Edd Byrnes – Kookie (1959)

“Baby, you’re the ginchiest.”

I might be more than six decades behind, but recently I’ve become  crazy for Kookie!  In a matter of months actor Edd Byrnes, best known for playing super hip car hop turned detective Gerald Lloyd “Kookie” Kookerman III on the TV series “77 Sunset Strip,” has gone from being a passing curiosity to one of my very favorite celebrities.  A classic teen idol from the golden age of television, Edd Byrnes was once one of pop culture’s most recognizable young actors, but as pop culture has changed, the mass public’s memory of him seems to have eroded.  But in our house, Kookiemania is alive and well… well for me at least.  Griz thinks the whole thing is a bit silly, but I’ve changed my phone alerts to sound bites of Kookie’s signature phrases, have tried out his now dated jive talk (thankfully for everyone that hasn’t stuck) and if I had hair, I’m sure I’d be utilizing a comb with great frequency.   Of course, that also means frequent plays of Edd’s 1959 album “Kookie,” featuring his hit duet with Connie Stevens, “Kookie, Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb),” much to my thankfully tolerant spouse’s chagrin.

So how did this all begin?  Via vinyl of course.  Last fall Griz and I took a trip through Pennsylvania and when stopped at a small market not far from Pittsburg, I came across a copy of the 1958 soundtrack to the TV series “77 Sunset Strip” for two dollars.  I threw it on top of the pile of cheap records I was buying on an impulse, and brought it home without thinking much about it. But when I put it on the turn table, I was pleased with just how hip the jazzy material on the disc was.  As TV soundtracks full of incidental music goes, it’s pretty listenable.  This got me wondering about the TV series.  Although I’d heard of the show, I have never actually seen it, which was actually surprising considering that the primary genre of television I watch is vintage crime and detective shows.  Considered one of the first of the great procedural crime dramas, I got myself copies of the first batch of episodes and started watching them every night right around bedtime.  Well, to say the least, I got hooked.  I’m currently finishing season three while slowly working through all of the spin off series and am finding myself fascinated with Warner Brother’s fictional vision of America in the late 50’s. 

Although I’m sure a lot of people reading this probably are already familiar with Edd Byrnes and his Kookie character, let’s get up to speed on the phenomena that was “77 Sunset Strip,” in order to put the music into perspective.

Based on a 1946 dime novel called “The Double Take” by Roy Huggins, “77 Sunset Strip” was put into development by Warner Brothers in 1958.  Having successfully moved from film to television only a few years prior, Warner Brothers test the series in the form of a feature length film called “Girl on the Run” which was shown to test audiences prior to airing on television.  Introducing Efron Zimbalist Jr. in the role of private investigator Stuart Bailey, the movie rated well with audiences, and Zimbalist proved popular as the primary leading man.  However, what producers had not planned on was the popularity that the film’s young villain would have on the test audience.  Recently signed to Warner Brothers, day player Edd Byrnes was cast as a contact killer but  became the film’s standout character despite the fact that he was on his way to jail at the end.  Based on the test audience’s enthusiasm,  when the film was developed into a series, Edd Byrnes was kept on board as Zimbalist’s junior sidekick, and Kookie was born.

Making it’s official TV debut on October 10^th, 1958 “77 Sunset Strip” became an instant hit with the audience.  With the addition of actor Roger Smith as Zimbalist’s PI partner Jeff Spencer, “77 Sunset Strip” became a showcase for Warner Brothers’ stable of contract players, giving many of pop culture’s most beloved stars some of their earliest television exposure.  In the world of “77 Sunset Strip,” the guys were cool, the girls were gorgeous, the scene was hip and the criminals were around every corner in a series filled with clever dialogue, well written scripts, pockets of humor and likeable characters that appealed to a broad demographic.   The series eventually became a cultural zeitgeist of its own in terms of fashion, music, motor vehicles and, as we’ll discuss in a moment, even language.  If it was genuinely cool, you were going to see it on “77 Sunset Strip.”  The series became so popular that it became the flagship show in an entire franchise of detective series set in exotic locations.  In one of television’s earliest examples of “world building,” “77 Sunset Strip” spun off to “Hawaiian Eye” and “Bourbon Street Beat” in 1959, and “Surfside 6” in 1960.  Characters would cross over, interact and at times even become regular cast members on the different shows which were all being filmed on the WB lot.

But out of all of the colorful and talented stars appearing on all of the different series, Edd Byrnes was arguably one of the standouts.  Originally from New York, Edd had worked a bunch of jobs prior to acting, including being an ambulance driver and a roofer, but with his natural good looks and youthful appeal, Edd started working as a photographer’s model at age 17.  Edd initially started acting in summer stock productions, but after failing to break onto the New York stage, at age 25 he headed out to Hollywood to try his hand at pictures.  Getting work in some stage productions and a few B-pictures, Edd eventually began booking episodic television roles, which led to him getting noticed by WB executives during an appearance on their hit TV western “Cheynne.”  With his bright eyes and boyish charm he was noted as being a “Tab Hunter type” and signed to a long term contract by the WB. 

1958 would be the year it all began for Edd, who made appearances in a number of WB films including “The Deep Six,” “Darby’s Rangers,” “Marjorie Morningstar” and “Life Begins at 17,” as well as doing episodic guest appearances on WB’s stable of westerns including “Maverick,” “The Lawman” and “Sugarfoot.”  But when Edd greased his hair in that super slicked up ducktail cut, put on a stylish windbreaker and said “Like, wow, Dad,” for “77 Sunset Strip,” he’d forever be remembered by audiences as Kookie.

So, what was the appeal of Kookie?  Well, in the role, Edd Byrnes put a new spin on youth culture which, at the time, was getting a bad reputation in film and television.  Six years since the release of “The Wild One,” and only three years since the death of James Dean, rock n’ roll culture and head strong kids were deemed by society as being juvenile delinquents, while beatniks were little more than a punch line.  Decent young men in film and television were portrayed by strait laced clean cut fellas, but as likeable as they might be, lets face it.  They were squaresville.  Edd Byrnes, in the role of Kookie, gave audiences the first jive talking rock ‘n’ roll drag racing hipster who was a likeable kid in a heroic role.  He wore the coolest clothes, drove the coolest cars and took out the coolest girls and somehow made it all work.  He was cool, but not cruel.  He was confidant, but not arrogant.  He had it all, but cared about others, and had a moral code that always put him on the side of good.  But his most distinctive feature, other than his signature hair cut which he constantly combed back with his ever present comb, was his dialogue.  Kookie spoke in beat slang.  Although initially played off for laughs, somehow Byrnes was able to sell it to the public in a way where it didn’t sound stupid or silly.  While he may have sounded like he was reading an Anthony Burgess novel to older viewers, the kids could decipher what he was saying, and soon Kookie was introducing phrases that would become a part of the English lexicon.  In 1959 a book was even published, titled “Way Out with Kookie” which served as a dictionary and guide to talking “Kookiespeak.”  Well, the popularity of Kookie on the audience was undeniable.  Girls loved him, guys wanted to be him, and even parents wouldn’t mind if their daughter’s brought him home. 

So, what happens when you have a character with peak popularity and a noteworthy gimmick?  Well you release a record of course!  Warner Brothers Records was established in 1958, the same year that “77 Sunset Strip” made its debut, and quickly began cross promoting their acts on its entire stable of shows, while bringing their stars into the recording studios to cur records with mixed results.  Although Edd wasn’t a singer, he’d be one of the first television heart throbs in a very long line to be brought into the recording studio to put out a pop single.

In 1959 Edd Brynes was riding high as Kookie, while over on “Hawaiian Eye” the beautiful Connie Stevens was playing his counterpart, photographer/singer Cricket Blake.   As Cricket, Connie was featured singing most weeks on “Hawaiian Eye,” and she had already released an album for Warner Brothers titled “Concetta.”  Well, when it came time to bring Edd into the studio, pairing him and Connie, as Kookie and Cricket, just seemed natural.  Both had a likeable appeal, and the two popped both personally and aesthetically.  But with limited vocal talent, it was pretty clear that Edd wasn’t going to be the next Elvis, so instead of depending on any sort of vocal talent,  the producers needed to create a song that capitalized on his Kookie characteristics – the colorful dialect, the cool swagger and, of course, that comb. 

For the project, songwriter Irving Taylor was brought in.  Now, Taylor wasn’t a lightweight.  Possibly his most famous contribution to the world of popular music was penning Dean Martin’s signature song “Everybody Loves Somebody” (incidentally, on “77 Sunset Strip,” Kookie parked cars at Dean Martin’s real life Sunset Strip located eatery Dino’s Lodge), and the Kay Starr holiday favorite “Man with the Bag.”  Still in the era of the novelty song, Taylor penned a song where Edd didn’t have to sing much.  In what is constructed much like a well-executed “cut and paste” format, Edd does his part by speaking his hip lingo already featured on the show, while Connie would plead with him in song to lend her his trademark comb.  The result was “Kookie, Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb), and while not exactly a rock n’ roll opus, the lyrics are a delicious time capsule that highlighted that dialogue that made Kookie a cultural standout:

Connie:  Kookie, Kookie, lend me your comb
Kookie, Kookie?

Edd:  Well now, let’s take it from the top and grab some wheels
We’re well along and talk about some cuckoo deals

Connie:  But Kookie, Kookie, lend me your comb
Kookie, Kookie?

Edd:  Now you’re on the way, miss, and I’m readin’ you just fine
Don’t cut out of here till we get on Cloud Nine

Connie:  But Kookie, Kookie?

Edd:  I’ve got smog in the noggin ever since you made the scene

Connie:: You’re the utmost

Edd: If you ever tool me out
Dad, I’m the saddest, like a brain

Connie:  The very utmost
Kookie, lend me your comb
Kookie, Kookie?

Edd:  Man, I got my British lighters and my flapsy-colored pen
You’re gonna send me to that planet called
You know it, baby, the end

Connie:  Kookie, Kookie, lend me your comb
Kookie, Kookie?

Edd:  If you ever cut out, you might be a stray cat
‘Cause when I’m flyin’ solo, nowhere’s we’re on that!

Connie:  Kookie, Kookie, lend me your comb
Kookie, Kookie?

Edd:  What’s with this comb caper, baby?
Why do you wanna latch up with my comb?

Connie:  I just want you to stop combing your hair and kiss me
You’re the maximum utmost

Edd:  Well, I’m beat and I’m dreams goin’, I’m movin’ right now
‘Cause that’s the kind of scene that I dig
Baby, you’re the ginchiest!!”

Now maybe these aren’t lyrics that would move an entire generation, but when the single was released in March 1959 it flew directly to hitsville.  With Connie Stevens and Edd Byrnes playful delivery and both being at the pinnacle of their popularity, over a million copies of “Kookie, Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb)” was sold.  To promote the song, Connie and Edd appeared on both “The Pat Boone Show” and “American Bandstand,” performing the song live to an audience of enthusiastic fans.  The song would even race up the Billboard charts, peaking at #4 in May 1959, making it one of the unlikeliest hits of the year.  But, whether great or not, Connie Steven’s refrain is a definite earworm, making her musical pleas remembered more today than the entire “77 Sunset Strip” franchise itself.

So, when you got a hit record, the next step is an entire album of course.  Both Connie Stevens and Edd Byrnes were brought into the studio to record individual albums in conjunction with their TV characters. While Connie’s “Cricket” album was a far more traditional pop album, Edd’s “Kookie” album was more Kookie themed novelty songs written in the spirt of “Kookie, Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb).”  But despite being filled with the same fun spirit and sense of cool, an entire album of Kookie songs was probably a bit too much.  As Griz said to me while listening to the album, “Just how many songs about Kookie can they record?”  Well, there was “Kookie’s Mad Pad,” “The Kookie Cha Cha Cha,” “Kookie’s Boogie” and “I Don’t Dig You Kookie,” which featured singer Joanie Summers.  Although the album is tons of fun for Kookie enthusiasts (such as me), the world probably didn’t really need that many Kookie songs.

A second single from the lp, “Like, I Love You,” was released featuring Edd Bynes with Joannie Summers having a comical conversation. but albeit fun, it failed to get airplay (Warner Brothers cross promoted Joannie Sommers involvement in the LP by giving her a guest appearance on a Season Two episode of “77 Sunset Strip.”)  Edd made one more trip into the recording studio later that year to cut a Christmas single called “Yulesville,” not included on the Kookie album, which had only moderate success.  Using his hip lingo to tell the classic tale of “T’was the Night Before Christmas,” the track eventually fell into obscurity, but its worth seeking out because it is certifiably cool.  Having been aware of it long before my bout of “Kookie Fever,” it’s been a favorite of mine for years.

Another strange, but natural, musical collaboration was formed in 1960 on “The Pat Boone Show” when Edd was paired with Bob Denver, who was also pioneering a similar lingo on the hit comedy “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis” in the role of Maynard G. Krebbs. For the episode Edd and Bob sang an original composition called “Hip Talk” where they tried to teach Pat Boonw how tto talk like a hipster. However, even the tutorage of Kookie and Krebbs couldn’t stop the squeaky clean Boone from being the squarest cat on television. A fabulous performance, its a terrible disappointment that Warner Brothers didn’t capitalize on this moment and record “Hip Talk” as a single because that may have had a chance at Billboard success. It was pure gold.

While “Kookie” didn’t produce any further hits, the album sold well and was deemed a success for Warner Brothers.  As a result, further albums were released featuring some of the other stars from the”77 Sunset Strip” franchise.  Months after the release of “Kookie,” Edd’s co-star Roger Smith put out his own album of flamenco guitar love songs titled “Beach Memories,” in 1960 The Frankie Ortega Trio, who were featured as the house band at Dino’s, put out a “live” album and Connie Francis’ “Hawaiian Eye” co-star Poncie Ponce would get his own album, “Poncie Ponce Sings” in 1962.  None of these future albums produced any Billboard hits, but all the performers were cross promoted in various television episodes, and combined create an interesting record collection of varying music genres.

But after Edd Byrnes brief flirtation with music, he seemed to have lost interest in recording.  Edd never had the ambition to be a musician, and he was far more concerned about keeping his career alive than becoming a rock n’ roll star.  You see that exclusive contract that he signed with Warner Brothers early in his career may have made him a star, but soon it was preventing his star from shining even brighter.  Edd soon was fighting to keep his career alive, which seemed like a losing battle.

In 1960, during the second season of “77 Sunset Strip,” Edd realized his value to the series, but felt that the producers were both underpaying and underutilizing him as an actor.  Fighting for both higher pay and more screen time, Edd walked off the set and had his contract frozen.  The producers tried to replace him, even giving future teen idol Troy Donahue a crack at being a stand in for Kookie, but after months of Kookieless episodes it was quickly realized that Edd Byrnes and Kookie were both important components that made “77 Sunset Strip” work. Renegotiating with him.  Edd came back to the series in time for Season Two’s finale, and by Season Four Kookie was no longer a car hop at Dino’s but a fully licenced gun carrying PI working at Spencer and Bailey.

But Edd had an even greater fight on his hands with Warner Brothers’ higher ups.  Being at the tail end of the studio system, Warner Brothers were holding tight onto Edd’s contract, and seeing him as a commodity for their studio, refused to lend him out to other studios for their projects.  As a result, Edd was contractually unable to appear in a number of major films of the era including “The Longest Day,” “North to Alaska,” “Rio Bravo” and “Ocean’s 11.”   Can you imagine how Edd Brynes; story would have changed if he had been living it up with Frank, Dean, Sammy and the gang in Vegas?  In 1960 he would have fit in perfectly with The Rat Pack, and it may have changed his entire career trajectory.  As “77 Sunset Strip” was entering its fifth season, Edd began to look beyond Kookie and saw that his career was going to nowheresville, and fast, Dad.  Thus, in 1963, in an attempt to free himself from the constraints of Warner Brothers’ control, he bought up the final ten months of his contract and left the studio, “Sunset Strip” and Kookie behind.

But as we have seen over and over again in pop culture, once you become so synonymous for playing a certain character, typecasting can kill your career more than a studio’s tyrannical control of your projects can.  Now in his 30’s, Edd couldn’t shake the Kookie character, and casting agents weren’t taking him seriously as a leading man.  For a while he got involved with Roger Corman, making some second-rate cheapies, and even tried to escape Kookie’s shadow by going to Europe to work in Spaghetti Westerns.  But, as youth culture began to change with the rise of the counter culture, Kookie quickly became a fixture of the past.  As the beat generation was replaced by flower power, Edd Byrnes found himself back on episodic television, often being cast as a parody of himself.

But Edd did make one more major appearance in film.  When 1950’s culture was going through its renaissance during the 1970’s, Edd was cast as Dick Clark inspired TV host Vince Fontaine  in 1978’s “Grease.”  As the judge of the epic dance off during the “Born to Hand Jive” number, the role did not call for Edd to have to sing  (the musical number was performed by Sha Na Na),but Edd is highly featured in this high energy and fun sequence.

While he did stay busy with frequent TV appearances throughout the1980’s and 1990’s, Edd Byrnes would get one last opportunity to revisit his music career in 1992 in one of the most unexpected of places, and paired with one of the unlikeliest bands.  In a Season Six episode of the sit-com “Married with Children,” Edd appeared as himself in a B plot, while thrash metal icons Anthrax were guests in the A plot.  In the final seconds of the episode Edd and Anthrax joined forces for a few lines of “Kookie Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb)” in a bizarre but endearing musical moment.  Not long after Edd retired from doing episodic television.  He released an autobiography in 1996 titled “Kookie No More,” and could sometimes be seen on the autograph show circuit before passing away on January 8, 2020, at age 87.

I don’t know why some stars stay on the forefront of the pop culture radar, while others seem to slip under it.  Edd Byrnes has sort of slipped from being a household name to being a curiosity that only fans of the era are aware of.  But I will tell you, Edd Byrnes was one of the best, and he deserves so much more recognition for his contribution to popular culture..  He was far more than just a face.  The guy could take a character who may have seemed ridiculous at the hands of another actor and made him genuinely cool.  Furthermore, he was a trendsetter that had Hollywood revise its playbook in regards to how youth culture was defined and created a unique language with phrases that have become part of the English language to this day.  He did all this and left us with a crazy memorable novelty song which has surpassed the memory of the source itself.  If you love crime procedurals as much as I do, and you haven’t watched “77 Sunset Strip” give the show a go.  Become kooky for Kookie too and see for yourself why he is ineed the ginchiest.