What an amazing discovery. Hard to believe she was only 13 when she sang this. Her seeming knowingness combined with her seeming innocence is such a powerful combination. Puts me in mind of "Little" Stevie Wonder and Jackson 5-era Michael. Thanks for sharing this.
Thank you very much for bringing back someone who would otherwise have been lost to obscurity. I agree with your impression of a girl just beginning to emerge from childhood. There is a definite sense of innocent sweetness that flows from her voice.
In the late 1950s and early 60s, when young black women singers rose to the zenith of American pop culture, there was more of an innocence to the tone and lyrics of popular song. For example, the Dixie Cups, the Shirelles, the Crystals. By 1965 when this track was released, the sweet purity of a voice like Margaret Mandolph’s was being replaced by the heat of songs like the Supremes’ “Love Is Like An Itching In My Heart”, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas’ “Nowhere to Run” (a song about race if ever there was one), and more mature singers like Fontella Bass and Barbara Mason. The Beatles had their first hit stateside in 1964 with “I Want To Hold Your Hand”, which created the tsunami of self-contained British boy bands that pushed the Brill Building songwriters (including Cynthia Weil, who co-wrote this song) and their girl-interpreters out of vogue. 1965 was the beginning of the end for the girl groups, and for the glittery, pure longing and femininity of the love expressed in this track.
There is a choir of lost girl-ghosts singing through the ethers, girls like Margaret, found by people like you and J. Blake Gordon (what a great musical resource!). The predatory behavior of the music industry, financially and sexually, has always been, with racism adding another thick lashing of harm. Black girl singers were exploited and moved around like disposable pieces on a chess board, and Margaret was the picture of innocence and beauty. I did a quick snoop— her brother Bobby also recorded a few tracks and starred in one episode of the Danny Thomas Show as a nine-year-old cub scout. He died young as well, at 46. We can only guess at what they went through…
Despite whatever heartaches may have ensued for Margaret Mandolph after her extraordinary moments in the studio or on stage, what will never be lost is the immortality of her voice, this song, the music. How one child’s precious yearning, reaching out to us as sound through space, can touch us as deeply as what is expressed in your words… bringing something extraordinary to hold and be moved by. Thank you, Mary.
incredible—her voice at that age (or any age), and the multiple backstories her fading away could mean. i'd never heard of her before, so thank you for sharing this.
That is just so lovely. Thank you for this gift. The older I get the more I realize there's so much beauty everywhere, so much talent that's fully realized, but doesn't "break through" to the popular imagination or what we would call "success" because of all the reasons, but random luck and timing being at the forefront (I've seen two rather dramatic examples of this in my business for creatives). Eva Cassidy comes to mind, who of course was discovered after she died, but in her time was unknown, playing local bars, trying to get a deal with a record company. And then she died, and then she was gone. And I think it's possible had she not died when she did (and maybe where) she would never have been discovered. People outside the creative world look upon the creative industries as a type of ladder that's climbed, a type of meritocracy. But it's not that at all. And the hard but positive spin on this (and this song and singer you've given us), is instead of being discouraged by the randomness and unfairness of creative success, to open our eyes to the living art and the creative artists we come across every day in our world: the amazing singer/songwriter who plays Sunday nights at the bar, the university press novel that sells 600 copies that astounds you, the 16-year-old actress in a mime performance group who changes the life of someone in the audience (this happened to me -- I'd not realized what theater could do before I saw them and her). And they continue this work, as a kind of prayer, for themselves and for all of us, until for whatever reason, they stop.
Mary, such a revelation. You and Margaret Mandolph touched me deeply. Each time you write, the world opens a bit more. I want to direct you (not that you need any direction) to this post by Sam Kahn who writes castaliajournal: https://castaliajournal.substack.com/p/towards-an-artistic-middle-class ~ Sam is doing remarkable work here and is prolific as well. Take a look. Will be worth it. --Mary xo
Not exactly 13, but like https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVdaFQhS86E I wish for a redux with the sax solo better complimenting the vulnerability, uncertainty and hidden bravery in Astrud Gilberto's voice.
It is so touching, to hear Margaret's sweet voice and the song. Wish I could transport myself back to ca. '67 when I had contacts in the Brill Building world who could answer these questions. My boyfriend at the time, Joe Kookoolis, was a songwriter, and he worked with, notably, the older Bob Hilliard, who was on the top of the heap of 4-star composers. Joe and Bob wrote a song for Dusty Springfield, who was a very big star then. Thus, I question whether Margaret's "I wanna Make you Happy" was a cover for a Dusty original. More likely the other way around, for that was the practice then, to turn over a good song to a mainstream singer--not to denigrate Dusty, she was fantastic.
What an amazing discovery. Hard to believe she was only 13 when she sang this. Her seeming knowingness combined with her seeming innocence is such a powerful combination. Puts me in mind of "Little" Stevie Wonder and Jackson 5-era Michael. Thanks for sharing this.
Thank you very much for bringing back someone who would otherwise have been lost to obscurity. I agree with your impression of a girl just beginning to emerge from childhood. There is a definite sense of innocent sweetness that flows from her voice.
I messaged Mikal Gilmore to see if he knows anything about her. If I hear back I'll pass it on.
Mary you should see what fellow substacker Ted gioia could dig up for you
In the late 1950s and early 60s, when young black women singers rose to the zenith of American pop culture, there was more of an innocence to the tone and lyrics of popular song. For example, the Dixie Cups, the Shirelles, the Crystals. By 1965 when this track was released, the sweet purity of a voice like Margaret Mandolph’s was being replaced by the heat of songs like the Supremes’ “Love Is Like An Itching In My Heart”, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas’ “Nowhere to Run” (a song about race if ever there was one), and more mature singers like Fontella Bass and Barbara Mason. The Beatles had their first hit stateside in 1964 with “I Want To Hold Your Hand”, which created the tsunami of self-contained British boy bands that pushed the Brill Building songwriters (including Cynthia Weil, who co-wrote this song) and their girl-interpreters out of vogue. 1965 was the beginning of the end for the girl groups, and for the glittery, pure longing and femininity of the love expressed in this track.
There is a choir of lost girl-ghosts singing through the ethers, girls like Margaret, found by people like you and J. Blake Gordon (what a great musical resource!). The predatory behavior of the music industry, financially and sexually, has always been, with racism adding another thick lashing of harm. Black girl singers were exploited and moved around like disposable pieces on a chess board, and Margaret was the picture of innocence and beauty. I did a quick snoop— her brother Bobby also recorded a few tracks and starred in one episode of the Danny Thomas Show as a nine-year-old cub scout. He died young as well, at 46. We can only guess at what they went through…
Despite whatever heartaches may have ensued for Margaret Mandolph after her extraordinary moments in the studio or on stage, what will never be lost is the immortality of her voice, this song, the music. How one child’s precious yearning, reaching out to us as sound through space, can touch us as deeply as what is expressed in your words… bringing something extraordinary to hold and be moved by. Thank you, Mary.
Amazing. Thank you for introducing me to Margaret Mandolph.
incredible—her voice at that age (or any age), and the multiple backstories her fading away could mean. i'd never heard of her before, so thank you for sharing this.
Sometimes light weight subjective things are the most deeply felt & important along with the weightier things. Thank you for sharing 🤍
That is just so lovely. Thank you for this gift. The older I get the more I realize there's so much beauty everywhere, so much talent that's fully realized, but doesn't "break through" to the popular imagination or what we would call "success" because of all the reasons, but random luck and timing being at the forefront (I've seen two rather dramatic examples of this in my business for creatives). Eva Cassidy comes to mind, who of course was discovered after she died, but in her time was unknown, playing local bars, trying to get a deal with a record company. And then she died, and then she was gone. And I think it's possible had she not died when she did (and maybe where) she would never have been discovered. People outside the creative world look upon the creative industries as a type of ladder that's climbed, a type of meritocracy. But it's not that at all. And the hard but positive spin on this (and this song and singer you've given us), is instead of being discouraged by the randomness and unfairness of creative success, to open our eyes to the living art and the creative artists we come across every day in our world: the amazing singer/songwriter who plays Sunday nights at the bar, the university press novel that sells 600 copies that astounds you, the 16-year-old actress in a mime performance group who changes the life of someone in the audience (this happened to me -- I'd not realized what theater could do before I saw them and her). And they continue this work, as a kind of prayer, for themselves and for all of us, until for whatever reason, they stop.
Mary, such a revelation. You and Margaret Mandolph touched me deeply. Each time you write, the world opens a bit more. I want to direct you (not that you need any direction) to this post by Sam Kahn who writes castaliajournal: https://castaliajournal.substack.com/p/towards-an-artistic-middle-class ~ Sam is doing remarkable work here and is prolific as well. Take a look. Will be worth it. --Mary xo
Thanks for introducing me to this song, which I don't remember ever having heard before.
Thank you for sharing her music!
Not exactly 13, but like https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVdaFQhS86E I wish for a redux with the sax solo better complimenting the vulnerability, uncertainty and hidden bravery in Astrud Gilberto's voice.
Wonderful just wonderful
Not sure
But he would be the resource I would start with
It is so touching, to hear Margaret's sweet voice and the song. Wish I could transport myself back to ca. '67 when I had contacts in the Brill Building world who could answer these questions. My boyfriend at the time, Joe Kookoolis, was a songwriter, and he worked with, notably, the older Bob Hilliard, who was on the top of the heap of 4-star composers. Joe and Bob wrote a song for Dusty Springfield, who was a very big star then. Thus, I question whether Margaret's "I wanna Make you Happy" was a cover for a Dusty original. More likely the other way around, for that was the practice then, to turn over a good song to a mainstream singer--not to denigrate Dusty, she was fantastic.