Turner’s turn in the spotlight

Posted on November 15, 2024 by Nathan Moon

Turner Layton was an American composer and pianist that was a part of Layton and Johnstone, a duo that had immense popularity in Europe in the 1920s and 30s. Before his transition to a performer overseas, he was a composer for several years in New York, often working with Henry Creamer for lyrics. One of their more notable compositions was “After you’ve gone”, with several recordings by big names, including Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, and Bing Crosby. One of the original 1918 recordings with Marion Harris is below.

Even with the most popular performers recording his compositions and tens of millions of records sold of his own performances, Layton is a fairly unknown name in that era of music (I had not heard of him until this post). Part of that may be his location; after Layton and Johnstone ended their professional relationship in 1935, Layton stayed in Europe the rest of his life, where he continued to find solo success until his retirement in 1946.

My biggest question is why he has continued to stay out of the figurative spotlight. There are still notable recordings of his songs being made today, such as “After you’ve gone” appearing on Hugh Laurie’s 2011 album “Let Them Talk”. Even while overseas, Layton obviously still had an effect on the American music scene, but seems to have lost the notoriety that some of his peers have maintained or even gained. A question lost to time is how different American music would have been if he had found greater success here than across the pond, and stayed in the front of American musical tastes.

Bourdon, R., Harris, M., Creamer, H. & Layton, T. (1918) After You’ve Gone
. [Audio] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-313413/.

The Problematic History of Ragtime

Posted on October 23, 2024 by Abby Carter

In the early 20th century, an average citizen may have looked at the ragtime song titled “That dixie rag” and would have thought something along the lines of “popular music” or “dance music.” They would have not been thinking about the long, difficult, racist history that is involved in not only the title of the song, but also the style in which the song is composed and the lyrics housed within.

“That dixie rag” is a piano and voice sheet music score, published in 1911.¹ In the first verse, the singer invites the audience to dance to a song that is played “way down South” that makes you “want to jag,” or dance in a jerky manner.⁵ The second verse tells the story of an African American man who traveled from Fort Worth to the northern states of America and taught an audience of northerners this ragtime song. The narrator refers to the African American man by using the derogatory word “coon” throughout.

There are many things to uncover with this song. First, the word “dixie” is used to describe the southern states of the USA throughout the song. The word in particular has very negative and controversial connotations tracing back to the Civil War. The origins of the word are debated, but the song “Dixie,” composed by Daniel Decatur Emmett, popularized it in 1859. The song was considered the Confederate anthem, and was originally premiered in a minstrel show.² In my last blog post about minstrelsy, I explained how the problematic minstrelsy tradition was “baked into the pie” of American culture.⁶ This is another great example of this, with a word referring to a problematic past being commonplace throughout.

Second, the musical genre of ragtime (or rag) is also intertwined with a difficult and racist past. Ragtime is defined as “a syncopated musical style, one forerunner of jazz, a predominant style of American popular music from about 1899-1917.”³ The songs were influenced by and developed within minstrelsy, especially the characteristic syncopation which was influenced by the conception that syncopation was a trait of African American music.³ Many types of popular songs during the ragtime era were referred to as “coon songs,” which are racially denigrating songs that were meant to make fun of the typical African American speech, typing black people as foolish, thieves, highly sexted, and violent.⁴ However, a surprising thing about these songs is that many African American composers partook in the writing of these songs, saying that they were reclaiming their racial identity.⁴ Despite its reputation, the coon song was responsible for advancing the careers of many black entertainers and songwriters and paved the way for later popular black music genres, particularly the blues. Between 1905 and 1910, ragtime songs gradually lost their exclusively racial character, and any American song with a strongly rhythmic nature was given the description “ragtime.”³ Ragtime has had its fair share of revivals in the 1950’s and 1960’s, and is even studied in many academic settings now. However, many have lost the origins of minstrelsy and racism it arose from.

Overall, many people are unaware of the complex, racially insensitive history behind the genre of ragtime, as well as how it evolved and was influenced through minstrelsy. “That dixie rag” is a great example of many problematic elements that were overlooked at the time, and how it can be uncovered today.

WORKS CITED

1. O’Keefe, Edward M., Melcher, Charles L. That dixie rag. Fred G. Heberlein & Co., 1911. https://webapp1.dlib.indiana.edu/metsnav/inharmony/navigate.do?oid=https://fedora.dlib.indiana.edu/fedora/get/iudl:344388/METADATA&pn=2&size=screen

2. “Dixie,” Britannica Academic. https://academic-eb-com.ezproxy.stolaf.edu/levels/collegiate/article/Dixie/30701

3. “Ragtime” Oxford Music Online. https://www-oxfordmusiconline-com.ezproxy.stolaf.edu/grovemusic/display/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-1002252241#omo-9781561592630-e-1002252241

4. Neal, Brandi A. “Coon song.” Grove Music Online. 16 Oct. 2013; Accessed 22 Oct. 2024. https://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-1002249084.

5. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/jag

6. https://pages.stolaf.edu/americanmusic/2024/10/10/minstrelsy-in-the-usa/

Bias in the Music Industry

Posted on October 10, 2024 by Maggie Shepphird

Black Americans have produced some of the most prolific and influential styles and genres as music, as well as some of the most influential songs. However, unfortunately for many years they were not able to receive any sort of credit or royalties from their music for many many years. The main reason they weren’t able to reach the level of fame that the white American musicians had at the time was mainly because of segregation present in the music industry, especially the recording industry. In the 1880s and beyond, musicians gained revenue from their works in two ways: through selling sheet music and through selling recordings. Black Americans were not able to access either of these things at the time.

In 1914, the American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers founded in hopes of preventing copyright. Black Americans unfortunately were very poorly represented in this committee despite being the population that suffered the most from stolen and copyrighted works. Within 170 members of the committee, only 6 were black. However, another issue in printed music was people had to have experience in reading music, most of them from the time they were little, to be able to be musically literate. However, these learning experiences were often times not offered to Black Americans growing up because of the schools being segregated and the lack of music education offered. Therefore, there were many Black Americans who had an extraordinary amount of talent but were not given the privilege of music education, so despite their works being very good, weren’t able to receive profit from the printed music industry. However, there were some exceptions. A white music publisher named John Stillwell Stark created a publishing deal with Scott Joplin who was a Black American composer, known for his ragtime compositions. This publishing deal was very successful which highlights the competency of Black American musicians, as well as how sad it is that so many talented musicians were not given these opportunities.

In the recording industry, very few Black American musicians were given the chance to record their songs because of bias from producers and talent agents. Although there were some exceptions, such as George Washington Johnson and Arthur Seals, many talented musicians were overlooked and not given the opportunity to gain success from their music. Instead, many white musicians stole songs written by black musicians and recorded them to gain profit. The style of blues, although created by Black Americans, was recorded on records most of the time by white musicians imitating, or appropriating the style. There were so many talented Black Americans who did not get any recognition, while many white people did. One example of this is Elvis Presley. Although Elvis Presley is extremely talented and good at what he does, a lot of his success he attained while getting ideas from talented black musicians, who didn’t receive even a quarter of the success that he did. Therefore many Black Americans were overlooked while Elvis Presley became one of the most famous rock musicians of all time.

This highlights the lack of rights Black Americans had and is very sad. It also highlights the work that still must be done to give Black Americans equal rights and an equal chance at success. As Americans, we must do better to create a safer and more equal future for those here and those to come.

https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/edit/10.4324/9781315472096-14/industrializing-african-american-popular-music-reebee-garofalo?context=ubx&refId=1f34259a-ab47-4287-8930-894d87ce57cb

Maultsby, Portia K., and Mellonee V. (Mellonee Victoria) Burnim, editors. Issues in African American Music : Power, Gender, Race, Representation. Routledge, 2017.

Blues and Jazz: Popular Music or Folk Music?

Posted on November 7, 2023 by Connor Bitterman

““It ain’t what it was,” the old folks say, but New Orleans jazz is still better and more boisterous than you get served and verve up to you anywhere else.”

As early as the pre-civil war days, New Orleans residents played jazz and the blues. One big contribution to this celebration of music occurred when a group called the Carpetbaggers came to town. “They were hated by the local French whites, but loved by the local jazz players because they kind of “went for” the music. Word spread about the amazing, unique sounds of the Carpetbaggers all along the Mississippi River. As time passed, and music spread further, a business-man from out of New York City came along and signed the Carpetbaggers to a contract, spreading the blues from beyond the South. And the rest is history.¹

New Orleans Blues and Jazz Band (Buddy Bolden’s, back row, center left, Band), 1905⁶

The Mississippi River played a massive role in continuing the Black American tradition of jazz and blues music. “The famous U.S. Highway 61, known as the “blues highway” rivals Route 66 as the most famous road in American music lore. Dozens of blues artists have recorded about Highway 61.” A popular theme of these songs include the “pack up and go” mindset: leave troubles behind to seek out new opportunities, which is what many musicians decided to do. The original road traveled through and/or near cities such as Baton Rouge, Cleveland, Memphis, St. Louis, and Chicago to name a few. What do these cities have in common? They all continued to spread the love of blues and jazz music.² Music in California, Chicago, and New York, were leading contributions to the birthplace of big time band leading, where larger ensembles with more orchestration began to grow.³

As jazz and blues music grew nationwide, the question at hand was if the spread of music was in honor of the tradition, or if the spread of music was in hopes to gain popularity both in the style and its musicians, further classifying this music as “popular music.” Bruce Jackson explains The American Folksong Revival in Jeff Todd Titon’s “Reconstructing the Blues: Reflections on the 1960s Blues Revival (Page 73): “Many writers and festival fans claimed the revival provided an opportunity for millions of modern Americans to better understand their country’s musical roots, as well as an opportunity to honor the musicians who still represented those traditions. Others–often disparagingly referred to as “purists” –were certain the revival and its attendant commercialism would provide the death stroke for whatever fragile rural and ethnic traditions still survived.”⁴

We, as musicians, can identify that most, if not all, different styles of blues music continued the legacy of its origins in two ways: (1) with the ever-present “blues scale” and (2) with the form, commonly referred to as the “12 bar blues.”

However, “Once Southern migrants introduced the blues to urban Northern cities, the music developed into distinctive regional styles, ranging from the jazz-oriented Kansas City blues to the swing-based West Coast blues. Chicago blues musicians such as Muddy Waters were the first to electrify the blues through the use of electric guitars and to blend urban style with classic Southern blues.”⁵

Even though these cities were introducing new populations to the origins of jazz and blues music, by the time these tunes were heard by audiences, they were drastically different from when they arrived. Another realization that I had when researching this topic was the fact that many blues composers would create their own melodies with the 12 bar blues form, but then would simply slap a location in the title, followed by blues, and call it good. New York City Blues, West End Blues, West Coast Blues, Statesboro Blues, Chicago Blues, St. Louis Blues, to name a few. Now where these titles meant to convey symbolic meaning by the composer? Or were these titles labeled to further gain popularity by the jazz and blues listeners of these respective locations? This isn’t a question that I can necessarily answer, but it brings up a great point: As we listen or play music such as the blues, are we interacting with the intent of acknowledging the history and origin, or are we interacting because it is catchy or popular? Is blues and jazz music considered folk music or popular music? Both of these questions don’t have right or wrong answers, nor do they have only one explanation. They do, however, require perspective when being placed in these conversations, and perspective requires more focus on the intention when engaging with these music styles.

1 Battelle, Phyllis. “How Jazz Music Migrated North and Captured Broadway’s Fancy: Oldtimer Tells ‘Woes’ of Men Who Pioneered.” Daily Defender (Daily Edition) (1956-1960), May 21, 1957, https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/how-jazz-music-migrated-north-captured-broadways/docview/493656959/se-2 (accessed November 7, 2023).

2 “Highway 61 Blues.” The Mississippi Blues Trail, September 5, 2022. https://msbluestrail.org/blues-trail-markers/highway-61-north#:~:text=Some%20suggested%20that%20the%20road,journeys%20by%20continuing%20from%20St.

3 Roy, Rob. “Old Tymer Discovers Bop and Jazz Rooted at Base of Current ‘Raves’: Dixie Artists Hit N. Y. and Chicago Combining Styles.” The Chicago Defender (National Edition) (1921-1967), Jun 11, 1955, https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/old-tymer-discovers-bop-jazz-rooted-at-base/docview/492899440/se-2 (accessed November 7, 2023).

4 Rosenberg, Neil V. “The Folksong Revival: Bruce Jackson.” Essay. In Transforming Tradition: Folk Music Revivals Examined. Urbana u.a.: Univ. of Illinois Press, 1993.

5 [Author removed at request of original publisher]. “6.2 the Evolution of Popular Music.” Understanding Media and Culture, March 22, 2016. https://open.lib.umn.edu/mediaandculture/chapter/6-2-the-evolution-of-popular-music/.

6 “A New Orleans Jazz History, 1895-1927.” National Parks Service. Accessed November 7, 2023. https://www.nps.gov/jazz/learn/historyculture/jazz_history.htm.

W.C. Handy, Father of Blues

Posted on November 6, 2023 by Katya Jarmulowicz

The Chicago Defender, established in 1905 by Robert Abbot, is celebrated as one of the most influential Black newspapers.¹ An article written by Diana Briggs and published in the Defender on August 16, 1941 features Wyatt Christopher, or W.C. Handy. Handy played a significant role in the popularization of the blues in the early 20th century.² In the concise article, Briggs hails him as the “Father of the Blues,” and tells of his visit to the Good Shepherd Community Center.³

W.C. Handy at the Good Shepherd Community Center⁷

The article tells of Handy’s relationship with the blues and opinions on other related genres, such as Swing.⁴Briggs openly presents Handy’s strong, uncompromising stance on the Swing style. Handy categorizes Swing as a “prostituted melody of the blues,” used for the purposes of economic piracy on the behalf of whites who profit off of it.⁵Handy describes Swing in an extremely decisive manner, calling it an aborted form of blues.⁶

When considering Handy’s career as a musician, composer, and bandleader, his almost graphic portrayal of swing seems entirely appropriate. Handy’s take on Swing relates to the greater, “message for his race” that Briggs notes throughout the article.⁸The information surrounding Handy’s protective attitude towards blues in this article complements his career, which he spent, “making the blues a consciously composed art,” and bringing Black music into the mainstream of public culture.⁹As a pioneering artist of the genre who believed that blues, “shall help [the] Negro in the fight for equal rights,” W.C. Handy’s unwavering take on both the importance of blues and the problems of Swing become unquestionable.¹⁰

1 Pride, Karen E. “Chicago Defender Celebrates 100 Years in Business.” Chicago Defender, May 5, 2005. https://web.archive.org/web/20051201092230/http://www.chicagodefender.com/page/local.cfm?ArticleID=687.

2 Evans, Dylan. “Handy, W(illiam) C(hristopher).” Grove Music Online, January 20, 2001. https://doi.org/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.article.12322.

3 Briggs, Diana. “Chicago Hails W. C. Handy, Father of the Blues: Father of Blues Greets Chicago with Message for Race and Music FATHER OF THE BLUES.” The Chicago Defender (National Edition) (1921-1967), Aug 16, 1941. https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/chicago-hails-w-c-handy-father-blues/docview/492581628/se-2.

4 Ibid.

5 Ibid.

6 Ibid.

7 Ibid.

8 Ibid.

9 Robertson, David. W. C. Handy : The Life and Times of the Man Who Made the Blues. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2011. Accessed November 6, 2023. ProQuest Ebook Central.

10 Ibid.

The Origins of Soul Music

Posted on October 3, 2023 by Carter Allen-Weyenberg

Getty Image. 1901. Photo of Margaret Murray Washington.

Black woman Margaret Murray Washington gave an address during the Louisiana Purchase exhibition, titled “The Songs of Our Fathers.” In this address, she demarcates soul music as “words and music voiced together with the deepest feelings.”¹This was in 1905, during a time when hearing the words of a black woman was not extremely common, even the article was stated to be written by ‘Mrs. Booker T. Washington is a white soldier. This was the earliest definition of soul music that I could find, from an African American source.

Soul music is an African-American genre established in the 1960s.³ It’s a fusion between Gospel, Jazz, Rhythm, and Blues. Many different singers across the genre attempt to achieve a spiritual ascendance. Big names like Ray Charles, Etta James, and Sam Cooke spearheaded the genre. Billboard topper “A Sunday Kind of Love”⁴ by Etta James, to me, represents the spirituality that soul music represents. Typical Christian denominations, that James subscribed to meet on Sunday. In the song she sings of wanting to meet a lover on Sunday, to keep her warm throughout the week. In my opinion, she’s talking about God here. Someone that you’re closest to on Sunday. Take a listen to the song below.

In the latter half of the 1960’s you can hear a marked difference in Soul music. The influence of gospel increased, but the influence of the blues fell. You hear a more distinctive Southern style; it becomes more rugged and less polished. As you hear in the recording by Etta James, it’s almost an aria sung by her while backed by a rhythm section. In this recording by James Brown “Out of Sight”⁵ you can hear a very large difference in how the two songs sound. This difference in sound is defined as “Mowtown.” The latter better signifies the soul scene in the 1970’s.

Although Soul Music is a relatively new genre, I have a feeling that it’s going to stay. We’ve got popular black artists pioneering the genre. Artists like Lauryn Hill and Mary J Blige are bringing it into pop culture. We’re getting gospel style music with secular lyrics. We see it all over the country too, places like New York, Chicago, and New Orleans are the first places that come to mind.

1 “The Songs of Our Fathers. An Address Delivered on Fisk Day during the Louisiana Purchase Exhibition.” <em>Plaindealer</em> (Topeka, Kansas) VII, no. 20, May 19, 1905: [3]. <em>Readex: African American Newspapers</em>. https://infoweb.newsbank.com/apps/readex/doc?p=EANAAA&docref=image/v2%3A12A7EF1A4AC47F2D%40EANAAA-12C8B913302F6748%402416985-12C8B9134BFB71A0%402-12C8B913A0F80C58%40The%2BSongs%2Bof%2BOur%2BFathers.%2BAn%2BAddress%2BDelivered%2Bon%2BFisk%2BDay%2Bduring%2Bthe%2BLouisiana%2BPurchase%2BExhibition.

2 Hampton, Riley. 2000. The Chess BoxGeffen. https://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/bibliographic_entity%7Crecorded_cd%7C714506.

3 Brackett, David. “Soul music.” Grove Music Online. 31 Jan. 2014; Accessed 3 Oct. 2023. https://www-oxfordmusiconline com.ezproxy.stolaf.edu/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-1002257344.

4James, Etta. 1960. “Etta James – a Sunday Kind of Love.” Genius.com. 1960. https://genius.com/Etta-james-a-sunday-kind-of-love-lyrics.

5Lowe, Sammy. 2007. GoldPolydor. https://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/bibliographic_entity%7Crecorded_cd%7C694897.

Bessie Smith’s “Chicago Bound Blues,” the Chicago Defender, and the Great Migration

Posted on September 28, 2023 by Mariana Rogan

Although usually not properly credited, women have always made music, from nuns composing hymns to today’s pop icons. Blues music is no exception. Bessie Smith recorded the first ever commercial blues records in 1922, and her sales success set up that decade to be one where women dominated the genre.¹ She was one of the most successful Black performing artists of her day,² and her success marks the beginning of the genre of “race records” marketed to the African-American audience by early recording companies. Six years previous to Bessie’s first recording session, the Chicago Defender (a major Black newspaper) had begun a campaign for major record companies to record Black artists. Once the genre had taken off commercially, the paper began to feature ads for these records, including over a hundred ads for Bessie Smith’s music alone.³

Portrait of Bessie Smith by Carl Van Vechten

The emergence of blues as a commercial music genre in the 1920s happened to coincide with the Great Migration, where thousands of Black Americans left the South to move to northern cities in search of jobs, motivated by the false promise that Northerners would be less racist. This became a predominant theme in the blues music the Defender advertised, including Smith’s music. Smith was extremely critical of the Migration in her music, which makes the paper’s fervent support for her a bit odd, since the Defender’s founder actively promoted the Great Migration.⁴ Mark K. Dolan argues that these ads for blues music about life “down home” in the South is the paper’s invitation for Black Americans in the North to participate in the cultural memory of the violence and pain that these songs express, and as the Migration revealed itself to be an empty promise, they became a source of shared nostalgia.

Smith’s critical perspective can be seen in the song “Chicago Bound Blues” from 1923, recorded in the same year by Ida Cox. In this song he sings about her man leaving to find a job in Chicago, leaving her behind:

“Mean old fireman, cruel engineer
Mean old fireman, cruel engineer
You took my man away and left his mama standing here.”⁵

In the final verse, she nails home the immense pain that the Great Migration has caused her by separating her from her man: “Red headline in tomorrow’s Defender news…’Woman dead down home with the Chicago Blues.’” Smith even directly references the Defender in her criticism of the Migration.⁶

Yet, the newspaper’s ads imposed an imagined, romanticized South as the setting for all of these songs, positing it as something far away and imagined, nostalgic and yearned for, and yet still a site that is predominantly characterized by the pain and tragic themes expressed in blues music.⁷

Eventually, the Defender realizes the potential for the romanticization of a “lonely wayfarer” character in the Delta blues performed by Black men, and the ads for male singers’ music soon overwhelm those for female performers. The political and sexual agency found in blueswomen’s music is silenced before it even has a chance to be properly heard.

1 McGuire, Phillip. “Black Music Critics and the Classic Blues Singers.” The Black Perspective in Music 14, no. 2 (1986): 103. https://doi.org/10.2307/1214982.

2 Meckna, Michael. “Smith, Bessie.” Grove Music Online, May 24, 2022. https://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/display/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-90000315175.

3 Dolan, Mark K. “Extra! Chicago Defender Race Records Ads Show South from Afar.” Southern Cultures 13, no. 3 (2007): 107.

4 Dolan, 107.

5 Genius. “Chicago Bound Blues (Famous Migration Blues).” Accessed September 28, 2023. https://genius.com/Ida-cox-chicago-bound-blues-famous-migration-blues-lyrics.

6 Ibid.

7 Dolan, 110.

There’s “whiteness” in Bluegrass?

Posted on September 27, 2023 by Leigha Daniels

It is interesting that when a majority of us think of Bluegrass music, we immediately think of it being white music, from the south, and “hillbilly.” After listening to and reading the transcript from Rhiannon Giddens’ keynote address, I found that she also had the idea that there is “whiteness” in Bluegrass (specifically the banjo), although she doesn’t use the term “whiteness,” the picture that was portrayed to her was that Bluegrass originated from white people in and around the south.

An important quote from Rhiannon Giddens

“This was not the picture I was painted as a child! I grew up thinking the banjo was invented in the mountains, that string band music and square dances were a strictly white preserve and history – that while black folk were singing spirituals and playing the blues, white folk were do-si-do-ing and fiddling up a storm – and never the twain did meet – which led me to feeling like an alien in what I find out is my own cultural tradition.”¹

We should take note of the origins of Bluegrass. Where did it originate? Who was playing where? These are questions that most of us think we know the answer to but are in fact actually quite wrong. Bluegrass has origins that date back to as early as 1780 in Greenville, South Carolina. A majority of this music had a widespread diaspora throughout Southern Appalachia, the most notable state would be Kentucky, where the Blue Grass Boys band originated.These answers show that Bluegrass was coined by white people and that it has white origins. From listening to Giddens’ keynote address, we find these answers to be untrue.²

Another quote from Giddens

“But the black to white transmission of the banjo wasn’t confined to the blackface performance. In countless areas of the south, usually the poorer ones not organized around plantation life, working-class whites and blacks lived near each other; and, while they may have not have been marrying each other, they were quietly creating a new, common music.”¹

Bluegrass music can’t be white. Although the media would say otherwise, Bluegrass music has origins from all throughout Southern Appalachia, whether it be from white people or not. White men used what they heard from African Americans and put their label on it, claiming it as their own. In other words, it’s okay when white people sing and play African American “blues” or “bluegrass” because it is entertaining but when African Americans are the ones performing, it is considered as “lazy,” used as “complaining” songs, and simply not good.³

Here’s an interesting vinyl cover I found: ⁴

1Povelones, Robert. “Rhiannon Giddens Keynote Address – IBMA Business Conference 2017.” IBMA, April 26, 2021. https://ibma.org/rhiannon-giddens-keynote-address-2017/.

2 Gail Wilson-Giarratano, Pat Ahrens, and Larry Klein. Carolina Bluegrass. The History Press, 2015.

3Rosenberg, Neil V. Introduction. In Bluegrass: A History. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2005.

4Williams, Ernest S. Blue Grass Rag. Ernest S. Williams, Boston, 1909. Notated Music. https://www.loc.gov/item/ihas.100003940

Blame It On The Blues

Posted on October 25, 2021 by Dayo Ogunmodede

Blame It On The Blues is a 1914 jazz/blues/stomp song by Chas. L Cooke. It is written in the key of G in simple duple time. The beginning of the piece starts off with a sequence that repeats three times, each time down an octave. The right hand retains the melody throughout the entire piece and the left hand plays an eighth note pattern that alternates from being on the beat to being syncopated. The right hand is mainly syncopated. Like many blues pieces, there are many accidentals scattered throughout the whole song. The song itself is only about three pages long, but with its many repeats, it becomes around six pages. Just by looking at it and doing a quick musical analysis of the piece, you can tell it’s jazz/blues. When you listen to it, you can feel its syncopation and it definitely sounds very repetitive, almost cyclical. When I had this thought about the piece being “cyclical” I hadn’t even realized what the image on the title page was. It is a man and woman, drawn in black and white, sitting in a coil which looks like circles going up and up. Listening to the piece also makes me feel cartoonishly upbeat and active, like I want to complete a task. I think this is because jazzy, old-timey music such as this piece is used in soundtracks for silent films. In those films, the characters/people are moving around very quickly (due to the way it was animated) doing mundane or silly activities. Still, I couldn’t help but listen to it multiple times. I started this post in a very serious and focused mood but I couldn’t help but go down a rabbit hole of popular jazz/blues tunes of the early twentieth century. I guess you might say I could “blame it on the blues”.

http://webapp1.dlib.indiana.edu/metsnav/inharmony/navigate.do?oid=http://fedora.dlib.indiana.edu/fedora/get/iudl:339801/METADATA&pn=2&size=screen

“The Memphis Blues” Becomes The Memphis Joke

Posted on October 23, 2021 by Abigail Davis

While I was looking through Sheet Music Consortium to determine my topic for this blog post, I decided I wanted to talk about representations of my hometown, Memphis, TN, and the perfect piece came up to do just that: “The Memphis Blues” by W.C. Handy.

“The Memphis Blues” originated as an instrumental piece¹. This is important. Lyrics can totally change the impact of a song, especially if the lyrics do not match the initial message, or “vibe”, if you will, that the instrumental version conveyed. To demonstrate this, I decided to do a little experiment. I passed my headphones to a friend this weekend and asked him to tell me what thoughts and images came to mind as he listened to this instrumental version of the piece². I made sure that he had not heard it before and that he did not know the name.

Unprompted, he said, “I feel like I’m walking down the street in a city, like a southern city, maybe Tennessee vibes… Oh, now I’m in a restaurant, like a barbecue restaurant, about to devour some ribs.” WOAH!!! That’s Memphis! (Granted, I think Memphis barbecue started closer to the mid-late 20th century, but still.) I said, “Wait, I didn’t accidentally say the name of the piece, did I? It’s called ‘The Memphis Blues’.” He affirmed that I hadn’t told him the title.

I then asked him to listen to a 1915 recording³with lyrics by George A Norton, a white, non-Memphian, although, again, I said nothing about the version before passing the headphones.

He said that this version had a very different feel, and reminded him of New York, appropriated, white ragtime. Interesting. “The Memphis Blues” no longer seemed to reflect Memphis in the way that the original instrumental version did, but the lyricised version is what became popular.

So how and why did a white, non-Memphian’s lyricised version of a Black Memphian’s instrumental song about Memphis become more popular? It all began when Handy sold the song to the music publisher Theron Bennett (Handy later said that he felt he was cheated out of the rights to his song)⁴. Then, Bennett hired George A Norton to write the lyrics. Why? I believe Bennett was aware of the lucrative nature of minstrelsy, and knew that adding lyrics would help turn “The Memphis Blues” into a minstrel song. If you read the lyrics, you’ll notice there is lots of dialect, as well as commentary about the accepted musical roles for white people versus black people in the lyrics. Once the lyrics were written, Bennett convinced The Honey Boy Minstrels to perform the piece.

cover for the sheet music performed by the “Honey Boy” Minstrels⁵

It only took a few years for the song to enter into the mainstream, but once popularized, the song was forever changed. While the song has always been upbeat, I believe the initial, un-lyricised version sounds like a simple, genuine, upbeat nod to Handy’s home. Every recording I’ve listened to with lyrics seems to be for the purpose of a laugh.

In conclusion, if a song once was instrumental but now has lyrics, we should perhaps ask ourselves the question: Are those lyrics serving the original composer’s intent and the mood of the instrumentation? Or was the purpose to make money?

Footnotes

1 “Memphis Blues” by W.C. Handy. Auburn University Digital Library, Memphis: Theron C. Bennett Co., https://content.lib.auburn.edu/digital/collection/pianobench/id/18.

2 Handy, W.C. “The Memphis Blues by William Christopher Handy (1912, Blues piano)”. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w88NLQTPS4

3 Collins, Arthur & Harlan, Byron G. “Collins and Harlan ‘Memphis Blues’ by W. C. Handy (‘Mister Crump’ early blues) 1915 Columbia A1721”. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdRA8BdJQ0k

4 Charters, Samuel. The Country Blues. New York: Da Capo Press, 1975.

5 “Memphis Blues” by W.C. Handy and George A. Norton. The University of Alabama Libraries Special Collections, Theron C. Bennett Co., https://digitalcollections.libraries.ua.edu/digital/collection/p17336coll5/id/4100

W. C. Handy and the Blues

Posted on October 4, 2021 by Roan Findley

H.E. Krehbiel (right), 1917

In 1914, Henry Edward Krehbiel published Afro-American Folksongs: A Study in Racial and National Music. Although white, he was critical of the research that had come before him in relation to black music. In his book, he notes that the “overwhelming majority of the travellers who have written about primitive peoples have been destitute of even the most elemental knowledge of… music.” (13). This was in response to the gross misclassification of African instruments by people such as Dr. Richard Wallaschek. It was also a widely known fact in musicology back in the day that black folk music came as a result of white spirituals. While Krehbiel admits later on that “[s]imilarities exist between the folksongs of all peoples.” (14), he ultimately concludes that “the songs of the black slaves of the South are original and native products.” (22).

W. C. Handy

It was from this environment that William Christopher Handy was born. Those of you know know jazz history may know W. C. Handy for his influence in blues, pre-jazz, and in early jazz. While scouring the Library of Congress’ National Jukebox, I looked up blues songs by date and saw “The Memphis Blues” early on. The earliest recording in the National Jukebox is, coincidentally, also from 1914, although the sheet music is from 1913.

https://www.loc.gov/item/playlist?embed=resources&tracks=jukebox-275361|jukebox-41556

Songs like this and “St. Louis Blues” helped shape the face of popular black music and eventually popular music as a whole through what’s known as the 12 Bar Blues. This song form repeats a particular 12-bar harmonic structure throughout most of the song, only varying it slightly between different songs. This was not only popular throughout the early 1910s and 20s, but can also be seen throughout much of popular music in the 50s and 60s, including Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode” and Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock.”

It’s all a bit ironic in hindsight to see the original claims of white music influencing black music end up being quite the opposite today. While it’s not fair to say that it was a one way influence, it’s impossible to go through the journey of American music through W. C. Handy to Chuck Berry to Beyoncé and not recognize the huge influence of black musicians and black music in general on what American music is today.

The Latin American Blues

Posted on November 11, 2019 by Micah Dombrower

What does the salsa have in common with the blues? Well according to Tito Puente, it too is just a broad categorization of a minority’s music:

The word salsa combines all kinds of music into one, like the mambo, the cha-cha, the merengue, all music with Caribbean origins. When they call it salsa, you don’t actually define what rhythm is. That’s why I don’t particularly care for the word. However, sometimes they call me the “King of Salsa,” so I’ll go along with it, I won’t dispute it, as long as they don’t call me the “Queen of Salsa.”¹

This quote reminded me of the discussions we’ve had about the idea of “the blues,” and how throughout the term’s history it has been a broad and vague way of categorizing African American music. Likewise, Puente writes that the term “salsa” refers to an amalgamation of many musics of Caribbean origin, and that it obfuscates the different styles’ unique rhythmic identities. This leads to an at best vague conception of what salsa is among those who are not intimately familiar with it, and a lack of understanding and appreciation for the differences it encompasses — including differences in rhythm, which is an integral part and differentiator of these styles of music.

If this generalization and lack of understanding of minority cultures leads to anything, it’s stereotypes. The other parallel I saw in this quote was that to the double-sided coin of black-face minstrelsy. Puente writes that while he doesn’t “particularly care for the word [salsa],” he’ll “go along” with being called the “King of Salsa.” While against the vague misrepresentation of Caribbean music, he doesn’t complain that it is by this misrepresentation that he is risen up, much like it was through the stereotypes perpetuated by black-face minstrelsy that many African American performers got their start.

However, this compliance with stereotypes, while having benefits, also reinforces them. Louie Pérez writes about this, and how it serves as a motivator for him:

This is music made by Mexican-Americans, but if you looked that up in the dictionary, I don’t think you’d find our picture. We’re not the kind of music people would expect, which excites me. It’s nice to show that as Latinos, we can do a lot of things.²

Pérez’s showing that Latinos can “do a lot of things” sounds similar to what African American black-face performers encountered when they pushed the boundaries of what they could perform. As we discussed, their beginning to perform European art songs, for example, illustrates their expansion into an art form that not only wouldn’t have their picture in the dictionary, but would likely picture a decidedly European performer to represent a music that is decidedly European, sometimes to a racist extent.

Thus salsa might be called the Latin American blues, indicative of a broad, uninformed amalgamation of musics that are not fully understood or appreciated, indicative of the misrepresentation and pigeonholing that this categorization can cause, and indicative of the unfortunate commonalities between the oppression of different minorities in America.

1 “Tito Puente: Quote on Salsa Music.” In The American Mosaic: The Latino American Experience, ABC-CLIO, 2019. Accessed November 9, 2019. http://latinoamerican2.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1328036.

2 “Louie Pérez (Los Lobos): Quote on Not Fitting a Stereotype.” In The American Mosaic: The Latino American Experience, ABC-CLIO, 2019. Accessed November 9, 2019. http://latinoamerican2.abc-clio.com/Search/Display/1508248.

“Tito Puente (Para Los Rumberos).” YouTube video, 5:01, posted by chulonga3, Jan 2, 2009, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTKeVliVL24.

Some Jazzy Blues… And Also Ragtime?

Posted on April 16, 2018 by Annika Van Farowe

Sheet music is always super exciting. Well, maybe not always. But, that statement probably would have fit popular sentiment in the late 19^th and early 20^th century as evidenced by all Tin Pan Alley composers, lyrists, and producers who churned an exorbitant amount of music. Looking through the Sheet Music Consortium, one such piece caught my eye because it not only seemed connected to our class discussions on Tin Pan Alley, but also our classes on Jazz and the Blues.

Tom Delaney (1889-1963). Jazz and blues composer.

“The Jazz-Me Blues” were published by Palmetto Music Publishing Company in New York in 1921, and were written by Tom Delaney, who surprisingly, seems to be a bit of an enigma in my academic research sources.¹ What I did find was that he lived from 1889 to 1963, was an African American composer, and he wrote a lot of jazz and blues songs that were popular in the 20’s and later.² “The Jazz-Me Blues” are one of his songs for which there are many later recordings, a lot of them include a full band and exclude the vocal line.³ Maybe this is the way that Delaney meant for the piece to eventually be performed, as the cover of the music pictures what appears to be an all-black jazz band, and the piano arrangement was just for individual household consumption.

The cover of “The Jazz-Me Blues” by Tom Delaney, published in 1921.

Something else that is interesting about the cover is that it differs from the sheet music covers we looked at and talked about in class. Most of those depicted fictional scenes or characters, a famous singer or performer, or racial caricatures if depicting black people. Perhaps this is a notable band, and separated from the time, we don’t know that. But what is important is that the fame of the band is not what is being used to sell the music unlike the ones in class. It also is worth noting that this is a positive portrayal of black Americans; not a caricature. Is that only because right above are the words “Jazz” and “Blues”, which were connected to blackness? Or, was this music written for a different audience and purpose than what we looked at in class?

Turning the page to look at the actual provides other examples of the coupling of certain music and race, albeit in a perhaps more covert manner. The melody relies on syncopation, even mentioning the word “syncopation” in conjunction with what jazz is. This is one of the sonic markers of blackness that we spoke about in class. Additionally, the lyrics talk about jazz and “jazz-time”, as well as “ragtime” and, of course, “blues”. Again, these are all musical genres that at the time were considered black.

Another interesting portrait is painted by the lyrics:

Down in Louisiana in that sunny clime,

They play a class of music that is super-fine,

And it makes no difference if it’s rain or shine,

You can hear that jazz-in music playing all the time.

It is almost as if the people in Louisiana do nothing but sing, dance, and play jazz. Yet, this also can be read in conjunction with the last line: “I’ve got those dog-gone low-down jazz me, jazz me blues”, implying that life is really is great as long as you have jazz, which seems to thus celebrate jazz.

The first page of sheet music for “The Jazz-Me Blues“.

Ultimately, in thinking about how Rydell argued that sheet music was responsible for normalizing public attitudes, I wonder about what message this song spread.⁴ I’m not sure. On the one hand, it seems to reinforce a lot of the musical black stereotyping we have talked about in class. Yet, on the other hand, it does come across a celebration of jazz, and, according to some sources, it was this composition, among others, that helped Delaney get out of poverty. Perhaps, like much of life, the answers are not as clear as they may at first appear.

¹Delaney, Tom. “Jazz me blues”. New York: Palmetto Music Co., 1921. Retrieved from: http://webapp1.dlib.indiana.edu/metsnav/inharmony/navigate.do?oid=http://fedora.dlib.indiana.edu/fedora/get/iudl:338252/METADATA&pn=3&size=screen.

² The Commodore Master Takes. Recorded February 28, 2006. Universal Classics & Jazz, 2006, Streaming Audio. https://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/bibliographic_entity%7Crecorded_cd%7C695030. (Delaney birth and death dates)

Harris, Sheldon. “Thomas Henry ‘Tom’ Delaney.” In Thomas Henry ‘Tom’ Delaney, 877. New Rochelle, NY: Da Capo Press, 1994. https://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/bibliographic_entity%7Creference_article%7C1004410925.

³ Search for “Tom Delaney” and “Jazz-Me Blues” in Alexander Street. https://search.alexanderstreet.com/jazz/search?searchstring=tom%20delaney&is_lti_search=&term%5B0%5D=jazz%20me%20blues.

⁴ Robert W. Rydell, “Soundtracks of Empire: ‘The White Man’s Burden,’ the War in the Philippines, the ‘Ideals of America,’ and Tin Pan Alley”, European journal of American studies [Online], 7-2 (2012). Accessed on March 22 2018. DOI : 10.4000/ejas.9712.

Racial Colorblindness, Privilege, and the Monterey Pop Festival

Posted on April 16, 2018 by Megan DuBois

The Monterey International Pop Festival in June of 1967 stands as a revolutionary musical event in which new and diverse performers captivated audiences and defined a new genre. The festival is notorious, even today, for providing an escape from the tumultuous socio-political climate and spreading messages of peace and togetherness. If we truly want to study these historical events with integrity, though, it is essential to challenge the notion that Monterey Pop transcended race in the way people say it did.

Monterey International Pop Festival, 1967

One way to analyze this idea is through an in-depth look at Otis Redding and his groundbreaking performance at the festival. An African American soul and blues singer from Georgia, Redding was relatively unknown at the time of his performance. For this reason, the universal praise from mostly-white audiences appears to be a win for African American culture – a true transcendence of race through music. On some level, this might be true; it’s likely that audiences genuinely enjoyed Redding’s performance, and Redding seemed to be all in on the hippie culture. What often gets swept under the rug, though, is that this reflects a larger phenomenon of neglecting to appreciate the rich and complex cultural history from which Redding and his soulful music emerged. A newspaper article written in August of 1967 subtly hints at this idea.

“Memphis Sound, a Western Smash” from Milwaukee Star, 1967

The article from the Milwaukee Star describes the early beginnings of Memphis soul/blues music in the San Francisco “hippie” culture. The author(s) attribute this to the popularity of Otis Redding’s performance at Monterey. Much like other literature on the festival, there is no explicit mention of race or how it was diminished. However, a close reading of the article, in my opinion, highlights an overall lack of appreciation for the black folk origins of Redding’s music. Furthermore, the author(s) speak with an optimism that suggests these black origins will now be recognized and understood by hippies in the West. Though soul and blues music definitely gained a larger audience because of Redding’s performance, I would be hesitant to say that this appreciation came to fruition in a complete and integral way.

Two present-day articles about the festival highlight this lack of understanding. First, one account from Consequence of Sound addresses Redding’s surprising catapult to fame, placing special emphasis on the peaceful nature of the festival that allowed hippie audiences to appreciate a performer like Redding. Yet, the article neglects to mention race, further negating Redding’s complete story and the history from which he emerged. More explicitly, one retrospective article from Billboard features written testimonies from who were at the festival 50 years ago. One account, talking about Redding’s performance, writes: “This whole audience of white, middle-class kids started screaming and acting like they were black. ‘Lord have mercy! Right on brotha!’ It was a little bit racist.” It’s likely that those white kids at the festival thought they were spreading love and acceptance, but this nevertheless demonstrates the racial colorblindness and privilege associated with the festival. The fact that this is one of few sources that mentions race highlights the erasure that did, and still does, occur. The festival was groundbreaking and peaceful, and did many wonderful things for Redding and music like his. Regardless, it’s important to acknowledge this lack of complete understanding, and work towards a more thorough appreciation of the origins of black soul music.

Sources:

Author Unknown. “‘Memphis Sound:’” A Western Smash.’” Milwaukee Star, August 12, 1967. Accessed April 4, 2018 from the African American Historical Newspaper Collection. SQN: 12CCE7DB1A225690.

Flynn, John, Randall Colburn, and Tyler Clark. “How Janis Joplin and Otis Redding Conquered Monterey Pop Festival.” Consequence of Sound. June 18, 2017. Accessed April 04, 2018. https://consequenceofsound.net/2017/06/how-janis-joplin-and-otis-redding-conquered-monterey-pop-festival/

Tannenbaum, Rob. “The Oral History of Monterey Pop, Where Jimi Torched His Ax & Janis Became a Star: Art Garfunkel, Steve Miller, Lou Adler & More.” Billboard. May 26, 2017. Accessed April 16, 2018. https://www.billboard.com/articles/news/magazine-feature/7809491/monterey-pop-oral-history-jimi-hendrix-janis-joplin.

Mahalia Jackson, Developing Hybridity, and the Inescapable Political Machine

Posted on October 17, 2017 by Siriana

Mahalia Jackson (from the Jimmy Haynes collection at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame)

If I’ve learned anything from the past few years of music history courses, it’s that music of all kinds has a complicated and intertwining history. Music doesn’t exist in a bubble, and often, the development of assumed distinct musical genres depended on contemporaneous cultural and musical influences. Rock and Roll is no exception to this statement. In fact, this 1969 article from the Chicago Defender argues that Rock and Roll owes many of its musical traits from the Gospel genre. Despite the apparent disparity between Gospel and Rock and Roll, Earl Calloway, the article’s author, argues that the chord progressions and “uninhibited style of singing” found in rock music are derived directly from gospel music sung in church. Mahalia Jackson, who Calloway mentions later in the article as one of the first Gospel singers to break into pop culture, is a perfect example of this hybridity. In fact, Jackson was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1997. Rock stars like Little Richard count her among their major influences and the syncopation that can be heard in songs like ““Move On Up a Little Higher,” and “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” served not only to popularize Gospel music (“He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” reached the top 100 on the Pop charts), but as a foundation for later rock idioms. Take a listen to “Move on Up a Little Higher” and see if you can hear some Rock and Roll:

Article from Chicago Defender

In listening to Jackson’s recording, however, it is also evident that the Gospel style she used didn’t develop in a vacuum. Thomas Dorsey, who some (like Richard Crawford in his book American Musical Life) identify as one of the founding forces in Gospel Music worked and toured with Mahalia Jackson to develop the Gospel Sound. What is impossible to ignore in these recordings is the similarity it has to earlier Blues traditions. Mahalia Jackson drew inspiration for her vocal technique from the likes of Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith. However, instead of traditional Blues topics for her songs, she sang sacred music. Mahalia Jackson demonstrates the increasing readiness of popular music in the 20th century to change and rely on the music that came before it while influencing the music that would come later. While Gospel certainly was and is a distinct tradition from Blues or Rock and Roll, the interaction between these genres cannot be denied.

While the article from the Chicago Defender and the photograph of Jackson now housed in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame demonstrate the complicated history of musical development and transmission, they fail to acknowledge another fundamental part of music: politics. Musicologists and musicians alike, myself included, sometimes like to think of music as apolitical. I find it all too easy to hide behind theoretical analysis and stark historical facts when considering the development of musical genres. To do so, however, is to help erase and negate narratives of privilege and oppression that infected all aspects of history, including our beloved music. Mahalia Jackson’s recordings and life as a whole serve as an example of how music works as part of an inescapable political system. Her music was an influential part of the Civil Rights movement. She worked with Martin Luther King Jr. throughout the Civil Rights campaign and even sang at the 1963 March on Washington. By the very value of her identity (being a black woman in the 1960s), she and her music had no choice but to be deeply embedded in the social struggles of the 1960s. Click the play icon below to listen to this interview where Jackson speaks about her struggle to maintain Dr. King’s policy of nonviolence when confronted with egregious acts of racism throughout her career and in her personal life.

As interesting as Mahalia Jackson’s involvement with the developing hybridity of popular music in the 1960s is, equally important are her efforts to mobilize music as a political tool.

Sources

Crawford, Richard. America’s Musical Life: A History. New York: W.W. Norton, 2005.

Henry Pleasants, et al. “Jackson, Mahalia.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed October 17, 2017, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/A2249902.

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. “Mahalia Jackson.” Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Accessed October 17, 2017. https://www.rockhall.com/inductees/mahalia-jackson.

The Story: A project by American Public Media

“Spider” John Koerner

Posted on October 17, 2017 by rinckw1

“Spider” John Koerner, a prominent blues musician, was born in Rochester, New York in 1938. He grew up in New York, and eventually found himself studying for an engineering major at the University of Minnesota. This was short lived because it was there that he met the legendary Dave “Shaker” Ray.¹

Koerner’s blues career was basically jumpstarted through this encounter. The two musicians jammed together often and formed a steadfast friendship. Koerner even wrote his most famous hit, “Good Time Charlie’s Back in Town Again,” after Ray stopped in to visit him once.

While visiting Ray in New York, Koerner also met harp player Tony Glover. The three of them formed what was arguably the most well known, yet unofficial, folk trios of the 1930s². They played many gigs together, always providing a great time for their audiences as well as themselves.

Dave and Tony were kind of livin’ in Minneapolis cause that was home to them and they had things holdin’ ’em there. I had the chance to travel and I could get the work so I started travelin’ around. Then we’d just meet whenever we were in the same town together and play jobs whenever anybody was willin’ to put us together.³ ~Koerner

Their performances were well known to be enjoyable for both the audience and the performers. Koerner always made it a good time for everybody, and it was well appreciated by all those who saw and knew him. One of the last times the group got together was a prime example of this.

It was kind of weird. We played the Tyrone Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. We played one night opposite the Who. We were very drunk and fairly well stoned and we had practiced together just a couple of hours. It was kind of shakey but we had a good time.⁴ ~Koerner

In his solo performances, Ray’s influence in his life could also be seen clearly. When he performed at the Quiet Knight in December 1968, he was introduced as having been influenced by Ray from a young age.⁵ He grew up listening to him from a young age, and this transitioned into his own playing. Another time, when he returned to perform at the Gaslight, his audience “remembered” and requested that he play “Good Time Charlie’s Back in Town Again” which he wrote for Ray. When describing his performance, Koerner said…

Tony Glover calls it the oatmeal shake, cause it looked like you dipped your hand in a bucket of oatmeal and tryin’ to get it off by shakin’ your hand⁶ around. ~Koerner

Koerner was an amazing performer who had both talent as well as a charismatic and fun presence. He was greatly influenced by Dave Ray, as well as Tony Glover. Ray’s influence especially could be seen throughout his entire life, and it goes to show you how a simple chance encounter can truly go a long way. Koerner never expected success to find him when he was planning on becoming an engineer, but it did just that.

1 Joe Klee. “Spider John’s Back in Town.” Rock, January 3, 1972 (henceforth Klee).

2 ibid.

3 ibid.

4 ibid.

5 Chicago Daily Defender, “Quiet Knight Presents the Blues.” Chicago Daily Defender, December 31, 1968.

6 Klee.

Klee, Joe. “Spider John’s Back in Town.” Rock, January 3, 1972. http://www.rockandroll.amdigital.co.uk.ezproxy.stolaf.edu/Contents/ImageViewer.aspx?imageid=988853&pi=1&prevpos=905675&vpath=searchresults

Chicago Daily Defender, “Quiet Knight Presents the Blues.” Chicago Daily Defender, December 31, 1968. https://search-proquest-com.ezproxy.stolaf.edu/hnpchicagodefender/docview/494406297/B715397467854A86PQ/1?accountid=351

Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Kay Starr, and the Relentless Rain (reign) of Systemic Racism

Posted on October 10, 2017 by Isaiah Pressman

Let’s Save Negro Music ¹, written by John Henry in the Freedom periodical in New York, is interesting to me and relevant to our class discussion for a number of reasons. Primarily, it contains an interesting contemporary perspective on 1950s cultural appropriation. I can’t speak for my classmates, but it was news to me that cultural appropriation was discussed at all in that time. So, though the term ‘cultural appropriation’ itself may be a more recent invention, it is simultaneously refreshing and disheartening to know that it was discussed so long ago, relatively speaking. In the article itself, John Henry goes into detail on how white artists were capitalizing on America’s fascination with African American music, especially the Blues, and making significant capital in the process. One example that he uses is that of the popular singers Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Kay Starr. Henry says:

“[T]he country’s musical taste, shaped as it is by the hucksters, calls for denuding this music of its social meaning born in the struggles and hopes of Negro people. . . Hence you get Kay Starr’s best-selling “Didn’t it Rain.” But who remembers Sister Rosetta Tharpe’s great rendition of this exciting Biblical story? Get the two records and see which “moves” you more. That is, if you can find Sister Tharpe’s.”

Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Henry’s striking assessment of the situation is both refreshing and depressing. To elaborate, on the one hand it is good to know that the issue of cultural appropriation is not some passing millennial fad, (not that I thought it was in the first place) but has been talked about extensively before now, and is rightfully reaching a boiling point at last. However, on the other hand, it is disheartening that such an issue has been discussed for so long and still not have reached any sort of conclusion. Whether that is due simply to it’s complexity, or to society’s stubborn insistence to turn the other cheek, I cannot say, though I would hypothesize that it is some combination of the two. Regardless, for what it is worth, when looking for recordings of the aforementioned “Didn’t it Rain”, I made an encouraging discovery. Not only was Rosetta Tharpe’s rendition² easy to find, but there were many different recordings of her singing it. As for Kay Starr’s? Even though I searched multiple databases, it was nowhere to be found.

1 http://infoweb.newsbank.com/iw-search/we/HistArchive/?p_product=EAPX&p_theme=eap&p_nbid=P4CV4DECMTUwNzUwMDE1OS4zMjkyNTU6MToxMzoxMzAuNzEuMjQ0LjUw&p_action=doc&s_lastnonissuequeryname=2&d_viewref=search&p_queryname=2&p_docnum=2&p_docref=v2:1387B854F03ABB86@EAPX-138EFD70E2669848@2434499-138EFA82DBFACFB0@2-13AA2DFC4D559DED@A%20Critic%20Takes%20a%20Look%20and%20Says–%20Let%27s%20Save%20Negro%20Music%21

2 http://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/be%7Crecorded_track%7Cli_isrc_888608177535USSO49100704

Mamie Smith’s “Crazy Blues”

Posted on October 10, 2017 by Grace Kenny

Mamie Smith’s 1920 recording of “Crazy Blues” was the first successful recording of a song by a blues singer. “Crazy Blues” is an important contribution to black music, but it presents some ethical problems. Mamie Smith’s success with “Crazy Blues” came as a surprise to record labels, but they soon realized that making records of blues songs was profitable. A newspaper article by a black writer from 1921 talks about the exploitation of black musicians by phonograph companies. The companies used these musicians of color to sell blues music to black record buyers, but still excluded other musicians of color who performed different kinds of music. This picking and choosing of what music to produce and sell contributes to the problem of erasure in black music. There are certain kinds of music that are recorded and preserved, but others aren’t, even if they are equally important.

“Crazy Blues” also brings up concerns with the development of blues. According to Elijah Wald, the discovery of race records by white people led to their reinterpretations and creation of new definitions that became very different from the original source. Karl Hagstrom Miller also acknowledges the fears of some people and their worry that the success of blues that stems from commercial record businesses covers up the Southern rural roots of blues. There were other arguments against Smith that mentioned that since she was from Cincinnati, she was not connected to the blues roots and was not a real blues singer. There are also complaints of Smith’s abilities as a blues singer, criticizing that she was not any better than other white singers.

Yet, Smith has been a key contributor to the development of blues, specifically the blues that became established and accepted. Wald defines blues as whatever the mass of black record buyers called the blues. This second newspaper article from 1920 calls Mamie Smith, “the only colored girl that sings for records, which we all like to hear.” Even though Mamie Smith’s recording contributed to record companies that not only perpetuated racial inequalities, but possibly altered the advancement and preservation of blues, it doesn’t change the fact that she was popular in the black community as a blues singer and helped define the true meaning of blues.

Sources

After You’ve Gone. Recorded June 18, 2014. 2014 Railroad, 2014, Streaming Audio. Accessed October 10, 2017.

“At the Howard Theater.” Washington Bee. December 18, 1920. Accessed October 9, 2017.

Crawford, Richard. America’s Musical Life. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2001.

Gussow, Adam. “‘Shoot Myself a Cop’: Mamie Smith’s ‘Crazy Blues’ as Social Text.” Callaloo, 25, no. 1 (2002): 8–44.

“In the World of Music.” Washington Bee. February 19, 1921. Accessed October 9, 2017.

Miller, Karl Hagstrom. Segregating Sound: Inventing Folk and Pop Music in the Age of Jim Crow. Durham: Duke University Press, 2010.

Wald, Elijah. Escaping the Delta: Robert Johnson and the Invention of the Blues. New York: Harper Collins, 2004.

Crazy Markets for Crazy Blues

Posted on October 10, 2017 by Siriana

Mamie Smith

Mamie Smith wasn’t a blues singer. Today, however, we know her as one of the most influential figures in the creation of the blues music industry. So what exactly happened?

Smith began as a cabaret singer, but one fateful day in 1920, Sophie Tucker, another singer, coudln’t make it into Okeh Record’s recording studio. Smith was givena chance to ake her first recording, That Thing Called Love, and after that was recruited to make an another recording of a song called Crazy Blues. Though Smith was not by trade a blues singer, she made the record anyway. After it was released, the record sold over 75 000 copies in just a few months. This success is especially notable, as this record was the first recording of a blues song by a black singer.

In addition to being widely commercially successful, Crazy Blues has greater economic and social implications. This recording heralds the beginning of an entirely new music market. The popularity ofthe song caused the Okeh Records and several other labels to sign more black female blues singers to produce “race records”. Intially, these “race records” were sung by black musicians and were intended for black listeners, but soon the form of classic blues represented by these records became popular across racial lines. Mamie Smith’s record paved the way for countless black musicians to break into the blues market. Take five minutes and listen to noted activist Angela Davis talk about Mamie Smith’s significant contribution to the music industry in this interview with NPR’s “All Things Considered”.

Article from Front Page of Washington Bee, December 18th, 1920

Further evidence of the new blues craze can be found in this article from the December 18th, 1920 issue of he Washington Bee, an African American historical newspaper based in Washington D.C.. Situated neatly on the front page, this small notice of an upcoming performance at the Howard Theater exemplifies the excitement stirring around the new musical possibilities illuminated by Smith and her record. The author of the article heralds Smith as “one of the most-talked-of women who ever parter her lips to pour forth melodies…”. Not only does this article encapsulate Smith’s increasing fanbase, but also the uniqueness of her position in society. Smith, as a woman of color, was the highest paid among Okeh Records singers. This newfound ability to turn blues into money and record sales was profitable not only for musicians, but also for record companies and theaters. Companies began to find out that if they could contract a blues singer they could make a quick buck . This recording, and the subsequent boom in “race records” ushered in a entirely new and relatively untapped musical market. Before this record, music wasn’t being marketed toward black audiences. Rather, black folk music was idealized to fit white musical standards. While this recording and these newspaper articles may still reflect the capitalist pandering that musicians are so often wont to do, they also reflect a change in the way the msuci industry looked at its consumers. Mamie Smith and her record Crazy Blues opened up an entirely new market to the music industry while simultaneously creating a pop-culture phenomenon. And I think that’s worth noting.

Works Cited

“At the Howard Theater.” Washington Bee (Washington D.C.), December 18, 1920. Accessed October 10, 2017. African American Historical Newspapers,.

Crawford, Richard. America’s Musical Life: A History. New York: W.W. Norton, 2005.

Oliver, Paul. “Smith, Mamie.” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed October 10, 2017, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/41390.

“Mamie Smith and the Birth of the Blues Market.” NPR. November 11, 2006. Accessed October 10, 2017. http://www.npr.org/2006/11/11/6473116/mamie-smith-and-the-birth-of-the-blues-market.

Sultry Divas. Recorded September 30, 2008. Columbia River Entertainment, 2008, Streaming Audio. Accessed October 10, 2017. http://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/be%7Crecorded_cd%7Cli_upc_723723519221.

Where is THAT in the blues?

Posted on October 10, 2017 by carlso2

W.C. Handy is the “Father of the Blues”

Headline: Seen and Heard While Passing; Article Type: News/Opinion
Freeman (Indianapolis, Indiana) • 09-26-1914 • Page 6

W. C. Handy became the “Father of the Blues” when he titled his autobiography that same name in 1957. However, this legacy started decades sooner, when Handy published the first “blues” with “Memphis Blues” in 1912. This blues became an immediate commercial success.

I was interested by the fact that “Memphis Blues” was the first blues ever written down, so I tried to find an early review of the work. In 1914, an Indianapolis newspaper, Freeman, ran a review of Handy praising the “Memphis Blues.” What surprised me most was a comment near the end of the article,

[Memphis Blues’] rapid increase in popularity everywhere makes it a psychological study and it is bound to become a classic of its kind just as the real Negro compositions of Will Marion Cooke, Scott Joplin and other Negro composers are now considered to be the only real expression of the Negro in music and the only genuine American music.

The “only genuine American Music?” Have you heard “Memphis Blues?” In case you have not, here is an early recording of it from 1944 by Lu Watters’ Yerba Buena Jazz Band

Does that sound a little like ragtime to you? To me, “Memphis Blues” simply does not sound like what I know as The Blues. Of course, is this a problem? Furthermore, who am I to decide what the blues should sound like? Well, thankfully, we have musicologists for that.

In Elijah Wald’s book, Escaping the Delta, notes:

“[experts argue] that Dock Boggs was a blues singer but that W. C. Handy’s songs were ragtime… Musicologically, that makes sense.”

So I’m not crazy! There is something going on in “Memphis Blues” that makes it feel like ragtime instead of a blues! A further look at the sheet music published by W.C. Hardy indicates something unique… “Memphis Blues” is not in a standard 12-bar form! Its a 16-bar form. A 12-bar like figure appears in the chorus, but it is not clearly laid out.

Perhaps this was just an initial form that became updated over time. Perhaps my notion of “the blues” is simply chronologically later. I looked into another take on “Memphis Blues” by Louis Armstrong, and as you can hear it is just the same confusing 16-bar form.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15ju2P7iskQ

But this track also brought me to the bonus track on this album. The bonus material includes an interview of the producer of the track with W.C. Handy himself regarding Louis Armstrong. I was surprised to hear how much Handy emphasis “naturalness.” Handy thought that audiences most liked Louis because he brought a “pride of race” to his playing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sFlFtRJZHPM

I struggled to understand why Handy valued “naturalness” so highly. Especially when he took samples of black musical culture, polished it, and commercialized it. I think perhaps Handy gave a title to the movement of the Blues, but he soon watched it expand to engulf several different genres and become mainstream popular music. As the consumers enjoyed the folk aspect of the music, Handy tried to make this more of a selling point to his music. He soon began to place a lot of value on Authentic Black American Music, after the fact of Memphis Blues’ initial publication.

So why don’t I think of the Memphis Blues sound as “The Blues?” Well, likely it is due to the influence of Robert Johnson as recorded by the Lomaxes and other influences. This may have led to the B.B. King, Jimi Hendrix, and Eric Clapton sounds that I associate with the blues today. To know for sure I would have to start looking into Robert Johnson’s history.

Nevertheless, Handy should be praised for being the Father of the Blues, even if some of his music feels unauthentic to me. As Wald comments in Escapign Delta,

“to say that the artists who gave the music its name and established it as a familiar genre are not “real” blues artists because they do not fit later folkloric or musicological standards is flying in the face of history and common sense” (7).

Wald highlights an important point. Handy certainly put a lot of work into the genre, and he should be remembered for that.

Works Cited

Handy, W., & Bontemps, A. (1957). Father of the blues : An autobiography. London: Sidgwick and Jackson.

Handy, W., & Handy’s Memphis Blues Band. (1994). W.C. Handy’s Memphis Blues Band.

Willie Bunk Johnson/ Lu Watters’ Yerba Buena Jazz Band: Bunk & Lu [Streaming Audio]. (1990). Good Time Jazz. (1990). Retrieved October 10, 2017, from Music Online: Jazz Music Library.

Whitney, S.H. (1914, September 26). “W.C. Handy, Composter of the Memphis Blues, the Man Who is Making Memphis Famous.” Freeman, pp. 6. Retrieved from newsbank.com.

What Makes the Blues So Doggone Hard to Define

Posted on October 10, 2017 by Nicholas Love

In a quest to find the “bluesiest of blues” tracks, I recently took a deep dive into my ten-year-old iTunes library, and all that I found was sheer bewilderment. How can tracks along the lines of “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones and “Layla” by Eric Clapton be on the same “bluesy” spectrum as Muddy Water’s “Mannish Boy” or Ray Charles “What’d I Say?” Or even more specifically: how can any of these songs be placed on a level playing field when they all contain elements of different genres ranging from rock-n-roll to folk to jazz.

I think that this can partly be understood through the notion that “blues” music has served largely as a marketing term over the years, and while it undoubtedly has certain roots in the oppressed African American community, it has since transformed into countless different forms and styles. In order to approach this broad claim, I think one doesn’t have to look any further than the headlines, advertisements, and recordings of one of the original “blues queens:” Mammie Smith.

http://search.alexanderstreet.com/view/work/be%7Crecorded_track%7Cli_isrc_723723519221USY9R0910356

Through her rendition of Perry Bradford’s “Crazy Blues”, Mammie Smith reached near-overnight stardom, becoming one of the first first recorded African-American “jazz-blues” singers. The song, which tells a somber story concerning unrequited love, may lyrically display a “romantically blue” atmosphere,” but the instrumentation and vocal performance tell otherwise. Rather than a rhythmically ambiguous, anguishing melody sparsely accompanied and improvised upon, the track contains a tight band, consisting of sweeping trombones and light, gliding clarinets, evoking more of a comical and polished sound. Along similar grounds, while Mammie Smith sings with great conviction and soul, she seems to performing in a relaxed, theatrical style with a masterful contralto voice. With an overall recording style leaning more towards a light-hearted and professional popular music medium, “Crazy Blues” demonstrated it’s marketing prowess by spreading across the U.S., earning both Smith and Bradford a fortune.

Smith’s “blues” act serving as a marketable genre can also be seen through her performances alongside her “Jazz Hounds Orchestra.” In the Savannah Tribune’s January 22, 1921 issue, an article is written in anticipation for Mammie Smith’s live performance at the Savannah Auditorium, describing her show as being

“…greeted by capacity audiences at every point, in one city alone she sang to an audience of over 11,000 paid admissions.”

Whether or not W.C. Handy’s famous stories of “discovering the blues” in the poor, rugged country is embellished and romanticized, serving audiences as large as these requires a hip, spirited, and theatrically expanded sound that is initially and popularly defined as “blues” in the music of Mammie Smith. The article even goes on to describe Smith’s shows as containing a wide set of acts, including a “well known juggler and a celebrated ventriloquist,” which only further emphasizes the performance-based, comical, and marketable basis of the early 1920’s “blues.”

Over the last century, different musical and social trends have led the blues market to a wide array of strains and styles, spanning from Jagger to Charles. While folklorists can still only speculate any folk-based or cultural roots of the “blues” that were picked up by early visionaries, the beginning of the 1920’s “blues”-mania is centered around the highly marketable and popular form of soulful and lively tunes, including Smith/Bradford’s “Crazy Blues.”

Link to news article:

http://infoweb.newsbank.com/iw-search/we/HistArchive/?p_product=EANX&p_theme=ahnp&p_nbid=J57Q58LNMTUwNzU5MTQwNi4yNzM1ODU6MToxMzoxMzAuNzEuMjQyLjUx&p_action=doc&s_lastnonissuequeryname=20&d_viewref=search&p_queryname=20&p_docnum=4&p_docref=v2:11CCCBEC43F62EDE@EANX-11E7581B13A079A0@2422712-11E7581B1F220C08@0-11E7581B4FA109A0@Mamie%20Smith%20and%20Her%20Jazz%20Hounds.%20Appear%20at%20Auditorium%20February%209th

Sources

Kernfeld, Barry Dean. The new Grove dictionary of jazz: Smith, Mammie. Vol. 3. London: Macmillan Reference Ltd., 1997.

The Savannah Tribune. “Mammie Smith and her Jazz Hounds. Appear at Auditorium February 9th.” The Savannah Tribune (Savannah, Georgia), January 22, 1921, 11E7581B13A079A0 ed.

Wald, Elijah. Escaping the delta: Robert Johnson and the invention of the blues. New York: Amistad, 2005..

What’s a Stavin’ Chain?

Posted on October 3, 2017 by Sam

In 1938, American ethnomusicologist Alan Lomax and the self-proclaimed inventor of jazz Jelly Roll Morton came together to lay down the definitive timeline for the birth of jazz. Their recording session resulted in a 9-hour collection of Jelly Roll Morton songs and interviews between Morton and Lomax. In the first song recorded during these sessions, Winin’ Boy Blues, Morton sings the lines

I’m the winin’ boy, don’t deny my name

I can pick it up and shake it like Stavin’ Chain’s

(Caution: this song contains some of the most explicit lyrics I’ve ever heard)

The phrase Stavin’ Chain stood out to me. What exactly is a Stavin’ Chain? Upon investigation, I found that this is not the only instance of a blues/jazz singer singing about Stavin’ Chain. There were songs by Lil Johnson (Stavin’ Chain) and “Big” Joe Williams (Stavin’ Chain Blues) that refer to Stavin’ Chain. From browsing various blues forum websites, I have found a variety of interpretations to what a Stavin’ Chain is. Some say it is a tool used to make barrels. Others claimed that Stavin’ Chain is a figure in African-American folklore famous for conducting trains. One man claimed that it’s an expression for having sex. Luckily, I was able to find an interview between Lomax and Morton about this very subject in Jelly Roll Morton: The Complete Library of Congress Recordings.

Taken from the recording Bad Men and Pimps

Lomax: And what about Stavin’ Chain?
Jelly Roll: Stavin’ Chain, well he was a pimp. Supposed to have more women in this district than any other pimp.
Lomax: Did you actually know Stavin’ Chain?
Jelly Roll: No, I heard everybody talk about him, never get into his way…
Lomax: What what did you hear about him, this is very interesting cause, you know, they have a song about Stavin’ Chain
Jelly Roll: Well, you know, he slept like Stavin’ Chain.
Lomax: Good tune, too.
Jelly Roll: Yes, I like the tune, I can’t, couldn’t memorize the tune, you know…
Lomax: Popular around New Orleans as well.
Jelly Roll: Yeah, at one time it was. Let’s see… that was around….19….8.
Lomax: Was Stavin’ Man a white man or colored one?
Jelly Roll: A colored one.
Lomax: Supposedly good looking.
Jelly Roll: Yes, he………. Women was supposed to be crazy about him.

As it turns out, Lomax knew this Stavin’ Chain character that Morton was singing about. Stavin’ Chain, also known as Wilson Jones, was an American blues musician that Lomax photographed and recorded in 1934. Stavin’ Chain was famous for his sexual prowess became a legend in the American blues scene. I’ve found that American blues music is one with an extremely rich history and is full of similar, obscure references. Hours of research can be done unpacking and contextualizing the lyrics from this music. For being able to do this, we owe much gratitude to Alan Lomax for preserving this music for future study and enjoyment.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GX_QKr_mssM

Sources

“Bad Men and Pimps.” YouTube. February 11, 2015. Accessed October 02, 2017. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwxP8uT-zQ4.

“Jelly Roll Morton – Winin’ Boy Blues – Library of Congress 1939.” YouTube. June 02 2015. Accessed October 02, 2017. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxkvu_gWlQI

Lomax, Alan 1915-2002. “Lomax Collection.” [Stavin’ Chain playing guitar and singing the ballad “Batson,” Lafayette, La. (fiddler in the background)]. January 01, 1970. Accessed October 02, 2017. http://www.loc.gov/pictures/collection/lomax/item/2007660070/.

“Winin’ Boy Blues.” Community Guitar Home. Accessed October 3, 2017. http://www.communityguitar.com/students/Songs/WininBoy.htm.

Odetta Who?

Posted on March 9, 2015 by sison

When many people think of American folk music, some of the first musicians that comes to mind are Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger or Woody Guthrie. Few people know of Odetta Holmes, known simply by her stage name Odetta. Her name isn’t even mentioned in the Wikipedia “American Folk Music” page! Most people know her as “The Voice of the Civil Rights Movement,” due to her influential role she played as an activist and blues/gospel musician.

Odetta in the Chicago Defender, 1964

[1]

However, Odetta started off not as a folk singer, but instead earned a music degree at Los Angeles City College. She went on to tour with a musical theater group performing “Finian’s Rainbow,” which was, fittingly, about prejudice. As she toured, she discovered that enjoyed singing in the coffeeshops late at night, infusing her music with the frustration she experienced growing up. In a 2005 National Public Radio interview, she said: ”School taught me how to count and taught me how to put a sentence together. But as far as the human spirit goes, I learned through folk music” [2].

Cover of Ballads and Blues

[3]

Odetta released her first solo album, “Odetta Sings Ballad and Blues,” in 1956. This album would turn out to be influential for a certain Bob Dylan. He stated in a 1978 Playboy interview that “the first thing that turned me on to folk singing was Odetta,” after listening to this album in a record store. He learned all the songs and found something “vital and personal” in her singing [4]. Not only did her music draw Bob Dylan to folk music, but she also met Joan Baez, another popular folk musician, and Baez cites Odetta as one of her primary influences as well [5]. Two of the biggest names in American folk music were influenced by a woman and social activist that would later go on to perform at the 1963 march on Washington, march with Martin Luther King Jr. from Selma to Montgomery in 1965, sing for presidents Kennedy and Clinton, as well as perform at New York’s Carnegie Hall.

I think that’s pretty neat

Ad for Odetta next to an ad for Bob Dylan in the Berkeley Tribe, 1969

[6]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fd-ccVrIbQI

Odetta singing Muleskinner Blues, 1956

Bob Dylan Singing Muleskinner Blues, 1962

1.”Photo Standalone 23 — no Title.” The Chicago Defender (National Edition) (1921-1967), Jan 25, 1964. 10, http://search.proquest.com/docview/493137885?accountid=351.
2. Weiner, Tim. “Odetta, Voice of Civil Rights Movement, Dies at 77.” NYTimes.com. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/03/arts/music/03odetta.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0 (Accessed March 9, 2015)
3. “Odetta Sings Ballads and Blues, Expanded CD Cover.” 1956. wikipedia.org.
4.”Playboy Interview: Bob Dylan.” http://www.interferenza.com/bcs/interw/play78.htm (Accessed March 9, 2015)
5. Baez, Joan. And a Voice to Sing With: A Memoir. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2009, p. 43.
6.”No Title.” Berkeley Tribe (1969-1972), 1969. 22-23, http://www.rockandroll.amdigital.co.uk/Search/DocumentDetailsSearch.aspx?documentid=1065486&prevPos=1065486&vpath=searchresults&pi=1

A Muddy link from Blues to Rock

Posted on March 9, 2015 by smithg

As blues gained popularity through publication and performances it became blended with other types of popular music. Blues and rock music were obvious candidates for combination, both drawing on folk instrumentation and sharing similar subjects. In Chicago, which was a hotbed of blues music when many black musicians migrated to Chicago to leave the South. Possibly the most influential musician of the blending is McKinley Morganfield AKA Muddy Waters. Waters got his start at home in Mississippi when Alan Lomax traveled there on behalf of the Library of Congress in 1941 and again in 1942. Waters was later released on the album “Down on Stovall’s Plantation” from these recordings.

This recording shows us that Muddy Waters is a legit player of the blues from the south and would be taken seriously by white audiences in the North.

In 1943, shortly after Lomax’s visit, Waters moved to Chicago in hopes of making it big as a blues musician. As Muddy Waters made his way as a blues performer he made with friends with Big Bill Broonzy who helped Waters become popular. This article from Cultural Equity highlights some of the connection between Muddy Waters and Big Bill Broonzy. Muddy Waters was put on singles in the late 40s and through the 50s in Chicago. Waters gained popularity from recording Robert John tunes who had been on the blues mind since 1938 from the “Spirituals to Swing” concert in New York (Here’s a short RadioLab episode about this concert and Robert Johnson, it’s great!).

Muddy Waters became very popular in Chicago and was seen as a performer who was keeping the folk in the blues and rock that he was performing. Because he had such a close connection to the south and his history there. The Defender wrote an article to this effect in 1972. Muddy Waters keeps alive an Afro-American culture

The good book says you’ve got to reap just what you sow

Posted on March 4, 2015 by nyberg

The blues tradition started with emotion. Albert Murray, a black novelist, commented that the blues were a way for one to “[Confront, acknowledge, and contend] with the infernal absurdities and ever-impending frustrations inherent in the nature of all experience.”¹Drawing from the oral music traditions of “field hollers” and call and response, the blues had a strong presence and role of importance in black American communities starting during the Reconstruction period before segregation laws.

One of the early recordings of Alberta Hunter and Lovie Austin’s Down-hearted blues was done in 1923²(the YouTube recording below is from 1939). It follows the typical AABA structure the blues would follow and makes use of call and response primarily between the singer and a clarinet. One thing that can be noted is the inflections Hunter uses as she sings. Many of the accents and emotive inflections she uses in her phrasing would not be written down in the music––such as shortening a note at the end of a phrase, sliding into or between notes and adding accented vibrato to a sustained note.

The subject matter deals with the singer being unhappy in the romantic situation she’s in. Hunter specifically sings about “the man that wrecked her life,” but beyond the relationship, the man could be extended to representing her job or position in society (especially important given the time this piece was written in). In the first verse, Hunter sings that “the good book says you’ve got to reap just what you sow,” which is acceptance for the situation that she’s in––something she could have arguably had very much or very little control over to begin with.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOn6s3g00do

1. Hogue, W. Lawrence. Discourse and the Other: The Production of the Afro-American Text. Durham, North Carolina, NC: Duke University Press, 1986.

2. Hunter, Alberta and Austin Love. Tennessee Ten: Down-hearted blues. Victor, 1923, audio recording, http://www.loc.gov/jukebox/recordings/detail/id/9323.

St.Louis Blues- A Song Represents “Sexuality”?

Posted on March 3, 2015 by xies

Hollywood cinemas in mid-20^th century would use blues songs as a means to articulate racial instability in the characterization of women who represented problems in terms of their sexuality, their morality, and their (lower) class status.

The song St.Louis Blues would be an example.

Composed by W. C. Handy in 1914, St. Louis Blues was first featured in black vaudeville circa 1916 by Charles Anderson. On the basis of the song’s popularity, Handy has been called “The Father of the Blues”.

The song begins with a woman’s lament for the end of the day: “I hate to see de evenin’ sun go down.” Her man has left her for another woman who had “store-bought hair” and became a temptation too great for him to ignore. Composed in G major, St. Louis Blues is a 12-bar blues that combine ragtime syncopation with “a real melody in the spiritual tradition”. Handy also addressed that features from tango music was also figured in the introduction as well as the middle strain. In the famous Marion Harris version, the tango motif was played by violins, with bassoon’s humorous staccato, creating the image of a lovesick woman, full of lovelorn sadness but still has the longing for life.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4Qccz2qsHY

Handy writes in his autobiography:

However, did the Hollywood film production interpret the music as W.C. Handy’s interpretation? My answer would be NO- the hardness in life and love relationship was mostly lost. According to Peter Stanfield, Stella Dallas (1937) provided a good example of the complex ideological work that was often performed by blues music. Stella “decay” from a “mother” to a “sexualized” when she laying on the sofa with a sexy pose and playing St. Louis Blues on her phonograph (after seeing all these, Stella’s daughter decided to leave Stella forever). I think it is clear that the symbolic power of St. Louis Blues was shown here, by the “transgressive” female sexuality, the “blackening” of white identity, and “urban primitivism.”

http://youtu.be/7sJun3eM8UY?list=PLaTUqD7vwzLXjcM8djw38nSPvnfkTcAS3

I personally think it is not an occasion that the White society perceived Blues as “primitive” but “sexy” in early 20^th century. Sociologist Gramsci’s idea of “culture hegemony” had to play in somewhere. White society would just love to take anything they want to take from black music- they redefined it and distorted it in order to adjust the entertainment of white people, without any further understanding of what the music actually talked about; Yet at the same time, African American musicians seemed already “accepted” the twisted impression in White society since they had to sale their music to white music dealers and singers, in order to make a living.

Sources:

Stanfield, Peter. 2002. “An Excursion into the Lower Depths: Hollywood, Urban Primitivism, and St. Louis Blues, 1929-1937”. Cinema Journal. 41, no. 2. http://www.jstor.org/stable/1225853

David Evans. “Handy, W.C..” Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed March 4, 2015, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/12322.

Handy, W. C. St. Louis blues. New York: Handy Bros. Music Co., Inc., 1914.http://purl.dlib.indiana.edu/iudl/lilly/devincent/LL-SDV-09808

The Foxtrot: W.C. Handy, the Castles, and an Animal Obsession

Posted on March 3, 2015 by biedenbe

W.C. Handy, the Father of the Blues, in 1941.

From the 1890s to the 1910s, the world changed. A new era was sweeping the nation, the age of ragtime and the blues. As the popularity of this music skyrocketed, people all over America demanded to hear and dance to the music that before had only been available in regional enclaves like St. Louis, New Orleans, and Memphis. Sensing a money-making opportunity, musicians began to compose and play (and sell) what the public wanted to hear. The first musician to leap into commercialization of the blues was W.C. Handy, and his “Memphis Blues” is credited with inspiring the dance known as the foxtrot.

Mr. and Mrs. Castle dancing.

Meet Vernon and Irene Castle, a husband-and-wife dance team at the turn of the century. Through their hard work and numerous performances, they popularized social dancing and brought it from ballrooms into public venues. Needless to say, they were a big deal. As Handy recounts in his 1941 autobiography, Father of the Blues, their music director James Reese Europe played the slow “Memphis Blues” between faster dances (like the One-Step) to give the famous Castles a break. Falling in love with the rhythm, the couple decided to create a dance to go with the music. Following the contemporary craze of naming dances after animals (check out the Grizzly Bear, Turkey Trot, and Camel Walk), they originally called their dance the Bunny Hug but later changed the name to the foxtrot.

Maybe like me you assumed that the foxtrot has been around for a very long time. After all, the dance is included with the waltz, tango, and Viennese waltz in the American Smooth category of competitive dancing. But, like with the origins of the blues (while it is a descendent of centuries of African-American music, it is not itself an old genre), you cannot make assumptions about the history of a dance or a musical genre, lest we miss interesting connections like this one.

Armed with this knowledge, take a listen to Handy’s “Memphis Blues” and, if you know it, throw in a little foxtrot.

Click the image to listen to Morton Harvey’s 1914 recording of “Memphis Blues” at the Library of Congress’s National Jukebox.

Handy, W.C. Father of the Blues: An Autobiography. London: Sidgwick and Jackson, 1957.

Handy, W.C. “The Memphis Blues.” Morton Harvey, tenor. Victor 17657, 1914. Library of Congress National Jukebox, http://www.loc.gov/jukebox/recordings/detail/id/117/ (accessed March 3, 2014).

Johnston, Frances Benjamin. [Irene and Vernon Castle, full-length, in dancing position]. Between 1910 and 1918. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Online Catalog, http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/98506505/ (accessed March 3, 2014).

Van Vechten, Carl. [Portrait of William Christopher Handy]. July 17, 1941. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Online Catalog, http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2004662979/ (accessed March 3, 2014).

Original Dixieland Jass Band

Posted on March 3, 2015 by andersdh

http://www.loc.gov/jukebox/recordings/detail/id/4669

Originally from New Orleans, LA, the Original Dixieland Jass Band (ODJB) was recruited to Chicago in 1916 to perform at Schiller’s Cafe. There was interest in bringing a New Orleans-style band to Chicago. After a number of personnel changes, ODJB was booked to perform in New York City. Starting in January 1917, ODJB took up residency providing upbeat dancing music at Reisenweber’s Restaurant in New York City.

At the time, the center of the music recording industry was New York City and New Jersey. ODJB had earned their own following in New York and received invitations to record. In the end of February, the band recorded with Victor Talking Machine Company and recorded two sides of a 78 record under the Victor name. The song here, Dixie Jass Band One-Step, and Livery Stable Blues were the first songs released on this record.

Original Dixieland ‘Jass’ Band – Dixie Jass Band One-Step Victor 18255-A, February 26, 1917 Library of Congress National Jukebox

With the release of this record, ODJB gained immense popularity in America. The members dubbed themselves “Creators of Jazz” having given the American people their first taste of jazz with their record release. After a successful first release, the ODJB recorded more songs for a total of 25, 2-song records before the group’s disbandment in 1925.

Dixieland jazz is different than what we think of as “jazz” today. It follows the 12-bar blues model, but instead of having a dominant soloist in the foreground, each of the five players play throughout. It sounds as if each player is playing his own solo throughout the whole song. It gives a different flavor of ensemble than we are used to in today’s instrumental music.

One of the primary uses for this music was dance. The complexity of the music itself and each of the five instruments intertwining with each other parallels that of public dancing. Everyone dances to the same beat, but each person on the dance floor is dancing his or her own way. No one looks or sounds the same. The same applies to Dixieland Jazz.

http://www.loc.gov/jukebox/recordings/detail/id/4669

John Chilton. “Original Dixieland Jazz Band.” The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz, 2nd ed.. Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, accessed March 2, 2015, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/J339300.

Hammering Out “Our Singing Country”

Posted on March 3, 2015 by sison

Alan Lomax playing guitar on stage at the Mountain Music Festival, Asheville, N.C.

[1]

John Lomax and his son, Alan, set out for one of the most ambitious tasks attempted in American folk song history: To travel thousands of miles and collect recordings of as many songs as possible in order to preserve them in the Library of Congress’s Archive of American Folk Song. Early in their travels, they came upon a black guitarist and singer named Huddie Ledbetter. He would later be more commonly known by his nickname, “Leadbelly.” The Lomaxes were very impressed with his repertoire of folk songs as well as his virtuosic skill as a twelve-string guitarist. As a result of his four year imprisonment in the Louisiana’s Angola Prison for murder, he was cut off from hearing the popular music of the day. For the Lomaxes, he was a prime living example of the folk tradition they were seeking out and sought to bring his voice to the American public. After employing him as a driver and servant, they brought him to New York in order to record and promote his “pure folk” sound.

Leadbelly, three-quarter-length, profile, facing right, lifting car out of snow, at the home of Mary Elizabeth Barnicle, Wilton, Conn.

[2]

However, in order to make Leadbelly’s music palatable to the public, it seems some edits had to be made. Take the work song “Take This Hammer,” which can be found in the Lomaxes’ collection Our Singing Country: Folk Songs and Ballads from 1941 shown here:

“Take This Hammer” as it appears in Our Singing Country

[3]

Library of Congress Recording of prisoners at Florida State Prison singing “Take dis Hammer”

Now compare it to the transcription found in The Leadbelly Songbook, as transcribed by Jerry Silverman in 1962 and recorded by Leadbelly in the 1940’s:

“Take This Hammer” as it appears in The Leadbelly Songbook

[4]

As you can see, the general notes and rhythms are still the same, with some added notes in Leadbelly’s performance. However, in the Leadbelly version, the controversial verses about the “captain” calling him a “nappy-headed devil” and grabbing his gun are omitted. Also, in Our Singing Country, “Take This Hammer” is considered to be a highly rhythmic song that was sung when a slave worked in a gang in order to synchronize the dropping of axes and to “…make the work go more easily by adapting its rhythm to the rhythm of a song.” (citation) In the field recording, which lacks the dropping of picks but is conveyed through the “wahs” of the men singing, the tempo is considerably slower than when Leadbelly sings it.

If the Lomaxes wanted to accurately portray the pure folk tradition in this song, they would have sent the Florida State prisoners to New York to record it how it would have been performed. But no one would have bought the record or even bothered to listen to it. Instead, they realized that in order for the dying folk tradition to be kept alive they had to bring the style into American popular music. Unlike the folk song preservers of the past, they respected the black musical tradition and wanted it to be accessible to white audiences without losing too much of its authenticity. In doing so, the Lomaxes brought folk music to the American popular music sphere and created a new musical tradition.

1. “Alan Lomax playing guitar on stage at the Mountain Music Festival, Asheville, N.C,” Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division, Lomax Collection, http://www.loc.gov/pictures/collection/lomax/item/2007660160/ (accessed 3/2/15).
2. “Leadbelly, three-quarter-length, profile, facing right, lifting car out of snow, at the home of Mary Elizabeth Barnicle, Wilton, Conn,” Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division, Lomax Collection, http://www.loc.gov/pictures/collection/lomax/item/2007660303/ (accessed 3/2/15).
3. John A. and Alan Lomax. Our Singing Country: Folk Songs and Ballads. (New York, Dover Publishing Inc., 2000), 380-381.
4. Moses Asch and Jerry Silverman, The Leadbelly Songbook. (London, Oak Publications, 1962), 45.

Bringing the Blues to the national stage: W.C. Handy

Image

William Christopher Handy, age 67

Widely acclaimed as “the father of the Blues,” William Christopher Handy experienced humble beginnings. Handy grew up in a log cabin in Florence, Alabama to former slaves. His father, a preacher, believed that musical instruments were tools of the devil and did not support his son’s musical endeavors.

As a teenager, Handy went against his parents’ wishes and secretly saved up to purchase a cornet by picking berries and nuts and making lye soap; he then joined a local band and spent every free minute practicing it. His troubles worsened after his band Lauzetta Quartet disbanded and he spent two years in St. Louis living under a bridge, homeless.

He would later reflect on his early days saying, “You’ve got to appreciate the things that come from the art of the Negro and from the heart of the man farthest down.”

In 1909, Handy self-published his song “Memphis Blues” while working in several clubs on Beale Street. Since then, the term “memphis blues” is used in lyrics of other tunes to describe a depressed mood.

“The Memphis Blues” is said to be based on a campaign song written by Handy for Edward Crump, a mayoral candidate in Memphis, TN and so is subtitled “Mr. Crump.”

For the 1914 recording of “Memphis Blues” by Morton Harvey, tenor, click the link below: http://www.loc.gov/jukebox/recordings/detail/id/117

The song introduced his style of 12-bar blues and is credited with inspiring the foxtrot dance step by Vernon and Irene Castle, a NY dance team. When Handy moved to New York City, his hit songs “Memphis Blues” along with “Yellow Dog Blues” and “St. Louis Blues” brought Handy’s musical style to the forefront of mainstream American culture.

By moving from Tennessee to New York, Handy was able to spread the Blues to the epicenter of music during the early 20th century. His struggles during his early days allowed him to draw on his tribulations in order to create a genre of music America could call its own.

For more information on W.C. Handy’s life and music, check out this documentary!

Chenrow, Fred & Chenrow, Carol (1973). “W.C. Handy” Reading Exercises in Black History, Volume 1. Elizabethtown, PA: The Continental Press, Inc. p. 32.

Handy, W.C. “Memphis Blues. 1913.” Rare Book, Manuscript, and Special Collections Library, Duke University. Reproduction Number Music #725; 1-3. Web. 2 March 2015.

Van Vechten, Carl, photographer. Portrait of William Christopher Handy, 1941. Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress. Reproduction Number LC-USZ62-42531 DLC.

Richard Crawford, America’s Musical Life: A History, New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2001, pp. 536-537

William Christopher Handy’s “Memphis Blues” Library of Congress. http://www.loc.gov (accessed March 2, 2015).

From Blues to Jazz: Handy to Vaughan

Posted on March 2, 2015 by christes

Jazz is a musical style native to the United States, that emerged in the early Twentieth century. Jazz was influenced from Blues music, which was established most notably by W.C. Handy in 1917. Jazz has new sound that incorporates both the African American musical stylings and the European American form of music. This hybridization of the two heritages created a unique style of music which we now call under a big genre “umbrella,” Jazz. In the Library of Congress photo archives, a photo of the reputable Sarah Vaughan was present among many photos of white jazz singers. She became popular in the late 40s and early 50s when Jazz was really hitting it’s stride as popular music, with the likes of Frank Sinatra.

Vaughan was highly influenced by the early blues style, of W.C. Handy. Handy’s invention or development of the Memphis Blues, drew on the folk style of the old southern plantation music. The emotional context of this music is heard in the vocal stylings of the renowned Sarah Vaughan. The memphis blues eventually took shape to the 12-bar blues, which also led to the development of Jazz.

While Vaughan represents a big part of the Jazz era, more commonly was the presence of white artists, such as Doris Day, Peggy Lee, and Sinatra. They emulated the sounds of a soulful Vaughan, singing on topics that go back to the days of slavery.

http://www.loc.gov/jukebox/recordings/detail/id/7948/autoplay/true/

“St. Louis Blues” is a great example of an old dixieland jazz band song that evolved over the years. In the recording provided in the above link, the instrumentation, while has elements of a traditional jazz band also still has southern sounds to it… likely from New Orleans. In the video below, the song is presented in a different style of blues and jazz, one that emerged later with artists like Bessie Smith, Louis Armstrong, and Sarah Vaughan.

Bibliography

Gottlieb, William, photographer. “Portrait of Sarah Vaughan in Café Society (Downtown).” Photograph. New York, N.Y.: Library of Congress Prints & Photographs. Aug. 1946. Online.

http://www.loc.gov/jukebox/recordings/detail/id/7948/autoplay/true/

Double Appropriation

Posted on March 2, 2015 by butler

“Chinaman, Chinaman
wash ‘em laundry all day
Chinaman, Chinaman
smoke ‘em pipe they say OR Wants his freedom that way
He’s got a little China gal
She love him all right,
He love little China gal, too,
So he sings to her ev’ry night
Sung Fong Lou, Sung Fong Lou
Listen to those chinese blues;
Honey gal, I’m crying to you
Won’t you open that door and let me in?
China man cries, baby, won’t you let me in
Chinaman feels his habit (OR lovin’) coming on again.
She cries to him “what’s the matter with you
I got those Ipshing, Hong Kong Ockaway Chinese Blues”

Recording of Irving Kaufman singing the Chinese Blues

Recording of Sousa’s Band playing the Chinese Blues

Written by Oscar Gardner, this song was not only published in a Treasury of the Blues by the “father of the blues,” W.C. Handy and recorded by George Gershwin, but also was, according to the critical notes by Abbe Niles, “the first and best by a white man, and had wide popularity in 1915.” [1] Niles’ notes also clarify that “Chinese Blues” falls under the category “blues-songs,” which do not follow the classical 12-bar blues form, but include songs that have any relation to the blues. “Chinese Blues” only fits the blues category in that it tells the story and emotion of the unrequited lover and there are a couple blue, or flatted notes, to the melody. We know that the early 20th century saw a trend of appropriating the blues to label any song that had ragtime rhythms, blue notes, and the longing emotion, even though the blues specifically came out of African American oppression.[2] In other words, Oscar Gardner, a white composer, tapped into the commercial blues genre in anyway he could to make money, and W.C. Handy benefitted by publishing it in his anthology of the blues.

As if this level of mis-labeling isn’t enough, the song also reflects racist stereotypes about the Chinese and their music. While the published music looks like an average ragtime or jazz arrangement, both period performances of it from the Library of Congress (Sousa’s band and Irving Kaufman) recordings emphasize an “oriental sound,” namely flutes slurring up to their notes and percussion including a gong and woodblocks. The lyrics “Sung, Fong, Lou,” though they don’t actually have a real translation in Chinese, also try to evoke the Orient. Additionally, in the lyrics depending on which version you look at, the Chinese are either washing laundry all day in order to get their freedom or suffering from an opium/other drug addiction. So, in sum “Chinese Blues” presents an example of a white composer using a genre traditional to African American oppression to subjugate the Chinese.

[1] Oscar Gardner, “Chinese Blues,” A Treasury of the Blues, ed. W.C. Handy, (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1926), 184.

[2] Elijah Wald, Escaping the Delta: Robert Johnson and the Invention of the Blues (New York: Harper Collins, 2004), Ch. 1, “What is Blues?” 1-13.

Music 345: Race, Identity, and Representation in American Music

Student Blogs and Library Exhibit Companion

Tag Archives: blues

Turner’s turn in the spotlight

The Problematic History of Ragtime

Bias in the Music Industry

Blues and Jazz: Popular Music or Folk Music?

W.C. Handy, Father of Blues

The Origins of Soul Music

Bessie Smith’s “Chicago Bound Blues,” the Chicago Defender, and the Great Migration

There’s “whiteness” in Bluegrass?

An important quote from Rhiannon Giddens

Another quote from Giddens

Here’s an interesting vinyl cover I found: ⁴

Blame It On The Blues

“The Memphis Blues” Becomes The Memphis Joke

W. C. Handy and the Blues

The Latin American Blues

Some Jazzy Blues… And Also Ragtime?

Racial Colorblindness, Privilege, and the Monterey Pop Festival

Mahalia Jackson, Developing Hybridity, and the Inescapable Political Machine

“Spider” John Koerner

Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Kay Starr, and the Relentless Rain (reign) of Systemic Racism

Mamie Smith’s “Crazy Blues”

Crazy Markets for Crazy Blues

Where is THAT in the blues?

W.C. Handy is the “Father of the Blues”

What Makes the Blues So Doggone Hard to Define

What’s a Stavin’ Chain?

Odetta Who?

A Muddy link from Blues to Rock

The good book says you’ve got to reap just what you sow

St.Louis Blues- A Song Represents “Sexuality”?

The Foxtrot: W.C. Handy, the Castles, and an Animal Obsession

Original Dixieland Jass Band

Hammering Out “Our Singing Country”

Bringing the Blues to the national stage: W.C. Handy

Image

From Blues to Jazz: Handy to Vaughan

Double Appropriation

An important quote from Rhiannon Giddens

Another quote from Giddens

Here’s an interesting vinyl cover I found: 4

W.C. Handy is the “Father of the Blues”

Here’s an interesting vinyl cover I found: ⁴