Victor 21831 – Eddie Cantor – 1928

Posted on January 31, 2016 by R. Connor Montgomery

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, 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, recorded December 18, 1928 by Eddie Cantor.

Victor 22298 – King Oliver and his Orchestra – 1930

Posted on January 28, 2016 by R. Connor Montgomery

...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, 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), recorded January 28, 1930 by King Oliver and his Orchestra.

Okeh 8511 – “Texas” Alexander – 1927

Posted on January 22, 2016 by R. Connor Montgomery

Going back now to the music of America’s roots, I offer a classic albeit worn blues record by great bluesman “Texas” Alexander.

Alger “Texas” Alexander was born in Jewett, Texas on September 12, 1900. Playing at functions in the Brazos River bottomlands of his home state, he sometimes worked with contemporary and fellow Texas blues musician Blind Lemon Jefferson. Alexander traveled to New York City to make his first recordings for Okeh Records in 1927, and made many further recordings back home in Texas. Unable to play any musical instrument, he was backed on his recordings by various sidemen and groups, including the Mississippi Sheiks for one session. Although Alexander has long been cited as serving five years in the penitentiary in Paris, Texas for the 1939 murder of his wife, modern research yields no evidence of that being true, as no records exist of Alexander serving, and in fact, no prison ever existed in Paris, Texas. More likely, Alexander served on a county work farm for publicly singing songs with lewd lyrics. Texas Alexander continued to record in the 1940s, and made his last recordings with Benton’s Busy Bees in 1953 before dying of syphilis the next year.

Okeh 8511 was recorded on August 11 and 12, 1927 and is “Texas” Alexander’s second issued record from his first recording session, and probably his best selling Okeh. Alexander is accompanied by the always excellent Lonnie Johnson on guitar. This record, as many, if not most of this type of record are, has seen better days and plays rough. Nevertheless, the music is still audible, albeit over heavy noise.

On the first side, Alexander moans his way through the classic “Long Lonesome Day Blues”.

Long Lonesome Day Blues, recorded August 11, 1927 by “Texas” Alexander.

“Corn-Bread Blues”, a little worse for wear, features that classic line, “they cook cornbread for their husband, and biscuits (or is it ‘brisket’?) for their man.”

Corn Bread Blues, recorded August 12, 1927 by “Texas” Alexander.

Updated with improved audio on July 1, 2017, and again on May 3, 2023.

A Crown Dance Band Double Feature – 3149 & 3281 – 1931/1932

Posted on January 21, 2016 by R. Connor Montgomery

This Dance Band Double Feature is dedicated to Smith Ballew, who was born on this day (January 21) in 1902. Under his frequently used pseudonym, Buddy Blue and his Texans, Ballew and his band play four classic songs of the early 1930s recorded on the Crown label.

Smith Ballew was born Sykes Ballew in Palestine, Texas on January 20, 1902. He had his education in Sherman, Texas before finishing college at the University of Texas in Austin. While at UT, Ballew played banjo in James Maloney’s band, called Jimmie’s Joys at the time. That band, with Ballew, made a few records in California for the Golden label in 1923. By the late 1920s, he was working as a studio vocalist in New York, working for a plethora of different bands and labels. After working steadily as a singer well into the 1930s, Smith turned to acting, appearing mostly in Westerns as a singing cowboy. After retiring from music in 1967, Ballew worked in the aircraft industry, eventually settling in Fort Worth. He died March 2, 1984 in Longview, Texas.

Crown 3149 was recorded in May of 1931. On the first side, Smith Ballew sings Harry Warren’s 1931 hit, the timeless “I Found a Million Dollar Baby (In a Five and Ten Cent Store)”.

I Found a Million Dollar Baby (In a Five and Ten Cent Store), recorded May 1931 by Buddy Blue and his Texans.

On the reverse, we hear “On the Beach With You”, this side claims to be a waltz, but it sounds more like a fox trot to my ear. The vocalist on this side is allegedly Charlie Lawman, but it sounds identical to Ballew’s vocal on the flip, and I believe it’s still him. On these 1931 recordings, the band retains much of a late 1920s sound with banjo rhythm and an accordion.

On the Beach With You, recorded May 1931 by Buddy Blue and his Texans.

The second disc, Crown 3281, was recorded in January of 1932. This record features two popular songs from Irving Berlin’s Face the Music. Both sides feature a vocal by Ballew. The band seems to have modernized significantly on these recordings, less than a year later, and may very well be an entirely different group. First up, it’s one of my personal favorites: “Let’s Have Another Cup o’ Coffee”.

Let’s Have Another Cup o’ Coffee, recorded January 1932 by Buddy Blue and his Texans.

On the flip, Ballew sings the charming “Soft Lights and Sweet Music”.

Soft Lights and Sweet Music, recorded January 1932 by Buddy Blue and his Texans.

Updated on April 28, 2018.

Columbia 1761-D – Harry Reser’s Syncopators – 1929

Posted on January 17, 2016 by R. Connor Montgomery

Today, January 17, we celebrate the 120th birthday of that great banjo luminary, Harry Reser. He was born on that day in 1896. Reser is known for his great multitude of recordings under an enormous number of names in the 1920s and 1930s, perhaps the most memorable of which were the Clicquot Club Eskimos, who took their name from the brand of ginger ale that sponsored a radio show featuring Reser’s band. Reser also recorded under many other band names, including the Clevelanders, the Six Jumping Jacks, and, as in this case, his Syncopators. Many of his groups featured vocals by Tom Stacks. Last time we heard from them was on Christmas Day.

Harry Reser was born in Piqua, Ohio, and was a first cousin of the Wright brothers. He was a child prodigy on string instruments and had perfect pitch. By the early 1920s, Reser was playing banjo professionally, and by the second half of that decade, he was headlining Clicquot Club’s radio program with his “Eskimos”, a position which he and his band held for over a decade, from 1923 until 1936. In 1936, he recorded a short film with the Eskimos for Vitaphone. Though Reser faded from the spotlight after the 1930s, he remained an active musician until his death in 1965 in the orchestra pit at the Imperial Theatre in Manhattan.

Columbia 1761-D was recorded March 7, 1929 in New York by Harry Reser’s Syncopators, with a vocal on both sides by Tom Stacks. Both sides also feature a riveting bass saxophone and all-around superb musicianship, making for an excellent pair of recordings. As far as I can tell from the nearly incomprehensible Dance Band Discography (this one really ought to have been in Jazz and Ragtime Records if you ask me), this personnel of Reser’s Syncopators includes Tommy Gott on trumpet, Sam Lewis on trombone, Larry Abbott on clarinet, alto sax, and baritone sax, Jimmy Johnston on bass sax, Bill Wirges on piano, Harry Reser on banjo and Tom Stacks on drums.

First, they play a great version of “Kansas City Kitty”, not to be confused with “Kitty from Kansas City”, as was featured by Rudy Vallée.