Sound Beat

Store owner Morton Savada had a policy of never selling the last copy of a recording, which we collectors can identify with. Morton’s son Eli sai “He was running a business, but he knew he had an important archive here and he had a responsibility to maintain it.” After 30 years in business, and distinguishing itself as a landmark for collectors worldwide, Records Revisited closed. The archive his son spoke of, roughly 200,000 records, was boxed and shipped in 2008 to….Syracuse University. The gift ensures the collection’s preservation for  future researchers. And…it plays a role in a certain radio show of which you may be aware… You’re listening to Drum Boogie by Gene Krupa, an OKEH 78 from 1941, and one of the last ever played at Records Revisited.

“A dark presence enters the ship. The ominous commander of the Imperial Forces, Darth Vader: tall and threatening in his flowing black cape, and a face forever masked by a foreboding metal breath screen. Darth Vader, who moves forever in a cloud of awesome evil.” One of the best, (eh, worst?) baddies of all time. You’re on the Sound Beat. “Vader grips the rebel’s throat. “”If this is a councilor’s ship then where is the Ambassador?”” Would have been nice to play Vader’s theme, the famous Imperial March…. Thing is, John Williams hadn’t composed it yet. It first appeared, courtesy of the London Symphony Orchestra, in the original trilogy’s second film, the Empire Strikes Back. James Earl Jones famously voiced the character, and almost as famously wasn’t credited for the first two films. He’d claim at the time that his work was just “special effects”…something, I don’t know, VOICE ACTORS might disagree with. You’re listening to “The Story of Star Wars”, a 20th Century Fox LP from 1977. Sound Beat is produced at the Belfer Audio Archive, Syracuse University Libraries. Image courtesy of Roger Schultz, used under Creative Commons license.

Well, unless you’re in an ice cave on Hoth, you probably recognize this one. It’s “The Story of Star Wars” and… You’re on the Sound Beat. Fall in love with a movie nowadays, you can watch it pretty much whenever you want; ask any parent of a Frozen fan. WHEN-EV-ER. But for a rabid Star Wars fan in 1977, your options were limited. You went to the movies, or you bought this, a 20th Century Fox LP. It featured dialogue and sound effects from the film, and was narrated by Roscoe Lee Browne. The record would go as gold as C-3PO. Image created by Andrew Forgrave, used under Creative Commons license.

The song you hear ”Let Me Call You Sweetheart” by Bing Crosby with Georgie Stoll and His Orchestra was recorded in 1934 on the Decca label. You’re on the Sound Beat. “Let Me Call You Sweetheart“ was originally written by Leo Freidman and Beth Slater Whinston in 1910. The song was a big hit for Author Clough in May 1911 and a #1 hit for Henry Burr and the Peerless Quartet in November 1911 And this version is still popular today. In fact “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” by Bing Crosby was #3 on Apple Music’s top 200 jazz songs in Bolivia on January 27 2019. This episode was written by Ian Coe. Artwork by Omari Odom. Watch a video of their work at Let Me Call You Sweetheart — Sound Beat – Syracuse University Videos

The mythical Sirens have long been depicted as tantalizing, seductive, banes to the existence of accursed sailors, enchanted by their fatal song.  The Greeks had them as winged maidens, but somewhere along the way, the meaning shifted: in most European languages, the word Siren translates as “mermaid”. You’re listening to the Green Brothers Novelty band with “Siren of the South Sea”. If the smell of fresh-brewed coffee renders you helpless, you may have run into Melusina today. Starbucks has used the half-woman, half water-serpent’s likeness since 1971, based on a Norse woodcut. Why the nautical theme? Starbuck was the name of Captain Ahab’s first mate in Moby Dick.

Like Slim Gaillard said, “The Atomic Cocktail” is “the drink that you don’t pour”…until Las Vegas bartenders made it one. You see, in 1951, the government announced Nevada would be home to new bombing test sites. There was, understandably, heightened tension in the area…but then, Vegas knows a thing or two about relieving tension. Hotels and bars embraced the plans and the Atomic Cocktail was born. Want to make your own? (info courtesy of Esquire Magazine) Just take:   1 1/2 ounces vodka 1 1/2 ounces brandy 1 teaspoon sherry 1 1/2 ounces Brut  champagne Stir the vodka, brandy, and sherry well with cracked ice, then strain into  a chilled cocktail glass and add 1 1/2 to 2 ounces cold brut champagne. Garnish  with plastic three-eyed fish from Simpsons playset. Note: If you use the  sweeter Spanish brandy, opt for the drier Amontillado sherry. Conversely, if you  use the (dry) cognac, choose the (sweet) Oloroso. We strive for balance in all  stirs.  

You’re listening to “The Airplane” from an RCA Victor Youth Series 78 entitled “LET’S PLAY”. It was produced by Helen Myers in 1946. The year before that, New York mayor Fiorello Laguardia left office. One of his biggest achievements, the development of the airport that would bear his name, came about as the result of, well, a bit of a hissy fit. The mayor had been sold a ticket to “New York”, which was at the time serviced by Newark Airport. Indignant, he refused to step on to Jersey soil and demanded to be flown to Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn, and held an impromptu press conference proclaiming New York City’s need for an airport. In short, it worked, and construction began in 1939. Image: unknown author, courtesy of U.S. National Archives. Aerial view of the tip of Manhattan, New York, United States ca. 1931. Note that the Cities Service Building (now known as the American International Building), which would become lower Manhattan’s tallest building in 1932, is only partially completed.

On today’s episode we’re talking electronic music…and the importance of a thorough resume. You’re on the Sound Beat. Miklos Rosza had long considered using electronic music in a film. He got his chance when director Alfred Hitchcock and producer David O. Selznick approached him about scoring 1945’s Spellbound. Wanting to add an atmospheric, contemplative air to the piece, he settled on the theremin. Here’s a quote from Dr. Samuel Hoffmann. “I put down theremin on my card…without thinking much about it. When Miklos Rozsa thought of using a theremin in his score for Spellbound he called the union to see if any players were available. I was the only one listed at that time who could read music.” Before Rozsa’s call, Hoffmann was a practicing podiatrist in the Hollywood area. After the score won an Oscar, Hoffman and the theremin would feature in films like “The Day the Earth Stood Still”, “It Came from Outer Space” and more…see the whole list right now at soundbeat.org. Sound Beat is produced at the Belfer Audio Archive, Syracuse University Libraries. I’m Brett Barry. Link to Hoffman’s discography

Why did Governor Dewitt Clinton build a giant ditch across New York state? To get to the other side. From the time the first shovel went into the ground in 1817, critics blasted the Erie Canal project, dubbing it Clinton’s Ditch. But it would go down in history as an engineering marvel. When finished, it stretched three hundred and sixty three miles across New York, from : (lyrics “Albany to Buffalo”) This is Low Bridge! Everybody Down, sung by Edward Meeker in a wax cylinder recording from 1913. The Canal forever changed shipping in the Northeast, cutting transportation costs a whopping ninety percent. It also helped open a steady trade route with the Midwest, turning a seed of a downstate port town into the Big Apple. Mules like Old Sal were the early stars of the canal system, but steam powered barges rendered them obsolete by the end of the 19th century.

The American B-24 Bomber Lady Be Good departed a Libyan Air Base on a bombing raid in April 1943.  She did so into a sandstorm, and disappeared for 15 years. World War II raged, and then ended. Still, the whereabouts of the Lady Be Good remained unknown. It was thought the men had crashed into the Mediterranean, but in 1958 the nearly-intact bomber was found over 400 miles inland. Remains of 8 of the 9 crew members were found, some over a hundred miles north of the crash site. And, because everyone seemed to back then, they kept journals of their trek. To read excerpts, click to visit http://ladybegood.net, an excellent, and exhaustive site.

You’re listening to the Carter Family’s rendition of “Honey in the Rock”, a Coral Record from 1949, and you’re on the Sound Beat. Frederick A. Graves originally wrote the song in 1895, but his version was a bit, well, heavy…A.P. Carter then rewrote it in 1937 to better fit the Carter Family’s repertoire. In short, he focused more on the “honey and the salvation” than the” blood and the sins”. Probably a good move, sales-wise. The Carter Family recorded for over 30 years, helping to create and then redefine country music, and were inducted into its Hall of Fame in 1970. This episode was co-written by Syracuse University Honors student Jack McCormack, part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership. Learn how students are interacting with historic sound right now at Soundbeat.org

You’re listening to one of the most distinctive signature sounds in all of recorded music, and… You’re on the Sound Beat. That telltale whoop belongs to Sonny Terry, one of the most influential harmonica players of all time. Blind, but not from birth, Terry lost his sight one eye at a time, first in early childhood, and the second in his late teens. He recorded “Whoopin’ the Blues” with Brownie McGhee in 1947 for Capitol Records. The Terry/McGhee partnership was one of the most prolific and is one of the most revered in blues history. Want to see them in action? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34FWANCq6_0 Photo credit: Ian Chadwick

Holiday was born Eleanora Fagan, and nicknamed Lady Day. This 1946 recording of “Big Stuff” represents something of an anomaly in her career. It emerged only multiple, vigorous recording sessions. Her difficulties in the studio seemed to mirror those in her personal life, as Holiday was struggling with drug and alcohol abuse.   The song itself was composed by Leonard Bernstein for his 1944 ballet “Fancy Free”. Once Holliday’s version was released, it was featured in the opening scene, playing from a juxebox.  This episode was written in part by Syracuse University student Sarah Detweiler, as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership project. To learn more about the Partnership, click here!

For those who celebrate it, the big day is here. Many parents are bleary-eyed and sipping coffee while the kids riot in merry madness. But short as it was, your night was probably more restful than old Ebenezer Scrooge’s. Our gift to you: Scrooge’s Awakening, an Edison Blue Amberol cylinder released in 1914.   And for your stocking: listen to the whole thing right now, courtesy of the Belfer Cylinders Digital Connection. Jim Image: “Stave Four: The Last of the Spirits”, artist Fred Barnard, scanned by Philip V. Allingham” “Stave Four”  

The story goes like this: Fats Waller, the great stride pianist, is playing in a club when he spots Art Tatum walk through the door. Waller stops, turns to the audience and announces: “I just play the piano, but God is in the house tonight.” Perhaps no pianist before or since has equaled Tatum’s technical and rhythmic mastery, harmonic imagination, and sheer ability to awe. Nearly blind since childhood, his trademark was the reworking of popular standards into solo showpieces. As was the case with his version of Cole Porter’s “Begin The Beguine”, recorded in 1940. This episode was written in part by Syracuse University student Ryan Lu, as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership project. To learn more about the program, visit soundbeat.org.

Niccolo Paganini was the Jim Morrison of his day. He partied, drove the ladies wild, and was even rumored to have dabbled in the occult. Paganini was a violin virtuoso. He could play three octaves across four strings. Ask your local fiddler; that’s all but impossible. Paganini’s seemingly supernatural talents made him a celebrity, but also inspired rumors that he’d made a pact with the devil. There’s another theory out there, and this one’s a bit more scientific.  Some experts believe he had Marfan Syndrome. This connective tissue disorder can result in longer arms, longer fingers … and hyper flexible hands. You’ve been listening to Paganini’s Caprice no. 24, recorded in 1920 by Jascha Heifetz, another great master of the instrument. Sound Beat is produced at the Belfer Audio Archive, Syracuse University Library.

It’s that age old tale of love and marriage…and money. You’re listening to the Opening Overture of Franz Lehar’s 1910 operetta Der Graf von Luxemburg. We are often our own harshest critics; before it’s debut, Lehar called the piece ‘Sloppy work, completely useless.’ Despite his opinion, the play ran for 299 straight performances in its original run. The story tells of a bankrupt playboy count, approached by a Russian prince with a…semi-indecent proposal. He’ll pay the Count’s debts if the Count agrees to marry the object of his affection. Alas, she is but a lowly opera singer, and beneath his marrying station. The marriage would be a sham, (but, really, what marriage isn’t? Sorry…happy anniversary, honey.)  Anyway, the move would make her royalty, a divorce would make her single, and the Prince would make her his wife. How could it possibly go wrong? Find out right here.   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. You’re on the Sound Beat 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!  

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.

In the 1920s and 30s, boxing was one of the most popular sports in the country.  It and other forms of entertainment provided cheerful moments of respite from the gloom the Depression cast over the nation. In the movies and on radio, the public clamored for heroes like Superman and the Lone Ranger. But in the boxing ring, James Braddock proved himself the real life equivalent. After some inopportune losses and injuries, his career floundered, until a winning streak put him in the ring with Max Baer, the Heavyweight Champion of the World on June 13, 1935.  If you haven’t seen Ron Howard’s film…spoiler alert: He wins. You’ve been listening to the Fontane Sisters with “The Cinderella Work Song”. Want to see that championship bout? Click away.

You’re listening to “the Cajun national anthem”, sung and…fiddled…by Harry Choates on a Modern Music 78, and… You’re on the Sound Beat. Choates initially recorded “Jole Blon” (translated as “pretty blonde”) in 1946 for Gold Star records. It served as the B side, but when a Houston-area DJ played it instead of the A side, Basile Waltz, the rendition of the much-loved Cajun classic became a big hit. It was the first one for Gold Star records, and so big in fact that the recording was licensed to Modern Music for distribution. In an all-too-common happening in the world of music, Choates didn’t see much of anything from the sales of the record. His payment, according to legend: 100 dollars and bottle of whiskey.   Photo: Wally Gobetz – A Harry Choates 78 from an exhibit at Barbara Jordan Terminal at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport https://www.flickr.com/photos/wallyg/8028244820/  

You’re listening to Edward M. Favor who recorded Mary and the Lamb to cylinder in 1892. But…it wasn’t the first recording of the poem…as a matter of fact, Edison himself used the first couplet as the first test recording on his phonograph invention, in 1877. The famous nursery rhyme was published in 1830, written by New Hampshire schoolteacher Sarah Hale. The inspiration reportedly came from a student who, you guessed it, regularly brought a pet lamb to her schoolhouse. And you thought students with cellphones were distracting. Favor was, perhaps obviously, one of the first recording stars, and a popular vaudeville act. He was known for classics of the time like “Daisy Bell” and, ahem, “Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder?”  Sarah Hale is perhaps the driving motivator behind our celebration of Thanksgiving. Check out more right here. Sound Beat is produced at the Belfer Audio Archive, Syracuse University Library. I’m Brett Barry.

Ledbetter, better known as Leadbelly, was twice convicted: once for trying to kill a man, and once for following through with it.  After the first, he wrote a song of appeal to the governor of Texas, Pat Neff. Neff, incidentally, had vowed never to grant a pardon as governor.  He did though, in 1925, but he might not have bothered. Less than 5 years later, Ledbetter committed his second crime. And, somewhat unbelievably, received another pardon, this one from Governor O.K. Allen. Here he is with Gallis Pole from 1939. In the song, a condemned woman pleads for her life, asking family and friends for bribes in order to escape hanging. There are many variations on the same theme…in some she escapes, and in some, the money never comes. The tune got Led Zeppelin in a bit of hot water, as claims were made that the supergroup plagiarized Ledbetter on their version. While he is listed as the songwriter on some of his releases, it’s more accurately listed on others as “Traditional”. On Led Zeppelin III, this song is credited as “Traditional, arr. Page/Plant”. Page himself acknowledged both Leadbelly and Fred Gerlach as sources of inspiration. What do you think? Get the Led out right here.

You’re listening to Big Maceo, a pioneer of Chicago Blues, and you’re on the Sound Beat. Big Maceo, also known as Maceo Merriweather, recorded Worried Life Blues in 1941. It was released by Bluebird Records. He’s accompanied by the legendary Tampa Red on guitar. As is often the case, this traditional song was inspired by an earlier one, Someday Baby Blues, by Sleepy John Estes in 1935. It’s got more of a country blues feel, as opposed to the Chicago Blues that Big Maceo was known for. His moderate-tempo eight-bar blues style helped transform the blues, moving towards that “Chicago urban” style, with a more sophisticated improvisation, using the piano as his main instrument. This episode was co-written by Syracuse University student Jacqueline Attia as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership.http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/1/1d/Worried_Life_Blues_single_cover.jpg

Two strums…two strums were all it took to make music history. An electric pulse hits the listeners’ ears twice. Let’s hear it again:  Few people at the time had heard the sound recorded. The year was 1938, and when trombonist and guitarist Eddie Durham recorded his arrangement of “Moten Swing” with the Kansas City Five, it was one of the first jazz recordings made with instrument. But that wasn’t the end of Durham’s progressive ways.; He also organized one of the first all-female orchestras. And he invented the “non-pressure” technique; a way of playing the trombone without too much pressure on the lips, as to not leave behind a mark after playing. This episode was written in part by Syracuse University students Seth Kluk-Barany and Meghan Mary Gibbs as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership. For more on the SBCP, go to soundbeat.org right now. Sound Beat is produced at the Belfer Audio Archive, Syracuse University Library. I’m Brett Barry.  

Most Atomic-era records seem to achieve, or at least attempt, a bit of humanistic fraternity…a “we’re all in this together” sort-of-vibe. Not so with this decidedly un-P.C. tune. It recounts the attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, with mention of the “cruel old Japs” and naming the bomb “the answer to our fighting boy’s prayers.” It was one of the earliest atomic-era records, recorded by Karl and Harty on December 4th, 1945.

Fred Astaire was one of the greatest film stars and dancers of all time, but there was only one partner who really filled his dance card. The 1936 film “Swing Time” featured Ginger Rogers and Astaire.  Hardly remarkable in itself, as it was one of their ten films for RCA. This tune though, written by Jerome Kerns and Dorothy Fields, won an Oscar for Best Original song. Here’s Fred Astaire, with “The Way You Look Tonight”. And how did Astaire himself feel about his partner? “After a while everyone else who danced with me looked wrong.” Some believe Astaire’s finest dancing performance came from the film, during the eponymously-titled “Swing Time” number. But judge for yourself…

  Alright, excuse us for a bit of poetic license. The swimsuit had more to do with atomic bombs than rockets. The Bikini Atoll is a small island chain in the South Pacific. In July of 1946 it served as an atomic test site, and the symbol of a dawning age.  The awesome and terrifying display of power had been implanted in the social consciousness…extending even to the fashion world. That summer, two different two-pieces hit French beaches. Jacques Heim named his the “Atome”, (French word for atom, the smallest-known particle of matter) He proclaimed it “the smallest bathing suit in the world.” But only weeks later, Louis Reard introduced his own, billing it “smaller than the smallest bathing suit in the world.” And since he had “split the Atome”, he went with the catchy-sounding “Bikini”. You’ve been listening to Dexter Gordon with “Bikini Blues”. There’s a great story behind the song’s name…find out more at soundbeat.org

Buschmann gets credit for inventing the harmonica and, according to some experts, the accordion.  (Imagine your neighbor learning the instruments, now imagine them inventing both). The accordion is actually a member of the harmonica family, and is popular with street performers, polka bands, and of course, Weird Al Yankovic. You’re listening to 1915’s NY Blues by one of the first stars of the instrument, Pietro Frosini. He recorded for both Edison and Victor in the early 1900’s, and became known as much for his compositions as his playing. So much so that there’s a Pietro Frosini organization in Sweden, and YOU can be a member. Click right here to find out how.

With high energy shows, slightly tawdry lyrics and a style that blended Dixieland, blues and jazz, the Harlem Hamfats were just… born at the wrong time. You’re listening to the ironically named Harlem Hamfats in 1936. First of all, no one in the band was from anywhere even close to New York. And hamfat is a low-cost filler used in cooking recipes…a cheap substitute. These hamfats were Grade A, though.  They played party music, with many of their songs about drinking, dancing…and going to town. Critics didn’t love the Hamfats, and those lyrics didn’t help their commercial appeal. They were perhaps a bit rock and roll for the thirties, but they certainly had some devoted followers…a couple of fellas by the names of Chuck Berry and Jimmy Page. Two of the Hamfats are buried right next to each other. Why? Joe and Charlie McCoy, the band’s founders, were brothers. Find out more right here

This song is a bridge of sorts between two others. It started with Helen Hume’s Be-Baba-Leba, recorded in 1945. From there, the lyrics changed into the “Hey! Baba-Re-Bop” that you hear…right here: Gene Vincent and his Blue Caps put their twist on the lyrics with “Be-Bop-a-Lula” in 1956. The biggest hit of the three: you guessed it..this one, which stayed atop the R and B charts for 16 weeks. You’ve got to check out this video . It’s Lionel in 1982 with a comedy legend on drums and some absolutely amazing 80’s crowd dancing.

When British army bandmaster Lieutenant FJ Ricketts was stationed at Fort George in Scotland, he…did as the Scots do, and played a fair amount of golf. The story goes that he came across a certain nicknamed colonel who, rather than yell “Fore” to warn others of his wayward shots, would whistle…a descending minor third. It stuck in Rickett’s mind like a high-lob to a soft green, and the “Colonel Bogey March” was born, with that whistle… …serving as the opening line to the melody. The march would be published in 1914 and had already sold millions by the time it was famously included in “Bridge on the River Kwai” in 1957. Which…didn’t hurt sales one bit.   Photo: [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

So impressed was Beethoven that when he composed his Symphony Number 3 in E Flat Major, he dubbed it “Bonaparte”. But as the story goes, he became enraged when Napoleon named himself Emperor of the French. Scratching out the title, he renamed it “Eroica”, Italian for “heroic”. You’re listening to Arturo Toscanini conducting the NBC Symphony Orchestra in a Victor recording from 1950. Time seems to heal all wounds though…when Napoleon died in exile in the early 1820’s, Beethoven remarked that he had “already composed the proper music for that catastrophe”, a nod to the Symphony that once bore the man’s name. Fans of historical trivia, and Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, remember Napoleon as a little guy. (Napoleon was 5’6, Beethoven 5’5).

Valentine’s Day is the one day of the year where even the most restrained of suitors demonstrate their affection, wearing their hearts on their sleeves, if you will. Hey, where does that saying come from, I wonder? (Excellent segue.) Some say it comes from medieval Valentine’s Day celebrations. A town’s young and available singles (sorry, maidens and bachelors) would draw names to select their Valentine, and would pin, or whatever the medieval equivalent of a pin was) to their sleeve, for all to see. Think Hallmark invented the holiday? Blame Henry the VIII  who made it official in 1537, and the exchange of gifts began then. It’s the biggest day of the year for florists, accounting for about 1/3 of their annual business. And about 3% of Americans will buy Valentines gifts for…their pets. So… yeah. Why not wear your love for archived music on your proverbial sleeve?. Like us on Facebook and follow us at onthesoundbeat on Twitter

Johnny Mercer first made his way to New York with dreams of becoming an actor. But he’d catch on as a singer and songwriter, his first break coming during a “Youth of America” audition. Conductor Paul Whiteman picked Mercer to perform with his Orchestra on NBC radio. Years later, Mercer, Glen Wallichs and Buddy DeSylva started up a little outfit called Liberty Records. In 1942, it would become Capitol, and Wallichs would become the first music promoter. It was his idea to send free demo records to stations. It became industry standard…not to mention the best part of working at a radio station. You’ve been listening to the first Capitol Records Release, record 101-A. And as fate would have it, it’s none other than Paul Whiteman and his Orchestra. Get on the beat at your convenience. Download our podcast at iTunes!

Arthur Sullivan was one of Britain’s most important composers, one half of a little theatrical team known as Gilbert and Sullivan. But in his own words: “I have composed much music since then, but have never written a second Lost Chord.” Arthur Sullivan composed The Lost Chord in 1877, at the bedside of his dying brother. Sullivan was known for his partnership with W.S. Gilbert, of course, as well as hymns like “Onward Christian Soldier”. But The Lost Chord would remain his favorite, as well as one of his most enduring compositions. You’re listening to the sounds of the Mormon Tabernacle Organ, played by Edward Kimball in 1927. The organ Mr. Kimball played isn’t in use anymore, but the “new” Salt Lake Tabernacle Organ, built in 1948, retained some of the old pipes. Good thing, as it’s made up of more than 11,000 pipes in 206 rows, known as “ranks”. You’ve got to see this thing to believe it. And you can, right here.

You’re listening to Ralph Young and the Ray Charles Singers with The Legend of Wyatt Earp, a 1955 Decca 78. The mark of authenticity Earp brought to a film set in the 20’s must have been invaluable. Especially to the young actor who befriended him, fetching cups of coffee in exchange for firsthand tales of the West from one of its central figures. Marion Morrison credited his acting persona, down to his style of walk and trademark drawl to those interactions with Earp. And if you don’t know Marion Morrison’s trademark drawl, well that’s because he changed his name to John Wayne for his first leading role in the 1930 Fox Studios film “The Big Trail”. Image: A picture of a pistol left in Juneau, Alaska by Wyatt Earp, who was on his way to Nome, Alaska. It is on display at the Red Dog Saloon in Juneau. and the photograph is in the public domain.

You’re listening to Johannes Brahms and the Banda de Estado Mayor de Mexico. That’s right, a Hungarian danza by a Mexican banda. You’re on the Sound Beat. Brahms composed 21 danzas, basing them on Hungarian folk themes. Mostly…in fact, he thought this one, number 5, was based on a folk song, but that song turned out it to be an original composition by Béla Kéler. You may have heard it in the Charlie Chaplin film “The Great Dictator”, in which Chaplin shaves a man to the tune. Brahms himself was cleanshaven until his mid-30’s. And, by the way, described as “Herculean”. Though A late-comer to the no-shave game, he ended up with a magnificent specimen towards the end.  

One of the most revered and renowned recordings in music history. You’re listening to Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground by Blind Willie Johnson. Music historians cite the song as a retelling of Christ’s crucifixion. Hard to be completely sure, though, with Johnson’s characteristic humming, and moaning in place of lyrics. There’s a parallel to be drawn between the song and Johnson’s life. He was blinded as a boy, during a domestic dispute, and though a huge influence in both Gospel and the Blues, he’d remain penniless much of his life. So much so that when his house burned to the ground in 1945, he stayed put.  Sleeping on a wet bed in dry heat will get you malaria, and that’s what killed Blind Willie Johnson at the age of 48.   Try to stump our crack musicologists…request an episode right now at sound beat dot org.

You’re listening to the Jubilee Singers of Fisk University sing Peter on the Sea, from 1927, and you’re on the Sound Beat. Fisk University struggled financially from its very founding just six months after the end of the Civil War. On the verge of closure, the Jubilee Singers began a series of fund-raising tours in 1871. By appearing in many venues in the U.S. and embarking on a visit to Europe where they sang for Queen Victoria, the Jubilee Singers broke color barriers and made an enormous impact on the world of music. Oh, and they saved the University. As a matter of fact, the Jubilee Singers of Fisk University continue to sing today. In their words “We stand on the shoulders of the original Jubilee Singers, continuing their legacy, as we sing Negro Spirituals”. This episode was written in part by Syracuse University student Tesia Elder as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership. For more on the Jubilee Singers past and present, click here. Sound Beat is produced at the Belfer Audio Archive, Syracuse University Libraries.

What kind of music comes mind when you think of college-aged musicians hanging around a coffeehouse? Probably some acoustic folk, maybe some bongo-based “world” music? How about…classical cantatas? You’re on the Sound Beat. That’s Bach you’re listening to, the piece composed when he was the head of the Collegium Musicum of Leipzig, Germany. They were groups of amateur and professional musicians who would gather regularly in public locales…a bit like an upscale open-mic night. The Leipzig group met at Café Zimmerman, a Kaffeehaus, as they say. Fitting then that this piece, some of Bach’s lighter fare, was called the Coffee Cantata. Protagonist Lieschen (Lee-see-en) refuses her father’s requests to quit drinking coffee, calling it“more delicious than a thousand kisses, and sweeter than muscatel wine”. But when her father refuses to allow her to marry she relents. Though she have a rider in any future marriage contract: she must be allowed at least three cups a day. Which sounds like an ok agreement for any marriage.       Photo credit: Harald Hoyer from Schwerin, Germany (Coffee Beans  Uploaded by russavia) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Youre listening to Sitting On Top OfThe World, recorded by The Sheiks in 1930. The song graced the Grateful Dead’s eponymously-titled first album, released in 1967. The Dead were sitting on top of the Haight-Ashbury scene at the time, where they established a dedicated following. Their followers would eventually come to be called deadheads, following the band around the country, leaving their parents’ broken hearts in their wake. Forget all your pre-conceived notions of deadheads. Tony Blair was a big fan, and so was Bill Clinton (though he must’ve held his breath whenever he listened). But the “celebrity deadhead” award goes to Bill Walton. The ginger-haired basketball legend saw an estimated 650 shows, earning him the nickname “Grateful Red”.  

You’re listening to La Mer, a Columbia 78 from 1948 and you’re on the Sound Beat. A man as prolific as Charles Trenet (850 songs published over a 60 year career) probably doesn’t rest much, even on the train. It was on one such trip that he wrote this song La Mer, in 1943, basing the music on the contemporary hit and piano student standby “Heart and Soul”. Legend has it that he penned it on toilet paper liberated from the restroom. Musicologists put songs like this in the nouvelle chanson category, which is basically a French song with a more lyrical emphasis. The broader chanson tradition goes back to French literature’s very beginnings at the end of the eleventh century. Jack Lawrence later rewrote the song, and rewrote is the word. Instead of Trenet’s ode to the majesty of the sea itself, the new lyrics gave Bobby Darin the lost love angle that he took to #6 on the charts in 1959.

You’re listening to Nat Wills with “If a Table at Rector’s Could Talk” from the 1913 Ziegfield Follies. In 1850, there were 19 millionaires in the US. But by the Gay Nineties, there were over 4,000. The champagne flowed and extravagant shows of wealth were par for the course. Charles Rector opened his restaurant in Manhattan in 1899. It became popular with the Broadway crowd, but its most well-known patron, especially with those working for tips, was Diamond Jim Brady. Diamond Jim made his money in railroads, but cemented his legacy at the dinner table. As well as lunch, breakfast and snack tables. Catering to Brady’s stomach was, apparently, worthy of investment. Upon hearing of his fondness for the buttery, poached sole Marguery, Rector allegedly pulled his son from his third and final year of Cornell Law School to go to Paris and master the technique. Click for more on Brady’s eating exploits. Image: Seafood Display by Petr Kratochvil  

You’re listening to the Palestrina Choir on a Victor 78 from 1927 And, you’re on the Sound Beat! The choir is singing the Hymn to Apollo, one of the Homeric hymns: a collection of thirty-three anonymous ancient Greek hymns celebrating individual gods. It’s thought to have been written in 522 BC. Apollo is the son of Zeus, God of the Sun and light. His name was selected for NASA’s third spaceflight program by then manager Abe Silverstein because “Apollo riding his chariot across the Sun was appropriate to the grand scale of the proposed program.” Grand scale indeed, incorporating President John Kennedy’s stated goal of “”landing a man on the Moon and returning him safely to the Earth”. And though he would never see it, six Apollo missions would land astronauts on the Moon, with twelve men walking on the lunar surface. And every one of them returning home safely.

  Mr. Theodore G. Bilbo was a US senator, and not a good one. A member of the Ku Klux Klan, he once proposed a bill that would deport 12 million African-Americans to Liberia… in an effort to save on unemployment costs. He accepted illegal contributions, among them excavation of a lake for… creating…his…own…island? And, just when you think he couldn’t get any worse, he was well-known for his frequent practice of illeism, the use of the third person to refer to oneself. Adrienne Claiborne wrote this song with singer, labor activist and husband Bob Claiborne, in 1938. District voters seemed unswayed by the protest and Bilbo would remain in office for nearly a decade longer.

The iconic pianist and bandleader hopped around the early jazz hotspots…Harlem, Chicago, New Orleans, St. Louis. He put together the Count Basie Orchestra in Kansas City and, with the help of radio broadcasts at KC’s Reno Club, they became one of the premier big bands of the era. They recorded “Aint It The Truth”, a Columbia 78, in 1942. While their club performances put improv at the forefront, the studio recording involved a more complex arrangement. Part of that arrangement: The “call and response” which you hear… right here. This episode was written in part by Syracuse University student Mark Perkins, as part of the Sound Beat Class Partnership project. To learn more about the program, click here!

The opera is based on the play El Trobador, or The Troubador, by Antonio Garcia Gutierrez.  Verdi became so engrossed with the character Azucena, that he nearly named his version “La Vendetta”, (The Revenge) and “La Zingara”, The Gypsy. Either would have been suitable; The plot revolves around the gypsy Azucena, and the revenge she seeks for her mother. You’re listening to Mai Reggendo All Aspro Assalto, sung by Enrico Caruso and Louise Homer. The aria is from Act II, Scene 1…Azucena has convinced her son Manrico to join her vengeful quest. But with his foe at swordpoint, he stops. The title actually translates as ““At My Mercy Lay The Foe”. So, what stayed his hand? Find out right here.