Ralph Platt with Lorin Whitney: The Birds Sing His Praise, Volume 2
circa 1965 Sacred Productions Incorporated, Waco, Texas
circa 1965 Sacred Productions Incorporated, Waco, Texas
Please note! This record is undated and carries no copyright notices. Nevertheless, please read the audioblog disclaimer.
This rare, scratchy record is one of the most peculiar in my collection. I'm sure Ralph Platt thought his combination of somnamulent organ and shrill bird calls would evoke the majesty of nature and God's creation, but instead it makes my skin crawl.
Click the image for the full back cover.
Basically, each track follows the same formula: the turgid, sappy organ starts, and then Ralph whistles the melody, sounding like a theremin on valium. After a verse or two, the Jesus-addled whistler then launches into a random variety of actual birdcalls. It's like the Audubon Society's version of Tourette's syndrome.
This is music to test the limits of any fan of the unusual. Can you take it?
Hallelujah, What a Savior (2:38, 3mb mp3)
In Times Like These (3:03, 3.4mb mp3)
It Took a Miracle (3:09, 3.6mb mp3)
In The Garden of My Heart (2:13, 2.5mb mp3)
Just When I Need Him Most (2:53, 3.3mb mp3)
The Cross is Not Greater (2:24, 2.7mb mp3)
Links:
A list of whistling records, including several by Platt, who the webmaster calls "downright creepy". This excellent bare-bones page also has lots of great whistling mp3s.
Sacred Records discography. A long, very boring history of Ralph Platt's label.
8 comments:
I listened to the first one..I expected it to be "hymn-like"judging soley by the title, and it was..kinda..sorta.
It was sad to me..and I had enough sad Saturday evening.
The next to the last one..was horrid..sorry.
Then I listened to the last one, it was just freaking weird dear.
Have a good monday PSP :)
Featured whistler at Clifton's Cafeteria in LA?!?!?! We're talkin' serious celebrity here! You East-Coasters have no idea of the loftiness of that title!
I'm just drifting along as I listen, approaching the table of gooey desserts, the whipped topping stiff and tall...
p.s. I hope that you followed the directions on the cover and are checking your needles regularly.
And I thought the music of French composer Messiaen was weird. Little did I know that he had a compatriot at Clifton's Cafeteria (and Lulu Maude is right, that place was like the Disneyland of old-fashioned cafeterias complete with colored waterfalls).
There's no way to describe how creepy this album is.
I'd nominate it as a candidate for GO HOME* music of the year.
*You put it on at your house and people go home.
Dude. The Christian aspect puts it beyond strange and into the valley of the deeply bizarre.
Although I have to say, those are darn good bird calls.
Bird calls? Okay, I was hooked. But reeled in? No, no, no, I got away, and you'll never catch me again.
It's like a creepy funeral home. Drove my canaries nuts!
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