Welcome to My World
In our slim record collection a Texan crooner loomed large
My parents came to London in the late 40s, theoretically in time to get with the rock and roll beat. Never going to happen, of course. Dad was cheerfully indifferent to music. What floated his boat was the sound of a car engine purring.
I do have a vague memory of my mum occasionally mentioning Ella Fitzgerald. That sounds very hip and happening but she didn’t feature in the family record collection. The slim playlist for the grey Dansette, precariously perched on the formica coffee table in our front-room, was pitifully slim and defiantly uncool.
We did have Jim Reeves, though. Every Irish home had Gentleman Jim.
Ireland had a crush on the Texan crooner, with the velvet voice. Heavily influenced by Bing Crosby, Jim Reeves had a simple shtick. Essentially, he took a slow song and slowed it down still further.
More homely than the priestly Crosby, Reeves was still reassuringly wholesome. Presley without the hip gyrations. Jerry Lee minus the underage marrying. The man even looked Irish — or perhaps many Irish men tried to look like him.
In 1963, Reeves toured Britain and Ireland: a brilliant career move. At that time, Elvis only left Memphis to avoid The Beatles. And here was Gentleman Jim waving from the ramparts of Bunratty Castle.
Reeves even recorded Irish songs like Danny Boy and Maureen: non sectarian numbers the whole island could could happily sing along to.
Mourning
It couldn’t last. A year later Jim Reeves was killed, piloting a private plane just outside Nashville. This tragedy earned him instant enrolment into the pantheon of Irish heroes cut down in their prime. His record company paid their respects with the posthumous release of 32 singles.
Reeves vinyl now accompanied a framed photo of JFK in Irish homes across the world. Albums were comparatively expensive in the early 60s but the swells in business class sent Moonlight and Roses (1964) to №2 — it stayed in the Top Twenty for a full year.
For those packed behind that flimsy curtain in coach, there were the singles. These were priced for teenagers and featured the songs everyone had heard of. The early releases had black labels, later ones came in an arresting orange.
In our house we had I Love You Because which gets on many hate lists. Forgive them for their foolishness, Jim.
We also had Welcome to My World (zzzz) and, of course, the blockbuster: Distant Drums.
Cards on table here — I’ve never cared for that last one. There was also a rude version, popular on the football terraces and I hated that too. As a young child I repeatedly demanded to hear the B side, Old Tige. My love for this tear-jerking tale of a life-saving sheepdog later curdled — I try to give it a fairer hearing here.
