By mid-1962, surf music was becoming big. Big enough, in fact, that many well-established personalities and record executives began to notice; some even came out with their own take on the genre. One such example was big band leader and trumpeter Vaughn Monroe who had had a steady string of hits up until the mid-fifties when rock and roll came about. Well, after a few years of absence, Monroe was back, ready to take on the newest rock fad. What's perhaps most interesting about the album is the way Monroe incorporates his 1940s swing sensibilities into the new material. I'm sure first-time listeners never expected Vaughn's throaty baritone delivery of Dovells hit, 'Bristol Stomp,' or the totally bizarre version of 'I Really Love You' in which Monroe displays his rich bass voice aided by a chorus of *ahem* more youthful-sounding men. 

 

The album begins with a fairly routine version of 'Surfers' Stomp' followed by another Mar-Ket's tune, 'Stompin' Room Only,' which is played so cleanly and precisely that you'd half expect Ward Clever to be on sax. Just when the record seems like it's going to be merely trip down 'Covers Alley,' Monroe steps up to the mic and supplies a shockingly clueless rendition of 'Bristol Stomp' as he attempts to mimic the signature 1950's falsetto "oohs" and "ahhs" two octaves lower than they should be sung. Stranger still is a cover of the obscure Showmen's single 'It Will Stand,' which probably would've worked a lot better if it had been arranged for a full brass band instead of a 'rock' group. Without a doubt, the album's weirdest moment is the hilarious rendition of another obscure song, the Stereos' 1961 single, 'I Really Love You.' It almost seems that Monroe just picked the first two songs he heard on the radio and arranged them in a scaled-down big band style for this record. 'Stomp Light' is enjoyable enough, with wailing guitars holding up the energy, while the Bel-Aires' 'Mr. Moto' (cluelessly scribed as 'Mister' on the cover) is absolutely dreadful, sounding almost as if the band tried to incorporate a two-step into the feel. The vocal number, 'Foot Stompin'' could've been released in 1946 but here sounds painfully bland here - "listen to the jumpy beat..."? "Stompin' At Savoy" is a passable number even with a Lawrence Welk-styled organ. 'Candy Man' is better forgotten. A strange cover of Gary US Bonds' 'School Is Out' also has its moments, though Monroe seems astronomically distant from the subject matter. The album closes with 'Stompin' with Donna,' which ironically is probably the album's closest moment to the original thing.