Birdlegs and Pauline
Say you're a husband-and-wife soul duo, somewhat in the same the guitar-fortified mold of Mickey & Sylvia or Ike & Time Turner, based in Rockford, IL in the mid-1960s, wanting to record your act in the hope of starting a run of hit records. Chicago isn’t very far, but the competition for studio time and space is daunting, as is the criminal element that has insinuated itself into the big city’s music business. The longer drive to Southwest Wisconsin, with Jim Kirchstein's acoustically innovative Cuca Records studio, beckoned with a friendly environment and a fair-minded owner/producer/engineer.
Thus, Sidney “Birdlegs” Banks and his spouse, Pauline, made their contribution to rhythm & blues history. The couple’s debut single got picked up by the Windy City’s own Vee Jay label and cracked the national R&B Top 20, but the same company couldn’t release a subsequent album due to bankruptcy proceedings (not even issuing Beatles records could stave off that).
So, the only long-player by Birdlegs & Pauline, along with their wonderfully-named backing band of The Versatility Birds, was picked up by Cuca. Go figure that the duo’s lone hit, the stroll-tempoed “Spring,” couldn’t be included on the album due to the Banks’ previous deal. Nearly 60 years on, Chicago reissue specialists Numero Group correct the error with a deluxe vinyl edition including four more tracks than the original LP’s dozen. Even more bounteous is its digital edition comprising 24 selections. Both iterations reveal a truly well-rounded act, conversant with the soul sounds of their time, even incorporating bits of the Hispanic flavor Curtis Mayfield was imbuing to his production charges such as Major Lance.
However, the Bankses and their Birds were capable of putting their own spin on jazz fit both for lounging and swing dancing. Jittering hump blues fit into their repertoire as well. Vocally, Legs could navigate his way from Ray Charles’ gruffness to swooping drama indebted to Jackie Wilson. Pauline, who would reclaim her maiden name of Shivers after the pair’s divorce and record some solo singles in the late ‘60s, possessed a powerhouse instrument ranging from Jan Bradley’s smoothness to LaVern Baker-styled gusts.
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It’s a shame Birdlegs & Pauline couldn't find a firmer commercial footing and mature artistically during a fecund era for African American popular music. But thanks to a small, productive operation in Sauk City, they left an eclectic document that holds up better than might have been expected.
