Radio Digest (June 1932-Mar 1933)

24 T T UNEFUL lOPICS By Rudy Vallee TTZtTH SUMMER COMING i/g/ ON. Few songs have been as f f appropriate for the beginning of this column, or from a seasonal standpoint as this song. Frankly, were I to emulate Sigmond Spaeth, as a song detective, I would say that the melody, 'With Summer Coming On," is hauntingly reminiscent of Mr. Columbo's signature, which carries him to you romantically each evening. However, it seems impossible for anything to be entirely new. The song is published by the firm of Keit-Engle, the new firm in which have been merged the personalities and abilities of Joe Keit, who for so many years directed the policies of Remick, Inc., and Harry Engle, who has been an executive with various of the big ' publishers, including Robbins, Inc., and Irving Berlin, Inc., and who helped to organize Davis, Coots & Engle, with its subsequent repurchase back from Radio] Music, after the radio executives found that the publishing of music was something more intricate than they had at first thought. As Davis, Coots & Engle they had many hits, including "Dream a Little Dream of Me," "I Still Get a Thrill Thinking of You," "Why," in fact all the music from 'Sons 0' Guns," though perhaps they are closest to me in that they were the publishers of one of my own. tunes, "My Cigarette Lady." I am glad to see Keit-Engle start off with such an auspicious beginning, as this song will certainly be one of the most popular on the airwaves, not that that will enrich the pockets of the writers or publishers much until some system is devised whereby those who really enjoy the strains of such a tune contribute in however small a way financially, to reward those who fashion this means of enjoyment. That is the nightmare which confronts orchestra leaded like myself, who depend on writers and ^publishers for songs. Our programs are no better than the songs, and the day thalt song-writers fail to come through with real hits for us to play for you, is the day our programs cease to be interesting, but I am wondering just how long writers are going to continue to write and publishers continue to sort out, weed out, fix up and publish songs when all their effort does not even give them a livelihood! Something must be done, and done quickly, but it is a relief when such songs come along as this tune, which show that writers like Messrs. Turk and Ahlert are still exerting themselves to write tuneful hit songs. I hope their efforts will always be rewarded, as they are two of the most consistent writers in the business. Maybe I have forgotten to mention that the tune is a beautiful waltz, and we take 45 seconds for the chorus. Jl/TY EXTRAORDINARY GAL. This IrJ. is another example of a tune which I personally felt that I could not do justice to vocally, and which I felt was one of the oddest rhythmical and musical contributions to popular song-writing in a long time, and which I doubted would catch on with the public. My drummer, Ray Toland, however, came to me speaking most enthusiastically of the song. The title itself led me to believe that the song would be just the type of song it turned out to be — a sophisticated type of song, a mixture of blues, sophistication and rhythm. Its exceedingly odd tonality going, as it does, to a half-tone below the note one would normally expect to find at the top, made me doubt very much that it would ever have any commercial possibilities, only to find it one of the most popularly played tunes on the air, and very often requested in my fan mail. Striving as always to be impartial, and to give credit in these articles to songs which really have merit as decided by the public, I felt I should say something about the song. Way down from the hot state of Texas comes Terry Shand, Larry Funk's pianist. You will remember Larry Funk as the boy with the Band of a Thousand Melodies, the boy whose little four and five piece aggregation entertained you so many times from the NBC studios, and who later followed Mr. Rolfe into the Palais D'Or Restaurant. Larry is one of the finest boys in the business, a very fine banjo player and leader of orchestras. Terry Shand, whom I have never had the pleasure of meeting, is very happy at the success of his first song. Possibly his Texas environment had something to do with the odd construction of the piece. I would certainly never have picked it for a popular tune, and I am still wondering why the public should decide to take it into its bosom. I rarely go wrong in my positive declaration that such a number would not catch on, as I rarely make such a definite, dogmatic statement, but it is pleasant to be surprised sometimes, especially when it is an agreeable surprise, because the publisher of the song, Abe Olman, is one of the men in the music profession whom I enjoy meeting and knowing. Further than that, his able and agreeable little assistant, Lon Mooney, has purchased a half-interest in the song, and I would like for Lon's sake, if no other, to see the song do big things in the way of financial remuneration to all concerned. rpRE NIGHT SHALL BE FILLED 1 WITH MUSIC. The singing Santlys, of whom I have spoken before, and who formerly were three, are now two. Joe Santly, whose unusually large eyes have given him the epithet of "banjo eyes," has left his brothers, Henry and Lester, and the other two boys are carrying on the business which has been going since 1929. All three boys are old-timers in the profession, and good pickers of hit songs. It is no small wonder that they have picked a song by two boys who, though living out of town and writing out of town, have made a definite impression on Tin Pan Alley, such an impression that now Tin Pan Alley has become Gerald Marks and Buddy Fields conscious! Remick started it by taking a song that the boys wrote called "With You On My Mind I Find I Can't Write The Words," but it was not until "All Of Me" that the boys really demonstrated that they could write a hit song. They followed "All Of Me," which Berlin, Inc., published, with a lilting 6/8 tune which everyone hums after hearing it the first time, "You're The One, You Beautiful Son Of A Gun." During the stay of "Scandals" in Detroit, Mrs. Vallee and I journeyed out to Blossom Heath Inn, a very lovely and pretentious estate on the outskirts of the city, where very fine music under the able direction of Gerald Marks at the baton, and Buddy Fields at the drums, holds forth. In the lobby one finds a large one-sheet board with pictures of the two boys, and like Benny Davis's billboards in the lobbies of theatres at which he is playing, copies of the various songs they have written. The music was excellent, and both the boys were extremely congenial, and spent a lot of time at our table. I was indeed happy to play for them, two nights later, on the Fleischmann's Yeast Hour, from Detroit, one of their songs which has since been running through my mind a great deal, "The Night Shall Be Filled With Music." I thought at first the song would probably be along the lines of "Lawd, You Made the Night Too Long," a sort of negro spiritual. It is strictly Tin Pan Alley in flavor, having nothing of the Oriental or negroid about it. Except for saying that it is a good, clean musical composition, there is very little to be remarked about it otherwise. I doubt if it will line the pockets of the boys with very much gold, but it makes a good spot on anyone's radio program. And for the two boys, who are a couple of the finest fellows I have ever met, may I sincerely hope that they have many