Deconstructing Herman’s Hermits

When people want to kid around about the British Invasion of the 1960s, it’s usually Herman’s Hermits or The Dave Clark Five they’ll mention, presumably on the grounds that they were among the more gimmicky and short-lived bands of the era, though the latter isn’t really true in either case. You could name about a dozen acts whose successes were shorter-lived, oh, The Swinging Blue Jeans, or Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas, or Peter and Gordon, or whoever, it’s just that (ironically) people don’t remember them well enough to crack jokes about them, for those were “one hit wonders”, in the States anyway. The point of the jokes about about the groups I mention I guess is that they’re not the Beatles or the Rolling Stones or the Who, who lasted for decades. Sure, but Herman’s Hermits, today’s victims, had about 18 major singles in the U.S. over a period of around three years, maybe slightly longer (late ’64 through early ’68). And it was more like five years in the U.K. (through 1970). 99 out of 100 musical acts would kill to say something like that. Even ones you really respect and think of as major. The Go-Gos, for example? Had four big singles. Ya know? 18 hits like Herman’s Hermit had is nothing to sneeze or sneer at.

On the other hand, Manchester-based Herman’s Hermits were also possibly the least “legit” of all the British Invasion acts. Or perhaps the most legit, depending on how you define it. In other words, they were just a few notches shy of being The Monkees. They were formed by a corporation to take advantage of a trend. The lead singer, Peter Noone (not unlike Davy Jones and Mickey Dolenz) was a child actor, known for appearing on the soap opera Coronation Street. Not “had been” one, WAS one. He was still 15 years old when he joined the band. Born this day in 1947, he’s an interesting presence, with a little of the ragamuffin about him, more like a Rolling Stone than a Monkee, though he did possess a high-pitched, piping voice like a pre-adolescent, not unlike Davy’s.

I see it written everywhere that the band was called Herman’s Hermits because Noone looked like Sherman from the Peabody and Sherman cartoons on the Bullwinkle show. But that can’t be right, can it? Because Sherman had glasses. and the only guy in the band with glasses is lead guitarist Derek Leckenby, so HE must be the one who’s Sherman, right? (I promise, I’m not high).

Already stupid, the name gets stupider because then they took off the “s”, because it was “complicated” (how was it complicated?). And then the stupidity of the name increases an order of magnitude with the addition of “Hermits”. How does anyone have “Hermits”? Presumably Herman does, as his name is rendered in the possessive. Herman has hermits? And that being the case, why are they all hanging out together playing in a band, instead of living alone in a shack or a cave in the wilderness, which is what hermits usually do? I’m not picking on them particularly, I do this all the time, with pro wrestlers and hip hop artists and fast food chains. I’m a vaudeville guy. I critique acts and brands. Paul Revere and the Raiders are dressed like Revolutionary War guys. Check. Gary Puckett and the Union Gap are decked out like Civil War soldiers. Yep, that scans. The Count Five wear Dracula capes. Absolutely! But “Herman’s Hermit’s”? I’m sorry, it’s a shit name. Yes, we remember it, and we remember it many decades later, but only because it’s really, really dumb.

Sorry. Just…had to get that off my chest. As for the music…well, it occupies an interesting niche. Unlike the longer lasting bands, they didn’t write their own songs, and some of their hits were covers. Their sound was a kind of pre-Bubble Gum sound that was definitely aimed at the 14 year old end of the market. AND, in what is a plus as far as I’m concerned, but a minus for many, their repertoire didn’t just include Brill Building numbers, but also old English music hall songs, sometimes with a ukulele! Haha, this is a dealbreaker, I know, for many people who are into rock and roll. They find the whole thing just too cute. So on the one hand you have things like Goffin and King’s “I’m Into Something Good”, Sam Cooke’s “Wonderful World”, and the doo-wop standard “Silhouettes”….and on the other hand you have “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter”, “I’m Henry VIII, I Am” and “Leaning on the Lamp Post”. And in between: a cover of the Kinks’ “Dandy”, and The New Vaudeville Band’s “There’s a Kind of Hush”, which they arranged into a much more contemporary sounding pop record. That latter tune, released in early 1967, is my very favorite of theirs, the very summit of what they put out into the world, just a great record. I could play it ten times in a row and not get tired of it.

Mickie Most, who also produced Donovan and Lulu and others, by the way, also produced Herman’s Hermits. That guy was a magician.

One other thing that sets Herman’s Hermits apart from most other British Invasion bands was that, like the Beatles and the Monkees, they were in movies! Three of them! When the Boys Meet the Girls (1965) with Connie Francis,Hold On! (1966) with Shelley Fabares, and Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter (1968), a kind of last big push for relevance, not unlike The Monkees’ Head (well, actually nothing is like The Monkees’ Head).

By the late ’60s record buyers were seeking more maturity and authenticity in their pop records. Herman’s Hermits were able to adjust their sound a little bit, but they began to rapidly fall down the U.S. charts through 1968. Their last single to chart in Britain was “Lady Barbara” in late 1970. Their lives were far from over, though. All the members of the group remained in show biz for the duration, they just weren’t at or near the top any more. And perhaps it’s just as may be that there was never fated to be a Herman’s Hermit’s disco record.

For more on show business history please see No Applause, Just Throw Money: The Book That Made Vaudeville Famous, and keep an eye out for my upcomingElectric Vaudeville: A Century of Radio and TV Variety.