New Pop Records

K. C. Douglas (Cook LP). A latter-day blues shouter and guitar man combines a primitive manner with sophisticated trimmings, yesterday's feeling with today's subjects. Sample blues lyric:

Hey, Mama you look so fine Ridin' around in that Merc'ry forty-nine, Cause I'm crazy 'bout a Merc'ry Yas, I'm crazy 'bout a Merc'ry Ford.

"Fats" (Fats Waller; Victor, 2 LPs). A welter of Wallerana. including the insolent ("I feel so effervescent today") voice, the bouncy piano that somehow sounds ribald, his second-rate sidemen and some previously unreleased material.

Teen-Age Dance Session (Dan Terry & his Orchestra; Columbia LP). A big, smooth band follows the tradition of the swinging '305 in eight new tunes with teen-age titles (Denim Blues, Saddle Shoe Shuffle). Terry plays some pretty, growly trumpet, and the ensemble is fine.

Toshiko (Norgran LP). A Japanese girl pianist called Toshiko plays jazz in the style of Bud Powell, crisper than Marion McPartland, less mellow than Oscar Peterson (who discovered her in a Tokyo nightclub), but able and inventive.

Cinnamon Sinner (Tony Bennett; Columbia). "She's got sugar-dipped kisses and cherry-tipped charms," warbles Tony hoarsely, and goes on to rave about the lady's other sweet-flavored assets.

Mama Doll Song (Patti Page; Mercury). Mother instinct takes over, with bosomy Patti lovingly imitating the cry of a mechanical doll in waltz tempo, all undisturbed by Freudian implications. Bestseller-bound.

Oop Shoop (CrewCuts; Mercury). "C'mon, baby, I need your love tonight," is the gist of this message, unless the title means something else. The male quartet that smashed the top with Sh-Boom is probably going to repeat its success with this unpleasant item.

When I Stop Loving You (Frank Sinatra; Capitol). The breeze that accompanies a few welcome cliches might waft this melodious ballad into popularity.

Wide-Screen Mama Blues (Stan Freberg; Capitol). The top-tune business, particularly that muscular field called "rhythm and blues," gets a heartfelt razzing. "WideScreen Mama," bellows Funnyman Freberg (under the screaming riffs), "don't you Cinerama me."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.