Gary Lewis and the Playboys: The Complete Liberty Singles

Though Gary Lewis gets zero respect from the rock community, there's enough solid West Coast sunshine pop on The Complete Liberty Singles to suggest that Gary, propped up producer Snuff Garrett and the legendary Wrecking Crew house band, was at the least a junior-grade Tommy James. For fans of bubblegum and breezy Sixties pop, this CD will be a welcome addition; to those who already enjoyed Lewis' seven Top Ten hits, the wealth of additional material will be a godsend.

The story goes something like this: Gary Lewis, son of famed comedian Jerry Lewis, uses his dad's influence to land a record deal, wherein a famed Los Angeles producer (Snuff Garrett) covers up his horrible voice and gifts him with a few mildly entertaining pop hits before the bubble bursts.

As with so many bits of conventional wisdom, this one paints too broad a picture; Gary and his buddies in the Playboys actually got their first gig at Disneyland without resorting to nepotism, for one thing. And, as the latest in Liberty's Complete Singles series proves, Gary could sing, once the suits let him, and he could also write songs which, aided by the glorious soundscapes of Garrett's production, still hold up quite well.

If that sounds like less than a ringing endorsement, it's not intended as such; you've already heard and made up your mind on "This Diamond Ring" and "Sure Gonna Miss Her," anyway. But Lewis' seven, count 'em, seven straight Top Ten hits suffer only in comparison to the Beach Boys, whose dreamy Spectorish pop is the Playboys' main artistic touchstone. For most of these a- and b-sides, Gary straddles the fence between Brian Wilson's lush, sad romanticism and the Monkees' proto-sunshine pop. The good news is that this comp, which essentially replaces the earlier Legendary Masters Series, proves that Gary only got better as AM radio forgot him -- aside from novelty dreck like "Time Stands Still" (where he imitates his dad) and "Looking For The Stars" (where he imitates everyone else in Hollywood), the non-hits work almost as well as the smashes, even towards the end of his career, where he went pure bubblegum with "Hayride," "Something Is Wrong," and the bizarre "I Saw Elvis Presley Last Night." Other surprises include two early organ instrumentals and some solid covers, including Arthur Alexander's "Every Day I Have To Cry Some."