
Yorkshire Records: An unlikely haven of New York garage rock
Yorkshire, being the vast, beautiful county that it is, has made countless contributions to the musical realm over the decades, spanning the spectrum from the indie rock revolution of Arctic Monkeys to the free improvisational stylings of Derek Bailey.
During the age of 1960s garage rock, though, Yorkshire’s greatest contribution to the scene occurred thousands of miles away from God’s own country.
A precursor to the kind of grassroots rebellion that would go on to typify the punk rock revolution, the American garage rock scene that emerged in the wake of the British invasion saw countless tiny, independent record labels spring up across the States. Typically centred around major cities and college towns, in particular, these labels didn’t have the kind of nationwide distribution boasted by the majors, but those limitations brought with them an unparalleled sense of freedom.
Namely, independent record labels could release – within reason – whatever they pleased, without too much worry about its commercial potential or, in many cases, musical quality. Hence, the garage scene birthed thousands of raw power rock and roll records made by young bands without much in the way of musical skill, carried forth solely via their attitude and energy.
Hang on, you may be saying, what on Earth has the garage rock scene got to do with Yorkshire? The county had its fair share of rock outfits back in the 1960s, sure, but the industrial landscapes of Sheffield, Bradford, or Hull were halfway across the world from the epicentre of garage rock’s musical revolution over in the United States. That much is true.
Nevertheless, in the unlikely surroundings of 1960s New York City, budding music mogul, songwriter, and Yiddish performer Cy Levitan decided to call his newly established record label Yorkshire Records, thus forging a bizarre connection between the garage scene of the Big Apple and the rolling green hills of the Dales across the Atlantic.
Exactly why Levitan chose to call his record label Yorkshire Records is about as obscure as the label itself, although the picture of the dog that appears on the company’s yellow labels would seem to suggest that it came as a result of the Yorkshire terrier, rather than the county itself. Either way, between 1962 and 1972, the company released a deluge of predominantly garage rock and R&B singles, none of which managed to reach the dizzying heights of the US singles charts.
For garage rock obsessives and record collectors, though, Yorkshire Records has remained a pretty well-kept secret for over half a century. While there is nothing overly revolutionary about the label’s output, its collection of obscure and often quite experimental garage records marks a vital point both in the history of New York’s musical output and in the timeline of alternative rock itself.
Yorkshire’s discography contains the roots of the garage sound, in the form of The Younger Generation’s cover of The Kinks’ ‘You Really Got Me’, as well as how the musicians within that scene predicted the later rise of mid-1970s punk rock.
What’s more, in the age of music streaming, where millions of songs are able to be summoned up at the click of a button, it is reassuring that there are still hidden and forgotten jewels to be found, like the albeit scarce discography of Yorkshire Records. No matter how diffuse its connection to the musical haven of Yorkshire, England, that long-forgotten garage label is well worth revisiting.