Sound Beat

Hughes Mearns wrote “Antigonish” in 1910. Composers Harold Adamson and Bernard Hanighen added the melody to the poem and crafted the song “The Little Man Who Wasn’t There” in 1939…and picked up songwriting credits for doing so. In July of that year, Glenn Miller, his orchestra, and Tex Beneke released this record on the Bluebird label.

The poem’s eerie lyrics have been used in films, tv, books and other songs, and were based on reports of a haunted house in Antigonish, Nova Scotia.

This episode was co-written by Hasmik Djoulakian (Joo-lock-ee-en), part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership.Photo credit: https://c1.staticflickr.com/1/142/356275548_063f0133fd_z.jpg?zz=1

It’s that age old tale of love and marriage…and money.

This episode was written in part by Syracuse University student Craig Kober as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership.

Considered one of the most influential saxophonists in history, Lester “Prez” Young succeeded Coleman Hawkins at the height of the swing era.

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He’s backed by his quintet on the piece, as he plays over the standard 12 bar blues. But much like his famous predecessor’s breakthrough recordings, the song lacks a clear lead melody, giving way to improvisational piano, and, of course, that sax.

Young got his nickname from Billie Holiday. It was Young who gave Billie her famous “Lady Day” moniker. She returned the favor, dubbing him “Prez”… as in the president of all saxophonists. And you’ll get no argument from us.

This episode was written in part by Syracuse University student Brent Kelley, as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership project. To learn more about the Partnership, click here!

Perry Bradford wrote Crazy Blues and the great Sophie Tucker was originally slated to record. When she was unable to make the session due to illness, Bradford convinced record execs to let jazz singer Mamie Smith fill in. Here she is on that OKEH label recording from 1920.

That last minute substitution would prove historic, marking the first time a black singer appeared on a blues record…one that sold over a million copies in just six months. Music historians credit the song’s success with opening the proverbial door for artists like Bessie Smith, Blind Lemon Jefferson and Ma Rainey, and, indeed, many, many more.

For more on the historic session,

Photo: “MamieSmith” by unknown. Original uploader was Emerson7 at en.wikipedia – Transferred from en.wikipedia; transferred to Commons by User:Darwinius using CommonsHelper.(Original text : This image has been downloaded at http://culan.org/main.htm). Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons – http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:MamieSmith.png#mediaviewer/File:MamieSmith.png

Sholom Secunda was a songwriter, not a fisherman. But he could tell you all about the “one that got away.”

When Secunda sold a catchy Yiddish tune to a publisher in 1932, he did so for $30, or about $500 today.  But when a-relatively-unknown trio of sisters released the song six years later, it went on to sell millions. Here are the Andrews Sisters in 1938 with “Bei Mir Bist Du Schon”

As you can hear, the only Yiddish that remained in the song was the title, though it was also printed as the German  “Bei Mir Bist Du Schon”. But anyway you say it, it translates as “To Me, You Are Beautiful.”  It put the Andrews Sisters on the map, and was the first gold record by a female vocal group.

And as for poor Sholom Secunda… Not all stories have happy endings...but this one does:

“Remarkably, Secunda was not bitter about losing out on more than $350,000 in royalties throughout the years. As he told The New York Times, ‘”It bothered everyone else more than it bothered me. I’ve been more interested in my symphonic music.”‘

Fortunately for Secunda, the story of his most popular composition has a happy ending. In 1961, the copyright on “Bei Mir Bist Du Schön” expired, reverting ownership to Secunda and Jacobs. They immediately signed a contract with Harms, Inc., the music publishing company that had acquired the rights from the Kammen brothers. This time Secunda negotiated for himself the full percentage of the composer’s royalties. Current copyright law holds that this will remain in effect until 75 years after his death.“

FROM www.dvrbs.com/swing/SholomSecunda-BeiMirBistDuSchoen.htm

Few today recognize the name Euday Bowman, yet during ragtime’s heyday Bowman’s 12th Street Rag was one of the most well recognized tunes around. He wrote the tune in 1897, and over the next half century, it made a lot of money for a lot of people…uh, Bowman not among them. Though “the Rag” was credited with reinvigorating ragtime, made famous by jazz legends like Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington, and featured in a Charlie Chaplin film, Bowman had sold the copyright in 1916 for a $100. It was a mistake he would regret the rest of his life, and, not to be overly dramatic, but it may have also killed him. In 1949, on a trip to New York to appeal for song royalties, he…caught pneumonia and died days later.

This episode was written in part by Andrew Troast, part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership.

When you think of early aviators, names like Wright, Earhart and Lindbergh probably spring to mind. But unless you’re a confessed aviaphile, names like Cole, Fitzmaurice and  von Hünefeld probably do not.

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When the three made an emergency landing in Greeley Island, Canada in 1928, they’d completed the first transatlantic flight, from East to West, mind you. It’s a much more difficult trip in that direction due to dangerous headwinds. As a matter of fact, Charles Lindbergh hopped a ride aboard the USS Memphis on the way home from his famed New York to Paris jaunt.

You’re listening to “They Landed Over Here From Over There” recorded by Arthur Fields that same year (1928).

Headed on a flight yourself? Load up your personal listening device with our podcast, available at iTunes.

Sound Beat is produced at the Belfer Audio Archive, Syracuse University Libraries.

Do not adjust your radio.  It’s actually supposed to sound like this.

You’re listening to Florence Foster Jenkins struggle her way through Lyadov’s The Musical Snuff Box. Jenkins was…just a bad singer.  But she was also determined to be one. She ignored the early advice of her family and her husband…who would, incidentally, become her ex husband.  (Maybe she sang in the shower?) 

Critics said she lacked pitch and rhythm.  Others said she flat out lacked ability.  But Jenkins didn’t listen to any of ‘em. In her own words “People may say I can’t sing, but no one can ever say I didn’t sing.” Indeed. She won out though, establishing a cult following, and even selling out Carnegie Hall!

Waltzing Matilda is one of Oz’s best loved songs and a common refrain at national sporting events. Peter Dawson is another Aussie favorite; the bass-baritone’s recording career spanned half a century. A Matilda, in this case, is a bag or sack, and to “Waltz Matilda” is to travel the countryside, or the bush, with a bag in tow.

The song involves a hobo, a sheep, and the authorities, though you might have a hard time deciphering the language. If that’s the case, we’re happy to help you out. Click here for a different version by Rolf Harris which contains a bit of explanation, and accordion, for good measure.

For listeners of a certain age, a song about King Tutankhamen immediately brings Steve Martin to the mind’s theater. His “King Tut” mock-reprimanded the commercialization of the Treasures of Tutankhamen exhibit that toured from 1976 to ’79.  But this one, “Old King Tut”, was recorded in 1923, the year AFTER the ancient Pharaoh’s tomb was found.

Howard Carter and company made the discovery at a time when many had abandoned the famous Valley of the Kings. Shortly after confirming the validity of their find, Carter sent a telegraph to the dig’s sponsor, Lord Carnarvon:

“At last have made wonderful discovery in Valley; a magnificent tomb with seals intact; re-covered same for your arrival; congratulations.”

But When Carnarvon arrived three weeks later, the team found that they’d not been the first visitors to the tomb:

“At first, their enthusiasm was somewhat dampened, for at the top left-hand corner of the blocking were signs of re-closure, suggesting that the tomb had been entered during antiquity. They began by clearing the descending corridor, which also showed signs of a robber’s efforts. By 4:00 pm on the afternoon of November 26th, the corridor was cleared and the team found a second door, again faced with plaster, stamped over with oval seals, and re-closed at the top left-hand corner. Not knowing what lay behind this doorway, Carter made a small hole in it and inserted a candle to test for foul gases. He then peered into the void beyond, reporting:

“At first I could see nothing, the hot air escaping from the chamber causing the candle flame to flicker, but presently, as my eyes grew accustomed to the light, details of the room within emerged slowly from the mist, strange animals, statues, and gold – everywhere the glint of gold”.”

Image: Howard Carter  in Tutankhamen’s tomb, photographed by Harry Burton, created in 1922. The image is in the public domain.