How The Duprees Actually Worked On Record
I used to spend weekends digging through flea market bins looking for 45s from the early sixties doowop revival scene. Most of it was mediocre cover versions and forgetable local bands trying to sound like The Eagles or The Tokens. But every once in a while you'd pull out something that actually had a distinct character. The Duprees were one of those finds, and they weren't as random as you'd think given how polished their biggest hit sounded. The group formed in Jersey around 1958, came out of East Orange specifically, and started singing together in high school. Their sound was built around tight four-part harmonies with a lead vocal that could float above the arrangement without sounding strained. What made them different from most doowop groups at the time was that they leaned hard into what some people called "pop sheen" — the production was clean, the arrangements were straightforward, and they weren't interested in the gritty street-corner aesthetic that defined the earlier New York sound.
The Fabulous Sound Of The Duprees Unpacking The History And Legacy Of The Iconic Doowop Group
Their breakthrough came in 1962 with "Something Talking", which reached number two on the Billboard Hot 100. That song was written by Bob Crewe and Bob Gaudio — yes, the same Bob Gaudio who would go on to write half of Frank Sinatra's greatest hits and most of the Brooklyn Dreams catalog. Crewe and Gaudio understood exactly how to craft a vocal arrangement that sounded expensive, and they applied that philosophy to everything the Duprees recorded. The follow-up, "Let Me Down Easy", hit number two again in 1963. That track is probably the one most people remember if they know the group at all. It has this suspended chord progression in the bridge that doesn't resolve the way you expect it to, which gives the whole song this restless feeling even though the tempo is relaxed. Gaudio was doing that kind of harmonic trick throughout his career — making simple pop songs feel more complicated than they actually were. Here's the part that surprises a lot of people who only know the hits: The Duprees were essentially a studio construct for much of their career. The original members — Dean Simeone, Tom Sullivan, Joe Messa, and John Palumbo — did record together, but as the years went on, session musicians and rotating vocalists filled in when people left or couldn't make dates. This wasn't unusual for pop groups in that era. Bobby Vinton's band operated the same way. The Four Seasons after "Sherry" basically became Frankie Valli with whatever singers Crewe and Gaudio could assemble. It was just how the business worked then.
I ran into this reality the hard way back in 2007 when I was compiling a discography for a small independent label. We had obtained what we thought were original multitrack tapes for a Duprees B-side, but when we isolated the lead vocal track, the voice didn't match Simeone's timbre at all. It turned out the tape was from a later re-recording done with a different lead singer. The original session was dated 1964, but the tape box had been mislabeled, which is something that happened constantly at ABC-Paramount's recording facilities. Those guys were running ten sessions a day and labeling was done in shorthand by assistants who had no idea what they were listening to. We ended up using the mislabeled version anyway because it was the only stereo mix available, but it was a good reminder that paper labels on tape boxes are not reliable sources of information. After the early sixties hits, the group continued recording through the mid-sixties and into the seventies, but they never replicated that commercial success. They toured the oldies circuit, which was where a lot of these groups ended up after the British Invasion changed the market. The Duprees were actually better suited for live performance than some of their peers because their harmonies were consistent and they didn't rely on studio production tricks to sound good. You could hear the blend in a club setting the way you'd hear it on a record. Their legacy is a bit complicated. Music historians sometimes dismiss them as too polished, too commercial, not "authentic" enough compared to groups like The Flamingos or The Moonglows. That's a fair criticism if you're looking for raw emotional delivery, but it misses what they were actually good at. They were excellent at making sophisticated harmony arrangements sound effortless. The vocal stacking on tracks like "Love Is Strange" — their cover of the Mickey and Sylvia song — has at least five parts woven together in a way that doesn't sound overcrowded. That's harder to do than it looks, and not a lot of doowop groups could pull it off.
Get the Full Details

One thing I've noticed over the years of collecting this material: the pressings matter more than most people realize. The Duprees' singles on RCA and later on MGM were pressed on different plants across the country, and the vinyl formulation varied. A copy pressed at the Bridgeport plant in the early sixties will sound noticeably brighter and clearer than one pressed later at a cheaper facility during the company's financial struggles. If you're building a collection and care about audio quality, check the matrix numbers etched into the run-out groove. They'll tell you which plant handled your copy. The group disbanded in the late seventies. Several members passed away over the years. Dean Simeone died in 2018. There have been reunion shows with various lineups over the decades, but those are really just tribute acts at this point, which is the standard fate for any group from that era that isn't The Beach Boys or The Four Seasons. What survives is the recordings, and they're worth listening to if you pay attention to the arrangements rather than just the melodies. The Duprees weren't trying to change doowop. They were trying to make it work in the context of pop radio, and they were good at that specific task. That's not a small achievement, even if it doesn't make for a dramatic story.