More Beer! Frankie Yankovic Pushes Akron's Finest

The Burkhardt Brewing Co. of Akron is, alas, no more, otherwise I'd offer a free six-pack for every comment to this post.

But the brewhouse was going strong back in 1952, with a new marketing push including television spots brandishing its new slogan "B-B-G-G... Burkhardt's Beer for Golden Goodness." And its ad agency, Fuller & Smith & Ross of nearby Cleveland, had enlisted the local Polka King, Frankie Yankovic, to record vocal and instrumental versions of (what else) "The Burkhardt Polka."

It's an enjoyable if routine polka record, with Frankie reminding us that it's "B-B-G-G... Burkhardt's Beer for Golden Goodness" any number of times on the vocal side.

The singing is in the usual polka manner - choppy phrasing, no legato, no vibrato. It's designed to give the impression that anyone could do it, probably because most anyone could.

The musicians on this record are possibly the group that Yankovic recorded with at the time - Tops Cardone, accordion, Carl Paradiso, banjo, Buddy Griebel, keyboards, and Al Leslie, bass.

Beer and polkas go way back - at least as far as 1927, when the Czech Jaromír Vejvoda wrote the tune that would eventually become a giant hit as the "Beer Barrel Polka" in the 1939 recording by German accordionist Will Glahé. Yankovic's take on the tune is included both in the download to this post and in this earlier Yankovic collection.

Frank hoists a beer and an accordion

Yankovic was of Slovenian descent. That land is relatively near to Austria and Bavaria, and their musics have some similarities. One of the most familiar polka songs, "In Heaven There Is No Beer," comes from the 1956 German film, Die Fischerin vom Bodensee (if Wikipedia is to be believed), and was written by Ernst Neubach and Ralph Maria Siegel. I've included Yankovic's 1965 recording in the download, which attributes the song to the accordionist and his arranger, Joe Trolli.

Burkhardt Beer lasted from 1877 to 1956, when it sold out to the Burger Brewing Co. of Cincinnati.

Beer-related music has been an occasional topic of interest on these blogs. To date we have featured promotional records honoring Budweiser, Carling's Black Label, Schlitz, Hamm's, Duquesne, and most recently Heileman's. This 78 comes to us from Internet Archive.

The Warsaw Concerto as You Haven't Heard It Before

Richard Addinsell's Warsaw Concerto was instantly popular (and influential) after it was introduced in 1941, via the British wartime film Dangerous Moonlight (Suicide Squadron in the US).

The quasi-piano concerto (really more of a rhapsody) is a simulacrum of Rachmaninoff, but a stirring and effective one. The first recording was by an uncredited Louis Kentner, who appeared on the soundtrack backed by the London Symphony and Muir Mathieson. (That version can be found here.) Almost all of the subsequent recordings have included a piano soloist, with just a few utilizing other keyboard instruments. The latter include the discs we will hear today.

Yvette Horner

First up is Yvette Horner, a popular French accordionist for many years, who appears here with "her ensemble," which seems to consist entirely of a guitar. For this (and the recording below), the work is cut drastically to a single side. It may seem to you that Horner begins her edits in opening phrases, but I believe that may be a skip in the Internet Archive transfer. (Sorry about that.) In general, the sound on these discs is vivid, even so.

The work's emotional temperature drops in the accordion version, but that's not to say that Horner isn't good. She is, and the piece adapts surprisingly well to her instrument.

You will note that Horner is called the "Championne du Monde d'Accordéon" on the label. This was apparently related to an honor she achieved in 1948, when she won the "Coupe Mondiale de l'Accordéon." The record dates from a year or two later.

Reginald Foort

Our second artist plays an instrument more suited to dramatic music - the organ. In this case the artist is Reginald Foort and the instrument his "Giant Möller Concert Organ," as the label tells us. Foort, a popular artist in England, commissioned the beast from the US organ company A.P. Möller.

The Möller was initially installed in London's Drury Lane Theater, but in 1941, Foort had the massive instrument transformed into something that could travel with him throughout the country for wartime recitals aimed at boosting morale. It reportedly took 13 trucks to ferry the Möller when cut up into its constituent parts.

The organ does make a mighty sound on this 1943 record, although not mightier than other large organs you may have heard. Foort was quite a good instrumentalist, and he produces a satisfying reading (although in the end I would just as soon hear the work on the piano).

Foort moved to the US after the war, bringing the organ with him. After many years it ended up in San Diego at the Organ Power Pizza shop, which must have served up ear plugs along with the parmesan. Eventually it moved to the Pasadena Civic Auditorium, where Foort dedicated it with an April 1980 recital. He was to die just a month later, but the organ lives on in that same location.

Hope a few of you like these unusual records. I wanted to find a harmonica version of the concerto, but that search was in vain.

Marching Against Polio with Perry Como

I was dismayed to read that the dreaded disease polio may be making a comeback. I vividly remember how scared I was about catching the disease as a young child, especially after one of my classmates was affected. 

Polio was a big deal in the 1940s and 1950s, even afflicting US President Franklin D. Roosevelt. His story inspired the creation of the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis (as the disease was then known), which eventually took on the identity of its grassroots fundraising arm, the March of Dimes.

Today's record promotes giving to the 1959 March of Dimes, featuring one of the most popular of 20th century vocalists, Perry Como, along with his frequent collaborators, bandleader Mitchell Ayres and the Ray Charles Chorus.

Perry Como

1959 ad

The Como record was aimed at the New York market, promoting a door-to-door solicitation on March 28, 1959. "When you open the door, be sure to open your heart," Perry advises, via the song penned by well-known writer Bernie Wayne.

The record was appropriately titled "Mothers' March" and even today the March of Dimes is focused on the health of mothers and their babies. By 1959, polio vaccines had been invented and distributed, the disease was in decline, and the March of Dimes' purpose had broadened to combat arthritis, birth defects and viral infections.

As with many such public service promos, this record is not particularly well recorded - but good enough for the AM radio stations that would play it, I suppose.

Early March of Dimes poster

Sokoloff Makes the Skeletons Dance

It's getting close to Halloween, so this might be a good time to upload a performance of Saint-Saëns' popular masterpiece, Danse Macabre, which is set on the night when all hallows come out to dance.

And dance they do in this vivid (if abridged) performance by the vintage Cleveland Orchestra under its first music director, Nikolai Sokoloff. This piece is tailor-made for the conductor's sorcery. 

Its coupling is another splendid (if again abridged) performance, this one of the delightful overture to Nicolai's opera The Merry Wives of Windsor, a work that sparkles rather than scares.

In my previous posts devoted to Sokoloff (here and here), I've described both his improvisatory approach to conducting and his authoritarian manner in leading the orchestra. Both reached their limits after a time in Cleveland, and his contract was not renewed in 1933 despite his molding an excellent ensemble in a short period of time.

Nikolai Sokoloff

Sokoloff went on to direct the depression-era Federal Music Project. I recently came across a 1935 New York Times article (included in the download) that describes the similar labor problems he ran into in Washington, with the musicians union trying to expel him from its ranks and Sokoloff threatening to fire those who didn't agree with him. After these familiar flare-ups, the conductor would move on, again.

But in happier days, Sokoloff and the Clevelanders made a good number of recordings for Brunswick, dating from 1924-28. This disc comes from 1926, during a period when Brunswick was using the so-called GE "Light-Ray" method, which was inferior to the Western Electric process used by other companies. 

Mark Obert-Thorn, who has produced an edition of all Sokoloff's Cleveland recordings for Pristine Classical, wrote of the GE system, "At lower volume levels, the results could be acceptable; however, anything forte and above came out congested and harshly distorted." Actually, the sound on the Light-Ray discs I've processed is not as bad as this might suggest, although I will acknowledge that there is congestion above forte and some distortion. And this particular Internet Archive transfer does retain some surface noise even after my ministrations. [Note (June 2023): This recording is now available in ambient stereo.]

The important matter is the music in the grooves, and it could not be more enjoyable. Please have fun cavorting with the dancing ghouls and merry wives.

1932 GE ad - Sokoloff would move on the following year

Astaire and Guests in 'A Damsel in Distress'

The previous installments in this series of Fred Astaire recordings have included three Astaire-Rogers films, all of which spawned commercial 78s by both Fred and Ginger. Today's entry, 1937's A Damsel in Distress, doesn't offer any Rogers songs because she didn't appear in the film. Her replacement was the limp Joan Fontaine, who didn't dance very well or sing at all. So to fill out the program of four Astaire performances, I have added two contemporary recordings by cabaret artists of the time.

A Damsel in Distress was loosely based on a P.G. Wodehouse story and play, characteristically involving intricate nonsense at an English manor house. Astaire played an American dancer - type casting - with radio favorites George Burns and Gracie Allen as accomplices. English bandleader Ray Noble played the silly-ass Bertie Wooster-type that was a constant in Wodehouse stories.

Beside Astaire, the stars of the show were the Gershwin brothers and their splendid songs. Fred's main numbers are all famed - "Nice Work If You Can Get It," "I Can't Be Bothered Now," "Things Are Looking Up" and particularly "A Foggy Day." These were among the brothers' last songs together - George died during the production at age 37.

Astaire recorded his four numbers in Los Angeles in October 1937 - about a month before the film opened - with backing by Ray Noble's band. These are all superb records. "I Can't Be Bothered Now" starts with Fred dancing and being unsuccessfully interrupted by a vocal group chanting in time, "Telegram for Mr. Astaire" and him responding "I'm dancing and can't be bothered now!" and so forth.

'A Foggy Day'

"A Foggy Day" begins with a mournful trombone, with the arrangement brightening at "Suddenly, I saw you there." "Things Are Looking Up" begins with the verse, usually omitted, which sets off the sunny chorus. Astaire's singing is backed by what sounds like tap dancing, but it was probably effects provided by the drummer.

Fred does dance in "Nice Work If You Can Get It," which again begins with the verse. This features one of Ira Gershwin's best set of lyrics, but all these songs are distinguished both in music and words.

George Byron

The film also includes two mock madrigals, including "The Jolly Tar and the Milkmaid," which has a wonderful Ira Gershwin lyric perhaps more influenced by W.S. Gilbert than the Renaissance masters. In the film, this number is almost a throwaway as Fred joins a madrigal group, but the droll piece stands on its own very well. In this set, I've included a contemporary recording by the West Coast cabaret artist George Byron, who handles the piece nicely. Byron has been heard on my other blog in music of Jerome Kern.

The download also includes a medley of songs from the score as performed by songwriter-pianist Edgar Fairchild for the Liberty Music Shop label. Fairchild has appeared on my other blog in an Oh, Kay! medley with fellow composer-pianist Ralph Rainger. Here he is mated with an unnamed guitarist, perhaps George Van Eps, who was active on the West Coast at the time.

One other song from the score was not to my knowledge recorded at the time but has been since. "Stiff Upper Lip" - introduced by Gracie Allen - has been done by Ella Fitzgerald among others. Gracie sings the number during the extended "fun house" scene. It is one of the best parts of the film, not least because of its spectacular moderne set.

In the fun house with Burns, Allen and Astaire

The download includes the usual passel of stills and posters. The transfers were cleaned up from Internet Archive needle drops. The sound in the Astaire songs is excellent. The Byron and Fairchild pressings are a bit grainy.

A Quartet for King Charles

After my recent tribute to Queen Elizabeth, I thought it only right to  post something associated with King Charles. There's nothing yet for the newly crowned Charles III, so I chose music associated with his namesake Charles II (1630-85).

The composition is by Matthew Locke (c1621-77), a court composer for Charles II. He is said to have presented the subject of today's post, the Consort of ffowre Parts, Suite VI in G, along with its companion suites to Charles sometime after 1660.

But before I go any further, please let me acknowledge the generosity of blog follower Steve Banks, who sent me this and several other interesting recordings, which I will post periodically. I also want to mention the expertise of another friend, Nick Morgan, who is an expert on the National Gramophonic Society, which recorded this disc in 1929. Nick's NGS discography can be found here.

You will note that the label above presents the work as Locke's String Quartet No. 6 rather than a Consort of ffowre Parts. That is because Locke's music had been transcribed for modern string quartet in 1927 by composer Peter Warlock (Philip Heseltine) and edited for performance by André Mangeot, the first violin of the International String Quartet, which performs on the recording at hand.

Matthew Locke

The world of Locke's "String Quartet" is far away from the quartets that would be most familiar to us today. His work is actually a brief suite for four viols, with an opening Fantasia followed by a Courante, Aire and Saraband, all 17th century dances. When Heseltine worked on his transcription, the music of the Restoration was in general little known and played. So he reworked the Locke work for the performers of the time.

At that point, Heseltine had already developed a reputation as a composer and especially as a combative critic. It was during this period that he in his "Warlock" guise wrote his masterpiece, The Curlew, a song cycle to Yeats' poetry. Alexander Young's performance with the Sebastian String Quartet can be found here.

André Mangeot

As I mentioned, Heseltine's Locke transcription was prepared for performance by André Mangeot in 1927. The two had hoped to have it published at that time, but Nick Morgan notes that it was not issued until 1932, after Heseltine's early death.

Mangeot and his quartet were mainstays of the National Gramophonic Society, an important early classical music label that was in effect an offshoot of The Gramophone magazine, which author Compton Mackenzie founded in 1923. Mackenzie soon thereafter began the National Gramophonic Society, which was to issue 166 discs from 1924-31, per Nick.

NGS's final release was a memorial version of The Curlew with artists including Mangeot's string quartet and tenor John Armstrong, as conducted by Heseltine's close friend Constant Lambert.

Peter Warlock, inscribed to André Mangeot, 1927

The personnel of the International String Quartet varied over time; for the Locke recording the group included Mangeot and Albert Voorsanger, violins, Eric Bray, viola, and John Shinebourne, cello.

The download includes several contemporary reviews; thanks to Nick for the citations. And special thanks again to Steve Banks for making this fascinating recording available to us.

FYI - if you would like to hear what a more modern early-music ensemble has made of Locke's consorts, Hespèrion XX's set can be found on YouTube.

Fred and Ginger (and Harriet) Follow the Fleet

Here is one more in the series devoted to the films of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, with the commercial recordings of both artists. Today's subject is Follow the Fleet, a 1936 vessel for their singing and dancing talents. The film also introduced vocalist Harriet Hilliard, who recorded the two Irving Berlin numbers she sang in the film - and which are added to today's playlist.

Astaire and Rogers both recorded two of the score's best and most famous numbers - "Let Yourself Go" and "I'm Putting All My Eggs in One Basket" - Fred for Brunswick and Ginger for English Decca (even though her songs were backed by the American bandleader Jimmy Dorsey).

Astaire had the film's best number - "Let's Face the Music and Dance" - to himself, also the lesser "I'm Building Up to an Awful Let-Down," "We Saw the Sea" and "I'd Rather Lead the Band." Fred is accompanied by Johnny Green and orchestra, who are perfect for the assignment.

Astaire's singing is, as always, wonderful, and three of the songs were hits. Rogers is in better form here than in some of her other outings in this series, aided by the excellent Dorsey band. She's far from a good singer, but it's wonderful to have these souvenirs.

It's also nice to have the Harriet Hillard recordings, made for Brunswick with her bandleader husband, Ozzie Nelson. This was years before Ozzie, Harriet and sons became popular on radio and then television. (That's Harriet in the corner of the poster above, looking innocent with co-star Randolph Scott.)

On these records, Ozzie manages to feature himself over Harriet, confining her to the "vocal chorus by" duties, well after the extended band intros. Hilliard was a better singer than Rogers, certainly, but she had a thin voice and could be inexpressive. She was in tune, though. Nelson's band was typical of the time, proficient but stylistically behind the times, sounding stodgy next to Jimmy Dorsey's troupe and unsophisticated compared to Johnny Green's.

Hilliard's songs are both good Berlin efforts. "But Where Are You?" is a simple tune and it needs more than the On. The. Beat. treatment that the Nelsons provide. Harriet is much better in "Get Thee Behind Me, Satan."

The download, as usual, includes a large number of restored posters, lobby cards and stills. The transfers are cleaned up from raw materials found on Internet Archive.