Radio Digest (June 1932-Mar 1933)

26 say. You may remember it: "Lazy, I want to be lazy I want to be out in the sun With no work to be done Under that awning they call the sky. Stretching and yawning While the rest of the world Goes drifting by, etc., etc." This song is better adapted to the muted brass playing in the short, jerky, staccato style for which the arranger of Mr. Lombardo's music is so undeservedly little known. We take one minute and fifteen seconds for the chorus, and surely by this time you know it better than I. 7\jT Y MOM. How I ever came to be so ■* *-*■ late in putting this song in the list I am at a loss to know. When I asked Miss Langfeldt, my secretary, to whom I dictate these articles between scenes in my dressing room, on the train, here, there and everywhere (I always leave them until the last minute, and a wire from "Radio Digest" tells me I have two days to get it in; then Evelyn and I jump around madly, trying to get together a satisfactory list) it must have been that I stayed away from anything that might suggest a maudlin, or flag-waving desire to mention anything associated with my mother's death. Possibly I am a very bad showman in this particular respect, and it is the one inconsistent spot in my showmanship, because it is a showman indeed who, on St. Patrick's day fills his program with Irish songs; likewise who plays, on November 11th, the songs which the A.E.F. came to know and love, and so forth, perhaps ad nauseum. Certainly a showman should take cognizance of the word appropriate. The only reason I omitted Irish songs from my program, which came smack on St. Patrick's day, was simply that it takes a real Irish tenor voice, of the limpid, piping, cherubic quality that is Morton Downey's, to do justice to the songs of the native isle of his forefathers. Although I am half Irish myself, the Irish quality in my voice hardly befits me to sing the songs of Erin. Furthermore, the quartet of Irish girls on our program did an Irish song, and did it very beautifully. It was not in an attempt to be different that I failed to do any Irish songs, which fact brought a few scattered notes of criticism asking me why I failed to do so, as much as simply a realization of the fact that I could not do justice vocally to an Irish song, and for me to do an orchestral Irish medley would, by comparison, be extremely pale, when the great Rubinoff either preceded or followed me on Sunday evening with his unusually great collection of Irish songs. For that very reason, and no other, on Mother's Day, rather than do just what a super-showman of the Broadway type would have done, and to attempt to arouse a sense of sympathy and pity for myself because of the loss of my mother. I purposely refrained from doing any mother songs, and it has always been with a sense of misgiving that I have sung this very lovely song which Walter Donaldson has written in the popular vein. Shortly after my mother's death, some wag had the audacity to suggest that I was going to write a song dedicated to her. Possibly such a course of action might seem natural to some people but were I to read of such a thing I would only consider that the individual concerned was trying to capitalize upon such a tragic event. At no time has such a thing ever entered my head, and as I said before, I have always felt that there were those individuals who might think that I was singing the song, "My Mom" with such a purpose in mind. In fact, I refrained from doing it for a long time, until the publisher of it finally convinced me that were I to mention it as Walter Donaldson's song, it would help our listeners-in to realize that I was singing it for the very same reason that I sing most songs — that they are popular songs that I believe the public would enjoy hearing, and not for any personal reasons. That, and that alone accounts for the fact that I probably failed to mention heretofore one of the greatest songs that master, Walter Donaldson, who has written so many others, has ever written. Bing Crosby has done it full justice, and I am happy to be a sort of runner-up on this particular song, which is one of the few songs which really thrills Harry Richman: "Do you think I'm getting over?" Sylvia Fox: "I hope so. Let me know if you don't." Harry: "I mean with the radio audience." me as I sing it. That is the test of a great popular song, and this song has that touch of the divine spark which no one can deny Walter Donaldson. He has done a beautiful . melodic and lyrical job. It has rapidly become a big seller, hence I feel I need hardly speak about it further to the readers of "Radio Digest," who, if they are radio fans, have heard the song many times. We take one minute in the playing of the chorus, and it is published by Donaldson, Douglas & Gumble. COMEBODY LOVES YOU. Again I ^ am afraid I must take the count, and this time for the full stroke of ten. How I ever came to fail to describe to you the charms and beauties of a song which has been one of the most popular, if not the leading song of the East, Middle West, and West for the last several weeks is more than I can imagine. My good friend, Archie Fletcher, of the Joe Morris Music Co., comes forth again. Archie, as heretofore described in these columns, is the presiding potentate of one of the few one-room (figuratively speaking) office music publishing companies. For years he has guided the destinies of the Joe Morris Music Co.. which controls the copyrights of some of. the best known tunes of the past 20 and 25 years. It was Archie Fletcher who made a lot of fame and money for Gene Austin, in giving him "Melancholy Baby." and many other Austin successes. At least, he made a lot of money for Bennie Davis and Joe Burke in the writing of "Carolina Moon," which subsequently proved a fine theme song for Morton Downey on his Camel Hour. I am more than happy, if for no other reason than for the two gentlemen who wrote "Somebody Loves You," and who also provided one of the most beautiful waltzes it has ever been my pleasure to sing, namely "When Your Hair Ha? Turned To Silver"— Messrs. Charlie Tobias and Peter de Rose, who of course is best known as the husband of May Singhi Breen, and the voice that blends with hers on their program. We always played it brightly — 36 seconds to the chorus, though of course, like any ballad, it is better, from the standpoint of bringing out the real value of the song, to play it slowly. CAME OLD MOON. Out here in Chi^ cago is an old gentleman, of the music profession, who has really been a tremendous success; — F. J. Forster of the Forster Music Publishing Co., with headquarters in Chicago for years, and branch offices in other parts of the country, is another one of those men whose offices were always small and unpretentious, giving rise to the expression, "He carries his office in his hat," but he has been the publisher of some of the music world"? greatest tunes, such as "The Missouri Waltz," the story of which I will be very happy to unfold some time should enough