This instrumental track is quite the melding of two greats. A Duke Ellington rendition of a W.C Handy composition. Handy was a composer who had immersed himself in study of the blues as it existed at the turn of the century. At that time, the Delta Blues was mainly located in Mississippi, and was a cultural cornerstone of the African-American population. From these studies and musical experience, Handy was able to compose a piece called the “Memphis Blues” in 1912. That piece cemented Handy’s reputation. The Yellow Dog Blues was first released in 1919.

In the meanwhile, Duke Ellington spent the 1920s becoming an institution in the Harlem neighborhood of New York City. In the late 20’s, Ellington and his orchestra became the headliners at the legendary Cotton Club. His rendition of Handy’s Yellow Dog Blues was recorded in 1928, in the midst of these key years in his career.

The Yellow Dog Blues has an easy swaying sound to it that simply never lets up. No matter the instrument in Ellington’s orchestra that is chiming in on the piece, there is a remarkable presence of cool. Even while the music can become excited, it never becomes bombastic. This quality makes its less than 3 minute stay with the listener an enjoyable one, that does not wear out its welcome. This little tune really is dynamite!

With today’s entry, two thoughts take the forefront. First, don’t let the word “novelty” in the name of today’s group fool you. The work of Sol Ho’opii is important, and earned him a place in the pages of history as a Hawaiian musical genius. Second, this piece just oozes a summertime vibe, with its leisurely pace and instrumentation. Hopefully the music inspires beach scenes for you, as it did for me.

Born in 1902, Sol was taught the instruments of his native Hawaii, but later made his way to Los Angeles, where he collided with the sounds of jazz. His work on this song shows that he likely faced little challenge in fusing the sounds of Hawaii with that of the greater United States. Of course, for composing the Hula Blues, we must look to Johnny Noble. Born a decade before Ho’opii, Noble had worked in Hawaiian hotels, and was taught the emerging “Half-Hawaiian” style. Ho’opii first played with Noble before coming to the continental U.S. His recording of Hula Blues comes from 1920, just a year or so after its initial composition.

The lyrics of the song also work within the concept of “fusion”. It speaks of the hula, a traditional Hawaiian dance, but places it in the context of the blues. The song also makes mention of Okolehao, a Hawaian alcoholic beverage. By mixing these elements in with a sound that was so American, Noble and Ho’opii could make more continental Americans familiar with Hawaian culture and concepts.

Aside from doing my own solitary listening to discover share-worthy songs, I have discovered that I am not alone in my pursuit of sounds from the past. There have been, and will be times that my research takes me out past the world-wide web, and simply places me out in the world. Such an encounter took place this past Sunday, when I had the great privilege of meeting with a fellow early 1900s music enthusiast. Being older than myself, it was not surprising that his collection was vast and varied. He had, in his possession, Victrolas from just after the turn of the 20th century, and 78 records from roughly the same period. This was an active demonstration, as the victrolas were not just for show. Before my eyes, they were hand-cranked, the needle was dropped, and I heard glorious, acoustic sound. While it had an unmistakable roughness about its edges, the core of the music was so satisfying it was difficult to care about the ravages time had wrought upon the records.

Pictured above is an Edison B250 from 1915. I was taken with the design on the front of the unit.

Next up is a Victor Victrola from 1910.

Lastly, a Victor Victrola 17, so named because it hails from the year 1917.

I hope that the images of these machines inspire your imaginations as they did mine. They were each beautiful in their own way. I would also like to thank their owner for allowing me to spend time with his collection, and take these pictures. I look forward to exploring other facets of early music preservation, and when I do, I’ll faithfully share them, right here.

With many well-known current artists going by a singular moniker, be they Adele, Madonna or Ke$ha, I get the impression that the subject of today’s post may well have felt right at home on today’s scene. Not with the sound, but with the artistic naming convention. For while he was born Benjamin Baruch Ambrose, his stage name was simply “Ambrose”. This track is a standout, as it not only features the backing talents of Mr. Ambrose’s Orchestra, but it also features the Hamilton Sisters on vocals. The sisters were Vaudeville and Broadway gold. The icing on the cake? One half of the composing team for this tune was Richard Rogers, of Rogers and Hammerstein fame. Though, here, his partner was Lorenz Hart. The song was written for a 1927 London show and then later used in an American production. This recording hails from the year of its creation, 1927.

With such a pedigree, what of the content of this little tune? The song proved to have staying power, and has been covered over the years by the likes of Rod Stewart and the Mamas and the Papas. The song focuses on the idea of love at first sight. The singer says they were just going to have one look, they swear. Yet, that’s when their heart stood still. Unlike others stricken with affection, the singer still had full use of their voice and legs. They describe the overall experience as a “thrill”. The sweetness of the lyric is made manifest by the angelic harmony of the Hamilton Sisters. Without their presence, the song would have still maintained a light, airy quality with its instrumentation. With the Hamilton Sisters, however? The song floats.

Here is a song that seems devoted to giving the listener quite the opportunity to dance their cares away. The vocals don’t appear until almost two minutes into a song that comes in at three minutes and nine seconds! This proportion of music to singing is one that is almost expected of music of the day, but it is always perplexing when the vocals that are present are just so earnest and quality, as they are here. It would seem that Cummins, bandleader and vocalist on this track, wanted his band members an opportunity to shine on this track, and shine they do. This track, like many from the era, is classified on the label as a Foxtrot. This was placed tactically and helpfully by the record company.

The Foxtrot was developed in the 1910s. Originating in the African-American community, it quickly caught on. Existing usually in 4/4 time, different from the 3/4 rhythm of the waltz, its fast pace made it an easy match for ragtime and similar musical styles that were contemporaries of the Foxtrot. This dance style became the most popular “fast” style-carrying on quite the legacy. In fact, when first marketing this newfangled rock and roll fad, the track “Rock Around the Clock” was labeled a foxtrot by the record company. This habit of labeling tracks with Foxtrot, even on “Little by Little”, smacks partly of buzzword usage by record labels, but also a helpful suggestion for would be dancers on just how to get down to the beat.

Now onto the lyrical content. Special mention has to be given to lyricist Walter O’Keefe for rhyming “horizon” with “eyes on”. It flows marvelously. Aside from this, the song is interesting in that it portrays a one-sided love that hopes to be two-sided some day, It is not a love that was, but is a love that may yet be. After all, isn’t it better to be hopeful than mournful?

Link to Song Via YouTube

Today’s tune is somewhat special. Aside from being a fine song, full of sentiment, this rendition is brought to us by a Philadelphia man. Howard Lanin was born in Philadelphia in 1897. Growing up in the city, he left high school at the age of fifteen to pursue his musical aspirations. Aside from the Orchestra that Howard would lead, two of his brothers led groups of their own. Lanin also opened the Roseland Ballroom in Philadelphia, which had a second location in New York City. Lanin would pass away in 1991 in Philadelphia, at the age of 93.

The instrumental introduction of this piece evokes a playful tone, which quickly subsides to a more relaxed, smooth mood. Given the nighttime setting, this is altogether appropriate. When the vocals do cut in, the harmony and lyrics perpetuate this playful tone. The opening line even includes a reference to “peek a boo”. Far from man’s innate fear of the dark, the song’s content grabs hold of those things that comfort us at night, the moon, our pillows, our dreams. The singer asks that the moonbeams plant a kiss upon his beloved. He also wishes her to know that he will be ever faithful. With the makings of a romantic lullaby of sorts, this tune doesn’t do half bad. The words and lyrics were created by Harry Woods and Mort Dixon in 1927, the same year Lanin created his rendition.

Link to Song Via Youtube

One of the first things about this 1935 track that hits the listener is its upbeat character. From the word “go” the instrumental backing is cool and confident, yet not without a tender undertone. The lyrics reflect this mood-the singer is stating what will happen about a quarter to nine. No wishes, hopes or dreams here. This man’s got himself a timetable. The only hint of nervousness on the part of the lovesick vocalist comes in a later line where he says he’ll await his lover on “needles and pins”. Still, confidence wins the day, as the final lyric states that the “world is gonna be mine/this evening about a quarter to nine”. This shows the singer thinks the world of his sweetheart, and he wants the evening mood to be just right for the occasion.

The more popular music was a later addition in the career of Victor Young. As a teenager he was much more in the classical realm, touring Europe with the Warsaw Philharmonic. 1931 saw his first signing with American record label Brunswick. He later switched to Decca, the label that carried this rendition of “About a Quarter to Nine”. While that song was written by another team for an earlier film, Young’s later career would focus on providing film scores. Young would receive his sole Academy Award posthumously, in 1956.

Link to Song Via Youtube

This song comes to us from the songwriter/composer duo of Irving Kahal and Sammy Fain. Their teamwork brought about a library that saw life on the silver screen and Broadway. Being one of their earlier compositions together (1927), “I Left My Sugar Standing in the Rain” existed for its own sake. The working partnership ended with the death of Irving Kahal in 1942.

Lyrically, the song is a sort of bittersweet hodgepodge. On the one hand, it humorously offers up a great visual metaphor, one’s sweetheart literally melting away like sugar. Another potential sugar pun comes in the line I guess my sweetie thought I was the low down kind/I didn’t realize that he was so refined. If only the woman in the song could have met Led Zeppelin. She would have learned that any man left in the rain feels like a fool. At least she feels remorseful for the way she treated her former lover. Once the lyrical wit subsides, the listener is left with a sombre, swinging tune. While staying mostly downbeat, it occasionally delves into a happier sound. This completes the song’s interweaving of a love that’s no longer, but hey, the singer can still feel good and make jokes about it.

Link via YouTube

Phil Harris and his Orchestra’s take on this ragtime hit comes from 1932/33. This particular version is just one in a sea of releases, as the 12th Street Rag was a standout hit. Introduced in 1914, the song traveled along a pathway of steadily improving fortunes. 1927 marked the year that Louis Armstrong and his orchestra took a stab at the 12th Street Rag, and this was a turning point for the song. Such was the staying power of this piece that it was a Billboard number 1 hit in 1948! So, what is it about this song in particular?

The song begins with a classic intro, and then almost immediately leading into the swinging melody, This version is supported nicely by the banjo. A strength of the main melody is just how adaptable it is. One gets the sense that it can be performed on just about any instrument capable of making jazz. The b section features enough variety to keep the song fresh. Just when the listener believes the work to be reaching the point of predictability, the main melody is shifted a bit. For the final run-through, Harris and his orchestra return to the familiar take on the main melody. It is in this act that the song offers a reassurance to the listener. It is a lively piece, but not jarring or challenging. It exudes joy. This joyful quality in the piece likely made it popular for listeners who needed a pick me up in the days of the Great Depression. The relative simplicity likely ensured it was easy for bandleaders to learn and then tweak.

Harris had music in his genes. His father was a  bandleader and taught Phil how to be a drummer. Drumming was Harris’ first gig, but he moved on to lead his own band. He would move on to be succesful in the other emerging forms of mass media, a film and radio regular. It is interesting, then, to listen to him take on a piece from the early years of the 20th Century, marrying it with the just in development big band structure.

Link to Song via YouTube: 12th Street Rag

Having previously tackled the instrumental side of things, its high time to examine the sultry vocals of Annette Hanshaw on this 1929 recording “What Wouldn’t I Do For That Man”. While many tracks prior and since speak of the suffering that love, or a lack thereof, can bestow, no such sentiment is present here. From the opening lines, the song makes clear that love has been nothing short of a revelation. So much so that the singer doesn’t mind being a “slave to one who means the world to me”. The male object of the song’s affection, as indicated in later lyrics, has indicated to the singer that he “can’t live without her” and allows her to rest her head upon his shoulder when she is weary. There is no suggestion, then, that this is some sort of fantastic, or one-sided love. By song’s close, even the more cynical listener could conclude that the song speaks of a mutually beneficial love.

In addition to the lyrical content, Hanshaw’s vocals go the distance in selling the song. Her quiet delivery suits the song well, and she still manages to project the emotion of devotion. When the song breaks away from the vocals, the instrumentals match Hanshaw’s gentle and seductive tone. There is remarkable discipline in the restraint here, and it makes for a relaxing track indeed.

Link to Track via Youtube