Swing (Feb-Dec 1951)

330 S. singing "The Lady is a Tramp" in English— or what she thinks is English — is as French as the Rue de la Paix. In fact, it would be more comprehensive if she sang it in French. As for the Voice of America, it is, according to all evidence, not heard in Paris. That does not mean it is not broadcast in Paris. It is broadcast here but, as I say, not heard. An acquaintance of mine expressed it aptly: "You can always tell when the Voice of America is on the air by leaning out the windows. You'll hear the click of radios being turned off all over Paris." The French simply don't understand what the hell the Voice of America is talking about. They find the Voice not only bewildering but faintly ludicrous. I'm inclined to agree. One program for example, is called "Ici New York" which is roughly comparable to "And now — we give you San Francisco." Or in this case, New York. This is likely to start out with some such vital message from the American people as this: "Nous voila au Stork Club. Monsieur Billingsley nous dit bon soir et puis voila une franchise. On I'a reconnait comme chic Parisienne de son chapeau. Je vous presente Morton Downey. II est un fameux chanteur de ballades Irelandaises." The average Parisian doesn't know what the Stork Club is and couldn't care less about Monsieur Sherman Billingsley. Much of the Voice's message here consists of records and the French complain bitterly about the quality of the records. They are very old records, many of them Negro spirituals. The French have a great fondness for our spirituals, know a great deal about them and feel that the Voice's selections couldn't be worse. One Frenchwoman told me that every time she turned on the Voice, all she got was "Old Man River." "As for the rest of it — discussion programs," she said. "A bunch of people sitting around a table discussing what goes in Arkansas. You know. Monsieur Crosby, I don't care what goes in Arkansas." August, 1931 ! One American Conquest \ THE most successful export we have 4 >i made to Europe and one of our best i ambassadors in every country is our dance ; music. It's rather odd when you think ; about it a bit. The world's great music sprang from Europe but the Europeans, < at least the current crop, don't seem to ' ! understand how to compose a popular j song. j You can wander all over Europe and ; never get out of hearing distance of "Ol' i Man River," "Begin The Beguine," "Night i and Day" and "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" which are conceivably the four most in , ternational songs in the world. The French, ^ the Italians, the Danes — well, name any i body — prefer our old popular songs, the I older the better. At Grosvenor House in | London you will find the English, a sober ' ' race, jiggling up and down sedately to I "Bye Bye Blues." And at that football : I field of a dance floor in the Grande Hotel 1 J in Stockholm, you'll find a different i crowd but the same tune. ■ Move over to Helsinki, which has been ; aptly described as the Tim Costello's of i the north — there's only one nightclub there i ■ — or at the Wunderbar in Copenhagen : | you'll hear an awful lot of "After You've j Gone." In Berlin at the Golden Horse ) shoe, where the customers ride horses •, around a sanded ring for reasons which j were never made clear to me, you'll en j counter that old-time tune, "Avalon." I In Vienna, at the Moulin Rouge, at this I very moment I bet anything you'll find a ' ' couple of professional entertainers tap i dancing to "Tea For Two" which, of course, is the tune people have been tap j dancing to all over the world ever since ) it was written. In Rome, there is a won J derful restaurant and nightclub called the { Hosteria dell Orso in an edifice that was i standing there in Dante's day. And the tune we danced to there — "Yes, Sir, That's My Baby" which came along only a few years after Dante. In Paris — this paragraph may just con I fuse you a bit at first but stick with me i here — the Metro, the subway, contains , • some ot the most glamorous names in France as station stops. One line con