Hit or Miss
| November 9, 2021A few months later, Uncle Moishy Volume 2 came out, and it goes without saying that my prediction had come true
When producing an album, you always hope the songs you pick will be winners. Sometimes you call it right, and sometimes it’s the opposite. Abie Rotenberg told me that as soon as he finished composing “Hamalach Hagoel,” he knew it was special. When MBD and Mona composed “Moshiach,” they both knew they had a super hit on their hands. Rabbis Baruch Chait and Eli Teitelbaum composed “Min Hamaitzar” while they were on a plane together, and while Reb Eli a”h thought it would “take off,” Reb Baruch wasn’t sure. (It did.) I wonder if Joey Newcomb knew the true value of “Thank You, Hashem” when it came out, or if Benny Friedman had a good feeling about “Yesh Tikvah.”
I also had one of those experiences, when I just knew I’d discovered a winner. It was the early ’80s, and I happened to be having an “industry” conversation with the owner of an electronic store that sold Jewish records. When a woman who was searching through the record rack overheard me talking about my line of work, she introduced herself to me and asked me if I ever heard of Canadian children’s entertainers Sharon, Lois & Bram, who had put out several non-Jewish kids’ records, including one called Smorgasbord. She said she was from Toronto, and there, they were a well-known group. She assured me they had some great children’s songs on their records and urged me to listen to them. I made a mental note, and about a month later, when I happened to have been in a mall in Toronto, in the window of a record store called Sam Goody, there was a record called — you guessed it — Smorgasbord. I decided to invest $5.99 (Canadian) and purchase it.
As soon as I got back to New York, I put the LP in my record player (yes, that’s the thing with a needle that would rotate around a vinyl disc and make music) and spent a few seconds listening to each song. Some of them were old-time kiddie songs, others were jingles I didn’t connect with, to say the least, and I probably would have thrown the record out, but then, right between “Little Sally Saucer” and “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” there was a song called “Hey Dum Diddle Dee Dum.” As soon as I started listening, I was mesmerized. I listened to the song at least 30 times that day. I had never been attached to a song before, but I had absolutely no doubt that this was going to be an unbelievable Uncle Moishy hit. A few months later, Uncle Moishy Volume 2 came out, and it goes without saying that my prediction had come true.
Fast-forward a few years: One day, I received a phone call from an attorney who represented Sharon, Lois & Bram. He introduced himself, and said it had been brought to his attention that my group had used the song “Hey Dum Diddle Dee Dum” without permission. I was a bit surprised, because on the record, the song was listed as “traditional,” which means it doesn’t have a known composer or a copyright. I asked him to hold for a moment while I went to my record collection, and, just as I thought — “traditional.” The lawyer admitted that I was indeed correct: When the group put the song on their album, they had not known who the composer was, but had since found the composer, and purchased the song from him. I said, “Look, between you and me, I don’t think you have much of a case,” to which he conceded.
But he seemed like a nice guy, so before I hung up, I asked him how his clients ever heard our Uncle Moishy song. He said that one of the group members was doing a private performance in Eitz Chaim Day School in Toronto. He had performed numerous songs, but the kids just sat there, with no audience participation at all. When he started to sing “Hey Dum,” however, the entire school started to animatedly sing along with him. After the song was over, he asked the audience, “I see you liked that song! What other song should I sing?” They shouted out songs like, “Give a Little Tzedakah,” and “I Have a Mezuzah.”
As I was about to hang up, the lawyer said, “Oh, one more thing.” I was waiting for some legal bombshell but instead, he told me, “I really enjoyed your Uncle Moishy version of the song.”
I hung up the phone, smiled to myself, and said, “Well, Hey Dum Diddle Dee Dum!”
(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 885)
Oops! We could not locate your form.