The guy was obviously scared out of his wits watching them destroy the duplicating equipment with bats. Most likely, he didn’t know about their MO; that they acted like marauders mainly for show, smashing the stuff to bits–cursing up a storm while they did it.
Moishe could imagine how the guy felt…Even cheap vinyl cutters cost an arm and a leg…Plus, powerlessness is a terrifying thing.
He was and expert on this because he had run away from home when he was thirteen years old. He lived on the streets of New York in the last two years of the Great Depression, in the days of breadlines a mile long and soup kitchen lines even longer.
People starved back then...Well, they didn’t really starve, but they got skinny…At least poor people got that way...Poor people who lose everything always have it worse than rich people who lose everything…He knew this too, from experience, since he had been both.
It got so bad, during the depression, that he rode freight trains, so bad that he walked for miles and miles. It got so bad that he hitchhiked all the way to Florida to escape it…There were groves and groves of orange trees in Florida. Lemon trees grew in people’s yards there…
On the way he ran into some very bad people. He ran into some stand-up people, too. Yes, even some nice people. But mostly he just ran into suckers.
He became meaner. He learned to use his large, meaty fists better. He became more proficient with a knife. And he learned, this, the most important lesson of all: You have to have friends. Without friends, you’re toast.
By the time he was old enough to join the Navy, the country was smack dab in the middle WWII. But he was prepared…
Big Nate, Moishe’s bodyguard, doused the bootleg records with gas. The records were strewn all around the guy’s feet. The guy was tied to a chair. He was crying. Nate struck a wooden kitchen match.
“Whose paying you?” Moishe asked, evenly.
“Nobody!” The guy cried.
“Don’t lie to me.” Moishe said, raising his voice just a little. “Whose equipment is this?”
“Nobody’s paying me!” the guy cried louder. “All the equipment is mine.”
Then he told them how he was new in town. That his baby was sick and in the hospital. That his baby needed an operation.
Moishe nodded to Nate. Nate extinguished the match with his fingertips.
“You’d better not be lying to me,” Moishe warned, jabbing the guy’s chest with his wide, stubby fingers.
Then they untied the guy and hustled him into Nate’s Cadillac. They drove him to the hospital…The guy wasn’t lying…Moishe paid for the baby’s operation.
∼
The first time Tommy James got wind that something might be wrong was early in his relationship with Morris Levy. Very early. It was 1966. He was in New York, promoting his record Hanky Panky, which was selling like hotcakes in his hometown of Pittsburgh. To his pleasant surprise, he got a few nibbles from some of the big record companies immediately.
But the independent label just down the street from the hotel he was staying at, Roulette Records, was less interested. They weren’t rude or anything–it was more of a don’t call us, we’ll call you vibe.
The next morning, when James showed up for his appointments, the same record executives who had been interested the day before, suddenly no longer were. They couldn’t get him out the door fast enough. “You belong to Roulette. You’re Moishe’s boy,” one of them blurted out.
By the time he circled back to Roulette, he had been roundly rejected. Morris Levy was waiting for him. The Brahman bull of a man was all smiles and back slaps. “Welcome to Roulette,” he said. Then he showed James around the offices and introduced him to the family.
Of course James was skeptical, but he wasn’t stupid either. And he was hungry. So he signed a contract with Levy and Roulette.
Thus began Tommy James and the Shondells years long association with the hitman… Well, the press actually labeled him the godfather of the record business, but James thought the former moniker fit him better. That’s because Morris just cared about hits and hits only. Albums were of little consequence to him.
And there was a reason for Levy’s penchant for the single that, at the time, James couldn’t fathom..And Tommy James was a pretty smart operator…
Yes, there was the cutout business that Levy had engineered with his own labels and with K-Tel records, (cutouts were hit compilation albums of old, previously released catalog material) but James got hip to that quick…
See, what Tommy James may have never known–In fact, what few people even know today–is the deal Levy had with International Tape Cartridge Corporation. ITCC they called it. Their CEO, Larry Finley, was at the forefront of the 8-track tape revolution.
That’s right. Clunky, clumsy 8-track tape, of all things, plays a big role in this thing.
In 1966, Ford motor company introduced the 8-track player in the Mustang, the Thunderbird and the Lincoln. The 8-track was an ideal medium for hit single compilations, just what Finley speculated that people wanted to listen to while they were driving. And Morris Levy owned catalogs and catalogs of hits.
Under the agreement, ITCC would supply the 8-track tape cartridges and Levy would supply the hits. By 1967, virtually every car on the streets would have an 8-track tape option…You do the math.
But back to Tommy James…In spite of a shady reputation and all of the even shadier characters that congregated from time to time at Roulette, (characters like Genovese crime family boss, Tommy Eboli and Anthony “Fat Tony” Salerno, who headed the DeCalvacantes, the New Jersey faction of the Genovese family) Tommy actually got along very well with Morris Levy.
That is, until the former would work up the nerve and ask the latter for some of his own money. Morris would get very surly then.
“Cut Tommy a check for ten thousand,” he would yell to his secretary, finally, after exhausting the singer with questions, badgering him with expenditures and stressing him out with thinly veiled threats. “You want royalties, go to England,” was another favorite Moishe saying.
Even more disturbing were the things Tommy James personally witnessed at Roulette. Like the ritual that would happen when Moishe got a call from his music industry friends (the big boys at CBS, Capital, RCA) complaining about record bootleggers:
Morris would call his bodyguard and business partner into his office where there were always baseball bats leaning against the wall. The same wall with the plaque that blasphemously read “Oh Lord, Give me a Bastard with Talent.”
“Let’s go,” Morris would say to Big Nate (the Korean War vet who ran Calla Records, a Roulette subsidiary) and off they’d go with baseball bats in hand. Tommy saw this with his own eyes…
And then there were the stories Tommy heard (some from Levy himself) about what happened to people who crossed him…And to people who badgered him about their royalties… And about the copyrights to their songs…People like Jimmie Rodgers…
No. Not the yodeling, Jimmie Rodgers. The other one. The rockabilly Jimmie Rodgers who did that terrible song Honeycomb…Yes, that Jimmie Rodgers. He got his head caved in by a crooked cop that Morris allegedly hired…Yeah, Jimmie F. Rodgers. He survived but was never the same. Brain damage…
Then there was Lloyd Price’s manager, Harold Logan…Lloyd Price did that song Personality. And he did Stagger Lee…Anyway, Harold Logan was involved with the mob. The scuttlebutt is that he owed Moishe a lot of money…He turned up dead. Shot to death…
And James Sheppard, of Shep and the Limelites…Shep riled up some of the younger artists–especially some of the younger Black artists–at Roulette. He spoke out, warning musicians to stay away…Shep got shot, too…Dead.
But, perhaps most significantly, there was this: Morris was good friends with Allen Klein. They were such good friends that he gave Klein’s son just about the most extravagant bar mitzvah gift anyone had ever heard of…Israeli bonds.
That’s right. Before Allen Klein ripped off The Rolling Stones and broke up The Beatles, he was the former business manager of Sam Cooke…
Guess who ended up with Sam Cooke’s catalog?..
No. Not Morris Levy. He was a small fish compared to Allen Klein. Klein bought the Cooke catalog from Barbara Campbell, Sam’s wife, for a hundred thousand dollars. That was his first huge acquisition.
Anyway, Tommy James knew virtually nothing about these things in 1966 when he was just starting out with Roulette. He had a number one record. (But it was really more of a novelty tune.) Levy was happy but he was pushing James hard on the road, where they toured in a stinky station wagon and in the studio where he pressured James for a quick follow up hit to Hanky Panky.
That’s when whispers, when rumors, began to circulate around Roulette about stuff going on in Los Angeles…About what really happened to Sam Cooke…And Bobby Fuller…
To be continued…
This is addictive indeed, Pam. I had Tommy James records, and an 8-track player in my Ford Capri, in the early 1970s. Despite my Dad working in the record industry in the UK, I had no idea. So thanks for filling in the blanks of my late teens. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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You’re welcome. High praise…I’ll take it! Ha! No…Seriously, thanks for reading.
–Pam
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Makes you wonder just how evolved the music business is today,doesn’t it??Loving this series!
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Thanks, Michael. Maybe the music biz is more honest now, than ever before…which isn’t saying much. The big labels are still very powerful, but the independents have a lot more competition from unconnected entrepreneurs and it’s the independents that were mobbed up so badly…I guess…
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I think we have returned to the days of the 50’s in the way the business is driven more by single sales then album sales. How many artists today actually reach a 4th or 5th album? Not too many….
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Pam, this fascinating story reminds me of a documentary I just watched on Netflix called “The Black Godfather” about Clarence Avant, unknown to me until now, who was a key player in putting together artists, deals,etc and who also tells of the Mafia involvement with hitmakers. You might find it valuable to your series.
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Thank you for the recommendation. I will look into it. I’m sure it will be helpful. And thanks for reading.
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I’m looking forward to the next installment. I didn’t know Tommy James was involved in this. I have heard stories of him asking for money on the strip during his fame…I guess I know why now. Thank you, Pam.
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I appreciate you reading, Max. The next installment will be the conclusion. Then I will reference the books and articles I’ve read for this series. It won’t be a formal reference page but it’s something.
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It is totally fascinating. I have read mostly about British mafia type guys controlling bands like the Small Faces… seems like in America they were much more intense. Even Gotti got into it in the 70s to a smaller extent.
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Yes, that’s true. The record business was as entrenched with the mafia as was/is prostitution, gambling and drugs. All the famines shared in it. At that time, if you were in the record business you were involved with mobsters in one way or another. It was unavoidable. It was more of a roll of the dice as to who you ended up with. You didn’t want to be hooked up with Morris Levy. That was about as bad as it got, for the artists. Especially, Black artists. As it turned out, he actually liked Tommy James. That probably has something to do with Tommy James being alive right now.
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That is just chilling. Not only was their money up for grabs but their lives.
I’ve told people The Beatles were VERY lucky they ended up with Brian Epstein who actually cared about them.
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Pam, this has been a fascinating series. I knew the music business was down and dirty back then but this is most than I realized. Great stuff!
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Thanks, John. It opened up my eyes too.
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What a great opening, too, into the world of the mobster. You almost want to feel sorry for him: 13-year-old runaway during the Depression, living on the street! But you end up definitely NOT feeling sorry for him viewing all the death and destruction in his wake. He definitely took all his pain and suffering and lack of love out on the world.
This is a scary series, and obviously so informative.
On a side note of six degrees of separation…my husband is from New York and he said he ran into Gotti once coming out of a deli. He said Gotti glanced at him politely as they moved past one another. *shudder* !!
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Thanks. Yes, I do have some sympathy for Morris Levy, for the way he grew up and the things he endured. Those gangsters of his generation and older had it rough. Just about all of them. It was a more modern version of Gangs of New York. But, no, it doesn’t excuse the terror they reigned down on others.
Yes, that’s chilling to brush shoulders with evil like your husband did.
Thanks for reading.
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Great post 🙂 The number of shady people involved in the music business during this particular episode let alone era makes one wonder If crooked behavior came with the job back then. Anyway, keep up the great work as always 🙂
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Yes. it was extremely mobbed up back then. Everybody who worked in it rubbed shoulders with a mobster. It was inevitable.
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Great series- I had forgotten about Tommy James and The Mob- remember hearing stuff on that years ago but totally forgot. Agree with Max’s comments- The Beatles were extremely lucky in their careers to be surrounded for the most part by good people–until towards the end…
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Well, The Beatles and The Stones were in that upper tier. Kind of like the banks that were “too big to fail.” It’s true. Sam Cooke was a very big star–he was also a very controversial star. He was poised to take the Nat King Cole thing all the way. Remember that Nat King Cole had a very successful TV show in the 50s, I think. Anyway, the network yanked his show, despite it making lots of money. That’s because Nat King Cole was black. Sam Cooke was poised to take it to the next level and that was pushing the boundaries in 1964 too far.
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I have always thought if Chuck Berry had been white instead of black in the 1950’s he would have been as large as Elvis. IMO he was better. But both of them great of course. A shame.
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It is, but I don’t think so about Berry. He couldn’t move or sing like Elvis. Elvis was as much about physical production as he was anything. He tapped into a vein. It wasn’t by accident. He was visionary, just as Berry was but in a different way. We could argue about the relevance of vision and I would say Berry would win out on pure artistry, but at one time, though it was very brief, Elvis synchronized artistry and physical appeal and it was revolutionary.
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“You want royalties, go to England,” lol that’s funny.
Always a top read Pam. Went down well with my fry up read.
Oooooo what a shady bunch all these lunatics are!
Tommy James and the Shondells would go to have one of the most perfect musical moments on Breaking Bad as Jesse and Walt create their blue tinged crystal meth and Crystal Blue Persuasion comes out the speakers. Perfection. Haha it might not of been what poor Tommy was singing about but it fitted like a glove.
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That was a beautiful cinematic moment (I know it’s TV but it’s still cinematic). I’ve always loved the song too. And, it’s definitely NOT what Tommy James is going for. It’s a beautiful, spiritual song with hippy sensibilities. Ha!…And, true that.
I have to admit that I have a bit–and I’m talking just a minuscule, tiny bit–of affection for Morris Levy. Nonetheless, he was a very, very scary, repulsive dude.
“You want royalties, go to England.” Brilliant, no doubt.
Thanks, Mikey.
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