Pop Records

Until 14 months ago, Johnny Mathis was best known as an athlete: he could high-jump 6 ft. 5 1/2 in., only 2 3/4 in. short of the Olympic record (world's record: 7 ft. 5/8 in.). Then the San Francisco State College sophomore started to sing in San Francisco nightclubs during his spare time. A record executive heard him, and now the talented young (29) Negro is the star of his own LP called Johnny Mathis (Columbia). As a singer his virtues are many, for he can warble a lyrical tune with husky tenderness and a fine sense of phrasing, light into a tbrchy tune with a dramatic sense of rhythm, or blend neatly with his cool jazz background, all with equal ease. In each style he has a distinctive little trick of rushing words here and there in a manner that once would have been called corny, but according to today's tastes, is passable. With Columbia's help. Singer Mathis may well leap into the lead in setting a new style.

Other pop records:

The Ballad of James Dean (Dylan Todd; RCA Victor). A hammy elegy to the late young film actor ("Farewell, O Prince of Players . . .") replete with funereal fanfare and theatrical allusion. The song seems to have caused a brain flash in Victor's repertory department, which has dished out three more records about popular personalities. Marlon Doesn't Love Me Anymore (Beverly Collins) is a ballad about a teen-ager who has received no answer to her latest mash note to "Marlon darlin', " and is considering resigning from her fan club. My Boy Elvis (Janis Martin) is a real rock 'n' roller ("Jump, wiggle and shake, go-go-go!"), while on The Elvis Bines a fellow (Otto Bash) complains he lost his girl to the Presley charm.

Brubeck Plays Brubeck (Columbia). Top Jazz Pianist Brubeck plays nine original compositions, tunes that possess charmingly childlike qualities but that are full-grown in their harmonic adventurousness. They have the added attraction of inspiring Composer Brubeck to pretty flights of improvising fancy.

A Heart Without a Sweetheart (Gale Storm; Dot). Songstress Storm's sweet-heartless heart is like a "ship without a harbor, or a bird without a wing," as she croons in duet with herself while a Salvation Army trumpet bleats behind her.

The Hi-Lo's, I Presume (Starlite LP). The most remarkable vocal group in the business, running the gamut from rich-hued harmonies of velvety texture (as in Speak Low) to barely controlled hysteria (in Button Up Your Overcoat). It's all great fun.

Just One of Those Things (Sammy Davis Jr.; Decca). In a day when many folks are uncertain of their identity, Singer Davis seems sure of his: Frank Sinatra. This is a fair sample in Frankie's tough, dry ("yeah!") style, would sound better if Sammy had Frankie's pretty voice. Nevertheless, the wild, finger-snapping finale takes the listener for a real ride.

Le Rififi (Larry Adler; Capitol). Top Harmonica Player Adler, still based on the continent after his brush with politics (TIME, June 5, 1950), shows his technique to be more spectacular than it ever was. The tune is the one he played on the soundtrack of the current French film of the same name.

Little Man in Chinatown (Jim Lowe; Dot). The tempo is high, the ricks are ticking and the song is a shaggy Pekinese. The teaser: "In case you wonder what this story is. here it is. here it is. here it is."

Tonight You Belong to Me (Liberty). A couple of breathy young voices identified simply as "Patience and Prudence" are applying a pig-tailed bounce to a tune that needed something of the kind to get it off the playroom floor.

Very, Very Villegas (Columbia). Argentine Concert Pianist Enrique Villegas. whose gears shifted to jazz a long time ago when he first heard Duke Ellington, ripples through some fine old tunes in a style that should put his listeners in high. Into his giggly musical hopper Pianist Villegas topples everything from burlesque to Bartok, turns out some unique fun.

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