DOC POMUS

Shortly after Elvis died, I wrote the first of four articles on Doc, commemorating his comeback in a Soho News piece. In the curious way Americans honor their heroes after death, Elvis royalties intensified like a rejuvenated oil well. But Doc Pomus, who wrote 25 songs for Elvis, never met his foremost interpreter. They'd only conferred a few minutes by phone, Elvis calling for late-night instructions during an early '60s recording session; Doc didn't even know who he was talking to.

Doc came within inches of meeting Presley at a 1974 Hilton Hotel press conference. But the hard-assed Colonel Parker, whom Doc knew well in the old days, wouldn't let Pomus through. Doc introduced himself to Vernon, who said his son would love to meet him, but Elvis had just left the hotel. Doc was heartbroken. Three years later, Doc and Elvis made solid arrangements to meet. But Presley died a week before the meeting, leaving Doc totally spooked.

In the mid-'50s, he groomed a teenage pianist with great chops, Mort Shuman, into gradually becoming his partner. Doc had handed a rough song to Leiber & Stoller, who were producing Coasters records. They asked his permission to change it around, giving him a third interest, which Doc thought was fair. Returning from his honeymoon in early 1957, he and his wife stopped at a diner, a few dollars left to their name. Doc noticed a new song, "Youngblood"by The Coasters, on the jukebox and threw in his nickel. It was the same song he'd given Leiber & Stoller, entirely reworked. A delighted Doc phoned Atlantic Records, which wired him a $1,500 advance on the single, congratulating him on his first national hit.

From a penthouse cubbyhole in the Brill Building, Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman set out to reap teen coin, crafting hundreds of bluesy pop gems. They wrote 25 songs for Elvis ("Little Sister","His Latest Flame","A Mess of Blues","Suspicion"), hits for The Drifters ("Save The Last Dance For Me","This Magic Moment."), Dion & The Belmonts ("A Teenager In Love"), Bobby Darin ("Plain Jane"). Twelve songs a week they wrote, overpowering the odds of reaching the charts by sheer abundance. Doc wrote 80 of the lyrics, 20 percent of the melody.

With Shuman as partner, Doc's yearly income shot up to 50 grand.

"I had a house, a swimming pool, all that shit, and we had nothing but these Broadway characters hanging around. None of them paid any attention to me and if they asked what kind of songs I wrote I felt embarrassed. If I had written a fifth-rate Broadway song, my God, they would have been proud."

Now, consider the context in which "Last Dance" was written. Here's Doc, married to this gorgeous blonde Broadway actress, and all her Broadway cronies are contemptuous of rock & roll. A childhood victim of polio, Doc was on crutches, never able to walk. One night he was at a dance with his wife, waiting for her to finish dancing with a bevy of partners, patient and cool on the sidelines. Though he never said so, it likely provided the inspiration for these lines:

"Don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So, darling, save the last dance for me"

This much covered Drifters hit, with the Cubano-Ricano rhythms of the early '60s, has passed the lips of several generations - none hip to the hidden meaning.

After 1965, one of pop's great songwriting teams disbanded when Mort jumped ship. By sheer coincidence, Doc's wife walked out the same week. In crutches since polio took use of his legs during early childhood, a fall down a flight of stairs put him in a wheelchair, where he would thereafter remain.

Songs by Doc Pomus

A Mess Of Blues (1960)
Doin' The Best I Can (1960)
Surrender (1960)
Kiss Me Duick (1961)
His Latest Flame (1961)
Little Sister (1961)
Gonna Get Back Home Somehow (1962)
Night Rider (1962)
I Feel That I've Known You Forever (1962)
Suspicion (1962)
She's Not You (1962)
Long Lonely Highway (1963)
Viva Las Vegas (1963)
I Need Somebody To Lean On (1963)
Girl Happy (1964)
What Every Woman Lives For (1965)
Never Say Yes (1966)
Double Trouble (1966)

CD, "Elvis Chante Mort Shuman & Doc Pomus" (2000)

Kenny Dino, ne Doino, was born in Astoria, New York on July 12, 1939. His place in rock history was assured with his 1961 classic, "Your Ma Said You Cried In Your Sleep Last Night." Although he never followed this up with another hit, his early songs were influential to many. Elton John has said that he keeps Dino in his jukebox. On Robert Plant's album Manic Nirvana, "Your Ma Said..." reached a new audience and interest in Kenny Dino was renewed.

Goldmine: Tell me about the songs and the songwriters.

Kenny Dino: Doc Pomus. It was always Doc. I was always impressed with his songs. I did demos for Elvis. I did "Good Luck Charm." Doc gave me "Suspicion", that was supposed to be my song.

Goldmine: What happened?

Kenny Dino: It was after "Your Ma Said You Cried In Your Sleep Last Night" which I didn't want to do.

Goldmine: Why not? That was your big song and TOP 40 hit. Why did you record it?

Kenny Dino: I never wanted to do that song. I hated it. I felt it should go to Lonnie Donegan as a follow-up to "Does Your Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor On The Bedpost Overnight?" It wasn't for me. Steve Shlacks and Irv Glazer wrote it and they loved it. They got these young girls from Syosset High to do the backup part. They convinced me to do it and we cut it. We mixed it in Queens Village at Howie Farber's house. This skinny, nerdy kid who lived across the street kept dropping in and bothering us. Finally, we let him stay and watch from the corner. The kid was Al Kooper. When we gave the record to Dot, the head guy in New York listened to it and then threw it against the wall. He hated it. All the writers walked out of his office with their heads down, like it was the end of their jobs. I laughed. I didn't like it either. But Dot didn't know what to do with me, whether I should be Elvis or Roy Orbison. My manager, Al, went in to the office, they had a meeting and then he came out with the record. He told me that I was released from Dot. I went seven months without a label until I signed with Musicor. That whole period was terrible.

Goldmine: I don't understand--you had a hit!

Kenny Dino: Well, I really hated Aaron Schroeder. He was terrible. He put out "Your Ma Said..." because we sold it to him. My company produced it...Steve Shlacks and Howie Farber actually produced it but under my production company. I think we were one of the first artist-manager-writer teams to do our own production. That started from Dot Records on. I always produced myself."Your Ma Said..." was a hit and it ran up the charts at the same time "If You Gotta Make A Fool Of Somebody" made its run. Those two songs were always side by side on the charts.

Goldmine: You followed that with...

Kenny Dino: "Rosie, Why Do You Wear My Ring?"--a terrible song. I was always hearing the good songs but they wouldn't let me do them. I was friendly with all the Elvis writers, especially Sid Wayne, from Massapequa. He wrote a lot of songs for Elvis. He also wrote "See You In September" and a lot of other hits...good people. But again, the record companies didn't know what to do with me. They had to categorize me...Elvis or Roy Orbison? They tried the big strings thing...that didn't work. Then Doc played me "Suspicion." I remember...Doc played me the song on his piano at The Ansonia Hotel. I rushed the demo over to Aaron. I knew this was a great song. But, you see, Musicor had a problem. The other artist on the label was Gene Pitney. Everything went to Gene first. Also, this song was written for Elvis and it was on his publishing...and so on. At any rate, it turns out, nobody liked the song. I wanted to record it but they wouldn't let me. They felt that a Roy Orbison angle was the way I should go, but I was adamant. I wouldn't do the session they lined up for me unless "Suspicion" was charted. They agreed but there was a big fight over it...Everything was two-track then...I was to record live with a 32-piece orchestra...it was a big thing. When I came into the session, there were no charts for "Suspicion" and I flipped out. Aaron and I started arguing...it got nasty, I even took a swing at him. It was ugly but he deserved it...he was just a con artist and a phony. I walked out of the session. I went home leaving everyone, even the 32-pieces. I didn't care. The only song I wanted to do, I couldn't. Terry Stafford cut the song like 13 months later and it knocked The Beatles off the charts. And that was the end of that.