The Bolder Side of Herman’s Hermits

Ten hidden gems by some British Invasion teenybopper faves

Last time on Painted Dayglo Smiles, I mentioned a P.F. Sloan-penned hit for Herman’s Hermits: “A Must to Avoid”. That infectious number made it to the top ten in both the U.S. and Canada in 1965, but strangely enough, I hardly ever heard it play on the oldies radio shows I listened to during my late teens and early twenties. But, on the other hand, I would be serenaded by a bunch of other Herman’s Hermits hits... ad nauseum. For this Manchester, England group did amass quite a few top ten smashes in North America between 1964 and 1967: a dozen to be exact. And I found most of these to be, well, cute. Lightweight. Even downright wimpy. And not just by the rough and tough r’n’b standards of the Rolling Stones, the Yardbirds, and the Animals, but also compared to the more melodic beat group sounds of the Searchers, the Hollies, and the Zombies.

Some of the Hermits’ tunes I’m referring to are “I’m into Something Good”, “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter”, “I’m Henry VIII, I Am” and “There’s a Kind of Hush”. Sure, they would’ve been alright to listen to once in the odd while, but I’m afraid I caught them so often that they started to bug the hell out of me. And their other hits on heavy rotation on the oldies shows like “Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat?” and “Silhouettes” also did nothing to endear me to them. Which is why when I started collecting records by the British groups of the ‘60s, Herman’s Hermits releases were certainly a must to avoid.

By the way, over the years, I’ve become more appreciative of these songs. Maybe that’s me becoming, um, more mellow as I’ve gotten older? Anyway, as I eventually came to discover, I was actually not doing myself any favors by boycotting Herman’s Hermits material. You see, these supposed lightweights actually had some tricks up their sleeves and cut quite a few first-rate tracks that went against the grain of their hits crafted to appeal to young teenage girls.

Now, for the uninitiated, Herman’s Hermits were one of the most commercially successful English combos to hit North America after the Beatles began spearheading the British Invasion of the continent in early 1964. They had formed a year earlier as the Heartbeats in the same industrial city that also spawned the Hollies and Wayne Fontana and the Mindbenders. After they changed their name, what helped to clinch the strong popularity of Herman’s Hermits, aside from their catchy ditties, were the loveable looks and charm of their frontman Peter Noone. The teenybopping gals found him irresistible and Noone was in reality closer to their age than the fellows in the Fab Four or the Dave Clark Five. He was only sixteen when his group had their first hit, “I’m into Something Good” in August ’64.

Noone kind of resembled an adolescent version of John F. Kennedy who had been assassinated the previous November. On stage, he played up his youthful vulnerability with his innocent facial expressions and by, uh, sticking a finger in his mouth from time to time. Sure, that could’ve been enough to make guys who preferred the Stones or the Kinks gag, but they weren’t necessarily the Hermits’ audience in the first place. Noone had a pleasant singing voice which made him easily relatable to his listeners and his group’s hits were nicely produced by Mickie Most, who recorded grittier, more challenging fare by the Animals, Lulu, and Donovan.

But, much to my surprise, there happened to be a grittier side to Herman’s Hermits as well. One of my friends in the ‘90s, an avowed Beatles-hater, insisted that the Hermits actually had some strong songs of considerably higher quality than their radio-friendly hits. I didn’t get it: he detested Ringo, John, Paul, and George, but liked Peter Noone?! That just didn’t make any sense to me, but my pal stood his ground. And so, out of curiosity, I threw their 1966 soundtrack album, Hold On! onto the turntable of the record store where I worked, And, you know what? The LP was by and large good! Really good, in fact! Well, how did I like them apples? Or should I say, Hermits? A lot, to tell you the truth. I bought the bloody record and the more I played it, the more it grew on me.

Still, it took till the early 2000s for me to finally get around to investigating the group more thoroughly. I picked up a few more of their LPs and 45s and, much to my delight, found a good number of outstanding songs on them. It might’ve even gotten to the point of my becoming a card-carrying member of Herman’s Hermits’ fan club had it still existed. Following the footsteps of my Montreal friend in the ‘90s, it was my turn to talk up the group to anyone who’d listen. And what I’ll proceed to do now is single out ten top-tier Herman’s Hermits numbers released between 1966 and 1969.

“Gotta Get Away” (Feb.1966)

The meanest sounding song on the aforementioned Hold On! soundtrack. It’s a rhythm ‘n’ blues-based rocker with Peter Noone dropping the cutesiness to express dissatisfaction with his lot. There’s some strong guitar playing here, too, courtesy of the band’s Keith Hopwood and Derek “Lek” Leckenby. Hold On! was the first of two movies to star Herman’s Hermits, a silly comedy somehow involving the beat combo with the American space program and a NASA rocket launch. It’s a fun watch featuring some strong music including four tunes composed by P.F. Sloan and Steve Barri whom I discussed at length last time on Painted Dayglo Smiles. “Gotta Get Away” was written by another LA-based tunesmith, Fred Karger, who also came up with two more particularly worthy contributions to the film’s soundtrack: “Got a Feeling” and “Wild Love”.

“For Love” (June ’66)

A mid-tempo B-side with a mesmerizing slinky guitar riff as Noone warns the listener about a girl’s unreliability for loving. Penned by the Hermits’ guitarists Leckenby (the fellow sporting the horn-rimmed glasses) and Hopwood, as well as the group’s co-manager Harvey Lisberg who was also a songwriter, this tune musically and lyrically sets an evocative nighttime mood. I love the guitar solo, and I also like the way the rhythm speeds up at the end. “For Love” is one of the highlights of their decent August 1966 album, Both Sides of Herman’s Hermits, which features other fine tracks like “Little Boy Sad”, “Listen People”, and best of all, the next number on this list.

“My Reservation’s Been Confirmed” (Sept. ’66)

After having long considered Herman’s Hermits to be too twee for my tastes, imagine my happy surprise when I first heard this raucous little raver. Aside from appearing on the LP mentioned above, “My Reservation’s Been Confirmed” also graced a 7-inch single as the flip side of the group’s so-so top 5 cover of the Kinks’ “Dandy”. It’s a song that would’ve done the Rolling Stones proud and, fittingly, it’s a powerful Chuck Berry-influenced track that’s one of the loudest tunes in the Hermits’ discography. It’s also a group-penned original. Speed on indeed!  

“Jezebel” (March ’67)

Speaking of tough rockers, “Jezebel” offers definitive proof that Peter Noone and his cohorts had an aggressive streak that couldn’t be denied. A beat combo-styled adaptation of crooner Frankie Laine’s huge 1951 hit about a deceitful devil woman, Herman’s Hermits’ version is found on their spring 1967 album There’s a Kind of Hush All Over the World. Noone offers some of his best vocals ever on “Jezebel” and its relentless “Peter Gunn”-like guitar riff and blaring saxophone propel the song into overdrive. The long player on which “Jezebel” is found is worth picking up as it also includes two superb moody ballads composed by the fantastic Mancunian songwriter Graham Gouldman (more on him coming up) as well as the following irresistible piece of ear candy.   

“Rattler” (March ’67)

An introspective acoustic folk-pop number whose lyrics Peter Noone delivers sensitively, “Rattler” was penned by Bruce Woodley of the Australian group the Seekers, responsible for several easy on the ear hits in the ‘60s. After the Seekers left their homeland for the UK, Woodley met Paul Simon who was knocking around England as a folk singer before finding fame with Art Garfunkel. Woodley and Simon teamed up to write the exquisite “Cloudy” along with two other choice songs the American soft-rock band the Cyrkle cut: “Red Rubber Ball” and “I Wish You Could Be Here”. All three of these tracks can’t be beat when it comes to soul searching rumination and neither can Herman’s Hermits’ rendition of “Rattler”.

“Moonshine Man” (Oct. ’67)

In another vein completely is this slightly psychedelic thumper that owes something to the Beatles’ “Taxman”. A Hermits’ original, “Moonshine Man” takes up a most welcome place on what I consider to be their finest album, Blaze. The cloying tendencies which can unfortunately mar the band’s material are generally kept in check on the LP which kicks off with a solid cover of Donovan’s “Museum”. The other Blaze tracks I especially want to focus on are “Last Bus Home” and “Ace, King, Queen, Jack”, but I think that the song “Upstairs Downstairs” needs mentioning. This lovely pop number was written by Graham Gouldman, responsible for some of the Hollies and the Yardbirds’ best hits and who also contributed a clutch of top-notch compositions to Herman’s Hermits’ repertoire, including one of the tunes below.

“Last Bus Home” (Oct. ’67)

Peter Noone sings the story of a late night out on this moody up-tempo track written by fellow Mancunian Peter Cowap, a friend and collaborator of Graham Gouldman’s. Cowap was also a talented guitarist and, like so many British musicians of his generation, had started off playing in a skiffle group. He stayed within Herman’s Hermits’ circle and eventually joined them in 1971 after Noone had left the group. I love “Last Bus Home”, but I find that Cowap’s talents as a songsmith were put to even better use on the following song that makes Blaze finish off with a bang.

“Ace, King, Queen, Jack” (Oct. ’67)

When it comes to coughing up the hard-edged r’n’b goods, Herman’s Hermits put all their cards on the table, ahem, with this Bo Diddley-beat driven ditty. A Cowap/Noone co-write, the lyrics are appealingly nonsensical and end with silly voices and a quote from the Lonnie Donegan skiffle classic “My Old Man’s a Dustman”. For all its strong qualities, Blaze wasn’t even released in the UK. Here in North America, it sold poorly compared to the Hermits’ earlier albums, reflecting the downwards trajectory of the group. Their teenybopper following had gotten older and had moved on to other artists while The Monkees were now attracting the attention of young listeners. Ironically, that manufactured group’s biggest draw was a Manchester native, Davy Jones. Still, Herman’s Hermits persisted in releasing new singles that generally sold a lot less than their predecessors, at least on this side of the pond. Their last U.S. top 20 entry was the forgettable 45 of “I Can Take or Leave Your Loving”, a 7” that’s nevertheless notable for its B-side, “Marcel’s”.   

“Marcel’s” (Jan. ’68)

An appealing soft rocker, “Marcel’s” describes in some detail the eccentric characters found on a houseboat in London’s East End. Graham Gouldman collaborated with Peter Noone, guitarist Keith Hopwood, and manager Harvey Lisberg in coming up with this bouncy tune. In spite of their declining popularity, 1968 saw the Hermits starring in their second feature film, “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter”, which depicts the group getting involved with a greyhound dog race. (The Who, which had toured the States with Herman’s Hermits the year before, released a song about dog racing that same year. Strange coincidence.) The movie soundtrack, released in August of that year, is worthwhile for a couple of Graham Gouldman compositions and two Hopwood/Leckenby instrumentals, but none of these tracks are quite up to the standards of the last Hermits’ humdinger on my list.

“It’s Alright Now” (Nov. ’69)

You want Herman’s Hermits at their toughest? Well, you’ve got ‘em here in spades on the flip side of the “Here Comes the Star” single. If the A-side is a melancholic orchestrated ballad, “It’s Alright Now” is hard-hitting proto power pop that anticipates the sound of the Flamin’ Groovies’ mid-late Seventies output. Propelled by a killer guitar riff driving the song to its fiery conclusion, Noone, who helped to write the tune, doesn’t hold back on his impassioned vocals. I was absolutely knocked out by “It’s Alright Now” when I first heard it in early 2007 on Andrew Sandoval’s wonderful radio show, Come to the Sunshine. (https://wfmu.org/playlists/CZ) And to think that I had once considered the Hermits to be wimpy! Songs like this one proved that the group was easily capable of being quite the opposite.

The group soldiered on with Peter Noone for another year. He left in 1971 when Peter Cowap replaced him as lead singer, but Herman’s Hermits’ best years were definitely behind them. That year, Noone enjoyed one last big UK hit with a David Bowie cover. In 1980, he was the lead singer of a short-lived new wave combo called The Tremblers. He relentlessly plays the oldies group circuit to this day, and I was thoroughly enchanted by his charismatic performance when Noone performed with his backup musicians at the Canadian National Exhibition fair in August 2012 here in Toronto.

It was the unlucky fate of Herman’s Hermits to fall by the wayside by the early ‘70s, something that happened to many a once popular British beat group including the Dave Clark Five and the Searchers. Yes, the goody-goody reputation of the Hermits may have prevented the band from getting much critical respect over the decades, but we fans know better, including this late bloomer to the ample musical charms of Herman’s Hermits.