Fact #78966
When:
Short story:
The Righteous Brothers enter the Billboard Hot 100 Singles chart in the USA with a new Phil Spector-produced single, You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling, on Philles Records.
Full article:
Phil Spector (producer) : They didn't want to do Lovin' Feelin'. They wanted to do rock'n'roll, ooh-bop-a-doo stuff.
I worked six months on that fucking record, over-dubbing and re-overdubbing, and finally I had it down right where I thought it was pretty good, but I was worried that nobody would get it. I played it for a few people and nobody had heard anything like it. I didn't know whether we'd changed the world or done something completely catastrophic. So I had to go back to New York.
I played it for Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil. I put it on, the record goes, "You never close your eyes", and Barry says, "Whoah, whoah, wait. Wrong speed." I said, "What?" He goes, "Wrong speed, Phil." That's the first comment I hear.
So I immediately called Dr Kaplan, my psychiatrist, and I said, "Doc, I have to see you right away. I just worked six months on this record; it cost me $35,000 and the fucking co-writer thinks it's on the wrong fucking speed.
I called Larry Levine, my engineer, and said, "You given me the right pressing?" I'm fucking paranoid. I didn't know what to do. So I called Donnie Kirshner, the co-publisher, and said, "Donnie, I got to play you this record." He said, "I hear it's a monster." I said, "You've got the best ears in the business." So I bring it over and put it on. He goes, "Boops, it's great, it's great, it's great; what do you call it?" I said, "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'." He said, "How many you got pressed up?" I said, "Half a million." He said, "Bring Back That Lovin' Feelin' - that's your title." That's the second opinion. So I call Dr Kaplan again.
Then I call Murray The K, the biggest DJ in New York City, USA. I said, "Murray, I have this new Righteous Brothers record. I need you to play it on the show, because it's a four minute and five second record; there's never been a record this long before." And I'm lying on the label; I put three minutes five seconds - I got in a lot of fucking trouble for that. So he comes over and he listens to the record. This is the last opinion of the day - five o'clock in the afternoon. And he's listening and listening, and it gets to the middle section, and he says, "That bass line, that La Bamba thing, what's that?" I said, "That's part of the song." He said, "That's fucking sensational." I said, "Well, yeah." He said, "That's how it should begin." I said, "It can't begin that way, Murray." He said, "Make that the beginning."
And those are my three experts; the co-writer, the co-publisher and the number-one disc-jockey in America all killed me. I didn't sleep for a week when that record came out. I was so sick, I got a spastic colon; I had an ulcer.
(Source : interview with Mick Brown, Telegraph Magazine, 4 February 2003)
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I worked six months on that fucking record, over-dubbing and re-overdubbing, and finally I had it down right where I thought it was pretty good, but I was worried that nobody would get it. I played it for a few people and nobody had heard anything like it. I didn't know whether we'd changed the world or done something completely catastrophic. So I had to go back to New York.
I played it for Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil. I put it on, the record goes, "You never close your eyes", and Barry says, "Whoah, whoah, wait. Wrong speed." I said, "What?" He goes, "Wrong speed, Phil." That's the first comment I hear.
So I immediately called Dr Kaplan, my psychiatrist, and I said, "Doc, I have to see you right away. I just worked six months on this record; it cost me $35,000 and the fucking co-writer thinks it's on the wrong fucking speed.
I called Larry Levine, my engineer, and said, "You given me the right pressing?" I'm fucking paranoid. I didn't know what to do. So I called Donnie Kirshner, the co-publisher, and said, "Donnie, I got to play you this record." He said, "I hear it's a monster." I said, "You've got the best ears in the business." So I bring it over and put it on. He goes, "Boops, it's great, it's great, it's great; what do you call it?" I said, "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'." He said, "How many you got pressed up?" I said, "Half a million." He said, "Bring Back That Lovin' Feelin' - that's your title." That's the second opinion. So I call Dr Kaplan again.
Then I call Murray The K, the biggest DJ in New York City, USA. I said, "Murray, I have this new Righteous Brothers record. I need you to play it on the show, because it's a four minute and five second record; there's never been a record this long before." And I'm lying on the label; I put three minutes five seconds - I got in a lot of fucking trouble for that. So he comes over and he listens to the record. This is the last opinion of the day - five o'clock in the afternoon. And he's listening and listening, and it gets to the middle section, and he says, "That bass line, that La Bamba thing, what's that?" I said, "That's part of the song." He said, "That's fucking sensational." I said, "Well, yeah." He said, "That's how it should begin." I said, "It can't begin that way, Murray." He said, "Make that the beginning."
And those are my three experts; the co-writer, the co-publisher and the number-one disc-jockey in America all killed me. I didn't sleep for a week when that record came out. I was so sick, I got a spastic colon; I had an ulcer.
(Source : interview with Mick Brown, Telegraph Magazine, 4 February 2003)