“If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all.” — Albert King, “Born Under a Bad Sign.”

There is lots of lore about popular music in the 1950s and ‘60s, but I’d like to focus on three of the unluckiest performers of that era.

I speak of German bandleader Bert Kaempfert, country singer Bobby Bare and New Orleans jazz sessions bandleader Huey “Piano” Smith. Perhaps three of the most underrated stars of their times.

Bert Kaempfert

Though some listeners may have consigned this German bandleader to the dust heap of semi-classical conductors such as Arthur Fielder and Andre Kostelanetz, I found him to be much more.

He did hit the big time late in 1960 with his instrumental megabit “Wonderland by Night.” But he came back with interesting ditties such as “Afrikaan Beat,” “Red Roses for a Blue Lady,” “Moon Over Naples (Spanish Eyes”) and “Strangers in the Night.” He wrote the last two on this list.

Kaempfert’s “Red Roses for a Blue Lady” appeared on the Hot 100 Billboard list at a strange time. It was one of three entries all at the same time. Bert’s was instrumental, of course, but crooners Wayne Newton and Vic Dana had the other two. I think Dana’s was the most successful.

But Kaempfert wrote and performed with his orchestra “Moon Over Naples,” a haunting melody that didn’t do all that well by itself, but then was hijacked by Al Martino, who sang lyrics to that music.

Not long afterward, Kaempfert was victimized by the same process yet again, this time by Frank Sinatra in 1966 with “Strangers in the Night,” Frankie’s biggest hit song of his career. Kaempfert wrote the music for the film “A Man Could Get Killed,” but the most memorable part of the whole affair was Sinatra’s feeble attempt to sign off with “Doo Bee Doo Bee Doo, Doo Doo Doo Deeda…”

Bobby Bare

Bare was one of the most unusual victims of bad luck early in 1959 when he let friend Billy Parsons do a demo of the novelty hit he wrote, called “All-America Boy.” It rose almost to the top of the Billboard 100, and though it was Bare’s voice narrating the spoken word song, it mistakenly was attributed to Parsons on the record label.

Bare came back in 1963 with his award-winning and well received “Detroit City” and he had a long string of hits afterward.

Huey “Piano” Smith

Huey was a big part of the New Orleans jazz session scene and he played a mean boogie-woogie style of piano. It was true his voice left something to be desired, he and the Clowns produced the first rendition of “The Rockin’ Pneumonia and the Boogie Boogie Flu.”

Two years later, Huey Piano Smith and the Clowns came up with the nonsense novelty his “Doncha Just Know It,” which I heard often afternoons in 1958 on some the earliest American Bandstand programs.

Then came the nasty part.

Huey and the Clowns recorded “Sea Cruise,” which was a massive hit in 1959, but Huey’s voice was replaced by Frankie Ford. Many observers regarded the switch as an example of racism.

Nonetheless, when you listen to “Sea Cruise” as a golden oldie, be aware all that terrific background music is provided by Huey “Piano” Smith and the Clowns.

As Paul Harvey used to say, “Now you know the rest of the story.”