This wacky tune starts off like a military march that then turns into a jaunty vamp that gets more fun the longer it goes on. There’s a snippet of what sounds like “The Bear Went Over the Mountain” at one point. The tuba and banjo player (Joe Tarto and Tony Colucci) are having a ball throughout. Lots of whimsical hot breaks throughout. I have a sneaking suspicion that it was perhaps more than “just a little” drink. ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ
Recorded in New York City on August 3, 1925. Released as Cameo 775 and Lincoln 2381.
Credits: Hymie Farberman, Red Nichols – trumpet Herb Winfield – trombone Clarence Heidke – Chuck Muller – clarinet, soparano sax, alto sax Alfie Evans – clarinet – alto sax Lucien Smith – clarinet, tenor sax Eddie Sheasby – violin Bill Krenz – piano Tony Colucci – banjo Joe Tarto – tuba Vic Berton – drums
“Potomac River Blues”, written by Maceo Pinkard, was one of the first songs published by Down South Music Publishing, co., a subsidiary of Jack Mills, Inc. begun by Fletcher Henderson and Andrew Sissle in New York in 1923. The publishing house was devoted “exclusively toward the popularization of characteristic ‘blues’ novelties by foremost race artists, composers, and stage and record stars.”
The tune was first recorded in November 1923 for Paramount by Henderson accompanying vocalist Birleanna Blanks.
Here we have a fine performance by the pre-Armstrong Henderson band, released on the ornate Vocalion label on distinctive red shellac. These records were marketed as “Vocalion Red Records” as a way to visually stand out from other records. They moved back to standard black shellac sometime in 1925.
This recently-acquired disc completes my collection of the Henderson Vocalion Red records!
The performance is enhanced by a bass sax performance, believed to be Billy Fowler, which particularly comes alive during Don Redman’s clarinet solo. Fowler also engages in some elephantine galumphing, along with Hawkins on tenor sax at several points in the composition.
Probably one of the most beloved recordings of Bix Beiderbecke from the Goldkette era.
In Richard Sudhalter and Philip Evans’s book, Bix: Man & Legend, they describes the recording session in detail:
“…the Goldkette band met at Liederkranz Hall to record one last time for Victor. The mood, Doc Ryker recalled, was far from what could have been expected from a lame-duck aggregation. ‘On the contrary, all the boys felt they wanted to get something really good down on record, something that’d show the band at its best,’ he said. They had tried twice now to do just that, both times thwarted by last-minute directives from on high. This time, as things turned out, was different. One of the two numbers they were scheduled to do was a bouncy tune called ‘Clementine (from New Orleans),’ working from a published “stock” orchestration. With Bill Challis gone, a custom-tailored score was out of the question. But everyone, Doc Ryker said, had suggestions for small alterations which would turn the stock into something special.
‘We rehearsed quite awhile before we did it,’ Ryker said, ‘I sent the brass section out to one room, the saxes to another, to work out their choruses. I think, in fact, that they went to the ladies’ room.’ The result was a pasteup job based only loosely on the origional, with bits and pieces by Tram, Murray, and Howdy incorporated. It featured a three-part sax section chorus, giving way to Bix’s longest solo on any Goldkette recording – a full chorus over sustained band chords, with Venuti taking the release.
By any standard, ‘Clementine’ is an extraordinary record, and a departure from all Goldkette Victor performances before it. The band, lifted by Lang’s guitar, sings along with a freshness and rich tonal balance rare on any recording of the 1920s and a rhythmic relaxation looking a good decade into the future. Bix fills in during the ensembles with the charm of a highspirited schoolboy, and his solo, simple in construction, refashions a new tune out of the old with the same natural grace which turned ‘Singin’ the Blues’ into a piece of jazz history.
Truly, said Ryker, a record to remember. ‘You bet,’ Rank added, ‘It was undoubtedly the best record we ever made. It should have been, because it took us all day. Everyone contributed to it as we went along. It was our last will and testament – and a great one at that.”
I’ve had a domestic Victor copy of this tune for some time, but in lesser condition. This pristine Argentinian pressing on the Victor label is a reissue from 1936, showing that even in its time, this recording was already acknowledged as a classic worth hearing again around the world.
0:00 Intro 0:32 Trombone (Bill Rank) 0:55 Call and Response with Eddie Lang 1:15 Reeds (Murray, Ryker, Tram) 1:59 Cornet (Bix) 2:20 Violin (Venuti) 2:31 Cornet (Bix) 2:42 Outro
Recorded in New York City on September 15, 1927. Released in Argentina as Victor 25283 (mid 30s pressing) Originally released in the U.S. as Victor 20994.
Credits Bix Beiderbecke – cornet Fuzzy Farrar, Ray Lodwig – trumpet Bill Rank, Lloyd Turner – trombone Don Murray – clarinet, baritone sax Doc Ryker – alto sax Frank Trumbauer – C-melody sax Joe Venuti – violin Eddie Lang – guitar Itzy Riskin – piano Howdy Quicksell – banjo Steve Brown – string bass Chauncey Morehouse – drums
Sources: Jazz and Ragtime Records (1897-1942), Brian Rust, 6th Ed. Bix: Man & Legend, Richard M. Sudhalter & Philip R. Evans, Quartet Books Ltd, 1974, p.211-212
A snappy number written by pianist Seger Ellis first recorded by Tram and his band in 1929 – just two days before Tram and the entire Paul Whiteman Orchestra – including musicians, vocalists, arrangers, and electricians – boarded the Old Gold Special Train headed for Hollywood to film “The King of Jazz”.
On the way out West, the band stopped in city after city, recording special radio programs in Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Cleaveland, Toledo, Detroit, Fort Wayne, Chicago, Springfield, Indianapolis, St. Louis, Kansas City, Omaha, Lincoln, Denver, Salt Lake City, and San Francisco before settling in to Los Angeles to start filming on June 28.
Recorded in New York City on May 22, 1929. Released in the U.K. as Parlophone R 511. Originally released in the U.S. as OKeh 41268.
Credits: Frank Trumbauer – C-melody sax, alto sax, director Charlie Margulis, Andy Secrest – cornet Bill Rank – trombone Chester Hazlett – alto sax Irving “Izzy” Friedman – clarinet, tenor sax Min Leibrook – bass sax Joe Venuti – violin Roy Bargy – piano Eddie Lang – guitar George Marsh – drums
Do Doodle Oom is a very interesting acoustic recording of the early Henderson orchestra only about a month after Coleman Hawkins joined the group. Henderson said that he found Hawkins playing with Wilbur Sweatman’s band at Connie’s Inn, after having returned from a gig playing with Mamie Smith’s Jazz Hounds out West.
This tune was first recorded by the Henderson band for the Vocalion label in early August of 1923 as “Do Doodle Oom”. Recorded a month later for Columbia, the label misspelled the song title as “Do Doddle Oom”.
Elmer Chambers’ cornet leads us through the intro of this Porter Grainger and Henderson co-composition. At 1:13 Don Redman’s clarinet and Coleman Hawkin’s sax take over – trading riffs in a kind of call and response. At 1:55 the song takes a dramatic left turn – the beat picks up and Hawk’s baritone sax drives the rhythm section into a frenzied funk.
Details
Recorded in New York City on Thursday, September 13, 1923. Released as Columbia A3995.
Credits
Fletcher Henderson – piano, director Elmer Chambers – cornet Teddy Nixon – trombone Don Redman – clarinet, alto sax Coleman Hawkins – clarinet, tenor sax, baritone or bass sax Charlie Dixon – banjo Kaiser Marshall – drums
Another excellent Grey Gull track – from a decent Globe label copy on red shellac.
Personnel on this one were hard to track down, but thanks to Javier Soria Laso – found that this was actually the Emerson Studio band directed by Paul Bolognese!
He writes: “It’s also part of the same session on which they also recorded “What Name Is Sweeter Than Sweetheart” (Consolidated Record Corporation matrix 3766 with take A), “That Certain Party” (Consolidated Record Corporation matrix 3767 with takes A and B renumbered on Emerson 3019 as Emerson matrix 43036 with takes 1 and 2) and “You’ve Got To Say What I Mean” (Consolidated Record Corporation matrix 3768).”
Hats off to Javier for this great information!
Emerson Recording Laboratories began licensing its masters to Grey Gull and other chain stores starting in the spring of 1924. It then started recording new masters to order to its clients. So this was recorded in Emerson’s studio (formerly the Federal studio) in November 1925. It does not appear that it was ever released on the Emerson label – and does not appear in the Emerson discography – so it seems likely that this may have been a recording that was commissioned to be sold/licensed directly to Grey Gull.
In January, 1926 – shortly after this recording was made – Musical Director Bolognese left Emerson and moved to Grey Gull, where he helped them start their own recording studio. This led to the end of business relationship between Emerson (then known as Consolidated Recording Corporation) beyond the occasional licensing of masters here and there.
It makes sense then, that many of the mainstays of the Grey Gull studio band would be featured on this Emerson recording directed by Paul Bolognese – as they likely followed him when he started at Grey Gull.
Some great playing on this one! Lots of saxophone warbling and a growly wah trumpet solo starting at 1:17 by Mike Mosiello.
Recorded circa November, 1925. Released as Globe 8024. This recording also appears on Grey Gull 1314 and Globe 1314.
Credits: Paul Bolognese – violin, director Mike Mosiello – trumpet Eph Hannaford – trombone Larry Abbott – alto sax, soprano sax, clarinet John Cali – banjo
Sources: Emerson Records – The Complete Discography (1915-1928) by Allan Sutton, Mainspring Press Javier Soria Laso – conversation on 4/4/2026
Probably one of the most beautiful label designs in my collection – here we have a recording on the Lotus label, short-lived Indian label on the The Diamond Record Company of Bombay. Records on this label were manufactured by the National Gramophone Record Manufacturing Co., Ltd.
Recordings for this label were made electrically, so the sound quality is quite good. Pressing and shellac also appear to be very good quality. The label ceased operations in 1942.
The title on the A side “เชคเซเชฏเซ เชคเชฎเซ เชนเชธเซ เชฒเซเชฏเซ” seems to be an encouragement to laugh/smile, despite something bittersweet that may have occurred.
The title on the B side “เชธเชนเชจ เชเชเชง เชเชฐเชคเชพเช เชฒเซเชเซ” seems to be a kindly request to please continue to carry a burden and endure a weight on your shoulders.
At 78 rpm, the disc sounded slightly sped up and did not cleanly correspond to a key that a harmonium of the time would have reproduced. At a little under 76 rpm, the disc centered on a Sa corresponding to Eb, which seemed to sound most natural and made the most sense. The slightly slower tempo also seemed to complement the nature of the meditative performance and poetic lyrical themes.
