The Fleetwoods were one of those groups more successful than one-hit wonders — they had several hits — but they never quite broke through into super-stardom, either. They seemed to be here, and then not-here.*
The group seems to have formed almost by accident:
In one version, high-school students Gretchen Christopher and her friend Barbara Ellis had been trying to organize an all-girl vocal trio in the late 1950s, in their hometown of Olympia, Washington. They’d already been working on some songs but felt they needed a third voice to complete their “sound,” whatever it might turn out to be.
Gary Troxel, a boy in their class, played the trumpet; Christopher and he were waiting for her mother to pick them up after school one day, when he started humming a jazzy little tune he’d been thinking of. The story goes that Christopher (as Wikipedia puts it) “recognized that it was based on the same chord progression as the song she had been writing.” They invited Troxel to sing with them and, well, instant history: their first hit song.**
The title of the whispery number: “Softly, Softly.” Billing themselves as Two Girls and a Guy, they performed it at a couple of school functions, changing the name somewhere in there to “Come Softly.” They tape-recorded it that way, all but a capella — their only accompaniment the jingling rhythm of Troxel’s car keys — and Dolphin Records eventually picked them up.
Dolphin Records seems to have been haunted by nomenclature: the group was renamed The Fleetwoods — supposedly — by picking the name from a phone book; the song was retitled “Come Softly to Me,” although that phrase occurs nowhere in the lyrics, because the company thought “Come Softly” a bit too suggestive… and the label itself shortly had to be renamed from Dolphin to Dolton, because a Dolphin Records already existed. Whoops. Details, details.
After “Come Softly to Me,” the trio charted something like ten more songs. Of these, The Missus’s personal favorite is “Tragedy”:
[Below, click Play button to begin Tragedy. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 2:43 long.]
Lyrics:
Tragedy
(by Gerald H. Nelson and Fred B. Burch; performance by The Fleetwoods)Wind and storm (wah-ooh)
Gone’s the sun (wah-ooh)
From the stars (wah-ooh)
My dark has come
You’ve gone from me, whoa, whoa,
TragedyOh, come back (come back)
Have me here (right here)
Hold me love (my love)
Be sincere
You’ve gone from me, whoa, whoa,
TragedyLike smoke (like smoke) from a fire (from a fire)
Our love (of love) whoa oh oh whoa
Our dreams (our dreams) have all gone (all gone)
Above (above) whoa oh oh whoaBlown (blown by wind)
Kissed by the snow
All that’s left is the dark be-ee (below)
You’ve gone from me, whoa, whoa, tragedy
Whoa, whoa, whoa tragedy
The Missus has told me a few times of the first occasion on which she heard this song. She was both young and old enough at the time to be swept away by the title, the lyrics, and the whole sound. Melodrama in her soul even then!
As for “Come Softly to Me,” numerous other artists have covered it. Here’s an hypnotic interpretation by The Roches, from their 1985 Another World album:
[Below, click Play button to begin Come Softly to Me. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 3:02 long.]
Lyrics:
Come Softly to Me
(by Gretchen Christopher, Barbara Ellis, and Gary Troxel;
performance by The Roches)Mm dooby do, dahm dahm, dahm do dahm ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm do dahm, ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm do dahm, ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm ooh dahmMm dooby do, dahm dahm, dahm do dahm ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm do dahm, ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm do dahm, ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm ooh dahm
Mm dooby do(Come softly, darling)
(Come to me, sta-ay)
(You’re my ob-session)
(For ever and a da-ay)I want, want you to kno-o-ow
I love, I love you so
Please hold, hold me so tight
All through, all through the night(Speak softly, darling)
(Hear what I sa-ay)
(I love you always)
(Always, always)I’ve waited, waited so long
For your kisses and your love
Please come, come to me
From up, from up above(Come softly, darling)
(Come softly, darling)
I need, need you so much
Wanna feel your wa-arm touchMm dooby do, dahm dahm, dahm do dahm ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm do dahm, ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm do dahm, ooby do
Dahm dahm, dahm ooh dahm(repeat to end)
_________________
* “They” continue to perform — in various combinations of original personnel and replacements… singing their original hits.
** A different but more complete version of this story, 
suggesting that Troxel and Christopher have squabbled over who deserves how much credit, appears at Troxel’s site. That site also contains this tidbit: the license plate on one of Troxel’s restored antique cars — a 1932 Ford Roadster — reads NDOBEDO. Ha!
Jayne says
Two Girls and a Guy, again! (I wonder what’s in store for Friday…)
Dahm dahm, dahm do dahm, ooby do–there was a place called Sha-Booms in Providence some years ago. Decorated with neon lights and old album covers and a shiny red 1950 Chevy coop, I thought it was pretty cheesy, but I went anyway with two of of my close friends from work, at the time. Both were born in the late forties and loved anything related to the fifties.
Lord how we danced. Put on Elvis and I was whisked away. But I never could get used to the doo wap music and what I thought were hokey lyrics. Still, there are some songs that I don’t mind. That wah-ooh’s a killer in Tragedy! It is sweet, I must admit. ;)
(Oh-ReCaptcha = concussion ppicki. I don’t think it liked my what I had to say!)
John says
Haha, I didn’t even think of that two-girls-and-a-guy coincidence! Dang. I need to be more careful… I’d hate for anyone to think this blog might actually be about any one thing more than another. :)
(Aside: was looking recently at some of the Google searches which have brought people to RAMH. If a Martian had been watching over my shoulder, he might have asked if my goal here is to mention every subject in the world at least once. Heh.)
For a while, back in my NJ days, I was doing a lot of driving on weekend nights — just by myself. Listened to a lot of radio. Radio preachers’ voices reaching all the way from the Deep South up past the Mason-Dixon line… and some sort of regular “Street Corner Saturday Night” program. Every now and then they might throw in the Mills Brothers, but the show consisted almost entirely of non-stop doo-wop music. Not something I’d choose, probably, but it made for good traveling/thinking music.
Looking around the Web just now, I found the site of an organization called The New Jersey Doo Wop and Street Corner Harmony Association. Don’t want to provide a link, though, because looking at the pages there is almost physically painful — they’re using some sort of brightly-twinkling-stars animated background image which is just… too much.
Jayne says
Aha! See–You do (to the delight and wonderment of your readers) cover a lot of ground here!
It wasn’t difficult to find The New Jersey Doo Wop team–physically painful is kind! Anyone with any type of seizure disorder puts his life at risk by entering that site. The glitter, the stars–I dared not press the ENTER button! So Jersey my hubs would say. ;)
(Nance has me thinking about my old Weejuns and the school sock hops we used to attend in the 70s. Now those were fun. I think doo-wop is a little easier on the ears if you’re dancing to it.)
John says
PBS pledge-drive periods are always a useful way of tracking the generations — speaking specifically of the concerts they broadcast (with numerous interruptions, of course). For the longest time, it seemed, these featured Big Band and middle-of-the-road vocalists from the 1950s… groups like the Maguire Sisters, and the Mills Brothers. They’ve taken to specializing in doo-wop groups and folk-music icons. It’s a little disconcerting — borderline creepy — to hear the pledge-drive commentators speaking of these acts in almost exactly the same terms they used to speak of their predecessors. “We all love these great old sounds, don’t we? They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore, do they? But thanks to your local PBS station, we can keep hearing and enjoying them, over and over!” etc.
Nance says
Lavender Blue, Come Softly, Tragedy, Mr. Blue, Goodnight My Love, Graduation’s Here, The Great Imposter…OMG, I’m twelve years old again! (And just dotted all my i’s with pink hearts.) The Fleetwoods were never our musical heroes in those years (Motown and what we called Beach Music filled that bill), but theirs were the songs we always slow-danced to in someone’s basement. I can just hear the potato chips underfoot. You’ve sent me scrambling all over the ‘net to find samples of all my Fleetwood memories. We forget how much longing and…well, depression is the right word, really…there was in our music. We didn’t think about it; we just recognized it because it matched our heartbeats. Listening today, I’d have to call their style Estrogen Soul.
John says
“Estrogen Soul”: ha!
Much of your comment reminds me of The Missus’s tales of her adolescence in N. Florida. I’d never heard the term “beach music” until she introduced me to it, when we first met. I thought she meant surf music — the Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, maybe some Dick Dale and the Ventures, all that — but no. I’ll let you (and her, if she shows up here) supply specific examples; I myself would probably call it something like “sock-hop music.” It’s not music ABOUT the beach, necessarily. It’s music with a peppy beat, it’s HAPPY music, and above all it’s music you can dance to.
I don’t think I ever went to a party where couples slow-danced in the basement. One girl had an outdoor party, maybe in 8th grade or so — for our graduation from elementary school, maybe? — and I remember there was some slow dancing there, out on the brick patio…
But actually, now that I think about it, there were probably many such parties; I just never went to one. (Cue heartbreak music.)
Nance says
Carolina Beach Music was really classic Motown and R&B. The granddaddy of them all is 60 Minute Man by the Dominoes. For a real rundown, go here, of course. It was all about music that one could dance the slithery, controlled, highly refined Carolina Shag to. The costume was well-worn, highly polished Weejun loafers, no socks, starched button-down collar oxford shirt with cuffs rolled up, and chinos with a sharp crease. There are meccas here where the tradition continues. We danced in the clubs around Greensboro, NC and here at Ocean Drive Beach, SC. Half my high school class has beach homes here to be close to that memory.
In other words, it’s a thang, John. I was never very good at it, but I sure admired those who were.
John says
Oh, Nance — if you liked “60 Minute Man” I am pretty sure you’ll like this. It’s by a group called Big Daddy, of whom I wrote a good while ago, well before your arrival here I think. This is from their “reproduction” of the Beatles’s Sgt Pepper album.
[Below, click Play button to begin When I’m 64 (Big Daddy). While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 3:13 long.]
(My Big Daddy post was here, complete with their version of “With a Little Help from My Friends.”)
I’ll have to fly this Carolina-shag thing past The Missus. That YouTube video was… striking. (And here’s a report, apparently recent, on the economic impact the dance continues to have on North Myrtle Beach.)