4 time, but it does sound like a jungle version of that song.   

As I mentioned earlier, there is usually a song on Exotica records that seems to take a chance.  Arthur Lyman used to end his records with something that was totally off the wall compared to the songs that preceded it.  “Incantation” is that song here.  Staring down at the grooves of the records, I can see that it is about twice the length of any of the other songs.  It starts with a percussive groove that slowly ads tambourine, maracas, and toms.  After just under a minute, a “savage” starts to yell in some faux language.  Really, it sounds like a bunch of gibberish.  He does sing a few bent notes that are fairly interesting though.  After a huge gong explodes, a call and response ensues between the “savage” and the large group.  This conversation goes nowhere.  By that I mean the people he shouts at become less and less excited, and actually seem a little disappointed by the end.  It’s kind of weird.  The drums come back and the song and gibberish finish up.  This song sticks out like a recalcitrant hair on a finely combed pompadour (maybe Richard Hayman's?).  As a lover of Exotica, these songs are interesting to me for both sonic and cultural reasons.  However, this song is very much of its time, and I could see someone getting offended hearing this in the wrong context. 

Tones:  This is an orchestra record, and to me the horns play a very important role.  They have a thick pasty quality to them in places, especially on “Midnight Ritual.”  There is only a little guitar on this record, but it is very noticeable on “Conjuration.”  It is light, plucky, and sounds like someone getting hit continually with a pea shooter. 

Cover Note:  This looks more like a picture of a moon walk than anything having to do with Voodoo.  It’s more like a Voodoo cheerleader doll  that is filled with glee that it has found its way to lunar paradise.  The back however has one of the best pictures of an orchestra leader I have ever seen.  Richard Hayman, complete with horn rimmed glasses, shiny slicked back hair, and two inch dimples, has the biggest,  warmest smile I have ever seen.  This is the guy I want to meet at a party.  This is the cool kid I want to sit with at lunch. 

Price paid:  I had read good things about this record, so I forked over $7.00 for a very clean copy.  If you are heavily into Exotica then I think a few bucks more would be perfectly reasonable. 

Bottom line:  I wouldn't say this is a must have record, but it is a very good record.  This kind of record will plant you firmly into “Exotic nerd” territory, or “Weirdo music” land.  It is tough for me to think of a good context to play this for someone.  For me it is one that is best enjoyed with headphones.     

Arthur Lyman "Hawaiian Sunset" (1959)

                What a sleepy little record.  This may be one of the quietest albums I own.  Literally, the amount of sound coming off the grooves is far less than any other album I have.  However, what it lacks in volume, it make up for in dynamic range.  The playing is so soft that I feel like if someone dropped a glass in the background, my headphones would explode.  When instruments are played this softly, it almost can make you feel somewhat uneasy.  I went to an experimental music show at a Boston conservatory once.  I was told it would be a very quiet show, but I had no idea that the lack of sound would actually make me feel anxious.  It was almost like the sound of my own breathing was interrupting the songs or something.  This record is not that extreme, but does have some elements of that.  At the end of the day, I really do like this record, but I think it makes my wife feel weird.  I can get that.  There are also these big conch shell bellows that explode the volume (I’m looking at you “Ke Kali Nei Au.”)  The whole trip is intriguing. 

                As I mentioned in my post of Hugo Winterhalter’s album “Goes…Hawaiian,” I love “Hawaiian War Chant.”  This version may be one of my favorites, just because it is so different.  First, it starts off in a minor key instead of the traditional major.  It changes to major, but not just the major version of the regular key.  It moves to the relative major.  It is a very basic song to start with, so I really like how Arthur and the boys make it their own. 

                “Hilawe” is only 1:11 seconds long and the group makes every second count.  My buddies and I used to do a lot of “Top 5” lists and one of the topics was songs under 2 minutes.  They are pretty rare to begin with unless you really dig punk music.  “Hilawe” would make my list any day of the week.  It feels a little anachronistic on the record because it is a guitar number and has no vibraphone.  It’s quite charming in its simplicity and performance though.  You can even hear that Arthur’s lowest string on his guitar is a bit desafinado.  Perhaps the concept of the exceptionally short song is somewhat underexplored.  It sure does work here. 

                Because this record is so quiet, there is also strange background noise to be heard.  Strap on some headphones and listen to “Island of Golden Dreams.”  There is a tinkling sound that can be heard right at the beginning behind the band.  Humming and breathing are heard often as well.  Because this album, as well as many of his others, was recorded at the Henry J. Kaiser Aluminum Dome, you can hear creaks of metal as well.  These superfluous bits are part of the Lyman sound as far as I am concerned, and they certainly add to the strange quality of these recordings. 

Tones:  I don’t think I mentioned how beautiful the playing actually is.  Arthur’s tone is soft as rabbit’s fur and makes you feel like your eyes are closed even when they aren’t.  The guitars are also barely strummed and have that old string tone I enjoy so much (I never change my strings on my acoustic until they break.)  Check out the bowed double bass on “Harbor Lights.”  The tone is so low that strings must be about to 15 feet long to obtain it.  I also want to own a celesta one day after hearing this album. It’s not all “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” with that instrument.     

                  

Cover Note:  Very basic, but fitting.  How can you not enjoy a picture of a Hawaiian Sunset?  There are also two little silhouettes at the bottom right if you have never noticed them. 

Price Paid:  $5.00 at an antique shop.

Bottom Line:  After writing this I have concluded that this is a very avant-garde album.  It never truly settles in and even when it starts to, something weird happens.  With that being said, I am always glad I listened to it, and feel better for having done so.  I’d pay $1.00-$5.00 for a clean copy.  Don’t buy a scratchy copy though.  It’s too quiet for that.