We lost one of the most
popular teen idol singing stars in history the other day, when it was announced
that Bobby Rydell died at the age of 79.
Rydell was clearly from another time and place, but if you think that there is no link between him and, let’s say, Justin Beiber on the teen idol chain, please think again.
Rydell was a teen idol during the period that is so derided by music and rock and roll “experts" that it almost isn’t fully acknowledged as an important path to what followed next.
The singer was one of the top entertainers that young people gravitated to during 1959 to 1963, a period often looked down upon because of its relative blandness and because of what followed, some say as a result of this era being so un-rock and rollish, if you will.
During that era, Elvis had come back from the Army, but his music simply wasn’t the do all and end all that it had been prior to his being drafted.
Lots of other young singers filled the void of when he was drafted through his release, and most of them were literally sculpted from pieces of The King, but more to the point, they were crafted to be extensions of prior non-rock entertainers.
They were completely unthreatening, their music was almost non rock and roll, but the kids loved them and bought their records.
In that group you have Frankie Avalon, Fabian, Bobby Vee and a whole host of others, but Rydell, at least to me, was probably the best of this group.
Coming out of Philadelphia, he seemed to have the rock and roll nuances, even though he was marketed as being as squeaky clean as a newborn baby is.
His music kind of straddled the non-rock and rock idioms, led by “Wild One,” his biggest hit, which reached #2 on the charts in 1960.
Sure, a lot of his other hits were almost non-rock in nature, including “Volare” (#4, 1960) and “That Old Black Magic” (#21, 1961), but he had other hits, like “Wildwood Days” (#17, 1963) and “Swingin’ School” (#5, 1960) to keep him honest as a rock and roller.
As his face graced just about every teen magazine in the country, he then was cast as the nearly jilted boyfriend of Ann-Margret in the movie version of “Bye Bye Birdie,” which further cemented him as one of the most popular teen idols of the period.
As Hugo Peabody, he was a jealous guy who knew he had a doll in his girlfriend, but was envious when she swooned for Conrad Birdie, a "manufactured” pop star, almost like he was in real life, and he was very believable in his role ... art imitating life.
Although “Bye Bye Birdie” was a huge movie hit in 1963, later in the year, our president was assassinated, and the death of JFK signaled a turning point in the world and everything in it.
Even entertainment changed, and we weren’t looking for the squeaky clean pop idols anymore; we wanted performers with a bit of grit … and England provided us with just what we were looking for.
That fateful night in February 1964—just about two and a half months after we lost our president—when the Beatles performed on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” it was the end of the line for Rydell and many other performers as far as their hit-making years were concerned.
They simply could not compete with either the image of the Beadles and other British groups—the Dave Clark Five, Herman’s Hermits, the Animals and the Rolling Stones—nor could they compete with the songwriting prowess that these acts put on their records that were spewing out like lava from an active volcano.
Rydell had a few other charting singles during this early British Invasion period—his final big hit was “Forget Him” which reached #4 at the tail end of 1963 and into early 1964—but even lesser hit singles dried up for him, and by 1965, he was simply an act from another era.
He continued to release records through 1966, but he sat out 1967, one of the most pivotal years in rock and roll history, a testament to the fact that he was old news by this time.
Rydell then permanently went on the oldies circuit, one in which he embraced, and he became a popular live performer for the next 50 years or so, often touring with fellow former teen idols Fabian and Avalon.
All told, from 1959 to 1965, he charted 30 singles on Billboard’s Hot 100, an additional three singles on the Bubbling Under chart, and he had seven albums on Billboard’s Top Albums chart. A few of these chart placements were done in tandem with Cameo-Parkway record label mate Chubby Checker, perhaps the biggest hitmaker of the pre-Beatles era.
Bobby Rydell had a full career, with lots of ups and downs, including his admitting a few years back that he was not as squeaky clean as he had been portrayed, battling substance abuse for many years before conquering that plague.
R.I.P. Bobby, you done good.
Rydell was clearly from another time and place, but if you think that there is no link between him and, let’s say, Justin Beiber on the teen idol chain, please think again.
Rydell was a teen idol during the period that is so derided by music and rock and roll “experts" that it almost isn’t fully acknowledged as an important path to what followed next.
The singer was one of the top entertainers that young people gravitated to during 1959 to 1963, a period often looked down upon because of its relative blandness and because of what followed, some say as a result of this era being so un-rock and rollish, if you will.
During that era, Elvis had come back from the Army, but his music simply wasn’t the do all and end all that it had been prior to his being drafted.
Lots of other young singers filled the void of when he was drafted through his release, and most of them were literally sculpted from pieces of The King, but more to the point, they were crafted to be extensions of prior non-rock entertainers.
They were completely unthreatening, their music was almost non rock and roll, but the kids loved them and bought their records.
In that group you have Frankie Avalon, Fabian, Bobby Vee and a whole host of others, but Rydell, at least to me, was probably the best of this group.
Coming out of Philadelphia, he seemed to have the rock and roll nuances, even though he was marketed as being as squeaky clean as a newborn baby is.
His music kind of straddled the non-rock and rock idioms, led by “Wild One,” his biggest hit, which reached #2 on the charts in 1960.
Sure, a lot of his other hits were almost non-rock in nature, including “Volare” (#4, 1960) and “That Old Black Magic” (#21, 1961), but he had other hits, like “Wildwood Days” (#17, 1963) and “Swingin’ School” (#5, 1960) to keep him honest as a rock and roller.
As his face graced just about every teen magazine in the country, he then was cast as the nearly jilted boyfriend of Ann-Margret in the movie version of “Bye Bye Birdie,” which further cemented him as one of the most popular teen idols of the period.
As Hugo Peabody, he was a jealous guy who knew he had a doll in his girlfriend, but was envious when she swooned for Conrad Birdie, a "manufactured” pop star, almost like he was in real life, and he was very believable in his role ... art imitating life.
Although “Bye Bye Birdie” was a huge movie hit in 1963, later in the year, our president was assassinated, and the death of JFK signaled a turning point in the world and everything in it.
Even entertainment changed, and we weren’t looking for the squeaky clean pop idols anymore; we wanted performers with a bit of grit … and England provided us with just what we were looking for.
That fateful night in February 1964—just about two and a half months after we lost our president—when the Beatles performed on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” it was the end of the line for Rydell and many other performers as far as their hit-making years were concerned.
They simply could not compete with either the image of the Beadles and other British groups—the Dave Clark Five, Herman’s Hermits, the Animals and the Rolling Stones—nor could they compete with the songwriting prowess that these acts put on their records that were spewing out like lava from an active volcano.
Rydell had a few other charting singles during this early British Invasion period—his final big hit was “Forget Him” which reached #4 at the tail end of 1963 and into early 1964—but even lesser hit singles dried up for him, and by 1965, he was simply an act from another era.
He continued to release records through 1966, but he sat out 1967, one of the most pivotal years in rock and roll history, a testament to the fact that he was old news by this time.
Rydell then permanently went on the oldies circuit, one in which he embraced, and he became a popular live performer for the next 50 years or so, often touring with fellow former teen idols Fabian and Avalon.
All told, from 1959 to 1965, he charted 30 singles on Billboard’s Hot 100, an additional three singles on the Bubbling Under chart, and he had seven albums on Billboard’s Top Albums chart. A few of these chart placements were done in tandem with Cameo-Parkway record label mate Chubby Checker, perhaps the biggest hitmaker of the pre-Beatles era.
Bobby Rydell had a full career, with lots of ups and downs, including his admitting a few years back that he was not as squeaky clean as he had been portrayed, battling substance abuse for many years before conquering that plague.
R.I.P. Bobby, you done good.
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