Victor 21831 – Eddie Cantor – 1928

The actual birth date of that great vaudevillian Eddie Cantor is not definitively known.  Although he is more or less known to have been born in 1892, some sources place his birth on January 31, and others sometime in September.  Since I don’t know his real birthday any more than any other living person, I’ll just have to post my tributes to ol’ Banjo Eyes on both occasions, starting now with one of his most famous songs.

Whenever he may have been born, Eddie Cantor grew up as Edward Israel “Izzy” Itzkowitz in New York City at the turn of the century.  After his parents died when he was a small child, the young Edward was raised by his dearly beloved grandmother, Esther Kantrowitz, from whom he got the name Cantor.  He started his career in show business in the late 1910s, and in 1917, Eddie Cantor signed a contract to appear in Flo Ziegfeld’s Follies, which thrust into fame, and made him into one of the only vaudevillians that could rival Al Jolson.  Throughout his career of more than fifty years, Cantor accomplished more than could fit on this page, including his well-remembered association with the March of Dimes, a name which he coined (pun intended) for the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis.  Cantor died October 10, 1964, two years after passing of his wife Ida.

Victor 21831 was recorded December 18, 1928 at New York City’s Liederkranz Hall by Eddie Cantor, accompanied by Nat Shilkret and the Victor Orchestra.  He sings two songs that he originally introduced in Ziegfeld’s musical Whoopee.

The first song on this disc is probably Cantor’s most famous song, Gus Kahn and Walter Donaldson’s “Makin’ Whoopee”.

Makin' Whoopee

Makin’ Whoopee, recorded December 18, 1928 by Eddie Cantor.

On the reverse, Cantor bemoans his woes of wooing the women on Jack Yellen and Milton Ager’s “Hungry Women”.

Hungry Women

Hungry Women, recorded December 18, 1928 by Eddie Cantor.

Brunswick 7062 – Kansas City Frank – 1929

For a portion of the 1930s and 1940s, the pianist on this pair of solos was mistakenly believed to be that of Jelly Roll Morton.  In actuality, it was a friend of Jelly Roll’s, Frank Melrose, a Chicago jazz and blues piano man.  Last time we here heard from Frank, he was tearing it up with E.C. Cobb and his Corn-Eaters on Victor.

Franklyn Taft Melrose, the second youngest of the Melrose siblings that included the music publishers (and part-time shysters) Walter and Lester, was born November 26, 1907 in Sumner, Illinois.  As a teenager, Frank left home and drifted to Missouri, where he took up in St. Louis, and later Kansas City.  An admirer of Jelly Roll Morton, through his brothers’ business Frank was able to meet his idol, and the two reportedly befriended each other and played together on occasion.  Melrose recorded sporadically in the 1920s and 1930s, making solo records for Brunswick, Gennett, and Paramount, and with bands such as the Kansas City Tin Roof Stompers, the Beale Street Washboard band, and Wingy Manone’s Cellar Boys, frequently a part of racially integrated groups.  On Labor Day of 1941, Frank was found dead on a Chicago street corner, cause uncertain, with his face beat up beyond recognition.  His last words were reported as “Bud Jacobson”, with whom he made his last recordings, earlier that year.

Brunswick 7062, part of the 7000 race record series, easily recognizable by their distinctive lightning bolt styled labels (not to mention the record number), was recorded March 8, 1929 in Chicago, Illinois, by Frank Melrose on piano, using the nom de disque “Kansas City Frank”.  Frank had recorded these two of his own compositions a month earlier in Richmond, Indiana for Gennett.  According to Brian Rust, the drummer was Tommy Taylor, who had previously accompanied Melrose on his Gennett session of the same tunes.  The 78 Quarterly estimates “less than 20” copies of this record, though the accuracy of that claim is dubious.

The famous cartoonist and record collector R. Crumb made a comic, published in 1979’s Best Buy Comics about Melrose named after “Pass the Jug”, which Frank plays on this record.  If you listen real closely to the brief drum solo at at one minute, fifty-five seconds, you can hear a whistle in the background that sounds like a bird chirping.

Pass the Jug, recorded

Pass the Jug, recorded March 8, 1929 by Kansas City Frank.

Presumably composed as a tribute to his friend and idol, Jelly Roll Morton, on the flip-side, Frank plays “Jelly Roll Stomp”.  I’m not sure whether you could technically call this boogie woogie or not, but it’s not far off.

Jelly Roll Stomp, recorded

Jelly Roll Stomp, recorded March 8, 1929 by Kansas City Frank.

Updated on June 24, 2016.

Victor 22298 – King Oliver and his Orchestra – 1930

...hang a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain, the the boys'll know I died standing pat...

…put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain, so the boys’ll know I died standing pat… (Illustration from 1930 Victor catalog.)

“Here’s a treat!  Hot playing, hot singing, and rhythm that will make you squirm when you hear it,” is what Victor said of this record in their April 1930 supplemental catalog, “It’s one of the meanest, hottest, most irresistible dance records ever.  It’s the kind that breaks down all inhibitions!”  This was actually the first King Oliver record I ever owned.  I got it by accidentally bidding more than I’d intended to in an online auction.  In spite of that, I was thrilled to have such a great record in my clutches, and I still get a thrill thinking of this outstanding hot jazz record.  Since it was my first, I think it’s fair for it to be the first King Oliver record uploaded here.

By this late time in his career, King Joe was suffering from gum disease, and took far fewer solos on his trumpet than he did in years prior, and did not play on many of his Victor recordings at all.  On this one however, Oliver does in fact play, though not a whole lot.

Victor 22298 was recorded January 28, 1930 at 28 West 44th Street in New York by King Oliver and his Orchestra.  There seems to be some confusion as to the personnel, it features either Bubber Miley and Henry “Red” Allen, Jr. or Dave Nelson and Oliver on trumpet, Jimmy Archey on trombone, Bobby Holmes on clarinet and soprano sax, Glyn Paque and possibly Hilton Jefferson on clarinet and alto sax, Walter Wheeler on tenor sax, Carroll Dickerson on violin, Arthur Taylor on banjo, Jean Stultz on guitar, Clinton Walker on tuba, Don Frye or Hank Duncan on piano, and possibly Fred Moore on drums.  Dickerson directed this session under Oliver’s name.  Studio vocalist and occasional Jimmie Rodgers imitator Frankie Marvin provides the vocals.  If anyone out there could tell me which personnel is definitively correct, I’d be much appreciative.

Of the first track, the Victor catalog says, “the ‘St. James Infirmary’ has created a sensation among dance enthusiasts.  This record by King Oliver has capped the climax,” later continuing, “the song is taken from the old-time ‘Gambler’s Blues’.”  Old time blues, they say, can’t say I have any complaints about that!  While I couldn’t say for sure, many of the trumpet solos in this one do sound a lot like Bubber Miley’s style.

St. James Infirmary

St. James Infirmary, recorded January 28, 1930 by King Oliver and his Orchestra.

“King Oliver’s second number is a fox trot, ‘When You’re Smiling’.  [This record] should be under your arm, carefully wrapped, the next time you come from a shopping excursion… And after that, you’ll have many moments in which to praise your buying instinct!”  If you hadn’t guessed, that’s how Victor finished their marketing ploy for this record.  Can’t say I really disagree with them, but thanks to Old Time Blues, you won’t have to wait ’till your next shopping trip in 1930 to hear it!

When You're Smiling (The Whole World Smiles With You)

When You’re Smiling (The Whole World Smiles With You), recorded January 28, 1930 by King Oliver and his Orchestra.

Sunset 1136 – Carlyle Stevenson’s El Patio Orchestra – 1925

Please note: this article dates to Old Time Blues’ first year and does not meet the standard of quality to which more recent postings are held.  Thank you for your understanding.

Today, I offer for your listening pleasure the sounds of mid-1920s, as played by this regional dance band from Los Angeles, California.  The somewhat seldom seen Sunset label was made in California in the mid-1920s, as early as 1923 to about 1926, and features an attractive illustration of the Western landscape.  Among other interesting content, such as the record featured here, Sunset recorded a young Morey Amsterdam in pair of songs with ukulele.

Sunset 1136 was recorded in July of 1925 by Carlyle Stevenson’s El Patio Orchestra in Los Angeles, California.  The Red Hot Jazz Archive lists the personnel as Ralph Marky and Leslie Moe on trumpets, Doc Garrison and Harley Luse on trombones, Leslie Lyman and Harry Vaile on clarinet, alto sax, and tenor sax, leader Carlyle Stevenson on alto sax, Bob Sawyer on piano (who later went on to lead an outstanding jazz band), Carol McManus on banjo, Oscar Martin on brass bass, and Buddy Johnson on drums.  According to that listing, the vocalist would be either Carl Edwards or Walter Dupre.  However, I can’t guarantee that any or all of those musicians played on these recordings.  Leader Carlyle Stevenson recorded previously with Jan Garber’s orchestra.

First up, the band plays a fine version of the big hit of 1925, “Sleepy Time Gal”.

Sleepy Time Gal

Sleepy Time Gal, recorded July 1925 by Carlyle Stevenson’s El Patio Orchestra.

Next, keeping in a similar theme, they play “Lonesomest Gal in Town”.

Lonesomest Gal in Town

Lonesomest Gal in Town, recorded July 1925 by Carlyle Stevenson’s El Patio Orchestra.

Champion 16212 – Cliff Carlisle – 1931

Please note: this article dates to Old Time Blues’ first year and does not meet the standard of quality to which more recent postings are held.  Thank you for your understanding.

Cliff Carlisle was born in Taylorsville, Kentucky in 1903 one of quite a number of singers that started out as something of a copyist of Jimmie Rodgers, and in fact recorded with him on steel guitar in one 1931 session.  He started out recording in 1930 with guitarist and vocalist Wilber Ball for the Starr Piano Company (Gennett) in Richmond, Indiana.  After Ball left the act in 1934, Cliff began playing with his younger brother Bill Carlisle, who eventually eclipsed Cliff in popularity.  The two brothers continued recording, both together and separately, well into the 1950s, when Cliff retired.  Cliff Carlisle died in 1983 in Lexington, Kentucky.

Champion 16212 was recorded February 13, 1931 in Richmond, Indiana, and features Wilber Ball on second guitar.  According to the sales figures presented by the Old Time Herald, this record sold 1,461 copies, not a whole lot by any means, but a pretty decent seller by 1931 Champion standards.

One of Cliff’s standards, which he recorded on more than one occasion (this one being the first), “The Brakeman’s Reply” has quite a twist ending; you’ll have to listen…

TheBrakemansReply

The Brakeman’s Reply, recorded February 13, 1931 by Cliff Carlisle.

“Box Car Blues” is a perfect example of the kind of rip-roaring steel guitar and hollering yodeling at which Cliff Carlisle so excelled.  Just listen to that guitar!

Box Car Blues, recorded February 13, 1931 by Cliff Carlisle.

Box Car Blues, recorded February 13, 1931 by Cliff Carlisle.