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ING "IT"!
S TO THE AIR
were born, lived and were slaughtered, died and were sung some more. And the public ate it up.
Like all satiated beings, the public then became more discriminating. It was not enough that the singer should emote in a sweet, unfaltering voice. The voice had to move you, change you, make you tremble and resolve to do or die. The voice had to have personality, vitality, vim, pep, appeal, "that something" and IT!
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WHILE Clara Bow, by undressing twenty times in one reel, can sometimes make the public forget that her voice sounds like a Bowery lament, radio singers can not get off so easily. The girl who sings "I Surrender" might be asked to, but the lonely bachelor or
mistreated husband who hears her must feel that she has all the qualities which would make such a surrender desirable.
"The Peanut Vendor" took another jump in popularity when Gay Seabroolt started singing it
RADIO DOINGS
Page Twenty-five
The crooner of "Lover Come Back to Me" might have a face so homely his stomach would refuse the food that came to it, but his voice must have that yearnful appeal which will incite the desire for sweet reconciliation in a million feminine breasts.
These stringent demands have developed a class of entertainers who stand out for their vital personalities. June Pursell, Hazel Warner, Dave Percy, Cookie the Sunshine Girl, Charlie Wellman — all these and many others have the vital spark, and each means a definite personality to radio listeners.
One of the first feminine personalities to gain popularity was the singer of blues. Headed perhaps by June Pursell they have multiplied into scores. Girls with deep voices full of emotion. Listening to them the disappointed lover feels that he and they have something in common. They have lived,
Esrher Ralston gives beauty talks over KMTR, practices what she preaches, and . . . well, judge for yourself
Marion Clayton puis a world of feeling in her dramatic readings at KFWB
they have known sorrow and heartache and sordid disillusion. Out of it all they have come, wiser and better. Women with Character!
For a time the public threatened to go absolutely maudlin. It wanted its radio personalities sentimental, homeloving, faithful and true to ideals. It demanded Mammy and more Mammy. It kept Sonny Boy up long after he should have been in bed with all other good little boys. It wanted singers who could rave about the "Little Home in the West" and at the same time have a sob-in-the-voice over "My Old Kentucky Home."
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THEN came Helen Kane, and the whole line of oop-boop-a-doers, saving us from sobbery. They were charming infants, with cute knees and dim pled elbows in their voices. They made (Continued on Page 38)
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