Sound Beat

Sound Beat

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Sound Beat episodes

  • Oh, Shenandoah

     “Shenandoah” or “Oh, Shenandoah” as it is sometimes referred to, is an early American folk song and sea shanty. Popular with sailors as early as the 1880s, the song is an ode to the Shenandoah River Valley, and its river. It’s a tributary of the Potomac, and runs through Virginia and West Virginia. The valley’s fertile lands made it a top-notch settling place, and, apparently, a swell spot for a folk tune. Now, according to which version of the song you’re listening to, the narrator is a Confederate soldier pining for home, a roving trader in love with an Indian chief’s daughter, or, well, someone else.  For a more detailed look at the song check out our blog.

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  • I’m Going to Vote For a Democrat!

    That’s Stewart’s voice you hear, in a manner of speaking. In addition to his singing career, Stewart was a comedian, leading to a host of characters he employed. This is one of them, Yogi Yorgesson, a mystical swede who prognosticated from behind an overturned fishbowl. He didn’t, apparently, foresee a tepid audience response, and the character soon morphed to accentuate the Yorgesson over the “Yogi”.

    You’ve been listening to I’m Going to Vote For a Democrat. We’re fair and balanced here at Sound Beat: listen to the flip side of this record, I’m Going to Vote Republican, at soundbeat.org.

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  • I’m Going to Vote For a Republican!

    This record was cut in 1952, at the heightening of Cold War sensitivity. The candidates were Republican Dwight D. Eisenhower and Democrat Adlai Stevenson. Incumbent Harry Truman was expected to get the democratic nomination, but the lumps he’d taken over the Korean War loomed large in the public mindset. Eisenhower capitalized on this, and his own decorated military background. He promised, if elected, he’d go to Korea and end the war himself.

    It worked. The Eisenhower/Nixon ticket mopped the floor with Stevenson/Sparkman, winning 39 of the 48 states.

    What was the greatest Presidential drubbing of all time? The election of 1936.

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  • American Archives Month: We Interrupt This Program….

    In 1967, WSYR in Syracuse, NY issued the following message, an interruption to their scheduled broadcast:

    You’re on the Sound Beat.

    “We interrupt this program. The Office of Civil Defense has issued the following message: This is an attack warning. Repeat. This is an attack warning. Attack warning means that an actual attack against this country has been detected and that protective actions should be taken. Important instructions will follow in 30 seconds.”

    Ok, quickly then…This recording comes to us from the WSYR collection at the Special Collection Research Center here at the Syracuse University Libraries. Much like the famed Mercury Theatre on the Air “The War of the Worlds” Halloween broadcast of 1938, this warning was merely a test and did not reflect an actual state of emergency. In both cases, raising alarm, even false alarm, incited people to pay attention and take notice in a way that they might not have otherwise.

    “This station has interrupted its regularly scheduled programming at the request of the United States Government to participate in the Emergency Broadcast System serving Operational Area G, including Onondaga, Cayuga…”

    This is a small excerpt of the excellent SCRC Blog, edited by Grace Wagner. All this week they’re celebrating American Archives month at library-blog.syr.edu/scrc/.

    2 min
  • I Got it Bad

    So chances are you’ve felt neglected by someone you care about. You love them with all your heart and they just take you for granted. Well nobody seems to know your pain like Ella Fitzgerald in her rendition of “I Got it Bad (And That Ain’t Good).”

    Paul Francis Webster also knew that pain; he wrote the lyrics, and Duke Ellington the music, in 1941. Ella recorded it that year on Decca Records. Despite a friendship that spanned decades, the “First Lady of Song” and Duke only collaborated a few times, and only late in their careers.

    This episode was co-written by Syracuse University student Megala Sankrith as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership.

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  • Billie’s Blues

    You’re listening to “Gloomy Sunday” recorded by Billie Holiday in 1941. It goes by another title as well, “The Hungarian Suicide Song”. Written by Rezső Seress and László Jávor , the song was linked to a slew of suicides in Hungary. Urban legend or not, the intrigue surrounding the song translated into sales. Still, the song was met with opposition by stations all over the world. Some would only play instrumental versions of the song, and Hungary banned its play outright.

    Seress actually committed suicide himself in 1968. His obituary in The New York Times claimed that he ” complained that the success of “Gloomy Sunday” actually increased his unhappiness, because he knew he would never be able to write a second hit.”

     

     

     

     

    2 min
  • How High the Moon

    You’re listening to Les Paul and Mary Ford with How High the Moon from 1951, and…

    You’re on the Sound Beat.

    ‘How High the Moon’ wasn’t a new song when Les Paul and Mary Ford recorded it. As a matter of fact the Les Paul Trio recorded a version on a V-Disc  (records made expressly for military personnel) in November, 1945.

    So…how the high the moon? Depends on the time of year. During summer the tilt of the Earth’s axis points us toward the Sun during the day, so at night we are tilted away from the Moon, making it  lower in the sky. In the winter, reverse it: we are tilted toward the Moon at night, making it higher.

    Listen to more Moon Month episodes right now!

    Image credit: NASA

    Photographed by an Expedition 28 crew member aboard the International Space Station, this image shows the moon at center, with the limb of Earth near the bottom transitioning into the orange-colored troposphere, the lowest and most dense portion of the Earth’s atmosphere. The troposphere ends abruptly at the tropopause, which appears in the image as the sharp boundary between the orange- and blue- colored atmosphere. The silvery-blue noctilucent clouds extend far above the Earth’s troposphere.

     

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  • Casey At the Bat…How About That?!

     

    Mel Allen is perhaps the most renowned broadcaster in baseball history.  And he got his big break by way of hard work, sure…tireless pursuit of his goal, yes … but also, a timely mispronunciation. You see, sponsors exerted a stronghold on the booth in those days. When then-Yankees-broadcaster Garnett Marks said “Ovary soap” instead of “Ivory”, not once but twice, the Yankees washed their hands of him. In stepped Mel Allen, and he’d remain as Yankees broadcaster for a quarter century. He’d give Joe DiMaggio his “Joltin’ Joe” moniker, coin the home run phrase “going, going, gone” and , of course, he gave us “How About That?”

     

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  • The Peat Bog Soldiers

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2-hTItnpuU

    From Wikipedia:

    Die MoorsoldatenWohin auch das Auge blicket.
    Moor und Heide nur ringsum.
    Vogelsang uns nicht erquicket.
    Eichen stehen kahl und krumm.

    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
    und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.
    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
    und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

    Auf und nieder geh´n die Posten,

    keiner, keiner kann hindurch.
    Flucht wird nur das Leben kosten,
    vierfach ist umzäunt die Burg.

    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
    und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.
    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
    und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

    Doch für uns gibt es kein Klagen,

    ewig kann nicht Winter sein,
    einmal werden froh wir sagen:
    Heimat du bist wieder mein.

    Dann zieh´n die Moorsoldaten
    nicht mehr mit dem Spaten ins Moor.
    Dann zieh´n die Moorsoldaten
    nicht mehr mit dem Spaten ins Moor
    Peat Bog SoldiersFar and wide as the eye can wander,
    Heath and bog are everywhere.
    Not a bird sings out to cheer us.
    Oaks are standing gaunt and bare.

    We are the peat bog soldiers,
    Marching with our spades to the moor.
    We are the peat bog soldiers,
    Marching with our spades to the moor.

    Up and down the guards are marching,

    No one, no one can get through.
    Flight would mean a sure death facing,
    Guns and barbed wire block our view.

    We are the peat bog soldiers,
    Marching with our spades to the moor.
    We are the peat bog soldiers,
    Marching with our spades to the moor.

    But for us there is no complaining,

    Winter will in time be past.
    One day we shall rise rejoicing.
    Homeland, dear, you’re mine at last.

    No more the peat bog soldiers
    Will march with our spades to the moor.
    No more the peat bog soldiers
    Will march with our spades to the moor.
    The full version

    For completeness, here is the full six-verse German version, together with a literal English translation.

    Die MoorsoldatenWohin auch das Auge blicket.
    Moor und Heide nur ringsum.
    Vogelsang uns nicht erquicket.
    Eichen stehen kahl und krumm.

    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
    und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.
    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
    und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

    Hier in dieser öden Heide

    ist das Lager aufgebaut,
    wo wir fern von jeder Freude
    hinter Stacheldraht verstaut.

    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten etc

    Morgens ziehen die Kolonnen

    in das Moor zur Arbeit hin.
    Graben bei dem Brand der Sonne,
    doch zur Heimat steht der Sinn.

    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten etc

    Heimwärts, heimwärts jeder sehnet,

    zu den Eltern, Weib und Kind.
    Manche Brust ein Seufzer dehnet,
    weil wir hier gefangen sind.

    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten etc

    Auf und nieder geh´n die Posten,

    keiner, keiner kann hindurch.
    Flucht wird nur das Leben kosten,
    vierfach ist umzäunt die Burg.

    Wir sind die Moorsoldaten etc

    Doch für uns gibt es kein Klagen,

    ewig kann nicht Winter sein,
    einmal werden froh wir sagen:
    Heimat du bist wieder mein.

    Dann zieh´n die Moorsoldaten
    nicht mehr mit dem Spaten ins Moor.
    Dann zieh´n die Moorsoldaten
    nicht mehr mit dem Spaten ins Moor
    Literal translationWherever the eye watches
    Bog and heath all around
    No chirping of birds entertains us
    Oaks are standing bare and crooked

    We are the bog soldiers
    And we are marching with our spade; into the bog
    We are Bog soldiers
    And we are marching with our spade; into the bog

    Here inside this barren marshland

    the camp is built up,
    Where we are, far from any joy,
    stowed away behind barbed wire.

    We are the bog soldiers etc

    In the morning, all of us

    march towards our work.
    The we dig under the searing sun,
    But our mind yearns toward our home.

    We are the bog soldiers etc

    Homeward, homeward everyone yearns

    to the parents, wife and children,
    some chests are widened by a sigh,
    because we are caught in here.

    We are the bog soldiers etc

    Up and down the guards are walking

    Nobody, nobody can get through.
    Escape would only cost your life
    Four fences secure the castle.

    We are the bog soldiers etc

    But for us there is no complaining,

    It can’t be an endless winter.
    One day we’ll say happily:
    “Home! You are mine again!”.

    Then will the bog soldiers
    march no more with the spades
    to the bog.
    Then will the bog soldiers
    march no more with the spades
    to the bog.
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  • Blue Moon
    There are a couple different definitions for a blue moon, both of them kind of rare, and neither of them have to do with color of any sort.
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