How Frankie Avalon Won My Teenage Heart
There was a time when a teenage girl’s bedroom wasn’t complete without a teen idol staring down from the wall. For me, that meant Frankie Avalon.
Before social media and streaming, teen idols reached fans through records, radio, movies, and fan magazines. In the 1950s and early 1960s, singers like Frankie Avalon and Paul Anka became heartthrobs whose songs filled teenage bedrooms—and whose pictures covered the walls.
“If a Miss wants to be kissed instead of cuddled,
And to this you are in doubt as what to say,
When a girl changes from bobby sox to stockings,
Then she’s old enough to give her heart away.”
Bobby Sox to Stockings
1959
Frankie Avalon
Rock and Roll grew out of Rhythm and Blues, along with influences from gospel and country music. Early stars like Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, Buddy Holly and Fats Domino brought an energy and rebellious edge to popular music. They had distinctive sounds, fresh ideas, and something the music industry couldn’t easily manufacture: originality.
The traditional white music establishment wasn’t exactly thrilled. Some worried that Rock and Roll would corrupt the younger generation, while others worried about what it might do to record sales. (I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume the kids came first.)
One response was to have more established pop singers record their own versions, or “covers,” of popular Rock and Roll songs. These polished renditions helped bring the music to a wider audience, even as they often softened the raw energy that made the originals so exciting.
“There was lollipop with-a Peggy Sue
Good Golly, Miss Molly was-a even there, too!
A-well-a, Splish Splash, I forgot about the bath
I went and put my dancin’ shoes on, yay… “
Splish Splash
1958
Bobby Darin
At first, these cover versions sometimes outsold the originals. Believe it or not, Pat Boone’s version of “Ain’t That a Shame” became a hit, even though Fats Domino had recorded the original.
Boone had a clean-cut, wholesome image that made him a safer choice for parents and mainstream radio. But there was one little problem: his polished version didn’t have quite the same raw energy as Domino’s original.
The teens wanted something cooler, Daddy-O—and Rock and Roll wasn’t supposed to play by the rules.
“Turn me loose,
Turn me loose, I say.
Gonna rock and roll
As long as the band’s gonna play.”
Turn Me Loose
1959
Fabian
Early Rock and Roll stars weren’t exactly the boys parents wanted their daughters bringing home. “Daddy, this is Jerry Lee. Jerry Lee, meet Daddy.” Oh, no! We were supposed to get good grades, go to college, and marry a nice boy with promising prospects—not fall for a rebellious rocker.
Enter the Teen Idols: a happy compromise between teenagers’ craving for a lively beat and parents’ preference for clean-cut stars. They may not have pushed musical boundaries like Little Richard, but they certainly knew how to capture teenage hearts.
And honestly, musical originality wasn’t exactly what I was thinking about back then. I was crazy about Frankie Avalon and wouldn’t have cared if he couldn’t carry a tune!
Ricky Nelson, Fabian, Bobby Rydell, Bobby Darin, Paul Anka, and my beloved Frankie Avalon were the dreamboats of the late 1950s and early 1960s. They weren’t just singers; they were the heartthrobs who defined a generation of teenage fans.
“Some people call me a Teenage Idol,
Some people say they envy me.
I guess they got no way of knowing
How lonesome I can be.”
Teen Age Idol
1962
Ricky Nelson
They were enormously popular. Attracting huge crowds wherever they went, their records proceeded to climb to the top of the Rock charts. Naturally, since armies of teenage girls wanted to touch them, legions of teenage boys tried to imitate them.
“And they called it Puppy Love
Just because we’re seventeen.
Tell them all, oh, please tell them
It isn’t fair to take away my only dream…”
Puppy Love
1960
Paul Anka
Frankie Avalon was my very favorite of the Teen Idols. Frankie had a prime position among the pictures on my bedroom door (nudged out Troy Donahue and that’s saying something.) The best part came in the early 60s when he teamed up with Annette Funicello of Mickey Mouse Club fame. See, I wanted to be Annette and besides, they did those beach movies, and I grew up in Ft. Lauderdale and well, you can see how a girl could get breathless.
“Forget him,
If he doesn’t love you.
Forget him,
If he doesn’t care…”
Forget Him
1964
Bobby Rydell
I’ll never forget Frankie. My old, scratchy 45 RPM record of his song “Beach Party” still holds an honored place in my jukebox.
Sadly, his picture is long gone. I wish I’d kept it. Back in the Fifties, it inspired plenty of teenage daydreams. Today, it brings back sweet memories of a time when a boy’s picture on my bedroom door could make my day.
Thanks, Frankie, wherever you are…
