About a year ago, I shared a compilation of wacky telephones that I had found in a novelty collector’s book. Shortly after publishing, I received a bizarre, cryptic email from an anonymous individual, identity hidden for security purposes, with a tip about a far greater hobbyist ring. These were AM/FM radios.
 
We exchanged a few emails. The man wanted to be referred to as “The Buzz.” He claimed that he needed to keep his profile a secret in order to protect the “greater good.” By this, he was referring to the topic of discussion: novelty radios. I wanted to learn more. And then he disappeared.
 

 
It wasn’t until recently that “The Buzz” reappeared. Writing from a burner email account, the message read “IT’S BUZZ. I NEED YOU TO CALL ME: 989-###-####.” The area code is Northeastern Michigan. Without a doubt, I thought someone was fucking with me. The joke wasn’t even that funny to begin with, but I was still curious.
 
We talked for nearly forty minutes. He rambled in an erratic manner, and the reception was very poor. I think he was using a voice modulator. To be honest, I could barely understand anything “The Buzz” was saying. Something about “them” and “they.” This unspecified faction has been tracking his every movement since 1987. The collection of gimmicky AM/FM radios, however, that is what they wanted. Allegedly, “The Buzz” has the largest collection of these plastic oddities known to mankind. And he would stop at nothing to make sure “they never got them.” It was pretty weird.
 

 
There are few allies in the underground world of souvenir radio collectors. I would imagine at one point the resistance had only communicated through their product, but “The Buzz” advised me that encryptions were sent using Hotmail’s MSN Messenger. It’s a growing network and, for some bizarre reason, I could be trusted as an outsider. I wonder if they were originally skeptical because I would write a piece on my discovery - exactly what I am doing right now.
 
This morning, I received a discreet file-sharing link to a folder with hundreds of pictures. Yes you guessed it, each a photo of different, beautifully categorized novelty radio. There wasn’t much context behind the immense image dump, but it definitely came from “The Buzz.” He gave me his blessing. Now I wonder, by ‘largest collection’, did he mean in physical or digital form? Because this, what you are about to see below, this could be what he was referring to along. These photos could be what “they” are after - and I could be risking my life by sharing them with you. I tried giving “The Buzz” a call to clarify, but alas, his voicemail was full.
 
Take a look at some of the greatest novelty radios in human history below:
 

 

 
MANY more novelty radios, after the jump…

 
In 1965, at a studio in Philadelphia, a most unusual novelty dance number was cut called “Peanut Duck.” The tune was shelved, but survived as an acetate. The record was discovered by a British DJ in the 1980s, who issued the track on a dubious release with misleading information. It’s now fifty years later, and the identities of all those who appeared on “Peanut Duck”—including the lead vocalist—is still a mystery. And boy, is this song bonkers!
 

 
When “Peanut Duck” was pressed in the mid-1980s, it was credited to a singer named Marsha Gee, though it was later revealed to be untrue (more below). It’s fairly obvious that it’s not the same Marsha Gee who released a song called “Baby, I Need You.”

“Peanut Duck” follows the template of novelty and fad dances like “The Loco-Motion” and “The Twist”—to a point. The unknown female vocalist does explain how to do the goofy dance, but doesn’t go into very much detail, and some of the lyrics are completely unintelligible. It’s also unclear as to what George Washington Carver’s favorite legume has to do with anything. The track really goes off the rails once it passes the 2:00 minute mark, with the singer free-forming it like you won’t believe.
 

 
In 2005, the song was said to have received its first authorized release when it was issued as a 45 on the Penniman label (with writer and publishing credits that don’t match the Joker version, but still attributed to Marsha Gee). That same year, Rhino included it on their boxed set, Girl Group Sounds: One Kiss Can Lead to Another. Here’s Rhino’s liner notes concerning the track in question:

At Virtue Sound Studio in Philadelphia, a mystery girl singer cut “Peanut Duck,” a feverish soul stomper that trailed the Loco-Motion, Mashed Potato, Twist trend. But the track was never released, and Marsha Gee was not the actual singer. The only proof of “Peanut Duck” lay in an acetate discovered by a British Northern Soul DJ who took the disc back to England and released it as a bootleg on Joker Records in the ‘80s. Not wanting his rival DJs to infringe upon his precious find, he christened the unknown singer Marsha Gee (who incidentally had a single out on Uptown Records in 1965). The true voice behind “Peanut Duck” has yet to be revealed. Anyone?

Yes, anyone? Was it YOU?
 

The charming cover of Merry Crassmas
 

Click play to hear all of Merry Crassmas!
 
The end of 1981 likely saw highly influential British anarcho-punk band Crass both energized and exhausted after dropping their third album, the remarkably complex feminist manifesto Penis Envy.

One speculates that the idea for their final release of the year came to the band as a “eureka!” moment. Why not release a 7” novelty record made up of a department-store-style, organ-and-drum-machine medley of their anthemic and obnoxious tunes, including “Big A Little A,” “Punk is Dead,” “Big Hands,” “Contaminational Power” and others? Slap on an innocuous Santa Claus intro and obnoxious outro at the end, pop it into a sleeve with a strange and horrific collage of an Xmas-day family holiday scene by Gee Vaucher, and you’ve got an instant inside-joke punk classic on your hands.

As a horror-day bonus for you Crass-heads, here’s a wide-ranging, as-yet-spotlighted 2007 interview from pancrack.tv with your man, drummer Penny Rimbaud…
 

 
Part 2  |  Part 3  |  Part 4  |  Part 5  |  Part 6  |  Part 7  |  Part 8 
 
Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Crass remasters and epic interview
Crass: There is No Authority But Yourself
Music for Crass: Mick Duffield’s Christ the Movie
The unexpected Crass-Beatles Nexus Point