PART III. The British Invasion, First Wave:
Adventures in Excess and Elegance


Chapter 6. The Troggs - Here Today, Gone Today

“Wild Thing.” 1966, Atco Records.
Music and Lyrics by Chip Talyor
Produced by Larry Page
Key Signature: A Tempo: 104 bpm
Recommended CD: “Best of the Troggs,” 1988, PolyGram

If the mid-1950’s brought the first wave of teen-agers and high-schoolers who had the money to buy their own horrifying clothes, records and hi-fis, the mid- 60’s marked the beginning of pre-teen pecuniary plenty. Whether from a generous allowance, summer job, weekend car-washing or lawn mowing or a newspaper delivery route, kids suddenly had as much ready cash as their elder siblings had sported just a few years earlier.

The pre-teen cash-cow opened the door to producers and record labels who would “cutesify” pop and rock to cater to younger audiences less concerned with contents than packaging. The Hermits were by far the best of the early wave of artists invented and custom-crafted primarily for pre-teens, then came Freddie & the Dreamers, with platitudinous lyrics and their gawky proto-Muppets dance craze, “Do The Freddie.”

Caricatures and Post-Lewds Aplenty

On our side of the Atlantic we soon coined the cliche “bubblegum” music, and pre-teen idols and groups sprang up like weeds, some bursting onto television with their own sappy sit-coms. Tommy Roe and Tommy James, later the Ohio Express and 1910 Fruitgum Company (concocted by teenybopper producer/moguls Kasenetz and Katz at Buddah Records), the Monkees, Archies, and the Partridge Family, the Osmonds. All these artists made safe pop-rock “soundalikes” that raised few parental eyebrows, and were therefore supported to keep kids away from the increasingly rebellious and “dangerous” mainstream of rock psychedelia, sexual liberation, political protest and later, societal alienation.

While there is little to be said about the musical contributions of the actual Hermits to their success, the entire phenomenon illustrates that where there is a demand, someone will fill it. In late ‘64 there seemed to be an infinite demand for British-flavored pop-rock. Practically any group who could make vaguely Beatley-sounding music and snappy remarks could get signed, on both sides of the Atlantic.
Since labels didn’t and still don’t know what will hit, they signed hundreds of artists, produced one or two singles on each, and threw them against the wall. If any of them stuck, down-line profits could be in the millions.

The same week that the Troggs reached No. 1 with “Wild Thing,” August 1, 1966, the number two and three singles were “Hanky Panky,” by Tommy James and the Shondells, and “Lil’ Red Riding Hood,” by Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs. All three had blatantly suggestive lyrics - for their time - and were played in a lurid style that appealed to virtually nothing above the waist. The Sexual Revolution was in full swing, and would peak the folllowing year with the so-called Summer of Love.

While the Troggs were in fact a decent rock quartet formed by several school friends in Hampshire, England, their very rapid rise to success shows the power of names, luck and careful packaging by an experienced pop producer/manager. The Troglodytes (cave dwellers) had only rehearsed a few months and barely played a few gigs when Larry Page, then manager of the Kinks, heard about a group who performed a powerful versions of “You Really Got Me” and other early Invader rockers. He signed them immediately, shortening their name to the Troggs.

What’s In The Groove

After an initial flop, Page searched for heavier material, and finally heard a demo of a song by American pop writer/producer Chip Taylor. At the same time, Troggs’ lead singer Reginald Ball began using the stage name Reg Presley, purely to get press attention. It did, inviting questions about non-existent familial connection with the King, and encouraging Reg to develop body-grinding on-stage persona. Thus, while the Kinks fought to overcome the cruder connotations of their name, the Troggs fanned the flames of controversy and laughed their way to the bank.

KEY ELEMENTS: RHYTHMIC PHRASE & HOOK, GROOVE, VOCAL, MARKET TIMING & PROMOTION

“Wild Thing” is hardly worth discussing musically, except as the first British incarnation of so-called neanderthal rock, a style epitomized by the Kingsmen’s 1963, recorded-for-$50, lyrics-largely-undecipherable-so-they-must-be-obscene hit, “Louie, Louie.” “Wild Thing’s” verses and choruses consist of the same three chords as “Louie, Louie”: 1, 4, 5 - few and simple enough for any pre-teen garage band to learn and play well. The record’s feel is pounding, hypnotically repetitive and physically arousing.

Reg Presley’s vocal, delivered in a growling, sneering, almost “get down, woman” tone, exudes the delicacy of a gorilla with a low-slung guitar. Yet the the lyric itself is a wimpy set of cliches that might have come from the mouth of Austin Powers. You make everything groovey... You move me. Hardly the kind of machismo we’d expect from the pile-driving rhythm section. At face value, we could easily contrue the whole record as a goof.

Goofiest of all is the three-note solo played on an out of tune ocarina or “sweet potato.” Guitarist Chris Britton might have seduced us with scrotumnal guitar lines as Jimmy Page soon would in Led Zeppelin, but an ocarina? However, as hilarious and dated as “Wild Thing” may sound now, it’s still a great single. It establishes a set of ground rules within seconds and, like a good movie, sticks to its proto-human, Jurassic world view from start to finish.

A unique, non-musical factor also helped propel “Wild Thing” up the charts: it was simultaneously released on two separate labels in the U.S.! The group had initially signed with Fontana in the U.K., but somehow the U.S. Atco label acquired copies of the master tapes, and somehow they showed written proof of owning the U.S. rights. Thus, each company tried to outpromote the other, pushing their own version in print ads, to radio, distributors and retailers. The group reaped all the benefits of the battle with additional sales and notoriety.

As the dispute was resolved privately, we may never know what really happened. However, it is clear that only the artist or producer, or stretching it beyond strict legality, the songwriter could sign anything with Atco that would give them any claim. Reg Presley and producer Larry Page both insisted in print that they had never spoken with or met anyone from Atco. Songwriter Taylor? Unclear. Almost immediately, however, Mr. Taylor produced a pre-Yankovic goof version of “Wild Thing,” using comedian Bill Minkin, an impersonator, to mimic Robert Kennedy’s voice reciting the lyrics. The artist was listed as Senator Bobby, and the goof went to No. 20.

The Artist Quits - temporarily:

The Troggs never repeated their initial success in the U.S., and had only middling chart action in the U.K. from 1967-70. However, manager Page filled their schedule with profitable, non-stop tours. As many among the musical pantheon flaunted the “sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll” image that filled the coffers of the press, the Troggs, simple entertainers portraying an image without living it, acquired a kind of guilt by association. In late 1967, Chris Britton quit the group in disgust, declaring to the assembled media,

“I’m fed up with the connection between pop groups and drugs. It is so bad now, you cannot move without being searched. My guitar was pulled to pieces last week [by customs agents, not fans] when we came back from the Continent. It has depressed me and got on my nerves so that I cannot play properly and am letting down the group. I can’t stand the way people look at you and immediately think that because you’re in a group, you’re drugged to the eyebrows. I’m getting out.”

Of course, he re-joined within a month, probably realizing where his bread was buttered. “I Can’t Control Myself,” a fine follow-up single to “Wild Thing,” had such a learingly lusty Reg Presley vocal that stations on both sides of the Atlantic banned it, and it withered. Worse yet, thanks to the Kinks’ run-in with the musician’s union, the Troggs could not tour the U.S. until 1968. In the U.K., however, they enjoyed a string of hits for the following three years. While their later albums retained their familiar pounding feel, the group also ventured into flower-power ballads such as “Love Is All Around,” a major 1968 hit, and even breezy psychedelia, with “Purple Shades” and “Maybe The Madman.”

The Artist Lets Rip:

Six years later, Reg Presley gave a no holds barred interview to Roy Hollingworth for Melody Maker (June 23, 1973). Like many young musicians faced with sudden success, the whole experience hit like a shockwave, and he was still reeling from the first impact.

“Punk music. I like that word, punk. When you think back, ‘Wild Thing’ and ‘Can’t Control Myself’ were very punky records. I mean, you could put ‘em out now, and they’d be fresh as damned daisies. Things do indeed go around in circles. Mister, when we first came into the business we were really thick. You’ve heard of people so raw they had straw hangin’ out of there ears? Well, we had straw, cabbages, lettuces, the whole bloody lot.”

The first time Reg heard “Wild Thing” was when he received two demos, “Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind” by John Sebastian of the Lovin’ Spoonful, and “WT.” “Both records were good, but we really weren’t in the Spoonful bag. I don’t read music, so I picks up this “Wild Thing” and I just reads the lyrics. And I think ‘what the hell is this?’ You make everything... groovy?’ - I just thought it was a joke. I mean the word ‘groovy’ was right out. ‘What crap are they sending us?’

“Then I plays the demo, and Jesus, it was incredible. If Chip Taylor put it out how he played it - just him and guitar - it would have been a hit. So I plays it to the lads, and there’s a majority ‘yes,’ and then we do it. Well, it took three weeks to get into the top ten, and [only one more week] to make No. 1.

“I mean it was so sudden. I was still layin’ bricks for a livin’ when it was No. 12 in the Charts.. I was working with a painter on this building, and when ‘Wild Thing’ came on his radio, he shouts over to me, ‘Reg, you ‘eard this new record?’ I says, ‘no,’ and he says, ‘it’s fantastic. If these boys don’t get to No. 1 I’ll eat my brush.’ [When it comes to the money...] There were suddenly a lot of people around who showed us bits of paper entitling them to a share. A lot of syphoning went on, so to speak.” [And live,] even when we were No. 1 we were being put out for 100 Pounds a night. Little did we know that the producers were getting 500. It was bad, really bad.”

[On their first tour, opening for Herman’s Hermits,] “the fans broke police cordons to get to us on the first night. They smashed down barriers and rushed forward. I mean, was that our fault? It was then that I was closest to packin’ it all up. I could see that business was already ruling totally over honest appreciation. Sad.”

R.H.: Did you feel like you were in some sort of wilderness when ‘progressive music’ became THE music?

[He smiles and chugs more wine] “Well, it ain’t no use lyin’ about it. I mean we was booked with underground bands, and I’d listen to the first fifteen minutes of them, and I’d think ‘that’s great,’ but then they’d just carry on. I once asked a band how many numbers they did in a two hour set. Well, this geezer said they did about four! Christ, we could knock out around 20. I said, ‘how do you get away with it?’ (He laughs uncontrollably...) They was a very famous band.”

“But it was the self-indulgence that eventually killed the underground. Hendrix was THE master of progressive. You know, l don’t think he did a number that was much longer than six minutes. Then those that followed him ruined it. Rock became like jazz. Boring. What followed Hendrix was brilliant musically, but the feeling was nearly totally lost. Give me feeling. That’s what we are all about. We know we ain’t brilliant musicians, but we feel, and I believe we sound original.

“But I tell you what, mister, I’m beginning to believe that we weren’t so thick after all. We’ve been through this business and we know it for what it is, and we survived. I’ve been luckier than most of the band, though, ‘cause I wrote most of the tunes, so I gets royalties.”

While the Troggs are remembered largely as the best primitive-rock or proto-punk band of the decade, many of their self-penned songs were both musically inventive and cleverly arranged. In my opinon, critics have underrated them from day one. Unfortunately, their image as dumb Neanderthals was carved in stone when a twelve minute tape of an in-studio screaming match during which four letter words flew thicker than sea poop made its way to the media. It couldn’t be played on-air, even today, but circulated worldwide almost instantly, and may have ultimately inspired bits of dialogue for “Spinal Tap.” The Troggs’ five albums are Larry Page’s only production credits.