An Old Friend from the 50s

By David “Cubby” Culberson

Forty-six years ago at this writing, in August of 1954, a record was released on the tiny Los Angeles label Dootone. It was a one-man company named after its owner, Dootsie Williams. He had started the label a year or so earlier. To say he was on a shoe string budget would be an understatement. A group of teenagers who attended various high schools in south-central Los Angeles and who called themselves The Penguins had already had a few demo tapes for Williams, and one record had been released with negligible sales. They were working again with Williams at his home in August of 1954 on some more practice tapes.

It was in this situation and atmosphere that “Earth Angel” was born. “Earth Angel” is often cited as the number one all time favorite among “Oldies” fans and collectors. In countless surveys of 50s music fans and vocal group enthusiasts, it is invariably voted the #1 love song of the 50s, almost always slightly edging out “In the Still of the Night,” by the Five Satins.

To call “Earth Angel” a classic doesn’t really do it justice. It is a masterpiece of simplicity and beauty. Not only is it a great record, but it is important historically because it was one of the first records by a black R&B group that white teenagers fell in love with and refused to accept the inevitable cover versions by bland white pop groups such as the Crew Cuts. That is what helped create Rock and Roll. It’s been re-recorded a million times by different artists, but only The Penguins’ original version has that delicate balance of beauty, simplicity, and total romantic innocence.

One of the things that has always struck me about “Earth Angel” is that, like the title, it has a ghostly sound—pure innocence. Records like “Earth Angel” proved that you don’t have to assemble a 40-piece orchestra of professional musicians to make memorable music that deeply touches people. Piano triplets and the intense, sincere harmony of lead singer Cleve Duncan and The Penguins are all that is needed for a classic like “Earth Angel.”

All of us have known an “Earth Angel” growing up. A pretty, slightly older girl that you had absolutely no chance with but idolized anyway. I’m not naming any names, but the initials of my “Earth Angel” were MMG, My Mystery Girl. When you saw your “Earth Angel” in the halls at school or at the White Midget and she said hi, all you could think of was something like,

“Earth Angel, Earth Angel, will you be mine...

I’m just a fool, a fool in love with you…”

So, happy birthday “Earth Angel,” and don’t worry about turning 46. In my memories you will never grow old.