Ann Boleyn - Illya b/w Do the Kuryakin (Mammoth 445)
1965
The historical context -- and therefore, the rationale -- of most records is usually immediately apparent just by the song titles and the musical genre. The reasoning behind others, like this one, is far more elusive to modern listeners. Time has not recorded why Scott and Vivian Holtzman decided to write a serious love ballad to a fictional television character, but their composition "He's a Loser" had improbably been featured on an episode of Gilligan's Island around this time; so it may have seemed like a good commercial move to next write a song about Illya Kuryakin, a spy from the current hip television show The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Perhaps the husband-and-wife team hoped that a producer with that show would hear it and want to use it.
From our current perspective, however, everything about this record is mystifying, from the unfamiliar label with no address, to the odd instrumentation (including acoustic bass and bassoon); from the fact that both sides have the same lyrics, to the pseudonymous vocalist, named after one of Henry VIII's wives. The flipside, "Do the Kuryakin," veers into absurdity, but the listener cannot be sure if this was intentional. The date would also be difficult to guess (The Man From U.N.C.L.E. ran for four years, 1964-68) but for a disc jockey scribbling "9/19/65" on this copy.
Although they are remembered solely for their songs today, Scott and Vivian Holtzman were better known during the 1960s for their involvement with the theater scene in Houston. Scott wrote, directed, or acted in many plays right up to his death in the 1990s, and Vivian acted as well. Their primary interest was theater, but many theater people crossed over into the music scene and vice versa. The Holtzmans were regulars at the Jester, a folk club that opened in the early '60s and stayed popular until the folk music craze faded, and both appear as vocalists on a promotional album the club put out circa 1963. Scott, of course, was a steady presence on the later rock scene as well, writing the "Now Sounds" column for the Houston Post and managing the Fever Tree.
Another frequent guest at the Jester was Kay Oslin, and she, too, was better-known at the time as an actress. In 1966, Oslin co-starred with Scott Holtzman in the play 110 in the Shade at Theatre, Inc., a playhouse in the Bellaire suburb. And it was Kay Oslin who was recruited by Scott in 1965 to sing "Illya" and "Do the Kuryakin." Kay's magnificent voice is well-featured on the ballad A-side, and would have worked better with a regular lyric, not one about a television character. Kay overdubs a second vocal onto her own vocal track, something new in Houston recording. Instead of pressing it locally, Scott pitched the songs to a friend at the Mammoth label -- an obscure San Francisco concern -- ensuring that the record would remain outside the Texas canon for the next 50 years.
What to make of the bizarre "Do the Kuryakin"? The title never appears in the song; the lyrics are the same as "Illya," but recast with a new arrangement that is apparently supposed to put one in mind of rock music. One suspects that Scott said something along the lines of: "OK, let's do something that sounds really bad and stupid so Top 40 radio might play it." Folk and classical musicians trying to make a rock and roll dance record is something doomed to failure from the outset. Retaining the bassoon for "Do the Kuryakin" was ridiculous, but charming in retrospect.
Kay Oslin and Frank Davis at La Maison (1964).
Scott and Kay returned to the studio in 1966, continuing in the novelty vein with two singles on International Artists (released as Frankie & Johnny). Kay was also involved with the Underground, a studio group who recorded at Andrus for Mainstream Records. As far as I know, she would not record again until the 1980s, when she altered her name to K.T. Oslin and recorded many country hits. Her early days as "Ann Boleyn" would have been completely forgotten but for a total fluke: in the 1980s, Scott Holtzman gave his friend Christopher Clements a cassette with some of his old recordings, and there was "Illya," credited properly to Oslin. Clements recently confirmed that this was indeed the same performance as the Mammoth 45, which neither Holtzman nor Oslin had mentioned to him back in the day.
Thanks to Christopher Clements for his help.
"Illya"
Sometimes when I'm all alone
It seems inside of my dreams
He's standing right over there
Somewhere over there
Illya, look at me
Only me
Illya, reach for me
And call my name
It was always Illya
It was always Illya for me
In back of every dream
I ever dreamed was this:
That you should look at me
That I should know your kiss
That I should hear your call
It was always Illya
It was always Illya for me
(bassoon solo)
Illya, look at me
Only me
Illya, reach for me
And call my name
"Do the Kuryakin"
Illya, look at me
Only me
Illya, reach for me
And call my name
It was always Illya
It was always Illya for me
In back of every dream
I've ever dreamed was this:
That you should look at me
That I should know your kiss
It was always Illya
It was always Illya for me
Illya, look at me
Only me
Illya, reach for me
Call my name
Illya
KAY OSLIN 1960s DISCOGRAPHY
Kay Oslin
Brave Young Sailor
My Girl (with Frank Davis)
From the album Look, It's Us! (Jester no #) 1963-64
Ann Boleyn
Illya/Do the Kuryakin (Mammoth 445) 1965
The Underground
Satisfy'n Sunday/Easy (Mainstream 660) 1966
Get Him Out of Your Mind/Take Me Back (Mainstream 667) 1967
NB: Studio group comprised of Larry O'Keefe, Johnny Wright, Kay Oslin, and Susan Giles on vocals.
Frankie & Johnny (Scott Holtzman and Kay Oslin)
Sweet Thing (International Artists 112) 1966
Right String, Baby (But the Wrong Yo-Yo)/Present of the Past (International Artists 117) 1967
"Illya"
"Do the Kuryakin"
