The memory I hold of this song is not of the radio dial, but of a quiet, sun-drenched Saturday afternoon. It’s the sound escaping the neighbor’s window—a window I suspect contained a modest, well-loved turntable, the kind with a needle that tracked a little heavy. The record was spinning at 45 RPM, the spindle adapter surely in place. You could hear the music’s full, slightly compressed warmth, a sound texture that has become synonymous with the early 1960s—that perfect, intimate tension between studio professionalism and raw vocal conviction.
That’s how “Our Day Will Come” by Ruby And The Romantics hits you: not as a bombastic anthem, but as a whispered, profoundly felt promise. It is the sound of patience finally paying off, an audio snapshot of a group, previously known as The Feilos, seizing their moment on the world stage.
The Context: From Akron to the Apex
In the vast, crowded firmament of 1960s vocal groups, Ruby And The Romantics are often granted a single, bright star: the 1963 chart-topper “Our Day Will Come.” The group, hailing from Akron, Ohio, and led by the immaculate voice of Ruby Nash, arrived at Kapp Records relatively late to the dance, yet with a sound ready for primetime.
The story surrounding this song’s recording is legendary in the quiet corners of music history. Writers Mort Garson and Bob Hilliard reportedly intended the number for an established easy-listening crooner. It took the belief and perhaps even a promise from Kapp Records’ A&R director, Allen Stanton, to let this newly signed R&B group take a shot. The move proved to be an act of serendipity. Stanton, credited as the producer, guided the session that would vault the group from regional success to national—and international—prominence.
Released as a single in late 1962, it soon climbed the charts, hitting Number 1 on both the Billboard Hot 100 and the R&B chart in 1963. It was a massive, cross-over triumph, and the title track of their debut album of the same name. Despite this phenomenal success, the group’s subsequent singles, while excellent, never quite recaptured the same chart altitude, which makes this specific piece of music stand alone—a solitary peak in a respectable, yet underexploited, career arc on the Kapp and later ABC labels.
The Sound: Bossa Nova Meets Bedroom Soul
The brilliance of the arrangement is its deceptive simplicity. On paper, it is a straightforward ballad. In the groove, it is a complex, almost cinematic blend of textures that defies easy genre labeling, bridging the space between sophisticated adult contemporary and nascent soul.
At its core is a subtle, yet crucial, rhythmic figure—a bossa nova shuffle, perfectly executed. The bass, often a simple, plucked line, provides an anchored warmth, while the drums lightly feather the beat, relying on soft brushstrokes and minimal snare work. This restraint in the rhythm section allows the more melodic, harmonically rich elements to float above.
The signature of the sound is the instrumentation of the mid-range. A warm, slightly brittle Hammond organ, reportedly played by Leroy Glover, takes on a lead melodic role. Its solo section, brief and soulful, is the song’s instrumental heart, providing a sense of both the exotic and the grounded. In other vocal group arrangements of the era, the piano might have anchored the harmony, but here, the organ carries the weight, adding a spiritual, almost church-like patina. The background voices of The Romantics—Ed Roberts, George Lee, Ronald Mosely, and Leroy Fann—provide a luxurious cushion for Nash, not in the call-and-response style of pure R&B, but with tight, disciplined harmonies closer to The Four Freshmen or The Hi-Lo’s. They are the frame for the portrait.
The inclusion of multiple guitar players on the session—names like Vinnie Bell, Al Gorgoni, and the jazz titan Kenny Burrell are often cited—speaks to the care taken with the subtle coloration. The guitar lines are not flashy; they are textural. They provide a high, crystalline counterpoint, small rhythmic flourishes that decorate the edges of the soundstage. Listening through studio headphones, one notices the depth of the reverb—a generous, open hall sound that gives the vocal performance its sense of space, pushing Ruby Nash’s lead voice forward with an almost three-dimensional clarity.
The Voice: A Masterclass in Restraint
Ruby Nash’s vocal performance is the center of gravity. She doesn’t belt; she invites. Her voice possesses a remarkable combination of smoothness and restrained intensity. She sells the song’s central message—a hopeful, patient declaration of ultimate fidelity—without ever resorting to histrionics.
Notice her phrasing on lines like, “Our day will come / If we just wait a while.” The soft attack on the words, the gentle, lingering vibrato on “come” and “while” suggests a deeply held, yet entirely secure, conviction. There is no desperate pleading here, only the confident certainty that a better future is inevitable. The lyrics, written by Hilliard, are pure pop poetry, transforming a simple domestic wish into a universal romantic ideal.
“The true genius of ‘Our Day Will Come’ lies in its quiet confidence, the way it uses a gentle bossa nova heartbeat to disguise a steel-plated declaration of faith.”
This quiet strength is what made the song a slow-burn sensation. It defied the harder edges of some contemporary R&B and the teen-pop simplicity of the day. It demanded a listener pay attention to the nuance, the rich interplay of voices and instruments. This careful, measured arrangement, with its sophisticated touch of Latin rhythm, elevates the material beyond a typical vocal group record, positioning it as a sophisticated pop record capable of enduring in the premium audio landscape for generations.
Micro-Stories: The Enduring Promise
The song’s longevity lies in its applicability to modern, private moments of aspiration.
- A student, late-night cramming in a shared apartment, listens to the track on repeat. It’s not just a love song; it’s a quiet vow that the effort, the sacrifice, the long hours will yield a degree, a career, a reward. “Our day will come.”
- A newly relocated professional, navigating the anonymity of a major city, plays it while unpacking boxes. The city feels vast and cold, but the melody is a warmth, a reminder that roots will eventually take hold, and the loneliness will fade.
- A young couple, dealing with the daily grind of early marriage, financial strains, or simple exhaustion, puts it on after the kids are asleep. It’s a soft-focus moment of reconnection, a reaffirmation that they are a team working toward a shared, beautiful horizon.
It is a musical promise note. And like any great promise, its value only increases with time and the weight of waiting. To experience its magic is to willingly suspend the present and invest fully in a brighter, shared future. Give it a spin. Let the organ swell and Ruby Nash’s voice remind you of the sweet inevitability of hope.
Listening Recommendations
- The Shirelles – “Will You Love Me Tomorrow” (1960): Shares the lyrical preoccupation with a future relationship status, framed by equally gorgeous, restrained pop production.
- Skeeter Davis – “The End of the World” (1962): An adjacent mood of profound, bittersweet balladry delivered with an elegant, almost clinical vocal performance.
- The Drifters – “Under the Boardwalk” (1964): Another early 60s track that expertly blends a light Latin-tinged rhythm with complex, soulful harmonies and a cinematic arrangement.
- Leroy Glover – “Samba With Organ” (1963): For fans of the Hammond organ’s role, this highlights the instrument’s often-overlooked rhythmic and textural power in the era.
- Jackie DeShannon – “What the World Needs Now Is Love” (1965): Another Burt Bacharach/Hal David-style sophisticated pop song of the mid-60s that utilizes delicate arrangement for massive emotional impact.
- The Carpenters – “I Won’t Last a Day Without You” (1972): A later example of a duo arrangement with tight, polished vocals and a lush orchestral bed that echoes the clean sentiment of Ruby’s track.