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YUMMY YUMMY, CHEWY CHEWY: A Bubblegum Yarn

In the early 1900’s, Frank H. Fleer concocted a sticky substance, a strange type of chewing gum, which he called “Blibber Blubber.” But chewing on this gum was like chomping on Silly Putty; furthermore, it had a wet bubble that usually burst, sticking stubbornly to junior’s countenance.

October 1, 1979
Bobot A. Hull

The CREEM Archive presents the magazine as originally created. Digital text has been scanned from its original print format and may contain formatting quirks and inconsistencies.

YUMMY YUMMY, CHEWY CHEWY: A Bubblegum Yarn

by Bobot A. Hull, Dr. Oldie, and “Big” Al Pavlow

Perhaps the blight of the late sixties was ‘bubblegum, ’ music planned entirely as a product, not as anybody’s art. —Charlie Gillett, The Sound Of The City

In the early 1900’s, Frank H. Fleer concocted a sticky substance, a strange type of chewing gum, which he called “Blibber Blubber.” But chewing on this gum was like chomping on Silly Putty; furthermore, it had a wet bubble that usually burst, sticking stubbornly to junior’s countenance.

In 1928, as determined as Fred MacMurray inventing flubber, Fleer introduced the Son of Blibber Blubber—a hardy chew with strong surface tension and snap-back, instantly dubbed “Dubble Bubble Gum.” Because it consisted mostly of rubberlike tree sap, Dubble Bubble had wonderful elasticity and made huge, perfect bubbles. Specifically developed to bring children pleasure, it was a world-wide sensation.

During World, War II, GIs gave Dubble Bubble to the Eskimos (who now even prefer it to whale blubber). Headhunters in Borneo once kidnapped a diplomatic official, setting as a ransom price tons of Dubble Bubble. Yef, the most fascinating story involving Fleer’s brainstorm is the one about the musical genre that bounced from the radio in r68 and ’69, capturing tj>e smacking resiliency of chewing bubble gum.

Like the sugary glob itself, bubblegum music was manufactured by masterful record producers almost as an isolated form; yet, like any rock ’n’ roll style, no matter how artificial, it does have its roots. Bubblegum’s rudiments stemmed basically from kiddle music or nursery rhyme songs, such as “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” “Simple Simon,” “This Old Man,” and “One, Two, Buckle My Shoe.” Simplistically regarded as an extension of kiddie songs, however, bubblegum has been historically snubbed as merely a continuous game of pat-a-cake with a light white-rock beat.

Actually bubblegum had so many antecedents that it was operating in a veritable tradition. One need only make a quick mental flashback to recall a few examples of rock ’n’ roll songs posing as nursery rhymes/games: the Dixie Cups’ “Iko Iko,” Johnny Thunders’ “Loop De Loop,” the Jaynettes’ “Sally, Go Round The Roses,” Shirley Ellis’ “The Name Game,” and “The Clapping Song,” innumerable versions of public domain tunes like “Little Liza Jane” and “Shortnin’ Bread” and? to some extent, even Henson Cargill’s “Skip A R ope.” Not only did bubblegum share the infantile lyricism of these records, but like Mardi Gras-music, its rhythms were simple and utilitarian, i.e., music one could skip rope or play hopscotch by.

Bubblegum hit the cfrarts at a time when kids were perpetually stoned, grooving to the doodling of the Grateful Dead and Quicksilver Messenger Service. Despite his castigation of the genre, Mr. Gillett did make this accurate observation in Sound Of The City:

While the contrived bubblegum sound was recorded by independent companies, rock was almost'entirely under the control of majors, confirming the impression that, despite the vaunted political implications of the music, this was a formulated product, whose audience was often more, rather than Jess, gullible than the" bubblegum audiences they sometimes belittled..

Of course, now it would be impossible to explore the dichotomy between bubblegummers’ formalism and the hippies’ hedonism. A similar clash exists today between the disco and punk factions; but just as this contemporary pop war seems to have drawn a truce (thanks to Blondie’s “Heart Of Glass”), so did the ’68-’69 battle", particularly when Iron Butterfly’s “In-AGadda-Da-Vida” happ’ened to han§ in everybody’s ears.

Undoubtedly, two key elements that influenced bubblegum’s producers were the musitron on records by Johnny & The Hurricanes and Del Shannon, as well as the prevailing organ on the Sir Douglas Quintet’s “She’s About A Mover,” Sam the. Sham’s “Woolly Bully” and Chris Montez’s “Let’s Dance.^Strictly speaking, bubblegum can be linked directly with punk rock. In early ’66, a Long Island pair of studio magicians named Jerry Kasenetz and Jeff Katz released their first Super K Production, the Rare Breed’s “Beg, Borrow and Steal.”' Hardly bubblegum, the record was simply the old “Louie Louie” riff with a jolt of frantic guitar, but it did signal the debut of bubblegum’s Super Kings, Kasenetz-Katz.

Months after this, two other factors contributed to the evolution of the chewychewy phenomenon. In/September, TV beamed out the pre-fab image of a knuckle-headed combo (whose misadventures were patterned after those of the Beatles in A Hard Day’s Night), known as the Monkees, the first rock band ever nurtured solely by the glass teat. The Monkees’ sound was too complex to be categorized as pure bubblegum, and its richness still never fails to shock the casual listener into a senseless unrestraint; irregardless, the Monkees (under the musical supervision of Don Kirshner) were certainly a ready-made product that eventually shaped itself into a major rock ’n’ roll force. At first, the Monkees not only couldn’t play their own instruments, but they also recorded other songwriters’ material (Boyce & Hart, Goffin & King, Jeff Barry, Neil Diamond). Clearly, here was a band th^t preferred to lurk in anonymity, triggering (and defining) the bubblegum frame of mind.

Whereas the Monkees presented an ideal image for the confectionary movement, the early instigators of bubblegum’s simplehearted sound were a guileless groupxalled Tommy James & The Shondells^ Their first hit was a * 1 record in ’66, “Hanky Panky ,” a Barry-Greenwich composition performed with a ferocious growl. On their Hanky Panky album cover, the band assumes the classic punk pose, that graceless foppery that linked combos as disparate as the Kingsmen and the Hombres. By their third record though (“It’s Only Love,” loosely based upon “This Old Man”)* T.J. & the Shondells seemed to be headed straight for Spuddom; in early ’67, they had their fourth hit with “I Think We’re Alone Now,” often classified as the first example of authentic bubblegum. Admittedly, the Shondells did manage to blend childish charm with an innocent beat and continued to do so (“Mirage,” “Mony Mony”). Nevertheless, like the Monkees, they transcended the genre that they most influenced by building upon and experimenting with their own formulation. “Crimson and Clover,” “Ball of Fire,” “Crystal Blue Persuasipn,” “Draggin’ the Line”— these are records beyond bubblegum, beyond the artifice of a producer.

Meanwhile, the Super K guys were still struggling. They produced two more punk records for the Attack label, Rare Breed’s “Come And Take A Ride In My Boat” (re-recorded by Every Mother’s Son) and the Music Explosion’s “Little Black Egg” (a hit for the Nightcrawlers), finally striking a vein with two Ohio bands, the Ohio Express and the Music Explosion. In ’67, the Music Explosion’s “Little Bit O’ Soul,” its sound in limbo somewhere between punk and bubblegum, was a #2 hit, a detonating fluke. When Kasenetz & Katz remade their initial flop, “Beg, Borrow and Steal,” with the Ohio Express, they teamed up with Cameo Records’ vice president Neil Bogart —it was no happy accident but a shrewd business maneuver.

Neil Bogart, who had been a performing teen idol himself under the name of Neil Scott, was responsible for obtaining many regional records released nationally by Cameo in the mid-60’s (particularly, a Michigan sweep, i.e., Seger and ? Mark’s “96 Tears”). After the Ohio Express hit, Bogart split from Cameo and went to work managing Buddah Records. Late in ’67, following Bogart’s lead, Kasenetz & Katz signed a production deal with Buddah; it was at this juncture that bubblegum truly began.

SELECTED DISCOGRAPHY

Singles

SUPER K PRODUCTIONS

Rare Breed—“Beg, Borrow and Steal,” “Come And Take A Ride In My Boat” (Attack)

Music Explosion—“Little Black Egg” (Attack) , “Little Bit O’ Soul” (Laurie)

Ohio Express—“Beg, Borrow and Steal,” “Try It” (Cameo), “Yummy Yummy Yummy,” “Chewy Chewy,” “Sweeter than Sugar,” “Mercy” (Buddah), “Hot Dog” (Super K)

1910 Fruitgum Co.—“Simon Says,” “May I Take A Giant Step (Into Your Heart),” “1-2-3 Red Light,” “Goody Goody Gumdrops,” “Indian Giver,” “Special Delivery” (Buddah)

Kasenetz—Katz Super Cirkus—“Quick Joey Small,” “I’m In Love With You” (Buddah)

Crazy Elephant—“Gimme Gimme Good Lovin’ ” (Bell)

Shadows of Knight—“Shake” (Team), “My Pire Department Needs A Fireman” (Super K)

Rock & Roll Dubble Bubble Trading Card Company of Philadelphia 19141—“Bubble Gum Music” (Buddah)

Capt. Groovy and His Bubblegum Army— “Capt. Qroovy and His Bubblegum Army” (Super K)

THE COMPETITION

Every Mother’s Son—“Come On Down To My Boat” (MGM)

Arc hies—“Bang-Shang-A-Lang, ” “Sugar Sugar” (Calendar), “Jingle Jangle” (Kirshner)

Tommy Roe—“Sweet Pea,” “Hooray For Hazel,” “Dizzy,” “Jam Up and Jelly Tight” (ABC)

Derek—“Cinnamon” (Bang)

Fun and Games—“The Grooviest Girl In The World” (Uni)

Banana Splits—“The Tra La La Song (One Banana, Two Banana)” (Decca)

Albums

Monkees—Barrel Full of Monkees (Colgems) , Re-Focus (Bell), Greatest Hits (Arista)

Tommy James & The Shondells—Best Of (Roulette), 20 Greatest Hits (Tee Vee) 1910 Fruitgum Co.—Juiciest Fruitgum (Buddah)

Ohio Express— Very Best Of (Buddah) Archies—Greatest Hits (Kirshner)

Tommy Roe—12 In A Roe/Greatest Hits (ABC)

Various Artists—Bubble Gum Music Is The Naked Truth (Buddah)

Various Artists—Bubble Gum (Pickwick) Various Artists—Super Bubble (Warner Special Products) (TV-pkg.)

Under the new agreement, the first release was K-K’s pivotal masterpiece— “Simon Says” by the 1910 Fruitgum Co., based on the familiar children’s game. Hei)e was 9 record with universal appeal, selling over five million copies internationally and voted the best dance record of ’68; a nostalgic anthem to the innocence of childhood’s idle hours, an adult’s daydream disguised a§ a'kiddie chant.

Unfortunately, most older listeners were on acid at the time, developing attitudes by reading Rolling Stone (“How-To-Be-ARock-Critic”) and generally not paying attentioh. The word “bubblegum,” then, began to acquire a derisive connotation, probably adopted by the rock press/industry to express displeasure over a musical genre so artlessly wholesome.

In all fairness, the term “bubblegum” was assuredly derived as a tag identification for a production sound that started with the 1910 Fruitgum Co. The group got their name while going through a trunk in an attic looking for unusual clothes to wear 6n ! stage. A gum wrapper discovered in a / jacket pocket provided the inspiration. Although shunned by the growing rock consciousness of ’68, the 1910 Fruitgum Co. were cherished by the gum industry. After the band’s performances, huge piles of assorted gum (some already shewed) would remain in their wake, tossed by enthusiastic fans, wild-eyed masticators.

Children’s games, catch phrases, and rhythmic patterns with an unadorned melody line—this was the combination that built the bubblegum empire. In a ’72 Fusion article, “The History of Buddah,” Neil Louison tried to decipher the reason for bubblegum’s chartbusting success: “Perhaps it was that Bubblegum expressed none of the tragic, - urgent fatuousness of the time. It had no legitimate reason for being, since it was only music and made no pretense to mythology, offered no salvation.” Yet, during an epoch when dancing often meant that one boogied to Canned Heat while being blinded by a strobe light, the reason for bubblegum’s popularity was as simple as its beat—instantly danceable. As Jeff Katz once stated in a Cash Box interview, uMost people spend their lives wishing they could be kids again. That’s why Our music is embraced by adults. In the end, it’s happy music, you don’t have to put on a hair shirt to listen to it.”

Whatever the ultimate cause, cultural or strategic, this sugary kid stuff was a playful sensation, expanding like a gigantic bubble being blown by ol’ Bazooka Joe. The classic bubblegum sound can be restricted to '68-’69, with the majority of the releases produced by Super K, as underrated as a team as Phil Spector is overrated. (Kasenetz -Katz even tried to Spectorize a Fruitgum record, “When We Get Married,” a rather unavailing project.) The highlights of K-K’s work were practically all chart hits: 1910 Fruitgum Co.’s “Simon Says,” “May I Take A Giant Step,” “jl-2-3 Red Light,” “Goody Goody Gumdrops,” “Indian Giver,” and “Special Delivery;” the Ohio Express’ (according to legend, the band always practiced at a deserted railroad station) “Yummy Yummy Yummy,” “Chewy Chewy,” and “Sweeter Than Sugar;” Crazy Elephanfs “Gimme Gimme Good Lovin’;” and the Shadows of Knight’s (yep, the very same punkers, semi-retired) “Shake.”

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K-K’s most ambitious scheme was somewhat of an El Dumbo Fiasco. On June 7, *68, the world’s first all-rock orchestra, the Kasenetz-Katz Singing Orchestral Circus, debuted at Carnegie Hall. Composed of K-K’s top-selling bands, a mind-blowing idea in itself, this Super Circus included 46 musicians, a strange aggregation that featured the 1989 Musical Marching Zoo, Lt. Garcia’s Magic Music Box, J..C.W. Rat Finks, and the St. Louis Invisible Marching Band. Whether this extreme was selfparody or a quick attempt to cash in on a good thing, Kasentz-Katz did eventually abandon the project, trimming thie band in half and naming it the Super CirkUs (“Quick Joey Small,” “I’m In Love With You”). The only bubblegum band more outrageous than K-K’s ostentatious orchestra was introduced on a episode of Monty Python’s Flying Circus—four cardboard boxes, arranged in front of some microphones, supposedly lip-synching “Yummy Yummy Yummy.”

As Super K bubblegum developed into a Bizness Boom, imitators tried to duplicate the sound. Of course, there were the usual bandwagon-buffoons besmirching the genre (i.e., scene-maker Kim Fowley’s “Bubble Gum,” the Zig Zag People’s vanilla-fudge versions of gumball standards); yet, bubblegum did go beyond K-K’s classic form. Components of this elementary sound were apparent on records by groups as divergent as the Box Tops and the ever-relishable Monkees. Almost as chaste as K-K’s quintessential productions were Derek’s (formerly Johnny Cymbal of “Mr ’ Bass Man” fame) “Cinnamon,” Tommy Roe’s “Sweet Pea” and “Jam Up and Jelly Tight,” and the Fun & Games’ “The Grooviest Girl in the World.”

Other than the Sound, what united these records under bubblegum’s banner was a common lyrical construction that combined the lanjguage of childhood games with puerile suggestions of sexual foreplay. Consider the Ohio Express’ “Yummy Yummy Yummy”)-“Love you such a sweet thing/Good enough to eat thing/ And it’s just what I’m gonna do.” Compare that to a Tommy Roe tune—“Jam up and jelly tight/You look a little naughty but you’re so polite/Jam up and jelly tight/ You won’t say you will but there’s a chance that you might.” With the exception of “Chewy Chewy,” the best example of the genre’s seemingly naive sexual chanting was Derek’s “Cinnamon”—“One potato, two potato, three potato, four/Open up Cinnamon I, want more/Five potato, six potato, seven potato, eight/Give it to me Cinnamon I can’t wait.” What 12-year-old wouldn’t get hot after hearing that stimulating jingle?

Super K’s domination of the field soon prompted video veteran Don Kirshner (who had originally inspired the whole racket image-wise, anyway, by helping to manufacture the Monkees) to retaliate through the TV medium, creating the subgenre of cartoon bubblegum. Kirshner’s Archie Show (CBS) premiered on Saturday morning in ’68, underwent various transformations (Archie’s Funhouse, U.S. of Archie), and hasn’t stopped boring us in syndicated form since. Produced by Jeff Barry (a bubblegum progenitor himself as the co-author, with Ellie Greenwich, of Tommy James’ first hit, “Hanky Panky”), the Archies (w/ the vocals of the Detergent’s former lead singer) proved themselves gum artifacts with the hits “BangShang-A-Lang” and “Jingle Jangle.” But with “Sugar Sugar” (a song with a real melody, as Wilson Pickett revealed when he made the Top 40 with his version), the /Archies became the largest selling bubblegum band of all time, bursting Super K’s glorious bubble. The best description of the Archies’ sound was expressed on their theme song, “Everything’s Archie”—“We ain’t the Archies without the Jughead beat. ”

Video bubblegum was a fad run rampant. A host of TV gum groups has traversed the airwaves since ’68, their sound blurred by their image. Here, a few illustrations: Josie and the Pussycats (Archies spinoff), the Hardy Boys (Frank Dixon’s characters as a rock band, pre-Shaun Cassidy), the Bugaloos (singing insects from Tranquility Forest) , Lancelot Link & the Evolution Revolution (psychedelic chimps), Kids From C.A.P.E.R. (Monkee mimics posing as spies), the Groovie Goolies, the Wombles, the Sugar Bears, and best of all, the Banana Splits (whose Kellogg’s series debuted simultaneously with the Archie Show). All these media-crafted bands released records of marginal value, but only the Banana Splits’“Trai-a La Song (One Banana, Two Banana)” can be intrinsically labeled bubblegum . For the record, the cuddly Splits do hold the distinction of being the only bubblegum band ever featured in a movie— Rollercoaster (also starring the gummy wimpy Sparks).

In reaction to the wave of video gum, Kasenetz & Katz planned to launch their own cartoon capers in a series called Captain Groovy's Bubblegum Show. As visualized by the team, Capt. Groovy (a silly patriot crowned with a beanie) would host a format in which animated versions of K-K’s top bubblegum acts (the Fruitgums, Crazy Elephant) would make guest appearances * But along with a TV-documentary called We Got High On Bubblegum, the idea fizzled, and a Super K project never aired on the orthicon tube.

Through the 70’s, bubblegum ingredients scattered and infiltrated tne entire pop spectrum, from the polished salubrity of the Brady Bunch and the Partridge Family to the heavy-metaloid thud of Ram Jam’s “Black Betty,” K-K’s last great production. Vestiges of the genre were evident on records by Tony Orlando & Dawn, early Sweet (“Funny Funny”),' Daniel Boone (“Beautiful Sunday,” “Arinabelle”), the DeFranco Family (“Heartbeart—It’s A Lovebeat”), Wadsworth Mansion (“Sweet Mary”), and, even lyrically, A*1 Abba (pick one). Primarily as dance music designed for kids, classic bubblegum was always only one-note away from becoming a solid hoofing sound like, say, the Isley Brothers’ “Twist and Shout.” In fact, disco music, currently the predominant pop genre, can be regarded, not only as the extension, but as the 70’s equivalent to 60’s bubblegum music.

There are many substantial reasons for linking disco with bubblegum; the comparisons, endless. Like K-K*s clapping sound, Euroand pop-disco are essentially mediums for a producer’s special sbund, whereas the performer’s role remains secondary. Disco combines a constant beat with simple lyrics; like bubblegum’s skip-arope dynamics, its function is strictly to provide rhythms forjpeople entangles in the exercise of dance. Furthermore, many disco bands are merely media-crafted vehicles for a producer’s concept. Aren’t Jacques Morali’s Village People just a chic model of K-K’s 1910 Fruitgum Co.? Any dissection of disco definitely leads to the revelation that records such as “Le Freak” and “Boogie Oogie Oogie” are closer to the spirit of bubblegum than to the soul of traditional R&B (with bands like Abba, Blondie, and Boney M even playing bubblegum-disco).

For skeptics of this theory, here’s a couple of hard-shell facts. First, back when he was trying to launch a Buddah hit, Neil Bogart (the 70’s sire of Casablanca Records, disco’s mainstay) pushed the label’s first K-K production, “Simon" Say3,” through a chain of discotheques (a 60’s term). He then became the Bubblegum King. Second, Barry White, the early-70’s disco smoothie, in ’69 wrote a songTor the Banana Splits entitled “Doin’ the Banana Split,” a comical dance tune for the floppy quartet. So the question remains—who invented disco?

Unfortunately, the gum we chew today, like contemporary pop music, is mainly composed of polyvinyl acetate, a synthetic rubber. Although during the recent summer the Dickies (L.A.’s “new wave” cartoon band) did ride the English Top Ten with their rendition of the Banana Splits’ “Tra La La” theme song, bubblegum music is basically a dead phenomenon, a defunct wad wrapped in tinfoil. While it lasted, bubblegum was consumed by connoisseurs ranging from three to sixteen years of age; of course, many adults chewed right along because they enjoyed the flavor.

And for some, too, it was the only gum their moms let them chew.