‘Ich-I-Bon #1’: the bizarre surf rock instrumental released by Motown Records
Bringing the sweet sounds of Detroit soul and R&B to the global masses, Motown Records is among the most important record labels in American musical history. Before Berry Gordy’s label landed upon the stylings of stars like Marvin Gaye or Diana Ross, though, Motown had its soulful fingers in a variety of pies, trying everything to strike a solid-gold hit. Perhaps one of its most bizarre attempts to court the pop charts, however, was the instrumental surf rock single ‘Ich-I-Bon #1’.
Released in 1959, the same year that Berry Gordy officially founded Motown (under the original name Tamla), ‘Ich-I-Bon #1’ seemed to be trying to capitalise on the blossoming world of rock and roll instrumentals and surf rock. After all, the sun-soaked sounds of instrumental surf dominated the American rock scene during the late 1950s and early 1960s, spurred on by the efforts of artists like Dick Dale or The Chantays. However, the vast majority of surf hits were centred around the beach lifestyle of California, a world away from the concrete industrialism of Detroit.
Still, Berry Gordy was a businessman first and foremost. So, when a garage rock outfit from Pontiac, Michigan, calling themselves Nick and the Jaguars, approached him with a pre-recorded surf instrumental called ‘Ich-I-Bon #1’, he recognised its potential for success. On this particular occasion, however, Gordy’s aptitude for spotting hit records failed him. Surf had yet to hit the musical mainstream, and it never fostered a particularly colossal audience in areas like Detroit anyway, leaving Motown’s core following largely alienated by the guitar-led track.
That is not to say, however, that the song is without its merits. Opening into an energetic exclamation of the song’s title, the Pontiac outfit launches into two-and-a-half minutes of infectiously groovy guitars. Imbued with the kind of energy that is only found within the landscape of surf rock, the song’s anthemic, hand-clapping quality predicted the later sounds of the surf genre in the 1960s, while its moments of wailing guitars bear resemblance to the rise of dissonant alternative rock decades later.
Despite its appeal, the song is far from being a masterpiece, either. Its short runtime doesn’t give it much opportunity for development, or even a proper conclusion. After a couple of minutes, the song just fades out mid-riff, as though the band ran out of studio time halfway through the recording and had to improvise. Either way, it is an odd song and a definite outlier within Motown’s discography.
Its commercial failure can probably be attributed to that unexpected quality. Not only was it Motown’s first release by a white artist, but it was unavoidably different from the styles of soul and R&B that Motown had built itself upon. Sure, the label had yet to foster its reputation as a haven for Detroit soul artists, but even in those early days, punters expected to hear something closer to R&B than surf rock released under the Motown banner.
Needless to say, therefore, the single sold miserably upon its release. Soon thereafter, Gordy’s label witnessed its first hit single with Barrett Strong’s ‘Money (That’s What I Want)’, which formed the artistic direction of the label in the following years. Surf rock was definitely out.
In more recent years, however, the obscure surf single has fostered something of a cult audience. Original pressings of the Motown single have fetched upwards of £500 at auction, and the track was even repressed in 2015 by Jack White’s Third Man Records, reintroducing its proto-surf excellence to new generations of listeners.
