Start Over

The record changer (Feb-Dec 1943)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

dentally, Clarence Woods and John S. Caldwell wrote the Graveyard Blues, originally published in Austin, Texas. It might surprise many of Pinetop Smith's admirers if they read the words of Graveyard Blues, because they would find that Piretop's' Blues has practically the same words, except Pinetop1 s last two choruses. Graveyard Blues was published in 1916 when Pinetop was about twelve years old. * * * One of the liveliest dance halls in the Storyville of about 1911 was located, to the best of my recollection at the downtown woods corner of Customhouse and Liberty Streets. The barroom stood on the corner, with the dance hall expending back, along the Liberty Street side, apparently having been built for the purpose. Entrance was by way of the bar, or by an entrance on the side street. At the right, as one went in by the side entrance, was a rather small room with a window opening on the street; I don't remember ever passing that way at night when there wasn't a group of poker faced men sitting around a table, playing cards. Nothing disturbed them, or distracted their attention; idlers 1 passing by could look in on them, and did so; just beyond was the dance hall with all its hubbub and raucous music; they continued silently with their playing, apparently unconscious of their surroundings. Customers at the bar, or passers-by, at times were treated to an exhibition of rhythm by the bartender, a lively, round faced man, who, unless he was drawing beer or mixing a drink when the band started in the back room, would grab a long handled spoon in each hand, turn his back on the customers at the bar, and accompany the orchestra by beating a tattoo, a la xylophone, on the rows of liquor bottles on the shelves back of the bar. The beat was good, but as the contents of the bottles varied constantly the harmony was 'far afield. However, he would finish with a swish across several bottles and turn around to resume his drink mixing. I remember coming along Customhouse Street one night in 1911, when the negro orchestra in this place was playing a particularly hot sounding number in "stop time", — a couple of measures of music, then a couple of measures of dead rest, and so forth. The number was new to me, and really good, so as the orchestra was finishing the number, I passed through the barroom, and weaved my way among the dancers to the platform at the far end of the hall, where the orchestra played. The rather heavy set cornet player was still standing in the middle of the front of the platform, having just finished his last blast. "What's the name of the tune?" I asked him. "Chicken Reel," he replied. So I got a copy of the sheet music, and have always considered it a good number. A few years ago a modernized version was put out, and I believe Tommy Dorsey presented the tune in a broadcast, but all that I heard was a pretty lollypop compared to the husky vigor of that original presentation. * » » I bought many pieces of sheet music after hearing Tony Jackson play and sing the numbers. I never asked him how he got hold of them, but he must have been on the publishers' lists, because he was always out in front with the new tunes, and sang many that I never heard anyone else sing or play. He made two trips to Chicago to my knowledge, but I find it hard to recall exact dates. However, by sometime in 1915 he had left New Orleans for good as far as I know. I can't say how much he bettered himself by going to Chicago, but he had several of his compositions published, and received at least a little recognition for his talents. There is thus some tangible evidence to keep him from becoming a purely legendary character. I can remember what a kick I got sometime in 1916, when on looking in the window of Grunewald's Music Store I saw a copy of Pretty Baby by Tony Jackson, Gus Kahn and E. Van Alstyne, published by Remick. Other numbers followed, and here is a list of all Tony Jackson's published compositions that I have been able to discover : Pretty Baby, Lyric by Gus Kahn, music by Tony Jackson and E. Van Alstyne; I've Been Fiddle-ing, Lyric by Gus Kahn, music by Tony Jackson & E. Van Alstyne; Some Sweet Day, Words and music by Tony Jackson, Ed Rose and Abe 01manr I've Got 'Em, Words and music by Tony Jackson and Jack Frost; Miss Samantha Johnson's Wedding Day, words and music by Tony Jackson; Waiting at the Old Church Door, words and music by Tony Jackson; Why Keep Me Waiting so Long? words and music by Tony Jackson Ice and Snow, Words and music by Tony Jackson ; I'm Cert'ny Gonna See About That, words and music by Tony Jackson. Pretty Baby was a nation wide hit, but Tony didn't reap the profits, since it is pretty well established that he sold the number for $45.00. They are all good "popular" songs for their time, but in my judgment, Some Sweet Day, Ice and Snow, Why Keep Me Waiting so Long, and I'm Cert'ny Gonna See about That are the ones that remind me most of Tony. The whole list gives just a little of his variety of thought. The original version of Some Sweet Day was typically Tony; the publisher, Forster, also put out an edition with a different arrangement, possibly by Abe Olman, since his picture is on the title page, which, while ingenious, does not compare with Tony's arrangement. I have been unable to get a copy of I'm Cert'ny Gonna See About That, which was published by Clarence Williams, and recorded by him and Sara Martin. It is too bad that Tony never recorded when He was in his prime. I hope that some day he may receive the credit he deserves in the development of jazz piano. Jelly Roll doubtless learned a lot in his early days from Tony. Born sometime in the late 1870's, Tony Jackson was playing orchestra piano by about 1894, so he would have seen and taken part in the development from ballads to ragtime, and the blending of ragtime and blues Into Jazz.