While living at Mrs. Gorman's house, I used to do my homework at the kitchen table. This was partly because Mrs. Gorman liked to keep tabs on us while we did our schoolwork, and partly because, from there, I had easy access to the pantry. I used to eat a cracker or peanut or something whenever I'd get stuck on a problem. Taking a look at me back then, you'd probably assume I was stuck on a problem pretty damn often. (I won't argue that.)
One afternoon in October 1958, I was about halfway through my pre-algebra homework, and the ringing telephone provided the perfect excuse for a break. I jumped off my booster chair, toddled over to the phone, and answered it. Standard phone receivers are kind of a challenge for rodents to use, but we can manage OK if we hold them just right, and speak kind of loudly.
"Gorman residence - this is Theodore."
"Hello, Theodore. This is Dave Seville."
Dave. Honestly, I hadn't expected to hear from him ever again. And especially not so soon after our falling out. I wasn't sure what to say, so I just said "Hello."
"Listen - I want to apologize for what I said...you know, that day."
Just then, Simon walked into the kitchen, and I waved nervously to him. Simon looked over at me inquisitively, and I mouthed the word "Dave" to him. Simon's eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and he held out his paw for the phone receiver. Meanwhile, Dave had kept talking.
"I was just really upset. You and Simon didn't have anything at all to do with what happened, and Alvin...well, Alvin was probably just feeling left out."
"Uh, yeah," I managed to say. "Here - Simon wants to talk to you." I quickly handed the phone off to him like it was a hot potato. Simon let out his breath, set his teeth, and brought the receiver up to his ear.
"Hello, Mr. Seville. This is Simon... yes... yes... no, no hard feelings." Simon said that last part like there were plenty of hard feelings, which I guess there were. "No, I understand... well, currently we have a residency... the venue is named Pete's... three sets of rock and roll a night, Fridays Saturdays and Sundays... no, no label as of yet..."
Suddenly Simon looked even more mistrusting. "With Liberty? Is this in jest?... I suppose. We would be willing to hear your pitch but I cannot promise anything beyond that... of course... yes... you will bring a copy of the contracts with you? And the song? And I may study them at my leisure?... Then yes, we will meet with you... No, we are slated to perform at Pete's that night... I suppose... all right, we will see you then. Goodbye Mr. Seville."
"What was that about?" I asked as Simon hung up the phone.
"I should include Alvin in this conversation," said Simon. "This is where we erred the last time." He called Alvin down from our room, and took us all up to the treehouse. Only once we were all together up there did Simon explain the phone call.
Dave wanted us back. And Liberty did, too. They were willing to sign us to a long-term contract, with "roughly the same terms" as Simon's last deal. And Dave had a song he wanted all three of us to record - together.
"A rock and roll number?" I asked hopefully.
"Mr. Seville did not say. But if Mr. Seville's previous work is any indication, it will most likely be a vocal pop song."
"But one we can sing together," I said. "That'll be keen."
"I knew they'd come crawling back to us." Alvin said, grinning from ear to ear.
"I didn't," I admitted. "Why would Dave call us back, after all of the things he said?"
"I would hazard a guess and state that the relative failure of his most recent single likely prompted him to reconsider the situation," said Simon. "Bird on My Head" hadn't exactly set the charts alight, but Dave's next single "Little Brass Band" had fared even worse. It had barely scraped the bottom of the chart for two weeks. Liberty Records was probably screaming at him to make nice with his chipmunk neighbors, and get them back in the studio.
True to his word, Dave showed up about halfway through out first set at Pete's that Saturday. He sat at a nearby booth with his wife Armen, sipping cocktails and apparently enjoying the music. We were about to start the final song of the set when Alvin pointed out Dave in the audience.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest in the audience tonight - Mr. David Seville!" Not everybody at Pete's seemed to recognize the name, but most of the people there clapped anyway. Dave gave them a quick but embarrassed wave. Alvin went on, "A few months ago, one of us was fortunate enough to record a hit song with Dave, and I think we'd all enjoy hearing him perform the song with us. Dave?" Dave looked a bit ill at ease, and he held up his hands in protest. But Alvin was not to be dissuaded. "Come on, folks! Would you like to hear David Seville perform his hit song with us?" The crowd applauded, and Armen gave him a little nudge. Reluctantly, he got up and came onto the small stage, giving the audience another small wave. He readjusted Alvin's microphone to a more human-friendly height, and looked back at us nervously. I waved my drumsticks to get Dave's attention, then pointed at myself. Dave knew what that meant - follow the drummer, and he'll give you your cue. I opened with a flurry of drumbeats, then started a beat at the "Witch Doctor" tempo. Alvin and Simon watched me intently, and then played the opening four notes as I finished the last measure.
"I told the witch doctor I was in love with you," sang Dave, slightly uncertainly. We played the next four notes. "I told the witch doctor I was in love with you." Next four notes. "And then the witch doctor, he told me what to do, he said that..."
I launched into my "oo ee oo ah ah ting tang walla walla bing bang" line. Dave looked back at me and smiled. And, to me anyway, the smile seemed very genuine. From one musician to another. Just the joy of making music. It felt really good to perform this song with the man who had written it, and who had asked me to perform on it.
When we finished the song, the crowd applauded enthusiastically - hey, a live performance of a recent number one hit by the original artist, at this small club! - and Dave took a bow with us. None of us knew it at the time, but this performance would eventually take on a special significance. It was the only time all four of us performed "Witch Doctor" live in front of an audience. In fact, it was the only time all four of us performed anything live in front of an audience.
We left the stage and joined Armen at their table. I liked Armen - she had put up with three noisy teenage rodents in her house better than most people probably would. Alvin and I chatted with her while Simon and Dave discussed business. At the end of the break, Simon had both an unsigned contract and a handwritten music sheet to take home.
The next day after church, the three of us went down to the basement and huddled around the song. It was more of a sketch than a song - eight vocal lines, a melody and basic chord progression. Alvin and Simon played it on their ukuleles while we ran through it the first time, all of us taking the melody line. Afterward, we paused and looked at each other.
"A Christmas waltz!" I said, impressed. "I like it, but it's awfully short." Even at a modest tempo, this song wouldn't be longer than a minute or so.
"Indeed. Perhaps Mr. Seville is working on an additional verse," guessed Simon.
Alvin grinned. "A hula hoop! That's great! I'll take that line." He motioned to both of us. "Let's get our parts down. If Dave writes more lyrics, we can just follow this verse's lead."
That made sense, so we started arranging the vocal parts. We chose to keep a pretty simple harmony on it. It was a kid's song about wanting toy planes, so there was no need to do anything fancy. Once we finished the arrangement, we sang it through once, with Simon playing a simple bass line on the ukulele. As we got to the end, I thought we might just have something here - a thought immediately confirmed by an outside observer.
"Boys?" Mrs. Gorman walked down the steps, which is something she never did while we were rehearsing. "What was that song you were just singing?"
"It's a new song that Liberty Records wants us to sing," explained Alvin.
"It's very nice. Very pretty. Much nicer than that rock and roll noise you boys seem to like so much."
Mrs. Gorman wasn't the only one who loved our arrangement. When we sang it to Dave over the phone, he flipped. He insisted that we come to the studio the next weekend to record it. After we got off the phone with him, I noticed that Simon had perhaps the most evil smile I've ever seen on him.
"They love our arrangement, and Christmas is not far off," he pointed out. "This puts us in an extremely advantageous position."
"Why's that?" asked Alvin.
"Because time is now of the essence," Simon explained. "In order to release and promote a Christmas record, Liberty must release the song as soon as possible. Which means they may make some concessions to us in order to ensure our cooperation. Let me see the contract again."
He spent the rest of the week attacking the contract, trying to come up with the best deal he thought he could possibly arrange. The biggest concession he got for us was a provision giving us a percentage of the profits from all Chipmunks-related sources of income, to be placed into trust funds until we reached adulthood. At the time, I had no idea what "all Chipmunks-related items" would entail, but eventually it included toys, books, games, clothes, you name it. I have no idea if Simon saw any of that coming or not, but I certainly can't argue with the results.
For this recording - and all future ones - we didn't have to stand on a chair. They had finally arranged to have a microphone set low enough that we could stand on the floor to sing. While they were putting it in place, I glanced over at the sheet music they had set up. I only saw the one verse, so I called out to Dave.
"Hey - is there a second verse?"
"Uh, no - just the one."
"...really?"
Dave explained, "We'll do an instrumental break, then come back in on line five for the second go round, then do a repeat of the final line."
Alvin, Simon and I looked at each other and shrugged. Well, we'd see what it sounded like. We did our mic check (yes, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" again) and then waited for everybody else to get ready.
"OK," said Dave, sounding a bit nervous. "We're just going to give it a run-through to see how it sounds. Let's just kind of have fun with it, and see how it goes." Dave nodded to the conductor, who started the band going. Then Dave looked over at us with a rather forced smile.
"OK, you chipmunks - ready to sing your song?"
I piped up. "I'll say we are!"
Simon added, "Sure, let's sing it now."
"OK, Simon?" Dave asked.
Simon looked confused, since he had just spoken. But he answered, "OK."
"OK, Theodore?"
Remembering Dave's suggestion to "have fun with it", I answered in the lowest voice I could. "O...K."
"OK, Alvin?" Alvin didn't answer. He was staring off to the side, apparently engrossed in something. I nudged him but he waved me away. "Alvin?...AL-VIN!" Dave finally yelled.
"OK!" Alvin yelled back, just as our cue hit.
"Christmas, Christmas time is near..." we sang. Well, I thought, Alvin messed this one up. No big deal, though. It's just the practice take.
We hit the instrumental section, and I closed my eyes and started bopping my head in time to the music. They had given this little song a very pretty arrangement. Hearing Dave's voice brought me back to the here and now.
"OK, boys, get ready...that was very good, Simon."
"Naturally," said Simon, with his usual lack of modesty.
"Very good, Theodore." I was surprised to hear a compliment from Dave, so all I could do was giggle. Dave went on. "Alvin, you were a little flat. Watch it there, Alvin." Again, Alvin wasn't paying any attention. "Alvin? AL-VIN!"
"OK!" Alvin growled, cutting it really close this time.
"Want a plane that loops the loop..." we continued singing, continuing on as if nothing had happened.
Once the song ended, Dave said, "Very good, boys," but he looked awfully unsure of himself.
"Let's sing it again," I said, thinking the next time, Alvin wouldn't be so inattentive.
Dave apparently was having second thoughts about the whole thing. "No, boys, let's not overdo it."
"What do you mean - 'overdo it'?" I asked.
"We want to sing it again!" said Simon.
Soon, all four of us were arguing on top of each other as the musicians slowly dropped out one by one. We were so intent on getting our points across that we almost didn't notice Mr. Waronker walking up. He looked like he was furious with us, and I quickly clapped my hands over my mouth. Simon and Alvin both looked horrified as well.
Then I realized - Mr. Waronker wasn't angry. He was laughing. Laughing so hard that his face was turning red. "You boys..." he managed to gasp out.
Alvin grinned. "That's the take! That's the take!"
Dave looked at Alvin as if he'd lost his mind. "Alvin, be serious. This is a pretty holiday song. We can't release it with us arguing like that!"
Everyone else pretty much agreed with that, and Dave decided to give it one more go. We set back up and did another take, this time completely straight. Dave introduced us all by name, and said "these chipmunks have a wonderful holiday number for all you people out there". We sang it, let the instrumental break run, and then closed it out with a slow last line. And as the song ended, I thought "well, that was nice". But something was nagging at me. It didn't seem complete somehow. I still felt the song was missing a second verse or something.
Alvin kept telling Mr. Wanoker that the first take was the one to use, and Mr. Wanoker seemed inclined to agree with him. But Dave adamantly said he wanted the second take. We left the studio and headed home with everything still unresolved, and Dave still a bit upset at Alvin.
Despite the rather strained recording process, it felt really good to get to record with my brothers. I was smiling to myself all through school the next day, and when I got home, on a whim, I decided to go over to Dave's house to say thank you. I biked over and rang the doorbell, and Armen told me to head on into Dave's studio. I found him there, sipping coffee and looking a bit haggard.
"Oh, hello, Theodore," he said a bit distractedly.
"Hi, Dave!" I chirped. "I just wanted to say thanks for getting us in the studio yesterday! It was a lot of fun getting to record with my brothers."
"Oh, that's OK," Dave said, still sounding distracted. "You boys did a good job."
"What's the matter?"
"Oh, Mr Waronker wants to put your song out immediately, but we don't have anything to put on the b-side."
"You want me to call my brothers? We could lay down 'Let's Do the Chipmunk Rock'," I suggested.
Dave smiled. "Well, we'd have to get you songwriter contracts, and I don't think Mr. Waronker wants to rush into that. I'm just trying to pound out a piano instrumental really fast."
"How's it coming along?" I asked, a bit curious. I had never actually watched Dave writing a song before - only heard it from behind closed doors.
"OK, but I'm not quite sure where to go with it. Here, let me play it for you." He placed his hands on the piano and started playing a bit of a rhythm and blues shuffle. After the first few measures, I started nodding my head in time...and then I began slapping my front paws against the side of the piano, creating a backbeat. Dave's eyes opened a bit wider, but he played on. "Keep going," he urged. I changed the beat slightly, to something a bit more complex, as he added a quick arpeggio.
"Hey!" he said, "That's almost good!" I giggled and kept the beat going until he suddenly finished the piece with a low chord.
"That's it," he said. "Let's get down to Liberty and cut this number."
I called Mrs. Gorman to let her know I'd be going to the studio with Dave, and then we headed right over. When we got there, the only other person there was the engineer Sparks. He set up the microphones, then convinced Dave that having me pound on the side of the piano would have too much of a "dead" sound. So I was set up with a pair of tom toms to play instead. On a whim, Dave invited Sparks to clap along on the beat as we played. And two takes later, we had "Almost Good" finished.
Mr. Waronker went with his gut, and released the first take of the Christmas song. I can't say I loved the song all that much, but I was still extremely proud to see our name "The Chipmunks" across the label, with each of our individual names underneath. For some reason, on this first release, we were listed as "Alvin, Theodore and Simon". Soon afterward, they swapped it to "Alvin, Simon and Theodore". And no, I didn't mind being listed last - as long as I was on there somewhere! I didn't even mind that Dave's name was added at the bottom. After all, he had had a number one song less than a year before, so he probably had some name recognition.
There were other things about the record I wasn't crazy about. For instance, there was the title they gave it - "The Chipmunk Song". It was accurate, as far as it went, but it heavily implied that this was going to be it. That this would be the only song we'd ever record. And hearing Dave ask "ready to sing your song?" at the start of the record did nothing but underline that implication.
Another thing I didn't like was the picture sleeve that they eventually made for the record. Usually, for picture sleeves, record labels use a photograph of the artist. But instead, Liberty Records had somebody draw a cartoon picture of three chipmunks around a Christmas tree, and they used that instead. The artist at least did a passable job at drawing three cartoon chipmunks, but all three of the chipmunks looked identical. No glasses on Simon, no extra pounds on me, nothing at all to differentiate them. All three of them are wearing red footed pajamas, with only an initial on each one to indicate which chipmunk was which. Simon was drawn throwing the plane that can presumably do loop-de-loops. For some reason, I was drawn using the hula hoop, even though that's clearly Alvin singing that line in the song. Alvin, on the other hand, is looking sad or embarrassed, with his front paws behind his back. I'm assuming the artist was trying to indicate that Alvin didn't get anything for Christmas because he had misbehaved during the recording. Instead, he looks like he just crapped his pants - something I razzed Alvin about a few times.
Despite being a bit miffed about it, I really didn't give that much thought about not having our photo on the sleeve. If you had asked me back then, I would've guessed that we'd probably have our photo on the next one. But we didn't. In fact, we never had our photo on a Chipmunks single or album, ever. At first, it was Liberty Records thinking that the cartoon drawings were simply a more acceptable way to present us to kids (and adults) than our photo would've been. But as the years went on, the drawings accomplished something else - maintaining a sense of continuity that had long since passed.
Photo or no photo, the record as a monster hit. It reached number one - the first Christmas song to do so since "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" had almost a decade earlier. The record actually stayed at number one through most of January, too, which I don't think anybody could've predicted. In all, it sold over four million copies. Despite all of that, I guess it's no surprise that I ended up kind of hating this song. For years, when I heard it, I only heard Alvin sort of screaming for attention over a pleasant little holiday number. The song also became something of a template for way too many Chipmunks songs that followed.
Time has mellowed me, though. I can admit this now, several decades on, but Alvin had it right. Without his deliberate miscues, it was just a bunch of rodents saying they wished it was Christmas. Alvin's screw-ups added a lot more personality to the record which people really connected with. I still don't like hearing the song much, and wish people didn't immediately think of it whenever they find out who I am. But I at least understand why they do.
Back at the start of 1959, though, I was over the moon. For the second time in eight months, I was singing on the number one song in the country, and playing drums on the flipside, too. I was excited for the future, and looked forward to recording bigger and better things. But not surprisingly, Dave and the folks at Liberty Records had other ideas.