The year is 1959, and the air crackles with sonic change. The foundational grit of 1950s rock and roll—the raw, rebellious sneer—was giving way to something smoother, more accessible, and meticulously crafted for the pop charts. This shift wasn’t a surrender; it was a masterful reinterpretation, where the vocal group dynamic of doo-wop became the vehicle for manic, yet clean, energy. And no record encapsulates this exquisite tension quite like The Diamonds’ single, “She Say (Oom Dooby Doom).”

I first heard this piece of music not on a dusty 45, but through a cheap transistor radio at a family picnic, a relic tuned to an oldies station. The bass voice, the hiccuping lead, the sheer, unadulterated bounce of the track—it was immediate, uncomplicated joy. The song wasn’t trying to be profound; it was simply trying to compel you to move, and in that, it was a spectacular success. It felt like finding a forgotten carnival ticket tucked into an old book.

 

Context: The Canadian Cover Kings

To understand “She Say” is to understand The Diamonds’ unique position in the music landscape. Hailing from Toronto, the Canadian vocal quartet—originally Dave Somerville, Ted Kowalski, Phil Leavitt, and Bill Reed—made their name as interpreters. Signed to Mercury Records, their biggest successes came from covering R&B hits by Black artists and smoothing the edges for the dominant pop audience. Their versions of songs like “Little Darlin'” (originally by The Gladiolas) became defining hits of the era.

By 1959, however, the group was in a state of flux. While lead singer Dave Somerville remained the constant, personnel changes were underway, and the group’s early-career strategy of covering R&B tracks was becoming less viable as the decade closed. “She Say (Oom Dooby Doom)” arrived as a single on Mercury in early 1959, reportedly peaking inside the top twenty on the US Billboard charts and top five on the UK chart. While it did not match the stratospheric heights of “Little Darlin’,” it marked a crucial point: a continued reliance on the uptempo, narrative-driven style that had made them stars. It was not tied to a specific studio album at the time, but quickly became an essential cut on retrospective compilations.

 

Sound and Studio Craft

The production quality of “She Say” is fascinatingly indicative of late-50s rock-pop crossover efforts. The arrangement is deceptively simple, yet packed with detail. It is built entirely around the rhythmic propulsion and the vocal harmonies, a style perfectly suited for the constraints of AM radio.

The core of the sound is the rhythm section. A tight, booming upright bass guitar line establishes the frantic, four-to-the-floor pulse. The drums, mixed with an almost harsh clarity, provide sharp rim shots and emphatic thumps that drive the oom dooby doom feel. There is no major instrumentation from a dedicated lead piano or prominent horns, allowing the voices to dominate the sonic space. What little melodic texture exists outside the vocals comes from a clean, understated electric guitar part that often simply reinforces the core rhythm with quick, muted strums, adding a percussive attack more than a complex harmonic layer.

This arrangement choice ensures that the star of the album—or rather, the single—is the vocal quartet. Dave Somerville’s lead vocal, full of an almost breathless energy, tells the song’s slight, comedic story of a confusing romantic situation. His voice is clean and bright, sitting right at the front of the mix.

“It is the sound of pure, unbridled vocal harmony being used as a rhythmic instrument.”

Surrounding him are the rich, close harmonies of the backing singers. The trademark of The Diamonds was their seamless blend, and here they deploy the doo-wop lexicon—the high tenor shouts, the low bass counterpoint, and, most crucially, the nonsense syllables. The track’s hook, the titular “oom dooby doom,” is a brilliant piece of rhythmic syllabic work. It is the sound of pure, unbridled vocal harmony being used as a rhythmic instrument. It’s perfectly constructed for transistor radios and the nascent home audio boom of the suburban American teenager.

 

Glamour vs. Grit in the Golden Age

What the track lacks in bluesy grit, it makes up for in polished, high-gloss energy. This is a song designed to sound fantastic on a jukebox—a clean, vibrant snapshot of a highly choreographed performance. The recording technique, while seemingly rudimentary by modern standards, captures the group’s vocal power with remarkable presence. Listening to it now, especially through quality studio headphones, one can appreciate the slight room reverb and the sheer, physical force of the bass vocalist’s contribution.

The energy that The Diamonds captured here is often overlooked when we consider the era. It was a time of high contrast: the glamour of matching stage suits and television appearances against the gritty, often-censored lyrical content and musical origins. “She Say” manages to bridge that divide—a song built from the raw framework of R&B, but delivered with the highly-rehearsed, smile-through-it-all precision of a pop act.

I remember watching an old clip of the group performing on a popular TV variety show from that time. Their movements were synchronized, their smiles blinding, yet the music itself was gloriously frantic. It perfectly illustrates how rock and roll, having been scrubbed for mainstream acceptance, retained its primal, irresistible pulse. The song’s central theme—a simple, slightly exasperated tale of relationship confusion—is universal, yet the delivery is specific to that cultural moment: light, fast, and entirely captivating.

“She Say” ultimately became one of The Diamonds’ final major chart successes before the rock landscape shifted dramatically toward solo artists and the emerging British Invasion. It stands as a magnificent period piece—a vibrant, if manic, epitaph for the vocal group dominance of the pre-Beatles era. It’s a sonic document of the moment when pop and the rhythm-and-blues explosion learned to dance together, however briefly.


 

Listening Recommendations

  1. Danny & The Juniors – “At The Hop”: Shares the same uptempo, high-energy, and shout-along chorus structure, perfect for dancing.
  2. The Crests – “Sixteen Candles”: A contemporary doo-wop ballad that showcases the romantic side of the same era’s vocal harmony sound.
  3. The Fleetwoods – “Come Softly To Me”: Demonstrates the softer, airier side of the late-50s vocal group chart sound with similar mic placement.
  4. The Coasters – “Charlie Brown”: Captures a comparable level of comedic, narrative-driven lyricism, backed by playful rock and roll instrumentation.
  5. Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers – “Why Do Fools Fall in Love”: A prime example of the R&B vocal group original style that The Diamonds frequently covered and popularized.
  6. Little Richard – “Good Golly Miss Molly”: Provides the raw, unbridled rock and roll energy that The Diamonds’ version distilled and polished for the pop audience.

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