Alright now, lean back and let the needle drop…
We’re
talking about a man who couldn’t stick to just one name if he tried—Billy Storm
when the lights hit the stage. Or should I say his birth name William E.
Spicer… maybe Billy Jones… perhaps Billy Fortune … and if you were flipping
over a songwriting credit, you might’ve spotted John Carson or Billy Carson.
Yeah, this guy had more aliases than a late-night detective.
And
he didn’t just move through names—he moved through groups. Back in his high
school days, he was already cutting his teeth in a handful of outfits like The Chavelles, and The
Sabers— finding his sound, living that raw, restless life of
a young musician. By the time the dust settled into a group called The
Valiants, the name Billy Storm was the one that stuck. Between solo records in the later 60's he
continued to be involved in groups like the Nuggets, Africa, and The Brothers
& Sisters. This man did not sleep.
Now
through the ’50s and ’60s, Storm was everywhere—recording
on more than a dozen labels, chasing that sound, that moment. He even cracked
the Billboard Top 40 during his time with Columbia. You crate diggers out
there—you’ve probably spotted those Columbia or Loma 45s… but let’s be honest, that HBR
pressing? That’s the one that seems to find you.
But
tonight… oh tonight, we’re spinning a little slice of 1959 magic.
The
A-side? It jumps right out of the speakers—whoopin’, hollerin’, with just a
touch of Spanish flair to keep your ears guessing. It’s got that wild,
late-’50s energy that makes you want to move without even thinking about it.
The B-side slows it
all down. Smooth, tender, and full of that aching teenage sincerity. It’s the
kind of record that doesn’t just play—it lingers. You can almost see it: a
dimly lit gym, a Friday night dance, hands just a little unsure where to go,
hearts beating louder than the music. It’s that moment where the noise of the
world fades out, and it’s just the two of you swaying in time, hoping the song
never ends.
And that’s where “We Knew” really settles in.
For me… it’s a time
machine. Straight back to high school. Me and my girl, thinking we were smooth…
slipping past curfews, stealing moments, convinced we were getting away with
just a little bit more than we should’ve.
But
you know how it goes…
Our
parents… hers, mine… they’d just look at us with those knowing eyes.
Didn’t
matter how clever we thought we were.
They
already knew.
And oh yeah… they always knew.
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