Girl Group

Journal of Popular Music Studies, Volume 24, Issue 2, Pages 117–154

Bouffants, Beehives, and Breaking Gender Norms: Rethinking “Girl Group” Music of the 1950s and 1960s

Will Stos York University

In the summer of 1957 five black American girls, ranging in age from 11 to 15 years old, charmed the record-buying public with a finger-snapping love song reportedly about their grammar school principal at New York City Public School 109—a man whom, according to the person in question, “they liked and admired very much.”1 “Mr. Lee” became the first single of the rock’n’roll era by a female vocal group to hit number one on the Billboard R & B charts and to become a top ten pop single.2 The Bobbettes, a “nom de plume for a more sanitized ‘bobbysoxer’ teen image” (Warner 19), and their hit provided a popular template for what music critics would come to call the “girl group” genre.

In reality, The Bobbettes despised Mr. Lee, and the girls originally wrote the song to insult him. It was only at the insistence of their record company that the lyrics—originally calling “Mr. Lee Ugly”—were altered to be more appropriate and acceptable for their target audience—other girls living in postwar America.3 Although the popularity of the revised song may suggest these record executives understood what type of lyric would be commercially appealing, it is interesting to note that the group’s second most popular recording, released four years later on their new label, was a subversive rewrite of their first. Following the opening chords of a funeral march, The Bobbettes killed Mr. Lee for cheating. They “shot him in the head. Boom, boom!” (The Bobbettes. “I Shot Mr. Lee”). Ironically, once the new song started gaining airplay and racking up sales—it eventually peaked at number 52 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart—the group’s former label tried to make some easy money by releasing a competing version of the original song still in its possession (Gaar 28–30).

The Bobbettes’ story is a useful introduction to the type of counter- normative lyrics and actions by girl group singers that have only recently become a subject of scholarly study. Previously, some popular music historians and feminist critics portrayed the girl groups of the 1950s and 1960s as passive artists and uncritical performers who owed their

C© 2012 Wiley Periodicals, Inc.

118 Will Stos

success and creative output to male Svengali-like producers or managers, suggesting that their body of work was reactionary and served primarily to reinforce stereotypical ideas of femininity, working within the bounds of normative concepts of girlhood and respectability (Douglas 5). More recently, however, scholars from a wide range of disciplines, including musicologists, historians, and queer theorists, have begun to reconsider the role of these artists in adolescent girls’ identity formation (Warwick; Douglas; Gaar; Cyrus; Bradby; Smith) in postwar culture and to reinterpret the value of a form of popular culture previously dismissed as “trite and politically irrelevant” (Warwick 2008, 308). As Jacqueline Warwick argues in Mitchell and Reid-Walsh’s Girl Culture: An Encyclopedia, “Girl groups and their songs were the face of girl culture at a time when notions of identity—whether on the basis of youth, race, or gender—were in upheaval, and these groups played a central role in defining girlhood for decades to come” (310).

The illumination of the extent to which the girl groups challenged dominant discourses and hegemonic ideas of girlhood is a project which, as other scholars mining the territory have noted, remains largely unfinished. To date, Warwick’s book Girl Groups, Girl Culture: Popular Music and Identity in the 1960s offers the most comprehensive review of the subject matter in a single volume and provides thoughtful insight into a variety of important analytical approaches to understanding this music in context, including examinations of vocality, instrumentation, and some of the circumstances behind its material production.4 In order to thoroughly interrogate specific examples of this music and its many component elements, Warwick focuses her work on some of the most successful girl groups and popular songs that fall within her definition of the genre. Yet, as Laurie Stras noted in her introduction to She’s So Fine: Reflections on Whiteness, Femininity, Adolescence and Class in 1960s Music, the sheer abundance of material makes omissions necessary if superficial analysis is to be avoided. In this article I attempt to contribute to this ongoing project by revealing the complexities and contestations evident within girl group music from the mid-1950s to about 1970—a period during which musicologists trace the emergence and decline of a distinctive girl group genre. To do so, I must first partially destabilize and critique Warwick’s definition of the girl group genre. Borrowing from Foucault’s genealogical approach, this critique “disturbs what was previously considered immobile; it fragments what was thought unified; [and] it shows the heterogeneity of what was imagined consistent with itself ” (147). By foregrounding situations in which the

Girl Groups 119

women who played a part in making or consuming this music challenged the role they were expected to assume—either musically or socially—this article implicitly challenges the notion that this genre should be overwhelmingly associated with normative ideas about, and ideals of, girlhood. This article is not a refutation of recent work based on Warwick’s definition.5 Rather, the present study is designed to be a companion piece to analyses of some of the more familiar records and performers associated with girl group music. In re-evaluating some important records and groups, and uncovering heretofore undocumented examples of songs that are genre-defying, my analysis in this article tries to underscore the fluidity of girl group music and contribute to a growing body of literature that locates this music as part of the cultural basis from which second-wave feminism, and its backlash, emerged.

The Constraints of the “Girl Group Genre” In Girl Groups, Girl Culture, Warwick defines the girl group genre

as having the following key elements:

a lyrical emphasis on the concerns and interests of teenage girls in its lyrics (i.e., boys, the strictness of parents, etc.); material prepared for the most part by professional songwriters; origins in the recording studio and dependent upon professional session musicians; an instrumental sound often dominated by orchestral instruments rather than the minimal rock’n’roll band lineup of guitar, bass guitar, and drum kit; and, above all, the audibly adolescent voices of girls interacting in dialogues between lead and backing vocalists whose voices are distinctly female and adolescent. (ix)

She notes that while nominally solo artists such as Lesley Gore or Little Eva would thus qualify as girl group artists, all-female bands such as The Liverbirds or Goldie and The Gingerbreads would not because they were “self-contained units of instrumentalists/songwriters/singers and also because they did not present identities understood strictly as adolescent” (ix). Warwick’s definition has subsequently been used by Stras in her introduction to She’s So Fine, and in Warwick’s own contribution to that edited collection. Stras, in a statement that calls to mind Associate Justice of the Supreme Court Potter Stewart’s famous line about defining hard-core pornography, notes, “although we may not have thought before about precisely what a girl group is, we nonetheless recognize one when we see or hear one . . .” (3).

120 Will Stos

While the parameters of a genre provide unifying elements, critical direction, and analytic consistency, they can also stifle or obscure contestations of the genre from artists operating from within its borders— especially when analysis is expanded to include some less celebrated songs. In short, we might not always know a girl group when we see or hear it, or at the very least, we might be surprised by some of what we hear or see. In this article I cite numerous examples of lyrics that substantially broaden conventional assumptions about the concerns and interests of teenage girls, and that challenge or subvert normative and expected standards. Moreover, I argue that although Warwick is correct in her assertion that many of these groups relied on producers or professional songwriters for their material, lyrics in girl group songs that challenged conventional notions of girlhood were often written by these girls themselves or by other young female songwriters. The primary focus on lyrics in this article is born mostly out of spatial limitations; however, the literal and implied power of lyrics also offers a site to begin evaluating the dialogue between performer and audience.6

Although Warwick mentions high-fidelity studio production value, session musicians, and orchestral accompaniment as characteristics of these songs, this lush instrumentation was sometimes at odds with the songs’ lyrical content. Furthermore, songs released by smaller independent labels often had minimal production values that were similar to some rock songs.7

Finally, although a thorough discussion of all audible elements in these songs is not possible within the confines of this study, Warwick’s contention that girl group music contains “audibly adolescent voices” is also one that can be problematic. For example, one solo artist considered to be part of the girl group genre during its initial popularity, and in some subsequent remembrances, was anything but adolescent at the time she was making hit records. Sue Thompson was 39 years old when “Paper Tiger,” her final significant pop hit, appeared on the radio in 1965—three times the age of the adolescent girls to whom she was presumably singing, and for whom she was mistaken. Numerous other girl groups continued to be identified with the genre as their members reached their 20s, including some of the most recognizable names within the genre, including The Shirelles, The Chiffons, and The Ronettes. Clearly, adolescent-sounding vocals neither require actual adolescents for production purposes nor did all adolescent girls necessarily “sound” the way some audiences would have anticipated. As Patricia Juliana Smith notes in The Queer Sixties, Dusty Springfield’s voice was mistaken for that of a young black man by some people, just as some male singers who used a gospel falsetto could be mistaken for

Girl Groups 121

girls (107). Thus, many of the constituent elements that contributed to this definition of the girl group genre assume a sort of audible normalization of adolescence, femininity, whiteness, and class identity which girl groups often challenged, both lyrically and in life.

As I noted earlier, the medium could serve as a camouflage. By concentrating analysis on the most popular girl group acts—ones whose popularity may have led to television appearances, coverage in teen magazines, extensive in-person touring, and professional choreography and etiquette lessons—scholars may have unintentionally promoted the notion that all these performers had multiple platforms from which to present their identities.8 On the contrary, even performers whose records made an impression on local or national charts may not have had the opportunity to establish full, multimedia public identities. Girl group history is replete with instances in which performers’ identities were concealed to make their product more appealing to a wide audience or easier for studio producers to make.9 The Marvelettes’ and The Chantels’ early albums did not contain photos of the groups in order to hide their blackness; groups belonging to the Motown and Philles labels routinely found their names on records featuring other vocalists or additional vocalists; and the entire line-up of groups such as The Ikettes and The Raindrops were sometimes replaced by other singers during tours without any indication that the vast majority of the audience could tell the difference. Thus, broad, universalizing statements about the identities exuded by various performers must be tempered by evidence that suggests these public identities were subject to some substantial limitations. This study makes a case for understanding the girl group genre as an ideal, a norm, and a stereotype which industry forces created and promoted, but not one that all girls (either performers or audience) accepted uncritically. By delving deeper into a wider pool of material than that usually associated with the girl group genre, we can find that feminist rhetoric, transgendered fantasies, same-sex relationships, interracial and interclass romance, leftist and pacifist protest, murder, physical abuse, consensual premarital sex, teenage pregnancy, and date-rape were all subjects that were addressed in lyrics. Moreover, although their target audiences would rarely have knowledge of the material conditions in which songs were produced, members of these groups sometimes acted in ways that clearly demonstrated agency and opposition to how they, as physical embodiments of a genre that promoted a type of idealized femininity, were expected to behave.10

Placing these songs and groups within the context of mainstream American public opinion of the time suggests that the issues and situations present

122 Will Stos

in these creations (and in their production) challenged normative standards and, at times, subverted the concept of the idealized girl. Not all these records attained the same degree of commercial success as the more common and celebrated songs about longing to get married, depending on male protection, or falling in love with a boy (Warwick 2007, 44); yet the notable success of some of the racier songs reveals that the target audience was exposed to some of these ideas through radio broadcasts, hearing the music on jukeboxes or dances, or by bringing these records into their own homes. These numerous exceptions must, therefore, be considered as a critical mass that has a bearing on the genre as a whole. Consequently, they must also be understood as a challenge to the stability and continual reconstitution of the concept of normative, idealized girlhood. As Frances Gateward and Murray Pomerance note in their edited collection Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice: Cinemas of Girlhood, “It is the girl who is the most profound site of patriarchal investment, her unconstrained freedom representing the most fearsome threat to male control” (13).

If emerging feminist scholarship is correct in its assessment that girl groups were an integral part of girl culture at this time, it would behoove scholars to examine and re-evaluate the limits of the genre, to seek out additional evidence of contestations of gender norms and resistance in the face of male oppression, and to illuminate the counter-normative side of a form of music that has long been associated with hegemonic representations of girls and girlhood. The complexities and contradictions present within girl group music offer a portal into the project of discursively and materially constituting girls, as well as the efforts to subvert normativity, and this can best be understood by both looking at, and beyond, the most commercially successful girl group records. Thus, I encourage scholars to consider girl group music as a site at which a critical feminist method can meet a redemptive approach.11 This genre provides ample material for analysis of the barriers women face within the industry, as well as how they could still operate within these barriers, demonstrating agency and creating material that audiences could read in unintended ways (Toynbee 343).

The Idealized Girl in Late Postwar America In her popular and groundbreaking work on the influence of mass

media culture on baby boomers, cultural studies scholar Susan Douglas suggests that young women of the 1950s and 1960s were bombarded with messages that constructed society’s idea of the ideal woman. She writes:

Girl Groups 123

What we do get to see plenty of from our collective past is blank-eyed blondes in shirtwaist dresses and crinolines and, later, miniskirts and hip huggers, who served others, who wore high heels and smiles while they vacuumed, who had breasts the size of medicine balls and thighs the size of Tweety Pie’s, and who never knew as much as Dad, or even Mr. Ed. Unlike popular culture featuring boys, the major impact of kitsch for girls was supposedly reactionary, not subversive: it urged us to be as domestic as June Cleaver, as buxom and dumb as Elly Mae Clampett, and as removed from politics as Lily Munster. There is a crucial contradiction here: baby boom culture for girls didn’t matter at all, yet it mattered very much. It was laughable and historically insignificant, but at the same time, it was a dangerous and all too powerful enforcer of suffocating sex-role stereotypes. (6)

A girl during this period, then, was feminized and sexualized for the male gaze, yet not permitted to control and express her own sexuality independently. She was destined for domestic life where she would be the subordinate of a man in a heterosexual relationship whom she would undoubtedly venerate in marriage. She was expected to be innocent, obedient, deferential to male authority, apolitical, and domestically inclined—a passive partner in marriage and society. The absence of the mention of race does not mean that the idealized girl was unraced, however: of course whiteness was a key, but unstated, component of normative girlhood.

A cursory examination of some popular girl group records from this period finds additional mass culture support for this idealized girl. The Cookies sang “I’m everything a girl should be now/ 36–24-35!” (“Girls Grow Up Faster Than Boys”). Little Peggy March vowed to follow her man wherever he went because “he is [her] destiny” (“I Will Follow Him”). And when Marcie Blaine was asked what she wanted to be, now that she wasn’t a kid anymore, she told everyone proudly, “I want to be Bobby’s girl/That’s the most important thing to me” (“Bobby’s Girl”). Taken at face value, these records and many others like them were part of a process that socialized girls to strive for the ideals of heterosexual love, matrimony, and domestic life in 1950s and 1960s; and, in all fairness, many girl group records did reinforce the desirability of these options.12 However, a deeper examination of the girl group genre reveals that not all these records were uniformly supportive of the norm.

124 Will Stos

Independent and Defiant, or Submissive and Quiescent? Lesley Gore’s early recordings offer evidence to support the idea

that young women were hearing contradictory messages and consuming some subversive creations that featured subjects struggling with hetero- normative femininity. Gore, a white, middle-class, Jewish teenager who first came to prominence with her number one single “It’s My Party,” scored her second-biggest chart hit in early 1964 with “You Don’t Own Me,” a feminist recording that challenged a girl’s submissive role in a relationship and indicated her desire to play the field. Gore sang in a meaningfully minor key,13

You don’t own me I’m not just one of your many toys You don’t own me Don’t say I can’t go with other boys And don’t tell me what to do And don’t tell me what to say And please, when I go out with you Don’t put me on display.

This declaration of freedom and independence is echoed in some other girl group records of the time. Dionne Warwick’s first solo release in 1962, “Don’t Make Me Over,” featured feminist lyrics, in which the singer demands that her lover accept her for who she is and for what she does. The song’s title was lifted from Warwick’s own angry words from an argument she had with songwriters Burt Bacharach and Hal David over material that had originally been earmarked for her, which she believed had been given away (Emerson 174). Although the inspiration for the song had come from a savvy young female singer who was standing up for her professional development and some of the song lyrics clearly demand respect from a lover, ironically other elements of the song fall back on the conventional girl group trope of male-dominated heterosexual coupling. Warwick sings: “Don’t make me over/ now that I’d do anything for you,” and later pleads “don’t make me over/ now that you’ve got me at your command” (“Don’t Make Me Over”). The tension within this song’s lyrics can be seen as a microcosm of the larger genre, in which girlhood and the role of women in society were habitually contested.

Honey Love and the Love Notes’ “Mary Ann” more forcefully rejected a controlling man. The lead singer tells her audience:

Girl Groups 125

My boyfriend says that I shouldn’t go Anyplace unless he tells me so Won’t let me wear my hair up high Got to find me another guy ’Cause he says “Mary Ann too much make-up! Mary Ann too much make-up!” . . . I won’t change my make-up . . . Don’t care if we break up.14

Gore recorded another single in 1964 titled “Sometimes I Wish I Were a Boy,” in which she fantasizes about being a boy and having the concomitant masculine privileges. Although she reassures her audience that she’s “a girl and it’s wonderful/ it fills [her] heart with joy,” liner note author Don Charles argues that “the very idea of girls wanting to be boys in order to pursue other boys romantically must certainly have made radio programmers nervous!” (17).

These songs, which explicitly noted the double standards faced by women and offered either defiance or gender-bending as strategies of resistance, were followed by recordings that put Gore firmly back in a subordinate position in a relationship.15 In “That’s the Way Boys Are,” she makes excuses for her boyfriend’s inappropriate glances at other girls and his physical abuse, while in “Maybe I Know” she explains that her boy has been untrue, but that she is powerless to do anything about it. Despite alternating between songs that offer messages of empowerment and those that stress a girl’s subordinate role in relationships, quite possibly due to her reliance on songwriters and producers for material, Gore supplied her audience with lyrical contestations of hegemonic gender roles.16 Moreover, despite Gore’s vacillations between stirring independence and obedient submission, she was able to play with the good girl/bad girl (madonna/whore) dichotomy, which has been one of the dominant means of characterizing femininity in Western representational practices. Gore’s squeaky-clean, sweet, middle-class image permitted her to speak out from a secure position, introduce counter-hegemonic ideas, while retaining her femininity and respectability. In her article on the girl group image, scholar Cynthia Cyrus argues that the girl group sound “is not a feminist, independence- oriented genre” (190). Although she may be correct that explicit feminist messages were not a central facet of most girl group songs, exceptions, such as Gore, suggest the genre was not uniformly apolitical and antifeminist either.

126 Will Stos

Same-Sex Relationships: Expressions of Desire and Group Empowerment Gore’s contribution to a musical debate over a woman’s “proper”

or “respectable” place in a heterosexual relationship would not be put into practice in her own romantic life, as she subsequently identified herself as a lesbian (Swartz, “Interview with Lesley Gore”). Several other girl groups would construct narratives featuring same-sex relationships, homosociality, or introspective lyrics hinting at the challenges of being a lesbian. The Jaynetts’ pop hit, which made the pop charts at number two, “Sally Go Round the Roses,” has been interpreted by some popular culture historians and musicologists as a song about a lesbian relationship.17 In this song The Jaynetts tell Sally to be careful and not to go downtown, because “the saddest thing in the whole wide world/ is to see your baby with another girl.” The group suggest to Sally that the roses “won’t tell her secrets,” and that she can “sit and cry where the roses grow/ sit and cry not a soul will know.” Although academic Patricia Juliana Smith argues in her article “Ask Any Girl” that girl group culture was centered around the idea of compulsory heterosexuality, this song’s nongendered use of the endearing term “baby,” its hypnotic beat, the slow rise and fall of the recording’s volume, and its imagery of flowers in what could be a Georgia O’Keefe-like reference to female anatomy, certainly raise the possibility of same-sex desire in a song marketed to young female record-buyers.18 A follow-up record, much in the same vein, continued the metaphor and mysterious lyrics that lacked gender specificity. In “Cry Behind the Daisies,” the group sings “don’t you let anyone see you cry/ Keep your secrets to yourself/ Hope your lover tells no one else/ You can go cry behind the daisies.”

In another subtle example of a same-sex relationship found in a girl group record, Donna Lynn ends a relationship with a boy she has been dating and tells him not to bother trying to win her back because she’d “much rather be with the girls than be with [him]” (“I’d Much Rather Be with the Girls”). In her study of girl culture through girl group music and performance, Warwick has noted that the song was originally written by Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones and his manager Andrew Loog Oldham as “I’d Much Rather Be with the Boys.” Noting the band did not release the song themselves, Warwick speculates that it was “perhaps because the unabashed celebration of homosociality seemed too risky for a group determined to assert their identity as sexually dangerous bad boys” (201). Warwick reads Lynn’s version as “a girl’s stirring declaration of independence” (201), but refrains from raising the possibility that Lynn has sworn off men permanently. When Lynn sings “Don’t try to call me/ cause

Girl Groups 127

now I know the score/ and now I know that I don’t need you anymore” [my emphasis], it is arguable that this homosociality, as Rictor Norton has wittily noted, “is little more than homosexuality with a fig leaf” (8). As Smith and others have demonstrated in The Queer Sixties, identifying “figments” of queer iconography in popular culture from the 1960s grants scholars a greater understanding of “what queer identity may be when no more tangible models are available” (xx).

Going All The Way: Premarital Sex and Its Consequences Material that remained within a heteronormative framework some-

times also pushed the standards and limits of respectability for young women by discussing explicit sexual activity, racial integration, and class restrictions. The first number one pop single by a girl group, The Shirelles’ 1961 “Will You Love Me Tomorrow,” tackled the controversial topic of premarital sex. Such a frank expression of what was still largely considered inappropriate sexual behavior for a girl was, in itself, a striking challenge to the hegemonic ideals of girlhood and one that has been noted by several academics and popular historians as a cultural precursor to the 1960s women’s movement in America, and an influence on some second-wave feminists.19 As Mitchell and Reid-Walsh note, in spite of the subject matter, the girlish vocals and symphonic instrumentation clearly indicated that this discussion of sexuality was substantially different from what rougher female blues singers were offering. They contend, “The Shirelles made it possible for ‘nice’ girls to talk about sex without upsetting society’s view of them as wholesome and respectable” (Mitchell and Reid Walsh 308). Nevertheless, these scholars and writers have missed an important element that complicates this example. Written by husband and wife songwriting team Gerry Goffin and Carole King, the song’s lyrics (written by Goffin) put the girl in a position of vulnerability.20 In the narrative of the song the sexual act is taking place (or has taken place), and the singer, who is asking for validation from her lover, wonders if she made the right choice. In contrast, in The Shirelles’ previous hit single, “Tonight’s the Night,” lead singer Shirley Alston has yet to make up her mind about sex, and is carefully weighing her options and their consequences. Alston, still a teenager at the time, wrote the lyrics to this song and confidently asserted her right to choose in a manner that is missing in the much-celebrated “Will You Love Me Tomorrow.”

Discussions of premarital sexual experiences can also be found in Reparata and the Delrons’ “I’m Nobody’s Baby Now,” The Wooden Nickels’

128 Will Stos

“Should I Give My Love Tonight,” Evie Sands’ “Angel of the Morning,” Babbity Blue’s “Don’t Make Me (Fall in Love with You),” and in The Utopias’ “Sally Bad.” Lead singer Reparata sounds emotionally distraught and on the verge of tears as she sings about the end of her first romantic relationship, having lost “the only boy [she’s] ever known/ the only boy [she’s] ever shown [her] love to.” The Wooden Nickels, singing in unison, echo The Shirelles as they wonder whether giving their love tonight will bring them sorrow tomorrow. Although the group firmly asserts that they want love that will last long after that night, the singers admit a certain amount of sexual anticipation as they are “longing for tonight.” Evie Sands’ original version of the well-known “Angel of the Morning” features the singer telling her potential lover “I see no need to take me home. I’m old enough to face the dawn.” On the other hand, Babbity Blue attempts to fend off a potential suitor, singing “I’m such a young girl/ don’t make me/ I don’t want to/ don’t make me/ I’m not ready to give my love to you.” Blue explains that although her heart says go, she says no, “it’s just not right.” Although these lyrics could be seen to be an indictment of premarital sex, they position the girl as independent, and insistent on her right to choose when to engage in sex when confronted with a persistent male voice that sings, “Come on, baby, baby.” In “Sally Bad,” the lead singer of The Utopias defends herself against accusations that she is somehow bad for going all the way and then breaking up with her boyfriend. Although this song may serve as a morality play warning of the dangers of engaging in premarital sex—in that it can ruin a girl’s reputation—the lead singer tells listeners: “Yes I’m Sally/ but I’m not bad/ He told me he loved me/ He said it wasn’t wrong/ He loved me that night/ I’m not bad.” Sixteen-year-old “Sally” suggests that although she might harbor some regrets over having sex before marriage with a boy who promptly left her, engaging in the act itself was not wrong, and should not leave her with a bad reputation since she was in love. It can also be read as a girl reproaching a boy who has taken advantage of her and implicitly comments on operative double standards about sex. With the birth control pill becoming available—though not yet easily accessible for most young women—and the call for “free love” growing louder by the close of the decade, these songs provided young women with growing evidence that their peers were experimenting with premarital sex and did not necessarily consider themselves immoral for doing so.

Unplanned pregnancies, which sometimes resulted from these sexual encounters, were also subject matter for some girl group records. In the most famous example, Diana Ross and The Supremes’ number one hit

Girl Groups 129

“Love Child,” Ross describes her own troubled youth as someone who “had no name” to a partner who is encouraging her to have sex. She tells him “don’t think that I don’t need you/ don’t think I don’t want to please you/ but no child of mine will be wearing/ the name of shame I’ve been wearing.”21 Similarly, the narrative of The Lovelites’ “How Can I Tell My Mom and Dad,” a song co-written by lead singer Patricia Hamilton, details a young girl’s dilemma after she is left by the father of her unborn child. With backing vocals warning “no, no” as she considers getting an illegal abortion or running away, Hamilton agonizes over how she can explain her predicament to her parents. In an article on musicology and semiotics in On Record, Barbara Bradby notes that the familiar call and response structure of many girl group songs is often an implicit expression of a mother–daughter relationship, although the chorus can also serve the purpose of a group of girlfriends or the lead singer’s conscience offering support, advice, or scorn (363). In “How Can I Tell My Mom and Dad,” Hamilton asks a series of questions which seem rhetorical but are in fact answered by the chorus.

Should I go up to mama And say “guess what I done”? (No, no) Or disappear in the night And let them notice I’m gone? (No, no) Should I go out and do Something I wouldn’t want to? (No, no) Or should I stand up like a big girl And tell them about me and you?

Although the subtle suggestion of an abortion is downplayed by both the lead vocals and the chorus, it is still raised as a possible solution to her unwanted pregnancy. By the end of this song Hamilton has not conclusively decided what she will do about her dilemma. As surprising as it is to find premarital sex, unplanned pregnancies, and abortions as subject matter for commercial pop songs marketed toward middle-class girls who were supposed to preserve their virginity until marriage, various autobiographies of the young women in these groups reveal that some of them—and undoubtedly the girls in their audience—had experienced these very situations.22

Politically and Socially Conscious Pop Songs In addition to recording songs that discussed the anticipation and

concerns young women had about engaging in premarital heterosexual

130 Will Stos

activity, other artists recorded songs or made political statements ranging from comments about the intolerance of difference in mainstream culture to indictments of racial or class inequality. In some cases, standard tropes found in popular girl group songs, such as declarations of love for a boy, were modified to include larger challenges to society or disapproving authority figures. The Crystals’ number one hit from 1962, “He’s a Rebel,” features lead singer Darlene Love expressing her love for a rebellious boy who’s “not just one of the crowd,” by declaring “if they don’t like him that way/ they won’t like me after today/ I’ll be standing right by his side.” “Chico’s Girl,” a song written by Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil, and recorded by both The Crystals and a group called The Girls (though unreleased at the time by the former) contains a similar message: a rebel who lives in a tough neighborhood and holds membership in a street gang for protection is actually a tender and misunderstood boy who treats the lead singer well. In 1965 Bonnie and the Treasures and Jody Miller recorded and released competing versions of another of Mann and Weil’s songs, which challenged society’s rejection of people who went against the grain, “Home of the Brave.” In this song, the lyrics not only take aim at an intolerant community (“The school board won’t let him come to school no more/ unless he wears his hair like he wore it before/ The PTA and all of the mothers say he ought to look like the others . . . He’s not like them and they can’t ignore it/ so they all hate him for it . . . He’s just a little bit different/ Tell me why that’s so wrong?/ Instead of all the trouble they hand him/ why don’t they try to understand him?”) but also the hypocrisy of a country that supposedly values freedom, yet condemns nonconformity.23 “Home of the Brave, land of the free/ Oh why won’t they let him be what he wants to be?” the chorus asks of the audience, perhaps challenging the young women (and men) who bought the record to consider larger issues of freedom and social justice.24

During an era in which protest songs by Bob Dylan, Peter, Paul, and Mary, and Barry McGuire were crossing over to the pop charts, girl group duo Diane and Anita recorded the politically charged song “One by One” in 1965. The song describes how youth can be easily corrupted by society and tackles several instances of racial prejudice and forced conformity. The lyrics lament that, “A little boy in blue jeans/ first at follow the leader [was] always last in the classroom/ asking questions ‘they’ can’t answer/ And so they do their best/ to make him like the rest/ to pass their test.” In another verse the duo sing, “A little girl in ribbons/ bright-eyed and full of lovin’/ But by the time she’s seven / she’s told that she is different/ And by the time she’s eight/ she’s learned to hate/ now ain’t that great?”

Girl Groups 131

The pair conclude the song by asking, “Where will our leaders come from?/ What’ll become of those who are different?/ What would life be without beauty?/ Where would we be without dreamers?/ Answer me why just a few make it through?/ Why can’t others too?” Whereas other singers who recorded anti-establishment songs tended to come from a counter-culture background associated with folk, Diane and Anita were unabashedly pop in the girl group style. Like The Shirelles’ earlier recordings, Diane and Anita’s rebellious lyrics stand in stark contrast to the orchestral instrumentation and the girls’ angelic background voices—it is a dissonance that characterizes much of the subversive music in this genre, and which permitted the performers to retain respectability while simultaneously suggesting counter- normative ideas.

Formerly a member of The Ronettes, Estelle Bennett’s first solo recording, “In the Year 2000,” employs this musical dissonance to great effect in a fatalistic song that foretells a future of nuclear holocaust if humankind does not change its ways. Musically similar to The Shangri-Las’ well-known half-spoken, half-sung works, the song begins with background singers quoting from the Book of Genesis: “In the beginning/ He created the heavens and the earth/ And He said/ let Us create man in Our own image/ And He blessed them.” Bennett then proceeds to describe a world finally at peace now that 50 billion people are deceased. Sung in a disturbingly soft and harmonious manner, the song also splices in sound bites from a speech by Adolf Hitler inciting a Nazi audience and concludes with a fake radio broadcast alert notifying radio listeners that “the nuclear war has begun/ Nations are bombing nations/ Soon the world will be at peace/ for all will be dead.” Although the song is similar to experimental, postmodern rock employed in political protest,25 Bennett’s bona fide girl group lineup and the backing vocalists’ girlish harmonies indicate that this recording, if somewhat genre-defying, is a blood relative of the girl group sound, which had grown increasingly complex and diverse as the 1960s progressed.26

In a much more optimistic song, black girl group The Superbs express the late 1960s hippie ideals of peace and love in “The Dawning of Love,” while also touching on the civil rights movement and the ongoing battles against racism in society. Musically echoing The Supremes’ records of the time, the socially conscious lead singer explains in the song:

For [hundreds of] years or more My people, they were slaves Working their fingers to the bone

132 Will Stos

Till they reach their early grave And it took black and white together To bring us this far And it’s going to take black and white together To snap that hatred bar . . . If wise men would stop And listen to the young We’re only trying to tell you That a change is going to come.

Released several years after the girl group sound had commercially peaked, the single still managed to reach the Top 50 on soul charts. The song’s call to action, and its explicit support of protests as a means of effecting social change stand in polar opposition to the docile and politically disinterested image with which 1950s and 1960s girl group music is most frequently associated. Although this characterization may not be reflective of a substantial amount of the material these groups recorded, nostalgia has done much to sanitize the subversive social, political, and cultural elements that were a minor, yet still significant, part of this genre.

Race and Class Discussions Racism’s impact on the realm of private romantic relationships

also prompted a musical response from girl groups. In the provocative ballad “Stay with Your Own Kind,” written by Kay and Helen Lewis, two white members of the Motown girl group The Lewis Sisters, black singer Patrice Holloway described an interracial romance and made statements that challenged the bigotry and racism of some elements in society. She sings,

People say I’m not for you My skin is brown And when they look at me I see them looking down But who are they to tell us What are they thinking of? Are they too blind to see That you and I are so much in love?

Holloway’s tortured voice reveals that the personal is certainly political in the matter of interracial love. When she notes, “They beg you not to see me/

Girl Groups 133

“There’s too much at stake”/But their words are empty/ and their pale words fake,” Holloway challenges the racist fears of miscegenation, while revealing that they nonetheless remain a threat to the lovers’ nascent relationship. Several members of girl groups engaged in interracial relationships during this period, and their memoirs and biographies include passages that reveal the challenges they experienced as they stepped out of the racially segregated, normative bounds of girlhood.27

Performers spoke out not only against the racial inequality they experienced, but also that which they witnessed. Following a tour of apartheid South Africa, two members of The Supremes told the American press they were offended by officials in the Cape who called them “honorary whites,” and that they refused to return to that country (Wilson and Romanowski 186). In the early 1960s, Delores “La La” Brooks, the young lead singer of The Crystals, refused to sign autographs for white fans when touring parts of the United States where segregation was still enforced. “I said, if I can’t go to their bathrooms, then why should they have my autograph?” she recalled in an interview later (Farber 2). In 1964, shortly after scoring her first few solo hits, white English pop singer Dusty Springfield (whose work at the time shared elements with the girl group genre) infuriated the South African government by inserting a clause in her contract stating that she would only perform to integrated audiences. An admirer of black cultures and politically liberal, Springfield not only refused repeated requests by officials to perform to racially homogenous crowds, but also refused to take the stage until she was satisfied an audience was thoroughly integrated (Valentine and Wickham 59–64). Springfield’s actions resulted in the South African government’s announcement that they would more closely review contracts of visiting artists, which prompted other supportive British artists to adhere to a touring boycott, and provides yet another example of these female artists taking political positions and challenging men in positions of authority.28

A further example of girl groups breaking the hegemonic norms of the period is the variety of song lyrics, which explored socio-economic power relations and celebrated romances between couples from different economic and social classes. “Uptown” has been described as one of the first sociological songs by its cowriter Cynthia Weil (Brown 93). Performed by The Crystals, the lyrics tell the story of a girl’s boyfriend who “gets up each morning and . . . goes downtown, where everyone’s his boss and he’s lost in an angry land, he’s a little man.” While downtown the man “is just one of a million guys/ He don’t get no breaks /but he takes all they’ve

134 Will Stos

got to give/ cause he’s got to live.” When he returns to the lead singer’s uptown tenement, however, her love ensures that “he’s tall/ he don’t crawl/ he’s a king.” According to Ken Emerson’s study of the early 1960s New York songwriting scene, Always Magic In The Air: The Bomp and Brilliance of the Brill Building Era, the song drew inspiration from the Broadway musical West Side Story and Weil’s own experience living and working in the heart of an American metropolis. “One day Weil saw a handsome African American pushing a hand truck in the Garment District,” Emerson recounts. “Downtown, she reflected, this black man was a nobody, but he enjoyed an identity and dignity uptown when he went home at the end of the working day” (135). Musically the song alternates between tense and jarring staccato notes and a triumphant harmony, as the lead singer describes life in two very different parts of the city. The “angry land” was a place of racial injustice and working-class struggle against an uncaring capitalist class. Though very much an urban story, the song’s ascent into the national Top 20 suggests record buyers could sympathize with its message, even if not entirely identifying with its protagonists.

Although the genre crossed normative boundaries of some aspects of culture only occasionally, songs that positively portrayed interclass romance were quite common, and most often the girl singing the song was in a position of privilege.29 In “People Will Talk,” The Calendar Girls’ Jean Thomas consoles a boyfriend who may be embarrassed that he can’t afford to buy her “pretty things” by suggesting that she does not care what society may say about their relationship. She sings “Just because you’re poor/ they think that you/ can never make me happy/ They say you/ don’t have the right/ to go with me/ But can’t you see that talk is cheap?” The singer bravely asks, “Why should we hide our faces/ and meet in smoky places?/ Let all their words, my lover,/ go in one ear and out the other.” The Secrets, a white, middle-class group from the Midwest, sang a similarly themed song called “The Other Side of Town,” in which they state triumphantly that the object of their affection may be poor, but they don’t care. Following the success of their Top 20 hit, “The Boy Next Door,” an ode to finding love close to home, “The Other Side of Town” explicitly notes that class considerations are paramount for other people. “Everybody says that he’s no good,” Karen Cipriani reveals, “Why can’t you go with someone/ from your own neighborhood?” Nevertheless, as the song ends she confirms, “He’s not the boy next door/ I love him even more!” In most cases, these songs featured a girl lamenting class difference, insisting that it should not matter and calling upon the cliché that true love conquers all. However, in The Toys’ “Silver

Girl Groups 135

Spoon,” the privileged girl sadly concedes that love affairs that attempt to transcend class lines sometimes fail. “Silver spoon/ he found you much too soon,” lead singer Barbara Harris ruefully sings. “His love came not from passion/ poor boys find love too old fashioned . . . I eat with and compete with/ you my silver spoon.” Gold-digging boyfriends notwithstanding, these songs routinely portrayed actions and situations deemed to be outside the normative bounds of acceptable behavior for teenage girls in this era.

Military Men: From Groupies to Widows The war in Vietnam, which exacerbated race and class strife in the

United States during much of the 1960s, was another controversial topic broached by several girl group acts. Girl groups had regularly identified military men as objects of affection during the genre’s initial rise to prominence. The Shirelles scored their second number one hit single in 1962 with “Soldier Boy,” a song that spelled out a girl’s unconditional love for her man in uniform, no matter how far away he was; Diane Renay, who released consecutive Top 30 hits with “Navy Blue,” and “Kiss Me Sailor,” described her joy at spending time with her nautical beau while he was on 48-hour shore leave; and The Supremes’ very first chart record, “Your Heart Belongs to Me,” featured Diana Ross telling her military lover that she wouldn’t mind if he gave other girls the eye or smiled at them while he was “serving (his) country/ in some far away land” as long as he remembered that his heart belonged to her. These songs, and others like them, were always either expressions of joy at the thought of a boyfriend returning home, or of longing to be with a loved one far away. None of the songs mentioned the potential danger the servicemen faced while serving, or whether their mission was just. Instead, the lyrics simply described a typical, if long-distance, heterosexual romance.

As the Vietnamese War escalated and casualties mounted, some girl group songs began to hint at the human cost of the war. In early 1965, British girl group The Orchids, performing under the pseudonym The Exceptions, recorded a song written by lead singer Georgina Oliver, which offered an early glimpse at the growing complexity of this thematic subgenre. “Soldier Boy,” not to be confused with The Shirelles’ song of the same name, describes a girl bidding her boyfriend farewell as he leaves for war. At the song’s conclusion Oliver sings,

136 Will Stos

A letter came today That letter broke my heart And though he’s far away We’ll never be apart March, march, march little soldier boy In my dreams we still share the joy He’s gone March on.

The Shangri-Las, well known for their propensity to sing songs featuring death, covered similar terrain in their 1966 hit “Long Live Our Love.” In it, lead singer Mary Weiss proposes a toast to Johnny, who has been taken far away by the war and urges him not to worry because he remains in her heart. In a similar fashion to The Crystals’ “Uptown,” “Long Live Our Love” alternates between the joyous (“here’s a toast to happiness/ long live our love,”) and the somber. At the very beginning and end of the song, the background vocalists sing a riff from the famous war ballad “When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again,” with such gravity that it is clear they are wondering if Johnny would ever come marching home again.

As the war dragged on, other girl group records took direct aim at the military–industrial complex and the senselessness of the conflict. In 1968, a white group called Honey Ltd. released their debut album with an antiwar song as its opening track. “The Warrior” told the story of a woman’s partner leaving for war. The lead singer explains

His country has called him In a time of desperate need We must kill more people Strong men are what we need We need the warriors We need the warriors And it’s good, it’s good Come on people say it’s good Oh God, it’s so good.

Although one might mistake the seeming bloodlust in the vocal delivery during certain lines of the song as encouragement for the military’s aims, the lyrics make clear the futility and pointlessness of the fighting. As the song concludes, listeners hear that the soldier’s body is being lowered into the grave while the lead singer and her son grieve. Still, she notes that when

Girl Groups 137

the boy is older his country will undoubtedly call for him to serve and sacrifice just as his father did. As Ward notes, Honey Ltd. did join a USO tour at the request of Bob Hope, who had seen them perform on a television program; however, the group was firmly opposed to the war and only agreed to perform to entertain the troops, some of whom they knew from home, and others who were compelled to serve regardless of their opposition to the war.

Although Motown Records had consciously avoided commenting on the war in its releases until comparatively late in the conflict, one of its all- female groups was the first to tackle the subject matter. Martha Reeves and the Vandellas, whose releases were still regularly in the Top 100, recorded and released the vehemently antiwar declaration “I Should Be Proud,” in 1970. A few years earlier the group had had some chart success with a single featuring the songs “I Promise to Wait My Love” and “Forget Me Not,” which mined the more conventional girl group terrain of a singer expressing hope that her soldier boyfriend would not forget her while he was serving overseas. “I Should Be Proud” replaces the sadness of bidding farewell to a loved one with intense anger at the reasons behind his untimely demise. Reeves sings,

And they say that I should be proud He was keeping me free They say that I should be proud Those too blind to see But he wasn’t fighting for me My Johnny didn’t have to die for me He was fighting for the evils of society.

Here, the arguments that the war preserved freedom and protected American life are cut down with ferocity as the girl contemplates her loss. “The whole town came to praise him/ and said how honored I should be,” Reeves continues, trying to make sense of it all. “But I don’t want no silver star/ just the good man they took from me.” The song, released months before the more well-known and commercially successful Motown protest songs “War” by Edwin Starr and “Ball of Confusion” by The Temptations, reached number 80 on Billboard’s pop chart and number 45 on the rhythm and blues chart. In her autobiography Reeves notes that the single likely failed to advance any further because some radio stations were afraid to play such a controversial song and because Motown was utilizing all its promotional muscle on its

138 Will Stos

new act, The Jackson Five (172). Nonetheless, the song underscored that protest on the pop charts was not solely the domain of folk acts and male pop and rock artists. Even if set firmly within the bounds of a heterosexual love story, which conformed to genre expectations, these songs provided a site where young women could comment on war and foreign policy. However, nostalgia tends to obscure and erase these challenges to hegemonic notions of girlhood. Songs like “Soldier Boy,” “Navy Blue,” “The Warrior,” and “I Should Be Proud” suggest young women were hearing messages that valorized the military-man archetype, but challenged the rationale behind certain military campaigns.

Bodily Harm A final general thematic area of this genre, which brought these

performers into conflict with conventional notions of respectable girlhood, dealt with violence and death closer to home. In some cases the girls were on the receiving end of physical assaults, but in others they fantasized about hurting a rival or even killing her. A well-cited example of a girl group record touching upon an area deemed inappropriate for polite conversation is The Crystals’ “He Hit Me (And It Felt Like a Kiss).” Produced by Phil Spector and written by Goffin and King, the song was purportedly inspired by a story the couple’s babysitter told them about why she was happy her boyfriend had given her a black eye. Eva Boyd, better known as Little Eva (“The Locomotion”), explained in the song that her partner would never have laid a hand on her if he did not really care for her. Immediately controversial and banned from some radio stations, the single was quickly pulled from store shelves. In some respects, this story and song could be considered indicative of the very worst stereotypes present in the girl group era: a domineering male producer picked a song with lyrics written by a man, inspired by a teenage girl’s story that condones, if not celebrates, physical abuse in the name of love. The radio audience and record buyers who listened to this song may have taken the message literally, but clues as to The Crystals’ true feelings about the song could be found by listening closely: lead singer Barbara Alston’s voice is disgusted, contemptuous, and defiant as she sings each line of the song, and the instrumental arrangement and backing vocals are moody.30

Alston told historian Alan Betrock that the group “didn’t like that one. After we cut it, we absolutely hated it. Still do” (Betrock 35). Warwick suggests that

Girl Groups 139

Alston’s distaste for it stems from the fact that it was not a pretty song and that it came about through an arduous recording session. She seems not to have felt revulsion for enacting this kind of dutiful acceptance of abuse or for promoting an understanding of beatings as loving through her performance. (67)

Warwick, who otherwise strives to inform her work with feminist analysis that values the performer’s musical contribution to a song, is surprisingly dismissive of Alston’s reaction in this instance. But, as constrictive and stifling as producers and record label owners could be, in terms of what these groups could record and how they were permitted to present and style themselves,31 the performers’ vocal delivery is one element that can be considered as a somewhat less controlled contribution to the recording process.32 As rock critic Aida Pavletich argues in her book Sirens of Song: The Popular Female Vocalist in America, even “the most bland pop singer adds an indelible stamp of her own to a song” (16). Alston’s capable, if somewhat untrained, vocal interpretation leaves little doubt as to her own opinion of the lyrics, and the venom with which she spits out the famous line, “He hit me and I was glad,” suggests she is anything but happy.

The Shangri-Las’ final Top 100 single, “Past, Present and Future,” deals with another oft-hidden aspect of a teen experience: date rape. Set to Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata,” lead singer Mary Weiss uses a somber speaking voice to tell her new romantic partner that she’d love to date him, but also warns “don’t try to touch me/ don’t try to touch me/ ’cause that will never happen again.” Although Weiss has stated in interviews that she believed this song to be about teenage insecurity (Miller), “Past, Present and Future” has been interpreted by other historians and music critics to be an account of a violent or nonconsensual sexual encounter. Whether it is about general teen insecurity or an abusive relationship, Weiss’s expression suggests she is proactively trying to protect herself from an unwanted advance.

In contrast to The Shangri-Las’ defensive posturing, some girl group records featured the subject as a physical aggressor, either in their imagination33 or in a real encounter.34 “Nightmare,” a song written and performed (under the pseudonym The Whyte Boots) by Lori Burton, features a girl recounting how she wanted to teach a rival a lesson for stealing her boyfriend. Although she states that “she didn’t want to hurt her, or anything,” Burton is egged on by her girlfriends who shout “Go on, hit

140 Will Stos

her! Pull her hair! Scratch her face!” In the end, she realizes she has killed her rival and attempts to run from the police. Songs that deal with death and murder were a popular thematic subgenre of girl group records, but rarely do the girls actually do the killing themselves. Although Burton expresses regret for her actions, in “I Shot Mr. Lee” The Bobbettes can barely contain their glee that their cheating lover met a gruesome end at their hands. In any case, these girls are not the passive, deferential, future June Cleavers of America that hegemonic mass culture is normally charged with producing. Rather, they are rebellious and violent, yet able to express their deviant behavior in a medium seemingly designed to reinforce hegemonic ideas about femininity and gender subordination. These girl group songs and records employed, and subverted, a tool of the normative socializing system.

The Complexity of Growing Up Girl The popularly constructed image of a 1950s or 1960s girl group,

which features anonymous singers wearing matching outfits, adorned in symbols of hegemonic femininity, singing lyrics that express normative desire for true heterosexual love, marriage, and domesticity is a dominant, but not entirely accurate, generalization of the girl group genre. To be sure, there are numerous examples of groups that conformed to this stereotype and perpetuated the concept of the idealized girl. However, both implicitly and explicitly subversive lyrics and actions by performers reveal a much more complex genre of music that was being both created and consumed by young women. If Pavletich is correct in positing that “the pop singer deals in language, idioms, and ideas based on values that her audience is prepared to accept” (27), scholars must note the complexity and contradictions in this genre and re-evaluate the girl groups’ role as both contributors to the development of a normative girl culture and critics of its implicit positioning and subjectification of girls. Feminist scholars have begun the task of uncovering these aspects of girl group music and culture, and popular representations such as the Oscar award-winning film Dreamgirls, loosely based on the story of The Supremes, have provided some depth to girl group characters, but there is still much work to be done in broadening public conceptions of the period.

Herbert Lee, the eponymous “Mr. Lee” from The Bobbettes’ recordings, purportedly wrote liner notes for a recent greatest hits collection based on the group’s recordings which perpetuate the original record

Girl Groups 141

company’s myth about the girls’ idolizing him. It is incumbent on feminist historians to remind Mr. Lee and other listeners that these schoolgirls could just as happily kill a man (on vinyl) as sing him a love song. Girls who were supposed to become June Cleaver also fantasized about brandishing cleavers.

Notes

1. The author would like to thank Bettina Bradbury, Marcel Martel, Molly Ladd-Taylor, Carol Stos, Cate Prichard, Stacey Alexopoulos, and the anonymous reviewer of the journal for the helpful suggestions they offered as this article was prepared and revised. Any errors or omissions are my own.

2. Billboard charts are referred to here, as this was pre-Hot 100. Billboard’s “most popular” charts and specialty charts were in use at the time.

3. When speaking of “girls” in this time period as an audience, I refer to a diverse and broad category of subjects who navigate identity against a universalizing, homogenized cultural ideal. The embodied “girl” here is thus not simply circumscribed by age and biological sex, but, as Laurie Stras writes in the introduction to She’s So Fine: Reflections on Whiteness, Femininity, Adolescence and Class in 1960s Music, also by an “overarching normality of whiteness and respectability,” and implausible or impossible standards of beauty and behavior based on income (17).

4. Warwick’s book explores these elements in chapters such as “The Emerging Girl Group Sound,” “The Voice of the Girl,” and “Record Producers and the Politics of Production,” and is strongly suggested as a source for greater context.

5. However, while there is ample evidence to support the notion that much girl group music conforms to all, or part, of Warwick’s genre criteria, she and other scholars have been careful to note there are exceptions.

6. See especially Warwick 2007, 93–94.

7. In primarily identifying songs with lyrics that appear to be genre-defying, I recognize that this foray into reinterpreting girl group music remains frustratingly incomplete. As a historian, the approach I have taken is one that critiques the universalizing discourse that has sometimes been applied to the girl group genre, and I foreground lyrical analysis. It is my hope that musicologists will take up the examples provided and further interrogate them to discover the degree to which the instrumental and vocal components of the music either reinforce or challenge my analysis. I have noted examples where emotion in performance appears to be

142 Will Stos

key to understanding the song in context, yet as Angela Davis has noted in her work Blues Legacies and Black Feminism, the originality of some material and its noteworthiness for analysis can come from either the textual message or the musical performance depending on the artist in question (xvii). I suggest this is quite applicable to girl group records. Sometimes the mere inclusion of lyrics and ideas is as important as the manner in which they are interpreted, especially given the multiple ways in which an audience can read them. Furthermore, additional exploration into the industrial dynamics of these creations is needed. We know that some performers were able to have more control in terms of content and production than others, and this was often tied to race, class, age, and level of celebrity. However, in concentrating on the most famous examples of girl group songs and specific labels, we overlook the stories of the masses of groups/songs that did not achieve a similar level of fame or popularity. In some cases the anonymity of these groups and poor recordkeeping prevent us from knowing about these conditions. Yet, the absence of this information should not be read as an indication that further examples of contestations of the genre and the expectations of girlhood did not happen.

8. The songs and performers discussed in this article run the gamut from the most famous of the girl groups (The Shirelles, The Supremes) and songs which reached the top of the charts (“Love Child,” “Sally Go Round the Roses,” “You Don’t Own Me”) to groups and songs that never charted and all manner of those in between (minor chart hits outside of the Billboard or Cashbox Top 40, songs or groups that experienced some success in regional markets or on specialist charts). This illustrates that counter-normative songs and performers, like those that more closely conformed to Warwick’s definition of the genre, were very much a part of both commercially successful girl group music and commercial failures. In the present study songs and groups were chosen on the basis of lyrics or historical accounts of performers’ actions based on an exhaustive survey of thousands of songs and extensive secondary reading of music histories and biographies touching upon girl group performers—notably the excellent historical sleuthing in liner notes by Mick Patrick, Malcolm Baumgart, Phil Milstein, and many others. The vast majority of songs cited have been reissued on compact disc compilations devoted to girl group music by companies specializing in reissues such as Ace Records, Rhino Records, and Revola Records (to name only a few) along with artist-specific projects by these labels, and others which own or leased the license rights to this work. All others were discovered through communications with girl group collectors and specialists, including, but not restricted to, the Spectropop listserv. While some scholars might critique this methodology as an ahistorical reimaging of girl group music, or one that highlights songs or artists that had limited popular appeal, I defend its value. First, it demonstrates that music which could be classified as genre-defying or counter-normative could also be commercially popular. Yet,

Girl Groups 143

in examining minor chart success and noncharting singles, we can also gain an appreciation of songs that were popular in some parts of the country, or on certain radio stations, but were absent from others. Occasionally a lower chart position on national charts disguised a song’s true appeal. For example, the staggered promotion of The Pixies Three song “Birthday Party” meant it barely charted in the Top 40, but made the Top 10 in numerous markets. Songs that failed to chart are also worthy of study as part of the larger genre. Sometimes factors conspired against their commercial success. For instance, Evie Sands’ version of “Angel of the Morning” was starting to gain traction on radio when her label, Cameo-Parkway, went bankrupt. In other cases, a song would receive some promotion and radio play but be dropped in favor of other product at the label that demonstrated more immediate appeal. Chart position aside, in his article “Towards an Aesthetic of Popular Music,” Simon Frith has noted that even the way certain trade magazines create specialist charts should be read as more of a measure of how music categorizations, and likewise, genres, were used to define people (37). In considering a genre so closely linked to defining normative behavior for an idealized girl, both commercial successes and failures thus warrant consideration. Just as countless girl group records that conform more closely to Warwick’s definition but failed to chart are taken to reify the genre, the counter-normative records which challenge it must also be considered. Exceptional as these songs may have been, they deserve inclusion in larger discussions about girl group music. This methodology is necessarily more qualitative in nature as the sheer volume of girl group music makes it difficult to measure precisely for what percentage of the total product these types of examples account.

9. By using interchangeable vocalists producers could fire performers who challenged their authority or substitute vocals if they were not available.

10. There are numerous anecdotes about performers who challenged their producers or labels to gain more control of their creative output and secure better financial terms. To cite but a few: The Marvelettes were presented with two songs written by the Motown production team Holland-Dozier-Holland. The group rejected “Where Did Our Love Go?”—a song in which a girl begged a boy not to leave her—in favor of “Too Many Fish in the Sea,” a song in which a girl obtains good advice from her mother about not wasting time on boys who do not love her or who might mistreat her. The group’s years-long streak of hit singles provided them with greater control, versus a group like the less successful (at the time) Supremes, who unenthusiastically recorded “Where Did Our Love Go?” (Dahl 117).The Cake, a mixed race, multi-ethnic teen girl group lobbied their producers to allow them to write more original material. As a result, seven of the ten tracks on the group’s second album were written or co-written by members of the group, including some that diverged substantially from a more classic girl group sound

144 Will Stos

(Campion 14). Finally, numerous performers such as The Chiffons, The Shirelles, Candy and the Kisses, and Mary Wells launched lawsuits to free themselves from restrictive contracts.

11. In her “Response” in She’s So Fine: Reflections on Whiteness, Femininity, Adolescence and Class in 1960s Music, Martha Mockus notes this is the direction current scholarship appears to be taking (Stras 235).

12. It should be noted that these records show traces of satire. Lyrics that conformed so totally to this ideal of girlhood perhaps implicitly called attention to their absurdity. However, the subtlety inherent in satire could be missed. In discussing why he declined to release the Drifters’ song “Only in America,” which featured a black group singing, ironically, about all the opportunity in the country, record producer Jerry Wexler later said he would need to hire a Harvard professor of semiotics “to go around with each record and deconstruct it for the edification of the people whose sensibilities were too blunt to appreciate the irony” (quoted in Emerson 139). More study into both audience reception of these types of records and primary source interviews with the artists performing this material is needed. From a feminist perspective this would give additional voice to the “producers” of the songs and illuminate the artists’ interpretation of the material.

13. Musically, most girl group songs were in a major key.

14. This song also includes a verse where “Mary Ann” challenges her mother’s authority. “Mama says I have to stay at home, no more talking on the telephone. No more staying out and having fun, gotta stay in til my work is done. Now she says ‘Mary Ann sweep the floor now! Mary Ann sweep the floor now!’ . . . . I won’t sweep the floor now. . . . . I’m going out the door now.” Although a strong and deferential mother–daughter or father–daughter relationship is present in numerous girl group records (e.g., The Shirelles, “Mama Said”; Cathy Saint, “Big Bad World”; The Supremes, “You Can’t Hurry Love”; The Marvelettes, “My Daddy Knows Best”), some girl group songs took issue with parental control. Kelli and the Kittens’ cooed “When you hold my hand so tight I know I’d like to stay all night. And what mama don’t know won’t hurt her” (Kelli and the Kittens, “What Mama Don’t Know Won’t Hurt Her”) The Shangri-Las’ “Give Us Your Blessings” found the lead singer and her boyfriend dead after they ran away when her parents refused to celebrate their impending marriage. The song suggests the parents will live with everlasting regret for not giving their blessings. And in Diane Renay’s “Watch Out Sally,” a girl is warned by her mother not to go out dancing with her boyfriend, Tony. She lies and tells her mother that she’s babysitting with a friend named Sue. When Tony dumps her and she misses the last bus back into town, she realizes that “just like Mama said [she’s on her own].” What initially appears to be a warning to disobedient daughters to listen to their parents’ advice is actually nothing of the sort, however. “Sally” simply finds another guy to drive her home

Girl Groups 145

and happily tells him to rev his engine, and the song ends without any apparent consequences.

15. The Shirelles’ “What Does a Girl Do?” also spoke to the inherent unfairness of notions of respectable behavior for girls. They sang, “When a boy meets a girl that he wants to get to know he just walks up to her, introduces himself, and then he tells her so. Oh, but what does a girl do when she meets someone who makes her feel the same way too? Somebody tell me, tell me, what does a girl do?” (The Shirelles, “What Does A Girl Do?”)

16. John Tosh has written about the concept of hegemonic masculinity as the dominant type of masculinity in culture among many other types (41–58). I employ the term hegemony here as outlined by Antonio Gramsci and adapt it to a gendered model along the lines of Tosh.

17. Other interpretations have postulated that the song is about a drug- related experience, suicide, or that its lyrics are an innocent nursery rhyme (Peneny; Hamilton 365).

18. Subtleties and multiple interpretations of lyrics should not be dismissed. In an age when rock’n’roll music was still viewed with intense suspicion (see for example, the congressional hearings into the lyrics of The Kingsmen’s hit single “Louie, Louie”) radio programmers and producers were mindful of the power of the words in these songs. Florence Greenburg rejected the hit song “He’s a Rebel,” for her group The Shirelles out of fear that four young black women singing a love song about a “rebel” would inflame passions in the American South (Emerson 174). Although nothing in the lyrics suggest the “rebel” in the song was linked to the Confederate rebels, Greenburg opted to pass on a song that became a number one hit. The Pixies Three’s single “The Hootch,” which was describing a brand new dance, was pulled off radio playlists for fear that it promoted liquor, as hootch was a slang word for alcohol (The Pixies Three Online). And Martha and the Vandellas’ hit single “Dancing in the Street” was banned by some radio stations when programmers suspected that “dancing in the street” was a metaphor for revolutionary protests. Reeves insisted that it was simply a “party song” (Gaar 75.)

19. In her book Girl Groups, Girl Culture, Warwick cites Douglas as one example (113). Douglas, in her feminist study of American mass media, noted, “‘Will You Love Me Tomorrow’ was about a traditional female topic, love, but it was also about female longing and desire, including sexual desire. And, most important, it was about having a choice. For these girls [i.e., The Shirelles], the decision to have sex was now a choice, and this was new. This was, in fact, revolutionary . . . what we heard were the voices of teenage girls singing about— and dignifying—our most basic concern: how to act around boys when so much seemed up for grabs” (quoted in Warwick 112).

146 Will Stos

20. Emerson reveals that male singer Tony Orlando had wanted to record the song, but music publishing magnate Don Kirshner advised against it, noting that it was “a girl’s lyric” (Emerson 90). In her book Women and Popular Music: Sexuality, Identity and Subjectivity, Sheila Whiteley notes that the sense that The Shirelles were in control of the situation is missing (224).

21. Other examples include The Cake’s “Have You Heard the News About Miss Molly.” Co-written by Carol Connors, former lead singer of The Teddy Bears, in this song a girl gets pregnant out of wedlock, then talks about the gossip surrounding her and how the town won’t accept her as a mother. In another example by the group 1984, “Baby With No Name,” the song begins with a young child repeating a chorus that the lead singer—the mother—and a female backing group would sing throughout the rest of the song: “Baby with no name, don’t make the world make you feel that I’m to blame.” Although released in 1971, there is speculation it may have been recorded in the late 1960s by singers including Estelle Bennett, formerly of The Ronettes. The progression from “Love Child” to “Baby With No Name” could be read as an indication that girls were no longer always of the opinion that having a child out of wedlock was morally wrong.

22. See, for example, nonconsensual premarital sex in Labelle and Randolph 40, and illegal abortion and unplanned pregnancy in Love and Hoerburger 142–44.

23. Elenor Barooshian of The Cake became embroiled in controversy when she wore a t-shirt with an American flag on it during an appearance on the 1967 Miss Teenage America pageant. She refused pleas by producers and subsequently her managers to remove it and she was edited out of the televised performance (Campion 14).

24. Verdelle Smith’s “Tar and Cement” is another example of a song in which a young female singer employing a girl group sound explores a larger issue facing society: ecology and sustainability. Smith’s cover of an Italian song included lyrics that address a young girl longing to leave her family and the countryside for the city to make her fortune. When she returns home after several years she “looked for the meadows, [but] there wasn’t a trace. Six lanes of highway had taken their place.” The lilacs, tall grass, and laughter of children she longed for are now gone, covered in acres and acres of tar and cement. A Top 40 hit in 1966, the song preceded several more popular and remembered ecologically themed songs such as “Big Yellow Taxi” by Joni Mitchell and “Mercy Me (The Ecology)” by Marvin Gaye.

25. The song itself was not likely ever used in a protest, but its message was distinctly political, along the lines of The Eve of Destruction by Barry McGuire, but more experimental musically.

Girl Groups 147

26. References to nuclear holocausts and fatalism also occur in more conventional girl group records. The Shirelles’ 1964 song “Doomsday” on the surface is a simple love song in which a girl tells her lover that it would be the end of the world “if you should take your love away.” However, perhaps reflecting the fears of man-made calamities in the aftermath of the Cuban missile crisis, the girl notes: “I thought I would get it [death] from a missile flying through the sky.”

27. Janis Ian was 13 years old when she composed “Society’s Child (Baby I’ve Been Thinking),” a song about interracial romance that was produced by George “Shadow” Morton in the girl group style. Ian noted the song was inspired about situations she observed in her own neighborhood. She received death threats after the song was released.

28. While it could be argued that the artists cited in these examples were popular and established stars who by virtue of fame, class, or race (in the case of Springfield) were able to challenge attitudes toward race with little threat to their long-term careers, such actions should neither be dismissed nor should their significance be diminished. Performers within girl groups such as The Crystals or even The Supremes could be replaced without much notice from casual fans or consequence in terms of sales.

29. “My Block,” by The Four Pennies, a pseudonym for The Chiffons, is a rare example of a class-oriented song in which the girl is poor and her boyfriend is privileged. The relative rarity of this storyline reinforces the notion that girl group records were targeted toward the idealized middle-class American girl. In the song, the girl describes her neighborhood as a concrete jungle where strangers should not walk alone at night. Although she attempts to hide her modest background from her suitor by leading him to believe that she lives in a better part of town, ultimately love conquers socioeconomic differences and the boy readily accepts the girl for who she is (Cyrus, 187).

30. A cover version of the song on an album by white pop singer Jody Miller a few years later stands in sharp contrast. This arrangement is bouncy and almost joyous; Miller sings as if she is delighted at what has transpired (Jody Miller, “He Hit Me”).

31. Cyrus cites Charlotte Grieg’s interview with Dee Dee Kennibrew of The Crystals to demonstrate the performers’ difficulties in controlling their careers: “We were never allowed any say in what we did at all. We were very young, of course, but we were teenagers making teenage music, and we would have liked, you know, some input. But no way! There was nothing we could do; Phil Spector was our record company, our producer, our everything. I don’t think our manager at that time had the experience to keep up with what was going on” (quoted in Cyrus 189).

148 Will Stos

32. There are many instances in which the performers fought back against unfair payment practices or exerted measures of creative control when recording. For example, in Martha Reeves’ autobiography, she notes that during a recording session for the song “I Can’t Dance to That Music You’re Playin’” she expressed uneasiness about some lyrics in the song that discussed a woman suspecting her lover of infidelity and allowing him to get away with it. She writes, “I wanted nothing to do with a song in which the woman plays victim, and I especially didn’t want anyone to think that I’m that kind of woman” (154). Reeves finally stopped the session to ask for changes in the lyrics. She explains, “The writers that I had worked with in the past always listened to me, and we had come up with some winners. I had input in every song I had ever recorded, tailoring it and making it mine” (155). When the producer refused her request she left the session without finishing the track. Although the producer subsequently brought in a session vocalist to complete the song and released it under her name, Reeves’ actions indicate she was an active part of the creative process, and that she wanted her work to reflect her values. Later in her autobiography, Reeves suggests that she was particularly pleased that the set design for the popular television show Murphy Brown contained a photo of her group behind the title character’s desk. She writes, “I’m glad to be associated with such strong, self-determined women because that’s what I always tried to be” (245).

33. For example, in “Here She Comes” by The Darlettes, they sing: “Here she comes, acting like she’s something else. Here she comes, hope I can control myself.” Later: “Here she comes, acting like she knows it all. Here she comes, I’d like to push her through the wall.”

34. In “I’d Rather Fight than Switch,” the interestingly named Tomboys can be heard telling their lover “So wrong or right, if she tries to steal you this little warm-hearted, soft-spoken, peace-loving girl will fight for you.” The Tomboys suggest they are not looking to make trouble but they will resort to fighting if it is required.

Works Cited

Betrock, Alan. Girl Groups: The Story of A Sound. New York: Delilah Books, 1982. Print.

Bradby, Barbara. “Do-Talk and Don’t Talk: The Division of the Subject in Girl- Group Music.” On Record: Rock, Pop and the Written Word. Eds. Simon Frith and Andrew Goodwin. New York: Routledge, 1990. 341–370. Print.

Brown, Mick. Tearing Down the Wall of Sound: The Rise and Fall of Phil Spector. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2007. Print.

Girl Groups 149

Campion, Chris. “More of The Cake Please.” Liner Notes. Rev-ola, 2007. Print.

Charles, Don. “Growin’ Up Too Fast.” Liner Notes. Mercury Records, 1995. Print.

Cyrus, Cynthia. “Selling an Image: Girl Groups of the 1960s.” Popular Music, 22.2 (2003): 173–93. Web. 13 April 2012.

Dahl, Bill. Motown: The Golden Years—The Stars that Shaped a Generation. Iola, WI: Krause Publications, 2001. Print.

Davis, Angela Y. Blues Legacies and Black Feminism. New York: Pantheon Books, 1998. Print.

Douglas, Susan. Where the Girls Are: Growing Up Female with the Mass Media. Toronto: Times Books, 1994. Print.

Emerson, Ken. Always Magic in the Air: The Bomp and Brilliance of the Brill Building Era. New York: Viking P, 2005. Print.

Farber, Sheryl. Da Doo Ron Ron: The Very Best of The Crystals. Liner Notes. Phil Spector Records/Legacy 88697 61288 2, 2011. Print.

Foucault, Michel. Language, Counter-Memory, Practice: Selected Essays and Interviews. Ed. F. Bouchard Donald. Ithaca, NY: Cornell UP, 1977. Print.

Frith, Simon. “Towards an Aesthetic of Popular Music.” Popular Music: Critical Concepts in Media and Cultural Studies Vol. IV . Ed. Simon Frith. New York: Routledge, 2004. 32–47. Print.

Gaar, Gillian G. She’s a Rebel: The History of Women in Rock & Roll. Seattle: Seal P, 1992. Print.

Gateward, Frances, and Murray Pomerance, eds. Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice: Cinemas of Girlhood. Detroit: Wayne State UP, 2002. Print.

Hamilton, Andrew. “The Jaynetts.” All Music Guide to Soul: The Definitive Guide to R&B and Soul. Eds. Vladmir Bogdanov, John Bush, Chris Woodstra, and Stephen Thomas Erlewine. San Francisco: Blackbeat Books, 2003. 365. Print.

Kenny, Lorraine Delia. Daughters of Suburbia: Growing Up White, Middle Class and Female. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers UP, 2000. Print.

Labelle, Patti, and Laura B. Randolph. Don’t Block the Blessings: Revelations of a Lifetime. New York: Riverhead Books, 1996. Print.

Lee, Herbert L. “The Best of The Bobbettes.” Liner Notes. Crash Records, 1997. Print.

150 Will Stos

Love, Darlene, and Rob Hoerburger. My Name Is Love: The Darlene Love Story. New York: William Morrow, 1998. Print.

Miller, Billy. “Past, Present and Future.” Mary Weiss of The Shangri-Las. Norton Records, 2006. Web. 5 November 2011.

Mitchell, Claudia, and Jacqueline Reid-Walsh, eds. Girl Culture: An Encyclopedia. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 2008. Print.

Norton, Rictor. The Myth of the Modern Homosexual: Queer History and the Search for Cultural Unity. London: Cassell, 1997. Print.

Pavletich, Aida. Sirens of Song: The Popular Female Vocalist in America. New York: Da Capo Press, 1980. Print.

Peneny, D. K. “The Jaynetts.” The History of Rock and Roll.com. 1998. Web. 5 November 2011.

The Pixies Three Online. Platypus Productions, 1996. Web. 5 November 2011.

Reeves, Martha and Mark Bego. Dancing in the Street: Confessions of a Motown Diva. New York: Hyperion, 1994. Print.

Smith, Patricia Juliana. “Ask Any Girl: Compulsory Heterosexuality and Girl Group Culture.” Reading Rock and Roll: Authenticity, Appropriation, Aesthetics. Eds. Kevin J. H. Dettmar and William Richley. New York: Columbia UP, 1999. 93–125. Print.

Smith, Patricia Juliana. “Dusty Springfield . . .” . The Queer Sixties. Ed. Patricia Juliana Smith. New York: Routledge, 1999. 105–126. Print.

Stras, Laurie, ed. She’s So Fine: Reflections on Whiteness, Femininity, Adolescence and Class in 1960s Music. Farnham, UK: Ashgate, 2010. Print.

Swartz, Shawna. “Interview with Lesley Gore.” AfterEllen.com, June 23, 2005. Web. 5 November 2011.

Tosh, John. “Hegemonic Masculinity and the History of Gender.” Masculinities in Politics and War: Gendering Modern History. Eds. Stefan Dudink, Karen Hagmann, and John Tosh. Manchester, UK: Manchester UP, 2004. 41–58. Print.

Toynbee, Jason. “Introduction to Part Nine.” The Popular Music Studies Reader. Eds. Andy Bennett, Barry Shank, and Jason Toynbee. New York: Routledge, 2006. 343–345. Print.

Valentine, Penny, and Vicki Wickham. Dancing with Demons: The Authorised Biography of Dusty Springfield. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 2000. Print.

Girl Groups 151

Ward, Jonathan. “The Honey Ltd. Story.” Perfect Sound Forever, March 2005. Web. 5 November 2011.

Warner, Jay. The Billboard Book of American Singing Groups: A History, 1940– 1990. New York: Billboard Books, Watson-Guptill Publications, 1992. Print.

Warner, Jay. Billboard’s American Rock’n’Roll in Review. Toronto: Prentice Hall International, 1997. Print.

Warwick, Jacqueline. Girl Groups, Girl Culture: Popular Music and Identity in the 1960s. New York: Routledge, 2007. Print.

Warwick, Jacqueline. “Girl Groups.” Girl Culture: An Encyclopedia. Eds. Claudia Mitchell and Jacqueline Reid-Walsh. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 2008. 307– 310. Print.

Whiteley, Sheila. Women and Popular Music: Sexuality, Identity and Subjectivity. London: Routledge, 2000. Print.

Wilson, Mary, and Patricia Romanowski. Supreme Faith: Someday We’ll Be Together. New York: Harper Collins, 1990. Print.

Discography 1984. “Baby With No Name.” United Artists 50870, 1971, Vinyl.

Bennett, Estelle. “In the Year 2000.” Laurie 3449, 1969, Vinyl.

Blaine, Marcie. “Bobby’s Girl.” Seville 120, 1962, Vinyl.

Blue, Babbity. “Don’t Make Me (Fall in Love with You).” Decca F12053, 1965, Vinyl.

Bobbettes, The. “I Shot Mr. Lee.” Triple X 104, 1960, Vinyl.

Bobbettes, The. “Mr. Lee.” Atlantic 1144, 1957, Vinyl.

Bobbettes, The. The Best of The Bobbettes. Crash Records 1011, 1997, CD.

Bonnie and the Treasures. “Home of the Brave.” Phi-Dan 5005, 1965, Vinyl.

Cake, The. “Have You Heard the News About Miss Molly.” A Slice Of The Cake. Decca LP DL-75039, 1968, Vinyl.

Calendar Girls, The. “People Will Talk.” 4 Corners 118, 1965, Vinyl.

Crystals, The. Da Doo Ron Ron: The Very Best of The Crystals. Phil Spector Records/Legacy 88697 61288 2, 2011, CD.

Cookies, The. “Girls Grow Up Faster Than Boys.” Dimension 1020, 1963, Vinyl.

152 Will Stos

Crystals, The. “He Hit Me (And It Felt Like a Kiss).” Philles 105, 1962, Vinyl.

Crystals, The. “He’s a Rebel.” Philles 106, 1962, Vinyl.

Crystals, The. “Uptown.” Philles 102, 1962, Vinyl.

Darlettes, The. “Here She Comes.” Dunes 2026, 1963, Vinyl.

Diane and Anita. “One by One.” Wand 1100, 1965, Vinyl.

Exceptions, The. “Soldier Boy.” Decca F 12100, 1965, Vinyl.

Four Pennies, The. “My Block.” Rust 5071, 1963, Vinyl.

Girls, The. “Chico’s Girl.” Capitol 5675, 1966, Vinyl.

Gore, Lesley. “It’s My Party.” Mercury 72119, Vinyl.

Gore, Lesley. It’s My Party: The Mercury Anthology. Polygram 532–517-2, 1996, CD.

Gore, Lesley. “Maybe I Know.” Mercury 72309, 1964, Vinyl

Gore, Lesley. “Sometimes I Wish I Were a Boy.” Mercury 72352, 1964, Vinyl.

Gore, Lesley. “That’s the Way Boys Are.” Mercury 72259, 1964, Vinyl.

Gore, Lesley. “You Don’t Own Me.” Mercury 72119, 1963, Vinyl.

Holloway, Patrice. “Stay With Your Own Kind.” Capitol 5985, 1967, Vinyl.

Honey Love and the Love Notes. “Mary Ann.” Cameo C-380-B, 1965, Vinyl.

Honey Ltd. “The Warrior.” Honey Ltd. LHI S 12002, 1968, Vinyl.

Ian, Janis. “Society’s Child (Baby I’ve Been Thinking).” Verve Records KF 5027, 1967, Vinyl.

Jaynetts, The. “Cry Behind the Daisies/” J&S 1177, 1964, Vinyl.

Jaynetts, The. “Sally Go Round the Roses.” Tuff 369, 1963, Vinyl.

Kelli and the Kittens. “What Mama Don’t Know Won’t Hurt Her.” Sound Stage 7 2526, 1964, Vinyl.

Lovelites, The. “How Can I Tell My Mom and Dad?” Lock 723, 1969, Vinyl.

Lynn, Donna. “I’d Much Rather Be with the Girls.” Capitol 5378, 1965, Vinyl.

March, Peggy. “I Will Follow Him.” RCA Victor 1379, 1963, Vinyl.

Marvelettes, The. Deliver: The Singles 1961–1971. Motown 37463–6259-2, 1993, CD.

Girl Groups 153

Marvelettes, The. “My Daddy Knows Best.” Tamla 54082-A, 1963, Vinyl.

Marvelettes, The. “Too Many Fish in the Sea.” Tamla 54105-A, 1964, Vinyl.

Miller, Jody. “He Hit Me.” Home of the Brave. Capitol ST-2412, 1965, Vinyl.

Pixies Three, The. “The Hootch.” Mercury 72288, 1964, Vinyl.

Reeves, Martha, and the Vandellas. “I Can’t Dance To That Music You’re Playin’.” Gordy 7075, 1968, Vinyl.

Reeves, Martha, and the Vandellas. “I Promise To Wait My Love” b/w “Forget Me Not.” Gordy 7070, 1968, Vinyl.

Reeves, Martha, and the Vandellas. “I Should Be Proud.” Gordy 7098-A, 1970, Vinyl.

Reeves, Martha, and the Vandellas. Live Wire!: The Singles 1962–1972. Motown 37463–6313-2, 1993, CD.

Renay, Diane. “Kiss Me Sailor.” 20th Century Fox 477, 1964, Vinyl.

Renay, Diane. “Navy Blue.” 20th Century Fox 456, 1963, Vinyl.

Renay, Diane. “Watch Out Sally.” MGM 13296, 1964, Vinyl.

Reparata and the Delrons. “I’m Nobody’s Baby Now.” RCA 47–8721, 1965, Vinyl.

Reparata and the Delrons. The Best of Reparata and the Delrons. Ace CDCHD 1066, 2005, CD.

Ross, Diana, and The Supremes. “Love Child.” Motown 1135, 1968, Vinyl.

Saint, Cathy. “Big Bad World.” Daisy 501, 1964, Vinyl.

Sands, Evie. “Angel of the Morning.” Cameo C475A, 1967, Vinyl.

Secrets, The. “The Boy Next Door.” Phillips 40146, 1963, Vinyl.

Secrets, The. “The Other Side of Town.” Philips 40173, 1964, Vinyl.

Shangri-Las, The. “Give Us Your Blessings.” Red Bird 10–030, 1965, Vinyl.

Shangri-Las, The. “Long Live Our Love.” Red Bird 10–048, 1966, Vinyl.

Shangri-Las, The. Myrmidons of Melodrama: Definitive Collection. RPM 506, 2002, CD.

Shangri-Las, The. “Past, Present And Future.” Red Bird 10–068, 1966, Vinyl.

Shirelles, The. “Doomsday.” Scepter 1278, 1964, Vinyl.

Shirelles, The. “Mama Said.” Scepter 1217, 1961, Vinyl.

154 Will Stos

Shirelles, The. “Soldier Boy.” Scepter 1228, 1962, Vinyl.

Shirelles, The. “Tonight’s the Night.” Scepter 1207, 1960, Vinyl.

Shirelles, The. “What Does a Girl Do?” Scepter 1255, 1963, Vinyl.

Shirelles, The. “Will You Love Me Tomorrow?” Scepter 1211, 1960, Vinyl.

Shirelles, The. Will You Love Me Tomorrow?—The Anthology. Castle Music CMEDD 263, 2005, CD.

Smith, Verdelle. “Tar and Cement.” Capitol 5632, 1966, Vinyl.

Superbs, The. “The Dawning of Love.” Symbol 8, 1969, Vinyl.

Supremes, The. “Where Did Our Love Go?” Motown 1060, 1964, Vinyl.

Supremes, The. “You Can’t Hurry Love.” Motown 1097, 1966, Vinyl.

Supremes, The. “Your Heart Belongs to Me.” Motown 1027, 1962, Vinyl.

Thompson, Sue. “Paper Tiger.” Hickory 1284, 1965, Vinyl.

Tomboys, The. “I’d Rather Fight than Switch.” Swan 4181, 1964, Vinyl.

Toys, The. “Silver Spoon.” Dyno Voice 219, 1966, Vinyl.

Utopias, The. “Sally Bad.” Fortune 568, 1966, Vinyl.

Various Artists. The Best of the Girl Groups, Volumes 1–2. Rhino R2 70988, R2 70989, 1990, CD.

Various Artists. Girls Go Zonk!! RPM 274, 2004, CD.

Various Artists. Growin’ Up Too Fast: The Girl Group Anthology. Mercury 314 528 171–2, 1996, CD.

Various Artists. One Kiss Leads to Another: Girl Group Sounds, Lost & Found. Rhino R2 74645, 2005, CD.

Various Artists. The Red Bird Story. Charley CD LAB 105, 1996, CD.

Various Artists. Where the Girls Are, Volumes 1–7. Ace CDCHD 648, 711, 745, 802, 823, 1032, 1218, 1997–2009, CD.

Warwick, Dionne. “Don’t Make Me Over.” Scepter 1239, 1962, Vinyl.

Whyte Boots, The. “Nightmare.” Phillips 12002, 1966, Vinyl.

Wooden Nickels, The. “Should I Give My Love Tonight.” Omen 7, 1965, Vinyl.

Copyright of Journal of Popular Music Studies is the property of Wiley-Blackwell and its content may not be

copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written

permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.