Two Early Colorado Record Labels (1916 – c. 1920)

Two Early Colorado Record Labels
(1916 – c. 1920)
By Allan Sutton

 

Ironically, Mainspring Press is located in a state that was (and largely still is) a dead-zone as far as commercial recording activity. The state’s first venture — the Colorado Phonograph Company, founded in 1889 and merged with the Utah Phonograph Company the following year — was a financial flop that quietly perished without having produced any known original recordings. It would be more than a half-century before Colorado finally could boast of its own commercial labels, albeit very minor ones.

Nevertheless, there are a couple of early disc labels with at least tenuous Colorado connections. The John Stenzel label, from what was then the small farming town of Windsor, still turns up on occasion in northern Colorado and southern Wyoming:

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Stenzel operated a department store and boot factory in Windsor, and around 1915 he added Columbia phonographs and records to his line. In May 1920, Stenzel liquidated his inventory and soon re-opened in smaller quarters, where he specialized in phonographs and records.

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The Windsor Beacon (May 6, 1920)

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The Stenzel records appear to have been used as premiums, given away with the purchase of “special” Stenzel phonographs. The only example we’ve seen of these machines was a “stenciled” Columbia product similar to the model pictured below:

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The Windsor Beacon (December 23, 1920)

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The Stenzel discs, despite the label claim, were not “specially made” for him, and they have no Colorado connection per se, other than having been sold here. The examples we’ve seen are all standard Columbia E-series discs over which Stenzel pasted his own labels, and none show titles or artists. The few that we’ve heard are recordings of German oom-pah bands (The Windsor Beacon once noted that Stenzel’s clientele were largely “Germans”). The records were likely old surplus stock that Columbia and/or Stenzel had no better way of moving.

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Our next specimen — the Colorado Scholarship Fund label of 1916, produced in conjunction with a Denver newspaper — has more substantial Colorado roots, although it was also a Columbia product:

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Long before The Voice, American Idol, or even Major Bowes’ Original Amateur Hour, there was the Colorado Scholarship Fund Contest of June 1916 — possibly the first amateur-talent contest for which the reward was a record deal, of sorts. The contest was widely publicized by the local press. Even The Talking Machine World, the foremost recording-industry trade paper of the day, covered it in detail. The event proved to be so popular that it was later staged in other cities.

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The Talking Machine World (July 1916)

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The winners were Alice Forsyth and Chauncey Parsons. Their  record still turns up often in Colorado — generally to the disappointment of collectors, since aside from the interesting-looking label, it’s pretty dreadful (so much so, that we won’t post the sound-files, out of respect to two artists who were caught at an awkward stage in their development). In defense of Forsyth and Parsons, both were true amateurs at the time, and Forsyth reportedly was recovering from throat problems.

For all of its musical shortcomings, the record appears to have sold very well. It didn’t lead to a regular Columbia contract for either singer, and it was numbered in Columbia’s Personal Record series, thus ensuring that it would never be listed in a Columbia catalog. But apparently the experience encouraged Forsyth and Parsons to pursue professional careers. Both took up vocal studies at Denver’s Wilcox Studios shortly after the record’s release.

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Forsyth remained in Denver until late 1919, when she joined the All-American Opera Company on tour, as an understudy to Anna Fitziu. By the early 1920s she had married and settled in Los Angeles, where she became a fixture on the local concert circuit and taught at Davis Musical College.

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Alice Forsyth in Los Angeles, 1923

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Parsons joined the Jambon Players, a group that entertained the troops overseas during World War I, then settled in Pittsburgh. In addition to regular concert and church work, he was a radio pioneer, broadcasting regularly over station KDKA beginning in 1921. During 1927–1928 he appeared on Broadway in Artists and Models, which ran for 151 performances at the Winter Garden. In the later 1920s he had his own program on KDKA and was a featured star on NBC’s Yeast Foamers program during 1929–1930.

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Chauncey Parsons at Loew’s Aldine Theater (Pittsburgh), 1924

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For more on the Colorado Phonograph Company, and the stories behind Colorado’s 1940s labels and recording operations (including Columbine, Dudley, Pikes Peak, and the Karl Zomar Library), be sure to check out American Record Companies and Producers, 1888-1950, available exclusively from Mainspring Press or Nauck’s Vintage Records. This is a special limited edition that we’re not making available to Amazon.com or other distributors or retailers — order soon to avoid missing out:

 

 

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Ed Kirkeby’s 1931 – 1932 American Record Corporation Sessions: The “Missing” Personnel, from Kirkeby’s Payroll Books

Ed Kirkeby’s 1931 – 1932 American Record Corporation Sessions: The “Missing” Personnel
From the payroll books of Ed Kirkeby

 

Although the compilers of The American Dance Band Discography and American Dance Bands on Records and Film claimed they consulted Ed Kirkeby’s recording files, that clearly was not the case for most of Kirkeby’s later sessions. They lumped sessions from the late 1920s onward under a massive “collective personnel” listing — a way of saying “If we throw enough crap at the wall, something’s bound to stick.”

In addition, the compilers sometimes list prominent musicians on sessions at which they were not present, without ever citing a credible source — because there are none, in these cases. See May 8, 1931, for one such instance (Rust and Johnson & Shirley seem particularly fond of claiming the Dorsey brothers were present for sessions on which the Kirkeby files confirm they don’t play).

The personnel for the American Record Corporation sessions listed below are transcribed from Ed Kirkeby’s own payroll books, and therefore negate all the guesswork in ADBD, ADBRF, and derivative discographies.

For the purposes of this post, only master numbers and titles are shown. Where spellings of names differ from those in modern works, we have used Kirkeby’s spelling. Unlisted vocalists were either Kirkeby himself or were singers employed by the studio, and thus do not appear in the payroll books. Vocalists listed here as “paid” were hired by Kirkeby on a per-session basis, and their names appear in the payroll books.

All vocalists, and other details (including take numbers, labels, catalog numbers, and label credits) will appear in a fully revised Plaza-ARC discography that’s being developed for the University of California–Santa Barbara’s Discography of American Historical Recordings project.

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American Record Corporation studio (1776 Broadway, New York)

 

February 9, 1931

10383             Headin’ for Better Times (take 4 and above) *

10405              Tie a Little String Around Your Finger

10406              Hello, Beautiful

Frank Cush, Ed Farley (trumpets); Al Philburn (trombone); Bobby Davis, Elmer Feldkamp, Tommy Bohn (reeds); Sam Hoffman, Sid Harris (violins); Lew Cobey (piano); Ed Sexton (banjo/guitar); Ward Lay (bass); Jack Powers (percussion); unlisted (vocals). Kirkeby present.

*Earlier takes are by Joe Morgan’s Palais d’Or Orchestra. Inspected pressings from mx. 10383 use labels for the Morgan recording, in error.

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March 18, 1931  (“Cameo” session [sic])

10416              I’ve Got Five Dollars (take 10) *

10417              Sweet and Hot  (take 10) *

10507              Teardrops and Kisses

Jack Purvis, Fred Van Eps Jr. (trumpets); Al Philburn (trombone); Bobby Davis, _ Lodovar (reeds); M.  Dickson, Sid Harris, Sam Hoffman (violins); Lew Cobey (piano); Ed Sexton (banjo/guitar); _ Klein (bass); Jack Powers (percussion); unlisted (vocals). Kirkeby present.

*Earlier takes are by Ben Pollack’s Orchestra. Inspected pressings from mxs. 10416 and 10417 use labels for the Pollack recordings, in error.

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April 28, 1931

10578              Can’t You Read Between the Lines?

10579              Since an Angel Like Mary Loves a Devil Like Me

10580              If You Haven’t Got Love

Jack Purvis, Fred Van Eps Jr. (trumpets); Carl Loeffler (trombone); Bobby Davis, Tommy Bohn, Ad Coster (reeds); Sid Harris, Sam Hoffman (violins); Lew Cobey (piano); Ed Sexton (banjo/guitar); Ward Lay (bass); Jack Powers (percussion). Jack Parker (paid vocalist). Kirkeby present.

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May 8, 1931

10614              Mickey Mouse (We All Love You So)

10615             Popeye (The Sailor Man)

10616              I Wanna Sing About You

Jack Purvis, Fred Van Eps Jr. (trumpets); Carl Loeffler (trombone); Bobby Davis, Tommy Bohn, Paul Mason (reeds); Lew Cobey (piano); Ed Sexton (banjo/guitar); Ward Lay (bass); Jack Powers (percussion); Billy Murray (paid vocalist). Kirkeby present.

Jimmy Dorsey (reeds) is not present, as is erroneously claimed in American Dance Bands on Record and Film.

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May 22, 1931 – Accompanying vocals by Billy Murray & Walter Scanlan

10670              Skippy

10671              Let a Little Pleasure Interfere with Business

Jack Purvis (trumpet); Bobby Davis, Adrian Rollini (reeds); Lew Cobey (piano); Jack Powers (percussion).

This session is missing from American Dance Records on Records and Film.

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September 3, 1931  (“9:30, went on to 2 o’clock”)

10791              I Don’t Know Why (I Just Do)

10795              There’s Nothing Too Good For My Baby

10796              Guilty

10797              Blue Kentucky Moon

Jack Purvis, Earle Isom (trumpets); Carl Loeffler (trombone); Bobby Davis, Elmer Feldkamp, Nye Mayhew (reeds); Harold Bagg (piano); Ed Sexton (banjo/guitar); Ward Lay (bass); Jack Powers (percussion); unlisted (vocals).

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November 13, 1931

11000              Concentratin’

11001              When I Wore My Daddy’s Brown Derby

11002              I Promise You

11003              Save the Last Dance for Me

Jack Purvis, Tony Giannelli, Earle Isom (trumpets); Carl Loeffler (trombone); Bobby Davis, Elmer Feldkamp, Paul Mason (reeds); Harold Bagg (piano); Ed Sexton (banjo/guitar); _ Smith (bass?); Jack Powers (percussion).

Erroneously attributed to “ARC Studio Band” (personnel unlisted) in American Dance Bands on Records and Film.

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February 24, 1932

11343              What a Life! (American Record Corp. labels)

B-11344          What a Life! (Brunswick Record Corp. labels)

11345              My Mom

11346              (In the Gloaming) By the Fireside

11347              Too Many Tears

Bunny Berigan, Ted Sandow (trumpets); Carl Loeffler (trombone); Bobby Davis, Elmer Feldkamp, Paul Mason (reeds); Ray Gold (piano); Noel Kilgen (guitar); Ward Lay (bass); Jack Powers (percussion); unlisted (vocals).

Erroneously attributed to “ARC Studio Band” (personnel unlisted, other than Berigan) in American Dance Bands on Records and Film.

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April 21, 1932

B-11726          That’s What Heaven Means to Me (Brunswick Record Corp. labels)

11727              That’s What Heaven Means to Me (American Record Corp. labels)

B-11728          Happy-Go-Lucky You (Brunswick Record Corp. labels)

11729              Happy-Go-Lucky You (American Record Corp. labels)

B-11730          In My Little Hideaway (Brunswick Record Corp. labels)

11731              In My Little Hideaway (American Record Corp. labels)

Bunny Berigan, Ted Sandow (trumpets); Carl Loeffler (trombone); Bobby Davis, Elmer Feldkamp, Paul Mason (reeds); Lew Cobey (piano); Ed Sexton (banjo/guitar); Ward Lay (bass); Jack Powers (percussion); unlisted (vocals).

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July 13, 1932

12065              Waiting

12066              No One But You

12067              I Love You More and More

12068              Every Hour

Sylvester Ahola, Ted Sandow (trumpets); Carl Loeffler (trombone);  Ed Sexton (banjo/guitar); Adrian Rollini (bass saxophone); George Hnida (bass); Herb Weil (percussion). Johnny Rude (reeds) was scheduled for this session but was not present.

Session missing from American Dance Records on Records and Film. Entered in the ARC files under the following false credits: Art Kahn’s Orchestra (12065, 12068), Owen Fallon’s Orchestra (12066), and Sleepy Hall & his Collegians (12067).

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Related postings (correcting errors and omissions in The American Dance Band Discography and American Dance Bands on Records and Film):

Correct Personnel for Cameo’s Late 1927–Early 1928 California Ramblers Sessions, from Ed Kirkeby’s Files

Correct Personnel for Gennett’s 1926–1927 “Vagabonds” Sessions, from Ed Kirkeby’s Files

Correct Personnel for Grey Gull’s 1929–1930 California Ramblers Sessions, from Ed Kirkeby’s Files

Correct Personnel for Okeh’s 1927 “Goofus Five” Sessions, from Ed Kirkeby’s Files

Correct Personnel for Okeh’s 1927 “Ted Wallace” Sessions, from Ed Kirkeby’s Files

“Lloyd Dayton & his Music” Finally Identified, from the Ed Kirkeby Files

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Vess L. Ossman, “The Banjo King”: Newspaper Highlights, and the World’s Biggest Banjo (1891 – 1923)

Vess L. Ossman, “The Banjo King”: Newspaper Highlights,
and the World’s Biggest Banjo
(1891 – 1923)

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Vess L. Ossman (left) and Vess, Jr. (undated photo)

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Early mentions of Ossman in the New York papers: December 2, 1891 (top), at which time Harlem was an affluent new suburb; and February 12, 1899.  Ruben “Ruby” Brooks made recordings in the late 1890s and early 1900s, including Bettini cylinders, but he died in 1906.

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Ossman participated in several recording demonstrations that have been documented, including this one for Berliner’s Gramophone on December 16, 1897. Three months earlier, Berliner’s New York studio had been opened rather reluctantly for a similar demonstration in which Ossman also participated, with management declaring, “We have yielded to the demand of popular and scientific interest in the process by which our indestructible Gram-o-Phone records are made.” The demonstration recordings are not known to have been released.

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New York (December 1901)

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Ossman went to England in the spring of 1900 (top), where he was a hit. He recalled his experiences in January 1918 (bottom).

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Ossman in the “talkies” (Salt Lake City, November 1908). The Cameraphone Company was launched in 1908 by Eugene E. Norton, an engineer with the American Graphophone Company (Columbia). The process employed synchronized six-inch cylinder records and Columbia Twentieth Century phonographs for the sound source. (For more on Cameraphone and other early attempts at “talking pictures,” see A Phonograph in Every Home: Evolution of the American Recording Industry, 1900–1919, available from Mainspring Press.)

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Another Ossman appearance on-screen (Independence, Kansas, March 1913). These movies were made for Thomas Edison’s short-lived Kinetophone, which also employed synchronized cylinders.

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A December 1916 El Paso dealer ad for Columbia records by Ossman and “Howard Van Epps” (a typo for Fred Van Eps, Ossman’s only significant rival).

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Ossman and company on the road (Scranton, Pennsylvania, January 1917). The Peerless Records Makers were forerunners of the Eight Famous Victor artists, a traveling promotional troupe in which Fred Van Eps replaced Ossman.

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In 1918, with his recording career over and his style becoming increasingly outdated, Ossman moved to Dayton, Ohio. He spent the remainder of his career performing in Dayton and other Midwestern cities. The ads above are all from Dayton, published in May 1918 (top left), October 1922 (top right), and December 1921 (bottom).

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Dayton, Ohio (December 7, 1923)

Vess Ossman Jr. continued to perform in the Dayton area into the early 1930s; the ad above is from November 1931. He later moved to Kansas City, where he worked as a theater manager.

 

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Ossman’s recorded output was truly monumental. Here are just a few favorites; his “Maple Leaf Rag” was the second recording to be made of that number, preceded only the U.S. Marine Band’s 1906 version.

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VESS L. OSSMAN: Salome Intermezzo

Camden, NJ (Johnson factory building): January 21, 1901
Victor Monarch Record 3048
The pianist is uncredited but is likely Frank P. Banta (father of the novelty pianist Frank E. Banta) or C. H. H. Booth, Victor’s house accompanists at the time.

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VESS L. OSSMAN: Maple Leaf Rag

New York: Released June 1907
Columbia 3626 (M-1414)
With studio orchestra probably directed by Charles A. Prince

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VESS L. OSSMAN: The Buffalo Rag

New York: March 2, 1909
Victor 16779 (mx. B 6848 – )
The pianist is uncredited, contrary to some discographies. Ossman originally recorded this piece for Victor on January 26, 1906 (mx. B 3049).

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VESS L. OSSMAN: St. Louis Tickle

New York: Released January 1911
D&R Record 3759 (Columbia mx. 4919 – 1)
With studio orchestra probably directed by Charles A. Prince

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VESS L. OSSMAN: Hoop-E-Kack

New York: Released July 1909
Indestructible 1113 (cylinder)
With studio orchestra probably directed by Joseph Lacalle

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Uncle Dave Macon: Newspaper Highlights (1922 – 1952)

Uncle Dave Macon: Newspaper Highlights (1922 – 1952)
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Before he was “Uncle”: Dave Macon in Nashville, November 1922 (top left), September 1923 (top right), and January 1923 (bottom)

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Macon’s earliest releases (left, 1924) were solo efforts, accompanied by his own banjo. In May 1927 (right), he traveled to New York for a series of marathon sessions that netted multiple takes of thirty-eight titles in five days — considerably more than the twenty-five reported in this Nashville Tennessean article, which misidentifies the McGee brothers as “Mack D. Brothers.”

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Dayton, Ohio (December 1926, left), and Atlanta, Georgia
(March 1925)

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Madison, Wisconsin (July 1931)

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Zanesville, Ohio (December 1937)

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Waynesboro, Virginia (July 1938)

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Gaffney, South Carolina, with son Dorris (July 1939)

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Tallahassee, Florida (January 1938, left), and Lincoln, Nebraska,
December 1937

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Macon had a starring role in Paramount Pictures’ Grand Ole Opry, which had its premier in Nashville. (June 1940)

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Cullman, Alabama (August 1940). Macon was a well-known figure in and around Cullman, where he often performed at E. C. Wheeler’s farm auctions.

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Ashland, Alabama (July 1940, left), and McComb, Mississippi
(April 1944)

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Troy, Alabama (February 1942). The Grand Ole Opry continued to feature stereotypical “blackface” fare long after it had fallen out of favor with much of the American public.

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Tampa, Florida (March 1943)

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Shreveport, Louisiana (July 1943)

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Bryan, Texas (April 1947)

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Macon’s “retirement” was short-lived, and he was soon on the road again. (Nashville, May 30, 1950)

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Murfreesboro, Tennessee (March 22, 1952)

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Murfreesboro, Tennessee (March 23, 1952)

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And a few favorites from the Fruit Jar Drinkers sessions:

 

UNCLE DAVE MACON & HIS FRUIT JAR DRINKERS:
Sail Away Ladies

New York (Brunswick studio, room #1): May 7, 1927
Vocalion 5155 (mx. E 4936)
Personnel per Brunswick files: Uncle Dave Macon (vocal/banjo); Sam McGee (guitar); Kirk McGee, Mazy Todd (fiddles, the latter listed as “Maize”)

 

UNCLE DAVE MACON & HIS FRUIT JAR DRINKERS:
Rock About My Sara Jane

New York (Brunswick studio, room #1): May 7, 1927
Vocalion 5152 (mx. E 4925)
Same personnel as above

 

UNCLE DAVE MACON & HIS FRUIT JAR DRINKERS: Tom and Jerry

New York (Brunswick studio, room #1): May 9, 1927
Vocalion 5165 (mx. E 4959)
Same personnel as above

 

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Country Music Record Fans: For information on hundreds of country music record companies and labels, from the behemoths to the smallest, most obscure regionals, be sure to check out American Record and Producers, 1888 – 1950, a special limited edition available from Mainspring Press while supplies last.

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Now’s the Time to Order “American Records Companies and Producers, 1888 – 1950”

Every week we get inquiries from folks wanting to purchase out-of-print Mainspring Press books, and unfortunately, our answer is always the same: Once they’re gone, they’re really gone, and your only recourse is the used-and-collectible book market, where (assuming you can even find a copy) you’re going to pay a stiff premium over the original list price.

Don’t let that happen to you with American Record Companies and Producers: An Encyclopedic History, 1888–1950, arguably one of the most important books to be published in the field in recent years. It’s a special limited edition, and there will be no reprints once the current supply sells out.

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For a full description, entries list, and secure online ordering, visit the Mainspring Press website…and don’t wait too long!

The Birth of Electrical Recording – Part 1

The Birth of Electrical Recording – Part 1
By Allan Sutton


The following is a revised and expanded version of several chapters that originally appeared in the author’s
Recording the ‘Twenties (Mainspring Press, 2008)

 

Radio’s popularity posed a technological, as well as a commercial, challenge to the recording industry. Even the primitive radio loudspeakers of the early-to-mid 1920s delivered greater volume, wider frequency range, and a more accurate rendition of studio ambiance than the best acoustical phonographs and records. For the first time, listeners were hearing music reproduced with a relatively high degree of accuracy, and performed without the sonic contortions required by the acoustic recording process.

Although the acoustic process had been refined over the years, it had undergone little fundamental change since the nineteenth century. It was an entirely mechanical process, employing a simple horn to focus sound waves on a circular diaphragm of mica or other material, which vibrated in response to those sound waves to drive an engraving stylus. The results were captured on a wax master disc, which was then plated to produce a permanent matrix from which sub-masters and metal stampers were generated.

No microphone or amplification was involved in the acoustic process, nor was there the ability to edit or modify the finished recording except by primitive mechanical dubbing methods. Control over input was limited to the physical placement of performers in the studio, or to trial-and-error experimentation with different horns, diaphragms, and cutting heads. The state of the sound-recording art peaked in 1912, with the introduction of the Edison Diamond Disc, then stagnated.

Singers — crowded around metal recording horns and performing at full voice, with a studio orchestra huddled just a few feet away — sometimes complained they were unable to hear themselves above the din of the accompaniment. The acoustic method’s low sensitivity and erratic frequency response required that adjustments be made for some instruments. Violins and violas were replaced by Stroh instruments, horned contraptions sporting a metal resonator in place of the wooden body. Low woodwinds were substituted for cellos, tubas for stringed basses. Bass and snare drums, which could cause over-cutting of the wax, were moved to the far reaches of the studio, if not banished altogether. A full symphony orchestra was not recorded in the United States until 1917, and even then, the results barely hinted at the size of the ensemble.

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The use of horned Stroh violins, like those seen in this 1920 photograph of J. C. Beck’s Orchestra, was one of many work-arounds necessitated by the insensitive acoustic recording process. (Bain Collection, Library of Congress)

 

The acoustic process provided no means for the engineer to monitor what was being recorded, and instantaneous playback of the wax master was impossible without inflicting damage on the master that rendered it unusable. The recordings systems suffered from multiple resonant points that could be corrected only to a limited extent, by laborious trial and error. Photographs taken in the Gramophone Company’s studio in London, and Columbia’s studio in New York, show recording horns wrapped with cloth strips to damp some of the resonances.

Even when such primitive corrections were successful, they were likely to be negated in playback by yet another set of resonances inherent in the acoustic phonographs of the day. Victor’s recording and reproduction systems in particular were plagued by marked mid-range resonances that produced a disconcerting “honking” effect.

Perhaps the public might have continued to accept acoustic recordings indefinitely, had it not been for the advent of radio and the consequent awareness that more accurate sound reproduction was indeed possible. As Bell Laboratories’ Stanley Watkins later observed,

“The fight [between radio and phonograph] was an uneven one as long as the quality of the recording was limited to the possibilities of the old acoustic method. The radio broadcasting technique with its sensitive microphone pickup allowed the artists freedom of action, permitted the use of full symphony ensembles, and made possible great improvement in quality through an ever-increasing knowledge of the use of studio acoustics.”

The initial interest in electrical sound recording, however, came not from the record companies, but from the telephone industry. Many late nineteenth-century experimenters had attempted to make direct electrical recordings using telephone parts. The technology proved to be of no practical use to the commercial recording industry because of the telephone’s intentionally limited frequency range, coupled with the inability at that early date to amplify the electrical signal. Emile Berliner experimented with telephonic recording in 1896, as reported many years later by his associate, Fred Gaisberg. “The result,” Gaisberg recalled, “was a thin metallic thread of sound. The experiment was years ahead of its time.”

The Early Western Electric Experiments

The amplification problem was solved with the advent of Lee De Forest’s audion tube. By 1915, the Bell Telephone system was employing Dr. Harold D. Arnold’s vacuum-tube amplifier in long-distance telephone transmissions. At the same time, Arnold proposed that systematic research into electrical sound recording and reproduction be undertaken by Western Electric, where Henry C. Egerton had already patented an experimental electromagnetic disc-record pickup.

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Henry Egerton’s patent for an electromagnetic pickup,
filed
in November 1914

 

As might be expected of a telecommunications company, Western Electric’s early experiments in electrical sound recording and reproduction were applied largely to telephony. The company’s first commercially produced electrical recorder was Henry Egerton’s 1918 telephone answering machine. The cutter, which employed a principle similar to Egerton’s electromagnetic loudspeaker of 1917, recorded vertically cut wax cylinders. Although the machine was suitable for recording telephone calls and office dictation, it was neither intended for, nor capable of producing, commercial-quality musical recordings.

In 1919 Henry B. Wier, another Western Electric engineer, filed a patent application for a complete electrical sound-recording and playback system. Wier employed an obvious holdover from the acoustic process in his use of a recording horn to focus sound on the microphone. He was able to eliminate much of the distortion that plagued the acoustic recording process by using electrical wave filters to correct resonances in the system — the first practical application of frequency equalization.

Other components of Wier’s system, including the single-button carbon microphone, multiple microphone inputs and mixing controls, vacuum-tube amplifier, master gain control, electromagnetic disc cutter, and switchable loudspeaker and headset monitors, were adapted from the prior work of Egerton and other Western Electric engineers. However, Wier made the mistake, from a business standpoint, of specifying that each performer be confined to an individual, fully enclosed booth. Each booth was to be equipped with a widow through which to view the conductor, and was topped by a conical roof with a microphone inserted at its apex. Whatever its merits from an engineering standpoint, Wier’s concept was utterly impractical for commercial use.

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Henry Wier’s proposed system of isolating individual performers in separate booths, whatever its merits from an engineering standpoint, was impractical
for commercial use.

 

Other shortcomings in Wier’s system were quickly addressed by Western Electric engineers Edward Craft and Edwin Colpitts, who filed a patent application on an electrical recording process in November 1919. Wier’s specification of individual musicians’ booths was immediately discarded. The use of relatively insensitive carbon microphones, another weakness in Wier’s system, was overcome by substituting multiple condenser microphones. 6 Many other components, however, were carried over from Wier’s process. In their patent application, Craft and Colpitts discussed at some length the advantage their system offered over the acoustical process:

“In making records for reproduction in the well-known types of sound reproducing machines, it has been necessary to take great precautions, particularly with respect to the relative location of the artist and the recording mechanism, and to employ artists who are specially trained in record making in order to obtain a record which will reproduce sound with any degree of faithfulness. Thus it has been common for the artist in the case of a voice record to sing or talk into a horn or mouthpiece and to vary the separation of the artist and horn to obtain the desired tonal effects. In the case of instrumental music or in the case of duets or an ensemble of singers, great care has been necessary in grouping the singers or artists relative to the recording point in order to obtain the desired result. In view of the difficulty of training artists and also in view of the difficulty of grouping a large number of instruments for efficient recording, it has been proposed to intercept or pick up the sound waves at a plurality of points and conduct them either acoustically or electrically to a common recording point… The artist or artists merely enter the room or auditorium in which the sound receivers are located, and without regard to the recording apparatus, proceed with their performance.”

Craft’s dispersed placement of microphones and use of multiple channels clearly had the potential to produce stereophonic recordings. Unfortunately, that possibility was not explored at the time. Instead, the multiple signals were mixed to a produce a monophonic recording.

The Craft–Colpitts system saw no use in the commercial disc record industry, but it was briefly adapted to provide synchronized sound to motion picture shorts in 1922. On Friday October 27, 1922, Craft demonstrated his system, synchronized to accompany an animated film, to an audience of electrical engineers at Yale University — the first public demonstration of an electrically recorded phonograph record reproduced by a fully electronic phonograph. Further attempts to develop the system for commercial use were soon scuttled, however. In early 1923 two Western Electric sales executives, George Evans Cullinan and Elbert Hawkins, decided that potential profits from licensing the system were likely to be insufficient to justify further development of the Craft–Colpitts system.

Charles Hoxie, General Electric, and the Pallophotophone

At General Electric, Charles A. Hoxie was also developing an electrical recording system, refining some work he had undertaken for the U.S. Navy during World War I. Unlike Western Electric’s electromagnetic system, Hoxie’s was an optical system. He filed a patent application for a basic photoelectric recording device on April 13, 1918, following up with an improved device in May 1921.

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Charles Hoxie (top photo, right) with unidentified assistant in General Electric’s Schenectady laboratory. A complete Pallophotophone setup is pictured, with the recording unit to the right. The lower photo, from 1922, pictures only the projection unit; the system had not yet been adapted to disc recording.

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Although the original invention was designed to record radio signals on photographic film, Hoxie began to adapt it for commercial applications after the war, at first for motion pictures, and then for disc recording. On December 27, 1921, a patent application was filed on his behalf for a complete electrical disc-recording system employing a photoelectric microphone, amplifier, and electromagnetic disk cutter. By 1922, experimental Pallophotophone recordings were being made on film, and development of disc-mastering capabilities was also under way.

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Charles Hoxie (center) demonstrates the Pallophotophone to RCA executives James G. Harboard (left) and David Sarnoff (right) in May 1923.

 

Hoxie named his system the Pallophotophone — literally, “shaking-light sound.” It was an apt allusion. The sound-collecting device, or Pallotrope, was a photoelectric microphone employing a light beam focused on a tiny, spring-mounted mirror that vibrated in response to sound waves. A short flared horn, attached to the front of the device, served rather inefficiently to collect and focus the sound.

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A simplified explanation of the Pallophotophone system, published by Brunswick-Balke-Collender after it adopted the process in 1925.

 

By late 1922, it was clear to General Electric that Hoxie’s system had potential in the commercial recording market, and he received their backing to make refinements. In 1925, the Pallophotphone system would be adopted by Brunswick-Balke-Collender, with less-than-satisfactory results.

 

Merriman and Guest’s Electro-Mechanical Hybrid

While work progressed at Western Electric and General Electric, many independent inventors were experimenting with electrical recording processes on their own, in the United States and elsewhere. The first publicly issued electrical recordings were made in England by Horace O. Merriman and Lionel Guest, although the process was not entirely electrical. On November 11, 1920, they recorded portions of the burial ceremony for the Unknown Warrior at London’s Westminster Abbey via a cable link to carbon microphones placed inside the building.

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Announcement of the first issued electrical recordings,
December 1920.

 

Merrriman, as an officer in what would soon become the Royal Air Force, had been assigned in 1917 to develop a loudspeaker with sufficient volume to be heard from ground to air. When the R.A.F. abandoned loudspeaker research at the end of World War I, Merriman stated that he and Guest “considered what peace-time use could be made of the findings already made in the research for an electrical speaker. We decided to develop a method of making phonograph records by electricity using the Fessenden vibration motor.”

The Fessenden vibration motor was an electro-mechanical hybrid, driven by a microphone and amplifier, but activating a mechanical cutter. The cutter proved to be the weak link in the system. Lacking the sophisticated damping that would become the hallmark of Western Electric’s all-electric cutter, it produced recordings with high levels of distortion, particularly in the louder passages. Nevertheless, the improved frequency response provided sufficient impetus to pursue the process.

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An illustration of the Merriman-Guest system, showing the Fessenden
“vibration motor.”

 

Guest and Merriman designed the first self-contained recording van and set about making test records, initially only of speech. The team was soon experimenting with musical recordings as well, setting up in Columbia’s London studio, where acoustic and electrical recordings were made simultaneously. Comparing the two version, Merriman recalled, “The range of tone was greater on the electrically made records, but there was considerable distortion.” The process was soon judged unsuitable for Columbia’s use, and the relationship was terminated.

For the Westminster Abbey recordings, horns were attached to the carbon microphones, which were placed throughout the abbey and connected to the recording van by cables. In the end, only two musical selections were deemed acceptable for release. Pressed by Columbia and issued privately as part of a fund-raising project for the abbey, the record enjoyed modest sales, and a copper matrix was donated to the British Museum.

Guest and Merriman then spent a month recording organist Marcel Dupre at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris before departing to the United States at the request of the Submarine Signal Company in Boston. It was a short-lived affiliation, and Guest, Merriman, and his wife went on to rent an apartment in Queens, where they set up an experimental electrical recording studio. Columbia made a series of experimental electrical recordings during November 1921, possibly using Guest’s and Merriman’s equipment. These tests, beginning with a session by Gladys Rice on November 3, 1921, are documented in the Columbia files, 11 but they were quickly suspended, and no issued records resulted.

Having made some technical strides, Merriman recalled that in 1923 he and Guest were invited to make simultaneous recordings during regular commercial Columbia sessions, placing their microphone alongside the recording horn. The resulting electrical recordings clearly exhibited greater frequency response and higher fidelity than their acoustic counterparts, in Merriman’s estimation. But in the meantime, Columbia had passed into the hands of receivers who had no interest in developing electrical recording, and Guest and Merriman abandoned their work. Back in England, the Gramophone Company appointed Brenchley E. G. Mittell to investigate electrical recording processes in November 1923, with no discernible results.

Orlando Marsh and the First American
Electrical Disc Recordings

In the United States, Orlando Marsh had been developing an electrical recording system since approximately 1914. A 1931 advertising flyer declared, “Seventeen years ago, Marsh instituted the first electrical recording lab in the world.” At that time, Marsh is known to have been employed by George K. Spoor’s Essanay movie studio in Chicago. It seems likely that Marsh was responsible for the Spoor Sound-Scriber, a cylinder-record system designed to be synchronized with motion pictures. In 1977 researcher Tim Fabrizio discovered the device, along with a cracked celluloid cylinder, in the vault of the International Museum of Photography and restored it to working order.

Once repaired and played, the Spoor cylinder turned out to be a promotional skit for the process, on which a speaker declares that the recording “is accomplished by special telephonic apparatus. That is all I can say about the system.” Although it is impossible to say definitively whether the recording was electrical, Fabrizio noted a “thin, hollow, even garbled character…unlike any acoustical or home recording I had ever heard. Yet, there seemed an odd sensitivity to peripheral noise.”

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The earliest confirmed Marsh disc recording, made in the yard of Chicago’s Essanay movie studio (John R. T. Davies, via Malcolm Shaw)

 

The earliest confirmed Marsh disc recording (matrix #2, a test pressing of which was discovered by the late John R. T. Davies), was of the George Spoor and the Wood Brothers Quartet singing “Bells of Shandon.” According to its handwritten label, the recording was made “in the open air 12 ft distance in the yard of the Essanay Co.” The recording probably dates to to the autumn of 1921. Marsh continued to record at Essanay through late 1922, then consolidated his office and studio in Chicago’s Kimball Building.

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(Above) Orlando Marsh recording in the Chicago Theatre, 1924; note the old-fashioned phonograph horn being used to focus sound on the microphone. (Below) Orlando Marsh in his laboratory, date unknown.

By then, Marsh was producing electrically recorded masters for his own Autograph label, as well as for several short-run custom labels that included Messiah Sacred Records, Crown Records, Greek Record Company, and Ideal Sacred Records. Although these were the earliest  electrical recordings to reach the American market (albeit primitive ones) — beating Columbia and Victor by three years — the labels carried no notation to that effect. The claim would not appear on Autograph labels until 1925. At that point, Marsh declared himself “The Originator of Electrical Recording,” but he never patented his process.

Early Experimentation at the Major Companies

Among the market leaders, Thomas Edison had experimented sporadically with telephonic recording, to no avail. After World War I, he had even attempted to make recordings using surplus military radio equipment. Recalling those experiments, he stated, “I found when I tried [radio] for recording there was too much mutilation of sounds, which is rather difficult to overcome.”

Frank L. Dyer, a longtime Edison associate, filed a patent application for an electromagnetic recording head in February 1921, but apparently nothing was done to develop it, and Thomas Edison remained emphatically opposed to the process. His company would be the last to convert to electrical recording, one of several factors that led to its demise in 1929.

For a newcomer like the Brunswick-Balke-Collender Company, however, electrical recording must have seemed promising. In December 1920, Percy L. Deutsch, Brunswick’s vice-president and grandson of company founder J. M. Brunswick, initiated formal research into electrical recording. Although circumstantial evidence suggests that Deutsch was aware of General Electric’s experimentation with electrical recording processes, the initial experiments were carried out independently at Brunswick’s Chicago headquarters. Deutsch entrusted much of this work to inventor Benjamin Franklin Meissner, who had earned a reputation as an expert in wireless torpedo-guidance systems during World War I.

 The Talking Machine World for December 1921 reported that Meissner had “for some months been working in the Brunswick experimental laboratories here [in Chicago] on various methods for converting sound waves into electrical waves, and reconverting these back to sound waves on the phonograph record.” Meissner conducted experimental electrical sessions at the Brunswick studio during much of 1921. Unfortunately, paper documentation of these sessions has vanished along with Brunswick’s early recording ledgers. Test pressings are rumored to survive, but to date, none has been reliably reported.

In December, TMW also broke the news of Brunswick’s experiments with wireless remote disc mastering in Chicago. On November 22, an operatic performance was transmitted from the Auditorium Theatre to a Magnavox receiver in the Brunswick laboratory. There, TMW reported, “the electrical waves were switched from the Magnavox directly to the recording apparatus.” Despite an apparently promising start, no commercially issued records resulted from Meissner’s experiments, and Brunswick seems to have abandoned its electrical experiments in 1922.

As Meissner was winding down his work at Brunswick, Albertis Hewitt was undertaking similar experiments at Victor. Hewitt and James W. Owen, another Victor engineer, had been experimenting with microphones since 1916, when they patented an improved design for use in “the recording or reproduction of sound.” Hewitt went on to patent many other devices relating to electrical recording and reproduction over the next eighteen years, all of which were assigned to the Victor Talking Machine Company or the Radio Corporation of America. However, when Hewitt began experimentation in earnest at Victor in 1922, it was not with his own equipment, but with Pallophotophone equipment loaned to him by Charles Hoxie.

Hewitt’s experimental electrical installation was completed at Victor’s Camden studio on December 7, 1922, and the next day he conducted the first of many test sessions, beginning with staff pianist Myrtle Eaver. More tests were conducted over the next two weeks, involving Eaver and tenor William Robyn, with musical director Joseph Pasternack voicing his approval of the results. A final report on the Pallophotophone tests was drafted at the end of the month and apparently was buried, after which no more was heard of the device at Victor. Hewitt, however, continued to make some experimental recordings from radio broadcasts during 1922–1924 using an electrical recorder of his own design. In 1923 he undertook further microphone experiments for Victor.

In the end, nothing came of Hewitt’s research, and Victor continued to record acoustically. Probably unaware of Hewitt’s secret experiments, orchestra leader Paul Whiteman invested heavily in the electrical recording process of an unnamed English inventor in 1923, hoping to license it to Victor. For his efforts, Whiteman earned only a rebuff from company executives.

Frank Capps also experimented independently with electrical recording. On November 10, 1923, he recorded former president Woodrow Wilson’s Armistice Day speech, as broadcast on over radio station WEAF (New York). Capps — who allegedly was later involved in leaking news of Western’s Electric’s proposed Victor deal to Louis Sterling at Columbia’s English branch — sent his masters to be processed by the Compo Company in Canada, a venture headed by Emile Berliner’s son Herbert. It is tempting to speculate that Capps’ electrical masters were the impetus for Herbert Berliner’s own experiments, which resulted in the first Canadian electrical recordings.

Western Electric Courts the Recording Industry

While the phonograph companies were abandoning their in-house experiments, and Orlando Marsh was puttering with his homemade electrical equipment, Western Electric’s engineers were making steady progress toward a high-quality, commercially viable electrical recording system during 1922–1923. The team of Joseph P. Maxfield and Henry Harrison had recently taken over much of the project, signaling a definitive change in corporate attitude toward electrical recording methods.

Thus far, Western Electric’s engineers had worked under highly controlled conditions in laboratories that had little in common with concert halls or commercial recording studios. However, Maxfield was now determined to deal with the variables inherent in recording live performances in public venues. He had already experimented with remote electrical recording, establishing a wireless connection from New York’s Capitol Theatre to Western Electric’s experimental recording laboratory and broadcast station at 463 West Street in late 1922. By 1923, Western Electric was regularly making test recordings via the remote link from the Capitol Theatre. The company also made experimental recordings from radio broadcasts, including excerpts from the 1923–1924 New York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra’s broadcasts over radio station WEAF.

The Capitol Theatre’s cavernous space presented an especially difficult challenge to the Western Electric team. After much experimentation in the theater, the engineers determined that the microphone placement needed to replicate what was heard by an average member of the audience was forty feet above floor level, and forty feet in front of the stage. The quality of these early electrical recordings varied tremendously, as surviving test pressings demonstrate. Several Western Electric experimental pressings have surfaced in recent years, the earliest of them a Capitol Theater performance dated July 20, 1923. Other surviving test pressings include public performances by the New York Philharmonic under Willem van Hoogstraten, made in December 1923, and some January 1924 recordings from WEAF radio broadcasts.

Maxfield emphasized the importance of the studio monitor, volume level indicator, and potentiometer in his process, establishing a degree of control unattainable with the acoustic process:

“Without the monitoring system, the fact that a record is unsatisfactory cannot be ascertained until the master record is made, plated, and reproduced…. In the case of “acoustical” recording from a symphony orchestra, the orchestra must play so that the fortissimo is suppressed and the pianissimo amplified in order to drive the stylus within proper bounds. With the present system, such an orchestra may play with natural force and effect, the current from the amplifier being kept within proper limits by manipulating the potentiometer as suggested by monitoring with loudspeaker and voltmeter.”

In October 1923, Maxfield filed a patent on an improved electrical recording system. Well aware of the failings of the earlier, cumbersome Wier and Craft–Colpitts processes, he greatly simplified the apparatus. At this juncture, Maxfield appears to have still been concerned primarily with the recording of live rather than studio performances, noting in his patent application, “The object of the present invention is to produce master phonograph records electrically without interfering with the public performance of the artist or artists.”

While Maxfield satisfactorily addressed the technical aspects of an electrical recording system, its suitability for commercial applications had so far gone largely unexplored. Little commercial demand could be anticipated for Maxfield’s live recordings, other than as a source of broadcast material. Consequently, Maxfield set out to refine his system for commercial studio use. In December 1923 he filed a patent application on a “studio for acoustic purposes,” stating,

“The object of the invention is to provide a studio in which sounds may be recorded or broadcasted with substantially all the natural effects that an auditor listening directly to the sounds would receive… More specifically, the invention provides a studio in which the walls are damped by a hanging curtain or applying other damping material to the walls, damping them to a degree such that the reverberation will be between .5 of a second and 1.0 second.… The curtains may be hung on horizontal poles or rods by any suitable fasteners which may be slideable on the rods, whereby the curtains may be adjusted to cover any desired surface to control the damping.… The ceiling as shown is not damped, but the floor is substantially covered with a heavy rug. Smaller rugs may be used on the floor and damping material may also be used on the ceiling if desired.”

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Maxfield’s design for an electrical recording studio would be
adopted by Victor in 1925.

 

Henry Harrison made improvements to the electromagnetic cutter in early 1924. Charts included in his patent filing depict a fairly flat frequency response curve ranging from 35 to nearly 8,000 cycles per second. In contrast, the very best acoustic recordings could only offer a range of approximately 200 to 3,000 cycles per second, and few studios other than Edison’s performed even that well. However, much of the experimentation at Western Electric had been carried out using nonstandard disc formats designed to take full advantage of the new electromagnetic cutter, without regard for the needs of commercial producers. Oversized, vertically cut, and lacking the abrasive fillers required in commercial shellac pressings, these discs were superior from an engineering perspective, but they were totally incompatible with the millions of phonographs already in homes.

Anticipating resistance from an industry that was heavily invested in the standard ten- or twelve-inch lateral-cut shellac disc, the Western Electric engineers began to tailor their system to that format. The result was a recording curve designed to compress a modern, wide-range electrical recording into a groove configuration and disc format that were relics of the nineteenth century. With a reduced frequency range of approximately 100–5,000 cycles per second, the new Western Electric process still offered dramatic improvement over the best acoustic recordings, but fell far short of what could be achieved under laboratory conditions.

Columbia and Victor Go Electric

With a commercially viable system finally complete, Western Electric approached the Victor Talking Machine Company. In February 1924, Victor executives George W. Smith and Fenimore Johnson visited the Western Electric laboratories for a demonstration of the new electrically recorded discs. As they soon discovered, the process would not come cheaply. Western Electric demanded royalties on sales of all records made by their process, and further stipulated that Victor’s studios be rebuilt to Joseph Maxfield’s exact specifications.

Victor president Eldridge R. Johnson, coping with health problems and declining revenues from record sales, tabled the Western Electric proposal. The Victor Talking Machine Company had always developed its technology internally, but the Western Electric deal would require the active involvement of outsiders. In addition, the swift transition that adoption of the system would entail was at odds with Eldridge Johnson’s conservative approach to product development. Just four years earlier, he had declared to the press, “It will take twenty-five years more to perfect the talking machine.”

According to an oft-repeated story, Western Electric made its initial offer only to Victor. In the meantime, the tale continues, a bit of industrial spying was under way that would rob Victor of its potential edge. Under the supervision of Russell Hunting, Western Electric was pressing 16” test records at Pathé’s Brooklyn plant, which was the only U.S. plant equipped at that time to press the oversized discs. According to this tale, which appears with some variations in several early phonograph histories, Hunting leaked word of the process to his old business associate, Louis Sterling, at Columbia’s London headquarters. Purloined Western Electric tests are said to have arrived in London on December 24, 1924, with Sterling setting sail for the U.S. two days later, frantic to negotiate use of the Western Electric system for Columbia.

Unfortunately, this widely circulated account is seriously flawed in many respects, and it is contradicted by dated test pressings. Sterling did indeed sail to the United States in December 1924, but for the purpose of acquiring rights to the Western Electric system for English Columbia, under the same terms that Western Electric had already offered to both Columbia and Victor in the United States.

In fact, Western Electric had begun making test recordings for both of those companies many months before Sterling’s visit, as proven by a surprisingly large number of surviving test pressings. The earliest of these electrical tests to surface thus far, made for Columbia, shows a recording date of August 25, 1924, in the wax. Many other Columbia electrical tests exist that show dates throughout the late summer and autumn of 1924 in the wax.

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Two Columbia-Western Electric tests, both from September 1924. By that time, electrical tests were being produced in sufficient quantity that a special label was introduced for them. (Courtesy of Kurt Nauck)

 

Columbia made some of its most notable performers available for these early Western Electric tests, including violinist George Enescu and soprano Florence Macbeth. Although files for the earliest tests have not been located, the excellent sound quality on surviving test pressings is clearly indicative of Western Electric’s work. The earliest surviving confirmation in Columbia’s files that Western Electric equipment was indeed in use is a notation for a session on November 10, 1924. Clearly, a Columbia–Western Electric alliance had been forged well before Sterling’s December dash to the States.

At the same time, Western Electric was also recording tests for Victor, despite Eldridge Johnson’s apparent lack of interest. Electrically recorded Victor test pressings, showing dates in the wax ranging from October 7 to December 17, 1924, survive in a private collection. Interestingly, neither Harry nor Raymond Sooy, Victor’s chief recording engineers, mentioned these sessions in their memoirs. Harry Sooy recalled having first been apprised of “three or four records submitted by the Western Electric Company” on January 3, 1925. It is therefore likely that these early test sessions, which are not documented in the surviving Victor files, were conducted in Western Electric’s studios rather than Victor’s.

Although Victor was clearly considering the Western Electric process during the autumn of 1924, it took news of the impending Columbia–Western Electric deal to force Eldridge Johnson’s hand. Threatened with obsolescence at the hands of his old rival, Eldridge Johnson finally assented to Western Electric’s terms, which included an advance payment of $50,000 in addition to the royalty clause that had caused earlier caused him to balk. The deal was a closely guarded secret — so much so, that no mention of it appears in the minutes of Victor’s managing committee.

On January 27, 1925, Western Electric dispatched Joseph Maxfield to Camden to lay out the wiring for Victor’s first electrically equipped studio in Building No. 15. The Western Electric equipment was shipped to Camden on February 2 and arrived the following day. The first electrical session to be held there — an experimental piano solo recording by one Mr. Watkins — occurred on February 9. Over the next several days, experimental sessions continued with Helen Clark, Elsie Baker, Olive Kline, and other Victor studio artists.

While the Western Electric installation was under way at Victor, Columbia was readying its own Western Electric system for commercial use. In January 1925 the company had Art Gillham, “The Whispering Pianist,” make a series of electrical recordings. Gillham was an excellent choice to demonstrate the new system’s capabilities. His subdued crooning style was poorly suited the old acoustic system, but it registered quite well with the microphone. The results were good enough that three Gillham selections, recorded on February 25, 1925, were accepted for release.

Just one day after Gillham’s electrical Columbia session, the Eight Famous Victor Artists (a traveling promotional troupe featuring Billy Murray and Henry Burr) were assembled at Camden to make comparison recordings of “A Miniature Concert” using Victor’s acoustic and Western Electric’s electrical equipment. Initially, the acoustic version was approved for release, but in April there was a change of heart on the part of Victor management. Instead, the electrical tests, covering two sides of a 12” disc, were approved for a July 1925 release on Victor 35753.

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Let the conversion begin: The Victor Recording Book sheet for the electrical version of “A Miniature Concert,” which was recorded as an experiment but was then approved for release in place of the acoustic version.

 

The “Miniature Concert” comprised the earliest electrical recordings to be released by Victor. They were not, however, the first Victor release to use an electrically recorded master. That honor is held by the Mask and Wig Club Male Quartet’s rendition of “Joan of Arkansas,” recorded on March 16, 1925, and released on Victor 19626 a month before “A Miniature Concert.”

At the end of February, with finalization of its Western Electric deal virtually assured, Columbia became the first major record producer to convert to fill-time electrical recording. Acoustic recording sessions for full-priced releases were suspended on February 28 at Columbia’s New York studio (acoustic equipment remained in use for several more years, but only for recordings allocated to Harmony and other low-priced labels).

Two of Gillham’s February sides were listed in the May 1925 Talking Machine World advance list for a June release on Columbia 328-D, the earliest electrical recordings to be issued by Columbia. In the same listing were four sides recorded electrically during a March 31 public performance by the 850-voice Associated Glee Clubs of America — the first “live” electrical recordings to be issued in the United States.

There was nothing in the new listings or advertisements that might alert the public that Columbia was employing a new recording technology, nor would there be for another year. The only clue, other than an obvious change in sound quality, was a circled-W logo in the pressing, required as part of the licensing agreement with Western Electric. Even that small hint was absent on some of the earliest pressings.

Columbia’s adoption of the electrical process had the unforeseen effect of driving the company into the cheap-record market. Having invested heavily in improvements to its acoustic studios in 1924, Columbia decided to recoup its costs by launching a low-priced label that would continue to use acoustically recorded masters. The result was the introduction of Harmony, a 50¢ brand, in September 1925. Velvet Tone, a companion label using the same masters and couplings as Harmony, followed in the summer of 1926. Both labels continued to use acoustically recorded masters through 1929, although the occasional electrical master (probably recorded for the full-priced line but rejected) found its way into the series.

Victor lagged a bit behind Columbia in its conversion. The electrical sessions of February through mid-March 1925 were still considered trials, although they yielded some recordings that were approved for release. The Western Electric contract was finally signed on March 18, and at the end of that month, Victor retired the recording horns in the Camden studios. However, the company was in the process of acquiring a new studio location in New York at the time; thus, Victor’s first New York electrical sessions were delayed until July 31, 1925.

Both companies began releasing electrical recordings with some regularity beginning in the early summer of 1925. However, neither Victor nor Columbia publicly acknowledged the conversion during 1925–26, allowing themselves time to dispose of obsolete acoustic stock while building new catalogs from scratch. The closest Victor came to publicly acknowledging the new process was Eldridge Johnson’s misleading statement, in response Brunswick’s introduction of the electric Panatrope in August 1925, that the company would soon introduce a new system representing “the ultimate in sound reproduction.” 25 Johnson coyly refused to elaborate on the new recordings to a New York Times reporter, even though they had already been on the market for several months. But the change was immediately obvious to dealers and consumers alike, and by the end of 1925 Victor dealers were openly referring to the new process, even if the manufacturer was not.

Victor’s Canadian branch took the opposite approach, heralding the new electrics in July 1925 with a national advertising campaign, and initiating deep price cuts on its now-obsolete acoustically recorded discs. The impetus might have come from Herbert Berliner’s upstart Compo Company, which had begun marketing electrically recorded discs on its Apex label in Canada. “New Victor V.E. Process a Master Stroke in Recording,” the ads proclaimed. “All the new July releases out today are recorded by the new V.E. process.”

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Victor’s Canadian affiliate was the first to publicly announce the company’s conversion to electrical recording, in July 1925. Its American counterpart waited until 1926, as did Columbia.

 

In October 1926, Western Electric loaned Joseph Maxfield to Victor to pursue further improvements in the electrical process. Appointed as Victor’s manager of research and development in September 1927,  Maxfield was given free rein to remake the Victor studios to his specifications. Remote recording locations were added or upgraded, including the Philadelphia Academy of Music and New York’s Liederkranz Hall. Camden’s former Trinity Baptist Church, converted to a Victor studio during the acoustic era, was thoroughly overhauled, including replacement of the original organ. A New York Times reporter who toured the studio observed,

“Hidden from view is the arched roof to which boomed hasannas and hymns… a flat, sound-proof and false ceiling of burlap is better for recording. An organ is there, to be sure, but it is a special one recently installed, and now there is a microphone before it. … Downstairs, where prayer books had been stored … is some $150,000 equipment bearing trademarks of Western Electric, Electrical Research Products, and Victor Talking Machine.”

For a time, the church did double duty as a temporary Vitaphone sound stage, with the lower level used for filming. Films were shot as silents, and the actors then dubbed their parts onto synchronized discs in the main church recording studio.

New, unfamiliar equipment and studios required that studio engineers be retrained or even replaced. Nathaniel Shilkret, one of the few veteran Victor musical directors to make the transition successfully, recounted his company’s problems in adapting the new process:

“Almost everything that had been learned about orchestration and recording seemed useless. The musician’s favorite tricks in orchestration became obsolete; the recorders’ art of handling the recording horns had no more value…. No doubt you will be interested to know that our first successful recordings were with the symphonic orchestras, large choirs and whispering vocalists. Then came the Salon Orchestra which improved immensely over the old recordings, after most of us were convinced that this new way of recording an intimate style of orchestra would never do at all. The piano quality of the new recordings, while not perfect, is surely superior to the old recordings. The tenor voice gave us plenty of grief for a while. At first they sounded rather thick, like baritones. At times, hollow; but all voices finally were conquered. And to think that all this has happened in about one year and a half.”

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Nathaniel Shilkret (front row, third from left) and orchestra in a
Maxfield-designed Victor studio.

 

Pressings were proving to be a weak link in the new system, with dealers complaining that the surfaces were noisy and prone to premature wear. The increased surface noise resulted from use of a coarser, more abrasive pressing material developed for the new electric discs, while the tendency toward premature wear resulted from the more heavily modulated groove.

One of Maxfield’s solutions to the latter problem was to slightly smooth the master recording by high-speed mechanical burnishing “at a pressure which is reasonably constant and of just sufficient magnitude to cause a very slight surface flow of the material without macerating it.” Charles O’Connell, a later Victor recording director, took a dim view of the practice, recalling that masters “Went flawless into these laboratories. They emerged pitted, peaked, and perverted. I say perverted because in some instances, in an effort to reduce the scratch that inexpert handling had brought to the records, a polishing stone was run through the grooves, eliminating some of the scratch and all of the high frequencies that give music color and brilliance.”

The general public, still playing its records on steel-needle acoustic machines with tracking forces measured in pounds rather than grams, would scarcely have noticed such technical flaws. Victor’s record sales rebounded in 1926, jumping to nearly 32 million copies from the previous year’s 25 million. The leap into electrical recording had come at a high cost to Victor’s shareholders, however. In July 1925, the company announced that it was suspending its quarterly dividends in view of “important improvements in the product [that] will require considerable outlay of funds.”

____________________________________________________

COMING IN PART 2: Herbert Berliner, General Electric, RCA,
and the Minor-Label Systems

____________________________________________________

 

Selected References

“A New Invention” (re: Marsh’s Kimball Building studio). Billboard (January 13, 1923), p. 58.

“Advance Record Bulletins for June 1925.” Talking Machine World (May 15, 1925), p. 157.

“Advance Record Bulletins for July 1925.” Talking Machine World (June 15, 1925), p. 166.

Biel, Michael Jay. The Making and Use of Recordings in Broadcasting Before 1936. Dissertation, Northwestern University (1977), pp. 284–285.

Brooks, Tim. Columbia Master Record Book — Vol. 1. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1999.

“Camden in Film Field.” New York Times (August 26, 1928), p. 98.

Craft, Edward B., and Colpitts, Edwin H. U.S. Patent #1,540,317 (filed November 25, 1919).

Dyer, Frank L. “Magnetic Recorder.” U.S. Patent #1,544,379 (filed February 16, 1921; issued June 30, 1925).

Egerton, Henry Clifford. “Phonographic Transmitter.” U.S. Patent #1,246,895 (filed November 25, 1914; issued November 20, 1917).

— . “Telephonic Recording and Reproducing Apparatus.” U.S. Patent #1,284,623 (filed February 1, 1918; issued November 12, 1918).

Fabrizio, T. C. “Before the Jazz Singer” (re: Spoor Sound-Scriber). Antique Phonograph Monthly (V:5, 1977), pp. 3–6.

— . “The Spoor Sound-Scriber and its Relation to the Sound Synchronization of Motion Pictures,” and  “Transcription of the ‘Spoor’ Cylinder.” Antique Phonograph Monthly (V:6, 1977), pp. 5–8.

Giovannoni, David. E-mail to author re early Victor–Western Electric test recordings (September 15, 2007).

Guest, Lionel George William, and Merriman, Horace Owen. “Improved Means for Recording Sound.” British Patent Office: Patent Application #141,790 (filed January 18, 1919; issued April 19, 1920).

Guest, Lionel George William, and Merriman, Horace Owen. “Improved Means for Recording Sound.” British Patent Office: Patent Application #141,790 (filed January 18, 1919; issued April 19, 1920).

Harrison, Henry C. “Device for the Transmission of Vibratory Energy.” U.S. Patent #1,663,884 (filed May 5, 1924; issued May 27, 1928).

“Historic Gramophone Records — Major Guest and the Abbey Service.” London Observer (December 12, 1920), p. 17.

Hoxie, Charles A. “Production of Phonographic Records.” U.S. Patent #1,637,903 (filed December 28, 1921; issued August 2, 1927).

— . “Recording Apparatus.” U.S. Patent #1,456,595 (filed April 13, 1918; issued May 29, 1924), assigned to General Electric Company.

Marsh Laboratories, Inc. (advertising flyer, 1931).

Maxfield, Joseph P. “Phonograph System.” U.S. Patent #1,661,539 (filed October 2, 1923; issued March 6, 1928).

— . “Studio for Acoustic Purposes.” U.S. Patent #1,719,481 (filed December l5, 1923; issued July 2, 1929).

Merriman, H. O. “Sound Recording by Electricity, 1919–1924.” Talking Machine Review (June 1976), pp. 666–670, 680–681.

Nauck, Kurt. Vintage Record Auction #33 (containing a large group of early Columbia–Western Electric test pressings). Spring, TX: Nauck’s Vintage Records (April–May 2003), p. 11.

 O’Connell, Charles C. The Other Side of the Record, p. 126. New York: Alfred A. Knopf (1947).

Owen, James W., and Albertis Hewitt. “Microphone.” U.S. Patent #1,509,818 (filed August 25, 1916; granted September 23, 1924), assigned to the Victor Talking Machine Company.

“Record Opera via Wireless.” Talking Machine World (December 15, 1921), p. 118.

“Sales by Class of Record and Total Sales of Records by Units, Years 1901 and 1941 Inclusive.” Exhibit in: U.S. Dist. Court, D.D. of N.Y., January 26, 1943.

Shilkret, Nathaniel. “Modern Electrical Methods of Recording.” Phonograph Monthly Review (June 1927), p. 382.

Sooy, Harry O. “Memoir of My Career at Victor Talking Machine Company.” Unpublished manuscript, n.d. David Sarnoff Library, Princeton, NJ.

Tennyson, James R. “Oh, Canada!” New Amberola Graphic (July 1987), p. 5.

“The Future Development of the Talking Machine.” Talking Machine World (July 15, 1920), p. 16.

Victor Talking Machine Company. Managing Committee Minutes, Vol. 1 (1924–1926).

— . Recording ledgers (Sony archives, New York); data courtesy of John R. Bolig.

 “Victor Talking Machine Co. Omits Quarterly Dividend.” Talking Machine World (July 15, 1925), p. 110.

Watkins, Stanley. “Madame, Will You Talk?” Bell Laboratories Record, August 1946 (Vol. XXIV, No. VIII), p. 291.

Whiteman, Paul (David A. Stein, editor). Music for the Millions, p. 5–7. New York: Hermitage Press, 1948.

Wier, Henry B. “Recording of Music and Speech” (U.S. Patent application filed August 14, 1919). The patent was later divided into recording and playback sections, with the recording portion (#1,765,517) not being granted until June 24, 1930.

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© 2019 by Allan R. Sutton. All rights are reserved.

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The Okeh Vertical-Cut Discography (1918 – 1919) • Free Download

Click to Download PDF:

THE OKEH VERTICAL-CUT DISCOGRAPHY
(1918 – 1919)

 

Compiled by George Blacker with the
Record Research Associates

 

One of the late George Blacker’s many projects that never saw publication, The Okeh Vertical-Cut Discography was compiled from firsthand inspection of the original discs, with the assistance of members of the Record Research group. We are pleased to finally be able to offer it, especially since it adds substantially to the rather sketchy material in Laird & Rust’s Greenwood Press discography.

This discography is being offered free of charge for personal use only. Reproduction or other use exceeding customary fair-use standards is prohibited without the prior written consent of Mainspring Press. Please e-mail us with any questions concerning fair use, or with corrections and additions.

Some of these recording were also issued under the Rishell label in the U.S., and the Phonola label in Canada. These issues, for which we are still gathering and fact-checking data, will be added in a later update to the discography.

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1918

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1919

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In addition to distributing Okeh records, Rishell briefly marketed some Okeh pressings under their own label.

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American Record Corporation / Brunswick Record Corporation Ephemera (1935 – 1937)

Many, many decades ago, CBS disposed of their remaining American Record Corporation and Brunswick Record Corporation marketing materials, some of which found their way into the hands of collectors. These were still fairly plentiful as late as the 1980s, but have since become increasingly scarce on the open market. Here are a few of the most interesting examples, all in “warehouse mint” condition (we have multiple copies of some items, in case anyone’s interested in trading for similar material).

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Shaped, die-cut display piece for Josh White’s “No More Ball and Chain” (1936)

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Circular die-cut folder for Duke Ellington’s “Reminiscing in Tempo.” The inside panels contain quotes from recent reviews, and the back lists Ellington’s current Brunswick releases. (1935)

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Race-record handouts for a couple of 1937 releases by Big Bill Broonzy. Identical handouts exist for the corresponding Romeo releases.

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1935 flyer for the Carter Family on Conqueror, a client label
produced for Sears by ARC.

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Window hanger for Billy Costello’s “Popeye” release (1935)

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Four-panel folder featuring selections from Fred Astaire’s
“Top Hat”  (1935)

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Jukebox display card for Louis Prima’s New Orleans Gang
(c. 1936)

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Gene Autry photo, with photo on the front and record list on the back. (1937)

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Hoosier Hot Shots handout, with photo on the front and record list on the back. Also exists in black-and-white. (1936)

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For a detailed history of ARC-BRC and associated companies, be sure to check out American Record Companies and Producers, 1888-1950 — a limited edition available from Mainspring Press while supplies last.

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Forgotten “Blues Craze” Singers • Esther Bigeou

Forgotten “Blues Craze” Singers • Esther Bigeou
By Allan Sutton

 

The success of Mamie Smith’s “Crazy Blues” in 1920 set off a mad scramble among record companies for similar artists. Many of the women who were signed in the early days of the “blues craze” — like Esther Bigeou — were not blues singers at all, but vaudeville comediennes who specialized in blues-inflected pop tunes.

From a prominent New Orleans Creole family, Bigeou married theatrical producer Irvin C. Miller and was soon landing featured roles in his stage productions. She first attracted the critics’ attention in 1915, in Miller’s Mr. Ragtime.

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Miller and unidentified female cast members, one them presumably Esther Bigeou, from Mr. Ragtime (September 1915)

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Praise for Bigeou in The New York Age (September 9, 1915)

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Bigeou went on to star in Miller’s Broadway Rastus, which opened at the Lafayette Theatre in Harlem in July 1917, after a try-out on the road that took the company throughout the mid-Atlantic states.

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An overworked Esther Bigeou takes a break (August 1917)

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Suffering from “a variety of ailments due to overwork,” Bigeou took a break for several weeks after Broadway Rastus closed its brief run at the Lafayette. The company was soon on the road again, embarking on a year-long tour during which audiences and critics alike heaped praises on Bigeou.

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Broadway Rastus on the road: Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
(September 1918)

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By early 1920, Bigeou had parted ways with Miller and was touring in Perrin & Henderson’s Lyric Road Show, an obscure revue that also starred “Mlle.” Rosa Henderson, who would become one of the most prolific of the “blues craze” recording artists. Miller’s Put and Take opened at the Town Hall, New York, on August 23, 1921. The female featured role, which might have gone to Bigeou, instead was given to Edith Wilson. Miller went on to marry Kathryn Boyd, who was given a position as Miller’s road manager that she found to be “a little too strenuous.”

The Okeh label signed Bigeou in the autumn of 1921. Her first release, a coupling of the already over-used “Memphis Blues” and “St. Louis Blues” (Okeh 8026) appeared in the Christmas 1921 list but seems to have attracted little attention. “Stingaree Blues,” her November follow-up (Okeh 8025), seems to have sold reasonably well based on the number of surviving copies, despite its plodding accompaniment.

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Many of Bigeou’s Okeh releases were covers of other artists’ hits on competing labels — in this case, Bessie Smith’s popular Columbia recording of “Gulf Coast Blues.”

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Although Okeh did not renew Bigeou at the end of 1923, she continued to promote her records for a time (Pittsburgh, February 1924)

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Overall, Bigeou’s Okeh output will disappoint hard-core blues enthusiasts. The performances are purely in the vaudeville-blues vein, with accompaniments ranging from mediocre to awful, and many are simply cover versions of other singers’ hits on competing labels. Okeh released seventeen Bigeou titles before letting her go at the end of 1923. Only her last is of above-average interest, with a rollicking accompaniment by the Piron orchestra that imparts a Creole flavor not evident on her other recordings:

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ESTHER BIGEOU with ARMAND J. PIRON’S NEW ORLEANS ORCHESTRA: West Indies Blues

New York: December 1923
Okeh 8118 (mx. S-72175 – B)

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Okeh recorded Bigeou again in December 1926, accompanied by Clarence Williams’ Blue Five, but no issues resulted. By then, Bigeou was touring with her own company on the T.O.B.A. vaudeville circuit. In late 1927, she joined the cast of Southland Follies. But perhaps her most visible role was as a celebrity endorser of  Hi-Ja beauty products, in whose ads she appeared from 1925 through 1929.

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1925

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1929

 

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© 2019 by Allan R. Sutton. All rights are resered.

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Fletcher Henderson’s Satellite Bands (1924 – 1929)

Fletcher Henderson’s Satellite Bands (1924 – 1929)
By Allan Sutton

 

 

One aspect of Fletcher Henderson’s career that’s been generally overlooked by most of his biographers is his use of “satellite” bands — those second-string groups that busy bandleaders dispatched  under their names to tour the boondocks or play low-prestige events like college and civic-group dances. This was a common practice in the 1920s, known to have been engaged in by Harry A. Yerkes*, Ed Kirkeby, and other popular band leaders and managers.

The first mention of a suspected Henderson satellite band appeared in March 1925. Henderson’s Rainbow Orchestra, it was reported, was a new unit that would “bid for popular favor against Mr. Henderson’s original Roseland Orchestra.”

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An early mention of Henderson’s Rainbow Orchestra (March 1925)

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Whether Henderson’s Rainbow Orchestra was a separate unit, as the article suggests, or perhaps just a small group drawn from the main band, remains unclear. No recordings credited to Fletcher Henderson’s Rainbow Orchestra are known. The name (sometimes spelled “Rainbo”) appeared in newspaper ads off-and-on for a few months, mostly in connection with a touring band that played the smaller cities in Pennsylvania and central New York state.

There is far more certainty surrounding Fletcher Henderson’s Collegians. This appears to have been a group of younger musicians who were employed primarily as a touring band. The name first appeared in the autumn of 1925, with one advertisement describing the group as “A Fletcher Henderson unit of young colored boys full of ‘pep.’”

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Altoona, Pennsylvania (October 2, 1925)

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Based on strong circumstantial and aural evidence, it seems virtually certain that the Collegians were a Henderson satellite band. There are confirmed instances of the group appearing in far-flung locations on the same dates that Henderson’s main band is known to have been performing, recording, or broadcasting in New York city. The Plaza Music Company released three very un-Hendersonlike sides credited to Fletcher Henderson’s Collegians, and they can come as a bitter disappointment to unwary collectors. The mundane stock arrangements and total absence of Henderson’s own readily recognizable soloists strongly suggest that these recordings were the work of a band that was his in name only:

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FLETCHER HENDERSON’S COLLEGIANS (Andy Razaf, vocal):
Dear, On a Night Like This

New York (Independent Recording Laboratory): November 26, 1927
Regal 8441  (mx. 7622 – 3)

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Ads for Henderson’s Collegians vanished in early 1928. In the meantime, another apparent satellite band had surfaced — Fletcher Henderson’s Stompers (not to be confused with The Dixie Stompers, an alias that Columbia used to mask the actual Henderson band, or a small unit derived from it, on its low-priced Harmony and Velvet Tone labels). Ads for the Stompers began appearing in the autumn of 1927. An article from October of that year reported that Henderson’s brother Horace was directing the group:

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Horace Henderson as director of Fletcher Henderson’s Stompers
(Pittsburgh, October 1927)

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The Stompers’ itinerary is well documented in newspapers of the period. Like the Collegians, they are known to have been traveling on some dates when the main Henderson band was performing or recording in New York or Chicago. Occasional ads declaring that “Fletcher Henderson himself” would appear suggest that his presence with the group might have been something out of the ordinary. The Stompers spent the autumn of 1927 and early winter of 1928 crisscrossing Pennsylvania and parts of New York state. Aside from Pittsburgh, the band played mostly smaller cities and college towns.

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Benny Carter as director of Fletcher Henderson’s Stompers (Mansfield, Ohio, September 1928). Several months later, Horace Henderson took over the Stompers name for his own band.

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One Bennett Carter took over direction of the Stompers in the summer of 1928. Better known to modern listeners as saxophonist and arranger Benny Carter, he began working with  Fletcher Henderson’s main band later that year, playing a key role in reshaping what had become a rather slipshod outfit following Henderson’s late-August auto accident.

Horace Henderson subsequently appropriated the Stompers name for his own band, ads for which began running in early 1929. Occasional ads for Fletcher Henderson’s Stompers continued to appear into mid-1930, intermixed with a larger number for Horace Henderson’s Stompers, mostly involving one- or two-night stands in Pittsburgh and some smaller Pennsylvania cities.

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* Not the same individual as Hulbert A. Yerkes, a Columbia records executive who went by the initials “H. A,” causing some writers to conflate the two.

 

© 2019 by Allan R. Sutton. All rights are reserved.

UPDATE: Last Call for these Mainspring Press Titles

As you probably know, Mainspring Press is exiting the book business after twenty years, in favor of online data distribution. Many titles have already sold out, and we are down to a carton or less of the following, none of which will be reprinted. All remaining copies are being offered at special close-out discounts:
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Bryant: The Emerson Discography (Complete 10″ and 12″ Series)
Bryant: American Zonophone Discography (Popular Series, 1904–1912)
Sutton: Edison Amberol Records (Complete, 1908–1913)
Sutton: Pseudonyms on American Records, 3rd Edition

 

SOLD OUT  Bolig: The Victor Black Label Discography, Vol. 3 (20000 – 21000 Series)

SOLD OUT  Bolig: The Victor Discography—Special Labels

SOLD OUT Nauck & Sutton: Indestructible and U-S Everlasting Cylinders

SOLD OUT  Sutton: Edison Blue Amberol Records

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American Record Companies and Producers, 1888–1950: An Encyclopedic History (December 2018) is Mainspring’s final publication in book form. The only authoritative, fully documented guide to all commercial American record producers (disc and cylinder), it’s a limited edition and has been selling briskly — Order soon to avoid missing out:

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Recording-Industry Pioneers • Victor Emerson’s Personal Photographs

 Victor Emerson’s Personal Photographs

 

These remarkable photographs come to us courtesy of Colette LaPointe, Victor Emerson’s great-great-granddaughter.

Emerson is one of the undeservedly forgotten pioneers of the recording industry, a gifted inventor and recording engineer, and a progressive businessman. Emerson’s own company, launched in 1915 after his departure from Columbia, was highly successful for several years, but ultimately did not survive the great recession of the early 1920s intact. Its history is covered in detail in American Record Company and Producers, 1888-1950, newly released by Mainspring Press).

Other photos from this group will appear in an expanded Emerson biography, which we will be posting soon.

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Victor Emerson (left) and unknown companion, c. 1880s

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A rare glimpse inside what is likely the New Jersey Phonograph Company or its successor, the United States Phonograph Company. Equipment more clearly visible in the full-size print dates this to the early-to-mid 1890s. The Bell-Tainter Graphophone (lower left, with goose-neck horn) would have been used for office dictation.

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Emerson in 1897. In January of that year, he resigned from United States Phonograph and joined the American Graphophone Company (Columbia) as a recording engineer.

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On a trip to London (undated)

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Victor Emerson at home (undated photos)

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A Few Emerson Favorites (MP3)

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GEORGE HAMILTON GREEN: Triplets

New York; released June 1920
Emerson 10169 (mx. 4882 – 1)

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EDDIE NELSON: I’ve Got the Joys

New York; released  October 1921
Emerson 10426 (mx. 41919 – 3)

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EUBIE BLAKE: Sounds of Africa [Charleston Rag]

New York; released October 1921
Paramount 14004 (1940s dubbing from a test pressing of mx. 41886 – )

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EUBIE BLAKE (vocal refrains by Irving Kaufman):
Sweet Lady — Medley

New York; released December 1921
Emerson 10450 (mx. 41985 – 2)

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ORIGINAL MEMPHIS FIVE (as Lanin’s Southern Serenaders):
Shake It and Break It

New York; released November 1921
Emerson 10439 (mx. 41924 – 1)

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Emerson Records: A History and Discography covers all 10″ and 12″ Emerson issues, including releases on subsidiary, client, and foreign  labels. Supplies are very limited, and we will not be reprinting — order soon!

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This Month in Recording-Industry History: A Random Chronology, February 1889 – February 1949

This Month in Recording-Industry History:
A Random Chronology, February 1889 – February 1949
By Allan Sutton

 

For more information on any of these topics, see American Record Company and Producers, 1888 – 1950: An Encyclopedic History, newly released by Mainspring Press.

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February 1889 — Traveling with an “improved phonograph,” Edison engineer Theo Wangemann makes experimental live musical recordings at various New York and Boston locations. Wangemann is also present at an exhibition during which cornetist Theodore Hoch and vocalist Effie Stewart are recorded via telephone. [1]

February 18, 1889 — The New Jersey Phonograph Company is organized in Newark. [2] The company is not particularly successful in promoting the phonograph for business use, but it flourishes in the entertainment field. In February 1893 it is reorganized as the United States Phonograph Company (not to be confused with the later producer of U-S Everlasting cylinders).

February 7, 1890 — The Chicago Central Phonograph Company officially commences business, according to its stock offering notice. [3] In May 1890, general manager George Hoit reports, “The entertainment department is quite a feature with us and will be more so in the near future.” The Chicago Tribune reports in July 1892, “Everybody who comes to town with any reputation as an actor, a vocalist, or a good story-teller, is importuned to try his hand, or rather his voice, in the department where amusement cylinders are manufactured… [Some] stories are of a Rabelaisian character, to be reserved by purchasers for private edification and instruction, but the bulk of them will pass muster for general use.” [4]

February 16, 1893 — Henry Lewis, Andrew Taylor, and J. Marvin Carson file a certificate of organization for the United States Phonograph Company, successor to the New Jersey Phonograph Company. New Jersey president George Frelinghuysen and general manager Victor Emerson retain their positions and are joined by George Tewksbury and Simon Ott, who were previously associated with the Kansas and Nebraska Phonograph companies. The company shares a building with a Swift’s meat-packing plant, where banjoist Fred Van Eps recalled, “They had the hams and carcasses downstairs and the records upstairs.”

February 19, 1895 — Emile Berliner’s patent #534,543 (originally filed on March 30, 1892) is finally granted. [5] One of the most important and most litigated patents in the phonograph industry, it contains thirty-five new claims and improvements, including the key specification was that the stylus be propelled by the lateral-cut groove itself. Later acquired by the Victor Talking Machine Company, and cross-licensed to American Graphophone (Columbia), the patent assures control of the lateral-cut disc market by those two companies.

February 1898 — A venture of soprano Estella Mann, the Lyric Phonograph Company places its first advertisement this month. Although Mann is widely credited in modern works as the first female to own and manage a record company, it appears from a Phonosocope notice that John Havens actually managed the company. [6] Nevertheless, The Phonoscope praises Mann for “the manner in which she has clung to her business as many difficulties have confronted her in the past. This lady possesses a nerve which is seldom seen in the opposite sex.”

February 3, 1898 — The Universal Talking Machine Company is incorporated to compete with Emile Berliner’s Gramophone venture. Its Zonophone products prove to be popular, and in 1903 Victor president Eldridge Johnson reluctantly acquires a majority interest in the company. Universal Talking Machine is never owned outright by the Victor Talking Machine Company, contrary to many accounts. [7]

February 1902 — Victor president Eldridge Johnson sells the Globe Record Company (which he had acquired a month earlier) to the American Graphophone Company (Columbia) for his original $10,000 purchase price, along with Columbia president Edward Easton’s promise to abandon pending patent-infringement suits against Victor. Victor Emerson, Columbia’s recording manager, takes possession of the Globe masters and recording equipment on February 13, 1902. The acquisition provides Columbia its long sought-after entry into the disc market. Globe’s Climax label is quickly withdrawn in favor of Columbia’s own.

February 1902 — Nipper, the “Victor dog,” appears on Victor labels for the first time, although he had already been featured prominently in Victor advertising. The company registers several alternate versions during 1903–1904. One substitutes a woman in evening gown for Nipper, while another substitutes an ape. Aside from a special variation for the Asian market, with a man in Chinese garb substituted for Nipper (because, according to The Music Trade Review, the Chinese find the depiction of dogs “distasteful”), none appears on a commercially issued record.

February 1902 — The first catalog of Edison Gold Moulded cylinders is published, comprising remakes of 678 brown-wax titles (most of which retain their original catalog numbers) and a single new release (#8003), the first Edison recording to be offered only in molded form. Production of brown-wax cylinders, excepting recording blanks and the five-inch Concert Records, is discontinued on July 25, 1902.

February 1904 — John O. Prescott announces plans to open a pressing plant. [8] The new operation, to be called the American Record Company, is affiliated with the International Talking Machine Company in Germany (the producers of Odeon records). Prescott serves as general manager, in partnership with Ellsworth A. Hawthorne and Horace Sheble. The ornate lithographed labels depict a pipe-smoking American Indian listening to a phonograph, with the slogan, “Music Hath Charms.” Hawthorne claims that the inspiration came from a friend who had observed the calming effect that phonograph music had on a group of American Indians he was escorting to the St. Louis Exposition. The blue-shellac discs, introduced in October 1904, attract a great deal of attention, including that of the American Graphophone Company (Columbia), which in 1907 finally succeeds in shutting the company down for patent infringement. [9]

February 1, 1904 – The Victor Talking Machine Company makes the first American recordings by tenor Enrico Caruso. The session is held in Victor’s Carnegie Hall Annex studio, with C. H. H. Booth accompanying on piano. (Although the pianist is listed as unknown in some discographies, recording engineer Harry Sooy confirmed it was Booth). Sooy recalled that Caruso “had a very bad frog, or husky spot, in his voice in the record entitled ‘Tosca—E lucevan le stele,’ and when Mr. Child played this selection for him, we fully expected he would want to remake it, but he absolutely refused, claiming that it was an emotional effect.” [10]

February 23, 1907 – Victor dispatches Harry Sooy, in the company of his wife, on a recording expedition to Cuba. Sooy returns a month later with 171 recordings for the Cuban market. [13]

February 1907 — Columbia Phonograph Company managers receive advance copies of the first Marconi Velvet Tone Records catalog. A lightweight laminated celluloid disc, pressed from standard Columbia masters, the records feature the likeness of radio inventor Guglielmo Marconi, whose only contribution is to lend his name to the venture. Marconi is granted the title of “consulting physicist,” given a quick tour of the Columbia plant, treated to a banquet, then sent back to Italy. In fact, the records are the invention of Columbia engineer Thomas Macdonald. [14]

February 3, 1908 — Victor completes the installation of a new recording machine in its New York studio and hosts a mass gathering of celebrity artists, with Sembrich, Severina, Jacoby, Caruso, Scotti, Daddi, and Journet present for recordings of the sextet from Lucia di Lammermoor and the quartet from Rigoletto. According to engineer Harry Sooy recalled, “These were, indeed big engagements and everybody concerned were on their toes with anxiety. And, when we heard the finished records, they were not considered good enough.” The entire group returns on February 7 for successful remakes. There is tremendous publicity surrounding the release of the sextet, which at $7 is the most expensive record in the Victor catalog. [15]

February 8, 1908 — It is announced that the Talk-O-Phone Company of Toledo, Ohio, has been petitioned intro bankruptcy. [11] The company has been one of the most persistent infringers of Victor’s and Columbia patents, but operations are finally halted by the granting of a permanent injunction in April. [12] Co-owner Albert Irish files for personal bankruptcy, claiming liabilities of $464,790 in connection with personal loans and notes to the company. The moral, Irish tells The Talking Machine World, is “don’t fool with buzz-saws.” He is later indicted for embezzlement in an unrelated case.

February 1910 — Victor introduces a purple-label series, priced midway between black labels and Red Seals. Something of a catch-all line, its catalog runs the gamut from popular recordings by Broadway headliners to classical and operatic material by concert artists deemed not quite worthy of Red Seal status. The initial offering is dominated by Harry Lauder, who records twenty-four titles during a single December 1909 session in advance of the launch. [16]

February 1910 — All Zonophone recording activity is transferred to the Victor studios, under the supervision of Victor personnel. A new “Z”-prefixed master-numbering series is started for Zonophone masters, which are not to be used on standard Victor releases. The Universal Talking Machine Company’s Zonophone studio is closed, and some employees are laid off. Others are hired by Victor, including former Zonophone musical director Edward (Eddie) King, who is assigned to Victor’s New York studio. [17]

February 28, 1911 — Thomas A. Edison, Inc., is chartered to combine the inventor’s widely diversified companies, including the National Phonograph Company, under a single corporate entity.

February 11, 1915 — Harry Sooy and other members of the Victor Recording Department travel to Independence Hall in Philadelphia to record Mayor Smith tapping the Liberty Bell. The ceremony is transmitted by telephone to San Francisco to signal the official opening of the Pan American Exposition. Sooy is unimpressed: “Don’t ask me whether or not the Liberty Bell sounds like a bell, because I shall tell you, ‘It does not.’” [18]

February 26, 1917 — The Original Dixieland Jazz Band makes the first jazz recordings (“Livery Stable Blues” / “Dixieland Jass Band One-Step”), which are released on Victor 18255 in April 1917. Marketed as a novelty offering, the record becomes a surprise hit, but in the meantime, the ODJB has moved on (first to Columbia, then to Aeolian-Vocalion). In 1918, the band returns to Victor, which this time offers it a lengthier contract. [19]

February 1920 — The Scranton Button Company (a major independent pressing plant) reports the theft of an estimated ten-thousand records by a ring of female employees, who are said to have smuggled the records out in “pockets made in their underskirts.” [20]

February 1921 — The Arto company releases two blues-inflected titles featuring singer Lucille Hegamin (who had earlier been rejected by Victor), in the wake of Okeh’s success with Mamie Smith’s “Crazy Blues.” The popularity of Hegamin’s early releases helps to fuel other companies’ interest in the new race-record market.

February 1921 — The General Phonograph Corporation (Okeh) begins recording masters for the short-lived American Odeon Corporation, under the management of Miguel Voglhut. A redundant entity within the Carl Lindström organization, American Odeon is liquidated in early 1922, [21] and General Phonograph takes over U.S. production and marketing of the Odeon label, as a classical and ethnic line.

February 1921 — The Emerson Phonograph Company launches its Regal Record Company subsidiary, headed by Emerson general manager H. T. Leeming. The 50¢ Regal record retails for 25¢ less than most brands and uses the same recordings as the full-priced Emerson line, albeit usually disguised by artist pseudonyms. The records sell well, revealing a strong market for moderately priced discs that will soon be crowded with competitors.

February 24, 1921— Victor executive Belford G. Royal announces that a Victor recording studio and matrix-processing plant is to be built in South America. Charles Althouse, who has headed many of Victor’s foreign recording expeditions and speaks Spanish fluently, is chosen to manage to new operation.  [22]

February 1922 — The Bridgeport Die & Machine Company (Bridgeport, Connecticut) begins pressing Puritan records from the New York Recording Laboratories’ Paramount masters, for East Coast distribution. [23] The couplings and catalog numbers often deviate from those on NYRL’s own version of Puritan, much to the confusion of early discographers.

February 1922 — Cameo records are introduced by the Cameo Record Corporation, which had begun recording in November 1921 under the supervision of Earle W. Jones. Originally a 50¢ budget-priced line, Cameo is meant to compete with Emerson’s popular Regal label. The quality soon declines, along with the price.

February 1922 — The Nordskog Phonograph Recording Company is incorporated in Los Angeles. It is owned and operated by Andrae (Arne) Nordskog, who claims that his is the first West Coast recording company. Disputing that claim is Theophilus Fitz, whose competing Golden Record Company had been incorporated two months earlier but not yet produced any recordings. Nordskog is already recording (pre-incorporation) by the time Golden’s studio opens in late January 1922. [24]

February 17, 1922 — The Marsh Laboratories are incorporated in Chicago to develop, manufacture, buy, sell, and lease sound recordings. [25] Formerly affiliated with the Essanay movie studio, Orlando Marsh employs an electrical recording process (which he never patents) that uses a double-button carbon microphone attached to various sound-focusing devices, including an antiquated phonograph horn. Although Marsh’s recordings suffer from a variety of ailments, including limited frequency response, distortion, and low volume levels, they demonstrate the commercial potential of electrical recording three years before Victor and Columbia begin recording electrically.

February 27, 1922 — Hearings begin in U.S. District Court (Brooklyn) in Victor Talking Machine Co. v. Opera Disc Distributing Co. and Max Hesslein. At issue is Opera Disc’s sale of imported German pressings from Victor’s Red Seal masters. Copyright laws do not protect sound recordings, so Victor’s attorneys attack Opera Disc on the grounds that the company was founded while a state of war still technically existed between the United States and Germany, making sale of the records illegal. Lawyers for Opera Disc counter that the U.S. courts have no jurisdiction in matters regarding official acts of foreign nations. The case is ultimately decided in Victor’s favor, with the granting of a permanent injunction that shuts down Opera Disc. [26]

February 26, 1923 —Victor engineer Harry Sooy is instructed to begin preparing equipment in anticipation of opening a permanent studio in California. [27] In March, the company discloses to its staff that the location will be in Oakland.

February 1924 — Brunswick signs Al Jolson to a highly publicized “million-dollar” contract, making him the highest-paid popular recording artist of the period. Jolson is later given a seat on Brunswick’s board of directors.

February 1924 — Western Electric officials offer to license the company’s electrical recording system to the Victor Talking Machine Company. When Victor president Eldridge Johnson balks at the terms, Western Electric extends its offer to Columbia, which begins conducting experimental electrical recording sessions during the summer of 1924. [28]

February 1925 — Herbert S. Berliner, of the Compo Company (Canada) begins installing electrical recording equipment in his New York studio, which at the time is being used to produce Ajax race records. The studio is later frequently used by Pathé, during its transition to electrical recording, and it also records a few masters for Gennett. [29]

February 3, 1925 — Western Electric recording equipment arrives at Victor’s Camden studios for testing. Western Electric engineer Maxfield inspects the layout the following day and pronounces it satisfactory. [30] The shipment also includes one of Bell Laboratories’ new exponential-horn acoustical phonographs, which Victor will manufacture and market under the Orthophonic brand.

February 8, 1925 — Harry Sooy makes the first experimental Victor electrical recording (a piano solo by a staff musician), with Maxfield and other Western Electric personnel present. On February 10, Victor holds its first non-experimental electrical recording session (again with Western Electric personnel present), by contralto Helen Clark. The results are not approved for release. [31]

February 25, 1925 — Singer-pianist Art Gillham records three titles for Columbia, on Western Electric equipment, that will become Columbia’s first electrically recorded releases. [32]

February 26, 1925 — Victor makes acoustic and electric recordings of a routine by the Eight Famous Victor Artists (Henry Burr, Billy Murray, et al.) for comparison purposes. Although the acoustic is initially chosen, the electric is substituted at the last moment, becoming the earliest Victor electrical recording to be released (Victor 35753). [33]

February 23–24, 1927 — The Chicago Record Company holds the initial sessions for its new Black Patti label, in Gennett’s temporary Chicago studio. Gennett charges the company $30 per master. [34]

February 6, 1930 — The Durium Products Corporation releases its first Hit of the Week record. A 15¢ single-sided disc, Hit of the Week is sold at newsstands, with a new release appearing every Thursday. Durium Products had been formed a year earlier to exploit a linseed oil-based plastic product originally developed in 1927 by Dr. Hal Trueman Beans, Dr. Louis Hammett, and Dr. George H. Walden, Jr., all of whom were chemistry professors at Columbia University. [35]

February 10, 1930 — The Cova Recording Corporation is chartered by S. M. Levy. The company revives the dormant Q. R. S. label, as a cheaply produced 25¢ line. Unlike its predecessor, this version of Q.R.S. is not a race-record label, instead offering mostly mediocre pop fare. Masters are supplied by the Stanley Recording Company. [36]

February 1932 — RCA Victor begins pressing low-cost discs for the Crown Record Company, under the supervision of Eli Oberstein, from Crown’s own masters. [37] Crown had previously pressed in a former Edison facility. [38] Seven years later, Oberstein dubs many of these masters for reissue (usually under pseudonyms) on his new Varsity label.

February 1934 — RCA Victor discontinues the Electradisk label, leaving Bluebird and Sunset as its only budget-priced brands (other than the Montgomery Ward client label). Sunset is discontinued several months label, and Bluebird takes its place as RCA’s flagship budget label.

February 26, 1935 — Decca Records and the Decca Distributing Corporation file a lawsuit charging the Brunswick Record Corporation, Columbia Phonograph Company, Consolidated Film Industries and its American Record Corporation subsidiary, RCA-Victor, RCA Manufacturing Company, and various officers of those companies, with maintaining a monopoly on the sale of phonograph records in New York state. Decca seeks $1 million in damages. [39] Nothing comes of it.

February 26, 1936 — Associated Cinema Studios is incorporated in San Francisco by capitalist Mark L. Gerstle, following his purchase of Freeman Lang Enterprises (a pioneering West Coast custom-recording operation). [40] Owner of The Emporium department store, Gerstle reportedly is more interested in sailing his yacht than making recordings, so he entrusts management of the Los Angeles studio to former Freeman Lang vice-president Frank W. Purkett. Associated Cinema caters to local broadcasters and movie studios, specializing in transcriptions and sound-on-film recording, but it also produces some mildly risqué “party” records for such labels as Hollywood Hot Shots, Hot Shots from Hollywood, Racy Records, and Torchies from Hollywood.

February 1937 — Musicraft Records announces its first releases. The company was founded several months earlier by former attorney Milton L. Rein and music teacher Henry Cohen, originally to specialize in high-quality, premium-priced recordings of esoteric classical fare that was receiving little or no exposure on the major labels. [41] The earliest releases earn high praise from the critics but sell in only minuscule quantities, and in the 1940s Musicraft morphs into a pop label.

February 1939 — Solo Art makes it first recordings. Devoted entirely to jazz piano, the company is owned by Brooklyn bartender Dan Qualey, who finances the start-up by soliciting subscribers among his bar clientele, collecting $10 in advance with the promise that they will receive ten records annually through the mail. The venture is discontinued in 1940, after Qualey runs out of funds.

February 22, 1939 — Eli Oberstein resigns his position as head of RCA Victor’s Bluebird division. Although he does not immediately announce his intentions, he is already laying the groundwork for his own record company. Incorporated later that year, his United States Record Corporation produces inexpensive Varsity and Royale records.

February 1940 — Eli Oberstein’s United States Record Corporation introduces Inco records. [42] They are intended as a marketing experiment, retailing for 35¢ at newsstands operated by the International News Company. Priced the same as USRC’s Varsity records, and offering the same material, they fail to attract any interest and are discontinued after several weeks.

February 25, 1941 — Donald Gabor’s Continental Record Company holds its first recordings session, in RCA Victor’s New York studio. A Hungarian immigrant, Gabor arrives in the United States in 1938 and is given a job as an RCA shipping clerk, from which he advances to a management position in the company’s foreign-record division before resigning in early 1941 to launch Continental.

February 1946 — Lionel and Gladys Hampton launch their Hamp-Tone label, which is described as “a show-window for promising Negro talent of all types — hot jazz, folk music and spirituals as well as dramatic and classical entertainment.” [43] Chicago Defender editor Charles Browning undertakes a cross-country tour to promote the records to jukebox operators, [44] but the venture closes in late 1946 after the Hamptons run out of masters.

February 5, 1946 — Dial Records holds its first recording session, in Glendale, California, by a pickup grouped credited as Dizzy Gillespie’s Jazzmen. The session is a poorly organized affair, with saxophonist Charlie Parker failing to appear, and the studio overrun with gawkers. Owner Ross Russell recalls, “After that, I made it my business to keep hangers-on, dope heads, and parasites out of the studio.” [45]

February 1947 — Universal Recording Studios’ Bill Putnam records Jerry Murad’s Harmonicats using a primitive form of artificial reverberation that involves recording from a speaker placed in the men’s rest room. [46]

February 28, 1948Billboard reports that Capitol Records has ordered Wesley Tuttle, Benny Goodman, and Stan Kenton to report for recording sessions in defiance of the American Federation of Musicians’ recording ban. Tuttle immediately contacts AFM Local 47 and is told to ignore the order. The situation turns into a standoff as rumors swirl that Capitol is preparing to test the legality of the ban in court. [47] No case is brought, however.

February 1949 — The Radio Corporation of America prepares to introduce 45-rpm discs, in an attempt to counter Columbia’s popular new LPs. Initially dubbed “Madame X,” the project is veiled in secrecy until March 1949, when RCA Victor chief engineer D. D. Cole publicly unveils the new records, along with the inexpensive changers that are required to play them. [48] After an unsuccessful attempt to license the format, RCA makes it available to other companies. The public is slow to embrace the 45 until the early 1950s, when it begins to gain traction as the favored format for pop “singles.” Classical enthusiasts tend to favor LPs, complaining that 45s are nearly as inconvenient as 78s for playing extended works.

References

[1] “A Concert by Telephone,” New York Morning Sun, Feb. 5, 1889; “Interesting Phonograph and Telephone Experiments at a Lecture,” Newark [NJ] News, Feb 5, 1889.

[2] Proceedings of the First Annual Convention of Local Phonograph Companies of the United States (Chicago, May

28–29, 1890). Milwaukee: Phonograph Printing Company.

[3] Lobdell, Farwell & Co., Inc. (stock offer notice). Chicago Tribune (Jun 8, 1890).

[4] “Phonographic Ears.” Chicago Tribune (Jul 10, 1892).

[5] Berliner, Emile. “Gramophone.” U.S. Patent #534,543 (filed Mar 30, 1892; granted Feb 19, 1895).

[6] Untitled notice (re: John Havens as manager of Lyric). Phonoscope (Apr 1899).

[7] Bryant, William R. (Allan Sutton, editor). The American Zonophone Discography, Vol. 1. Denver: Mainspring Press (2012).

[8] Untitled notice (re: Pressing plant). Music Trade Review (Feb 27, 1904).

[9] Bryant, William R., George Blacker, et al. American Record Co. ephemera, research notes, and discographical data. William R. Bryant papers, Mainspring Press collection.

[10] Sooy, Harry O. Memoir of My Career at Victor Talking Machine Company (manuscript). Sarnoff Library.

[11] “Petitioned into Bankruptcy.” Music Trade Review (Feb 8,1908).

[12] “Now Perpetually Enjoined.” Talking Machine World (Apr 15, 1908).

[13] Sooy, op. cit.

[14] “Talking Machine Record.” U.S. Patent #862,407 (filed Jul 9, 1906).

[15] Sooy, op. cit.

[16] Bolig, John. The Victor Discography: Green, Blue, and Purple Labels. Denver: Mainspring Press (2006).

[17] Bryant, William R. (Allan Sutton, editor). The American Zonophone Discography, Vol. 1. Denver: Mainspring Press (2012). Portions of the Z- series ledgers, which are housed in the Sony Music archives (New York), are the only surviving American Zonophone recording files.

[18] Sooy, op. cit.

[19] The claim that the ODBJ made test records for Columbia in January 1917 (first advanced by Brian Rust, who later retracted it) is untrue. The band was invited to make Columbia Personal Records at that time, but there is no evidence that they accepted.

[20] “10,000 Phonograph Records Stolen; Arrests Are Made.” Wilkes-Barre [PA] Times-Leader (Feb 17, 1920).

[21] “Retirement of Miguel Voglhut.” Talking Machine World (Jan 15, 1922).

[22] Sooy, op. cit.

[23] “Introduce the Puritan Record” Talking Machine World (Mar 15, 1922).

[24] “Recording Laboratory in Santa Monica.” Talking Machine World (Feb 15, 1922).

[25] Statement of Incorporation: Marsh Laboratories, Inc. (Feb 17, 1922). State of Illinois, Office of the Secretary

of State.

[26] “Hearing Held in the Victor Co.—Opera Disc Co. Suit.” Talking Machine World (Mar 15, 1922).

[27] Sooy, op. cit.

[28] Sutton, Allan. Recording the ’Twenties: The Evolution of the American Recording Industry, 1920–1929. Denver: Mainspring Press (2008).

[29] Bryant, William R., with the Record Research Associates (Allan Sutton, editor). Ajax Records: A History and Discography. Denver: Mainspring Press (2013).

[30] Sooy, op. cit.

[31] Sooy, op. cit.

[32] Sutton, Allan. Recording the ’Twenties, op. cit.

[33] Ibid.

[34] Gennett master ledgers, February 1927. Reports that Gennett charged $40 are in error; the ledgers show a $30 charge for all Chicago Record Company masters.

[35] “Durium Records.” Time (Feb 17, 1930).

[36] “New 25¢ Disc Brand.” Variety (Jan 29, 1930).

[37] RCA Victor production-history cards. Sony Music Archives, New York.

[38] “Crown Records (Two Hits for a Bit)” (ad). Warren [PA] Times Mirror (Jan 13, 1931).

[39] “Record Makers Ask $1,000,000 Damages.” New York Times (Feb 27, 1935).

[40] “Associated Cinema Studios.” Broadcasting (Mar 15, 1936).

[41] “Discs for Dilettanti.” Time (Nov 1, 1937).

[42] Business Week (Apr 20, 1940).

[43] “Introducing a Record Company with a Reason!” (ad). Billboard (May 11, 1946).

[44] Gore, Byrde. “Byrde’s Eye View ’Round the Wax Circle.” Cash Box (Sep 2, 1946).

[45] Kennedy, Rick, and Randy McNutt. “Dial Records,” in Little Labels—Big Sound. Bloomington: University of Indiana Press (1999).

[46] “Putnam Springs New Waxing Technique with ‘Vitacoustic.’” Billboard (Apr 5, 1947).

[47] “Cap Orders Talent to Wax Despite Ban.” Billboard (Feb 28, 1948).

[48] Cole, D. D. “The How and Why of RCA Victor’s New Record and Player.” Audio Record (Mar 1949).

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© 2019 by Allan R. Sutton. All rights are reserved.

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Collectors’ Corner (MP3): Some January Finds – Sophie Tucker, Fletcher Henderson, Curtis Mosby, Wingy Mannone, Jelly Roll Morton, Luis Russell

Collectors’ Corner (MP3): Some January Finds – Sophie Tucker, Fletcher Henderson, Curtis Mosby, Wingy Mannone, Jelly Roll Morton, Luis Russell

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Some good jazz and personality pickings in January, plus another bumper-crop of cylinders that we’ll get around to posting when time allows. In the meantime, here are a few electrical-era favorites from this month’s finds:

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SOPHIE TUCKER: I Never Can Think of the Words (EE-)

London: October 1930
Broadcast Twelve 5195 (L-0763 – 1)
With Ted Shapiro (piano) and the Winter Garden Theatre Orchestra (Sydney Baynes, cond.)

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FLETCHER HENDERSON & HIS ORCHESTRA (June Cole, vocal):
Sweet Thing (E- to V++)

New York: December 13, 1926
Columbia (British) 4417 (W 143125 – 6)

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CURTIS MOSBY & HIS DIXIELAND BLUE BLOWERS (Henry Starr, vocal):
In My Dreams (I’m Jealous of You)
(V++)

Los Angeles: October 14, 1927 (Pacific Coast regional release, June 1928)
Columbia 1191-D (mx. W 144763 – 3)

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CURTIS MOSBY & HIS DIXIELAND BLUE BLOWERS: Weary Stomp (E- to V++)

Los Angeles: October 14, 1927 (Pacific Coast regional release, June 1928)
Columbia 1191-D (mx. W 144761 – 2)

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JOE [WINGY] MANNONE’S HARMONY KINGS (Mannone, vocal):
Ringside Stomp
(V++)

New Orleans: April 11, 1927
Columbia 1044-D (mx. W 143952 – 2)

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JELLY ROLL MORTON & HIS RED HOT PEPPERS: Georgia Swing (V+)

Liederkranz Hall, New York: June 11, 1928 (released February 22, 1929)
Victor V-38024 (mx. BVE 45619 – 2)

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LUIS RUSSELL & HIS ORCHESTRA (as Dixie Jazz Band): The Way He Loves Is Just Too Bad (E- to V+)

New York: September 13, 1929
Oriole 1726 (American Record Corp. mx. 9007 – 1, as control 2533 – 1)

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Harry Pace, W. E. B. Du Bois, and Black Swan Records: The Authoritative History

Harry Pace, W. E. B. Du Bois, and Black Swan Records:
The Authoritative History
By Allan Sutton

Text from American Record Companies and Producers,
1888–1950:
An Encyclopedic History
(Mainspring Press, 2018)

This new account, incorporating previously unpublished information from internal company documents and Pace’s and Du Bois’ personal correspondence (W. E. B. Du Bois Papers, Special Collections and University Archives, University of Massachusetts Amherst Libraries) is a preliminary study for the author’s full-length Black Swan history and discography, currently in preparation.

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Founded in December 1920 by Harry Herbert Pace, the Pace Phonograph Company was the second black-owned and operated record company (preceded only by George W. Broome’s short-lived venture), and the first to succeed commercially, if only briefly.

A 1903 graduate of Atlanta University, Pace initially worked in banking, but his interests turned increasingly to music. He and W. C. Handy collaborated on their first song in 1907, and in 1912 the pair formed the Pace & Handy Music Company in Memphis. The company had its first major hit in 1914, with the publication of Handy’s “St. Louis Blues,” and in 1918 it relocated to New York. Pace resigned in late 1920 to launch his recording operation, taking some key personnel with him. Handy recalled, “With Pace went a large number of our employees, persons especially trained for the requirements of our business and therefore hard to replace. Still more confusion and anguish grew out of the fact people did not generally know that I had no stake in the Black Swan record company.”

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W. E. B. Du Bois (left) and Harry Pace (right)

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On December 27, 1920, Pace wrote to W. E. B. Du Bois that he had formed a corporation to manufacture phonograph records. He held open the possibility of involving others, telling Du Bois, “I made the capital stock elastic enough so as to take others into it if the idea met very favorable consideration.” The letter makes clear that it was Du Bois who suggested the name “Black Swan,” in honor of the pioneering African-American diva, Elizabeth Taylor Greenfield. Pace reported to Du Bois that he had already made test recordings by Ford Dabney’s Orchestra and was hoping to do the same with operatic soprano Florence Cole-Talbert and a very young Marian Anderson.

Pace invited Du Bois to join the new company’s board and provide whatever funding he could. The Pace Phonograph Corporation was formally chartered as a Delaware corporation in January 1921, with Du Bois initially purchasing a single share. The officers at the time of incorporation were Pace (president and treasurer) and D. L. Haynes (secretary). Directors, in addition to Du Bois, included Levi C. Brown, T. K. Gibson, William Lewis, John E. Nail, and Emmett J. Scott. Pace and Du Bois found eager investors not only in Harlem, but in Arkansas, Georgia, Ohio, and other far-flung locations. Among them was comedian Bert Williams, who according to an advertisement in The Crisis, “put thousands of dollars into the making of Black Swan records.”

Harry Pace’s townhouse at 257 West 138th Street served as Black Swan’s first office. Among the employees Pace took from Pace & Handy Music was Fletcher Hamilton Henderson, Jr., a young pianist from Georgia whom Handy had recently hired as a song demonstrator. Henderson’s defection garnered him the position of recording director and house accompanist, although Pace later admitted he felt that Henderson was not fully qualified. William Grant Still, one of W. C. Handy’s staff arrangers, also made the move.

The studio in which Pace initially recorded remains a subject of debate. The location is not mentioned in any of Pace’s or Du Bois’ known correspondence, nor is there any suggestion in those letters that Pace equipped his own studio or hired a recording engineer. A New York Age article from June 1921 confirms that Pace did not yet have his own studio, reporting that the company was “planning to establish its own laboratory [i.e., studio] in the near future.” If any of Pace’s pre-production tests have survived, they have not been located for inspection. However, most of the early issued masters appear to have been recorded by the New York Recording Laboratories, based upon physical and aural characteristics.

Black Swan records were in production by the early spring of 1921, with initial releases planned for May. Pressing was to be handled by John Fletcher’s Olympic Disc Record Corporation plant in Long Island City. Newly incorporated, Olympic commenced operations in March 1921, the same month in which the earliest issued Black Swan recordings are believed to have been made. Like Black Swan, Olympic advertised its first records as May releases, and their physical characteristics were identical with those of the earliest Black Swan pressings, confirming Harry Pace’s recollection that they were pressed in what he termed the “Remington factory” (the Remington Phonograph Company being Olympic’s parent corporation).

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(Left) An early first-state Black Swan label, showing the sunken ring around the spindle hole and other tell-tale Olympic pressing-plant characteristics. (Right) A second-state label, pressed by the New York Recording Laboratories. Based upon the typeface, it appears that both labels were supplied by the same printer.

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From the start, Pace found himself torn between two disparate markets within the African-American community — a relatively small, affluent group that championed what it saw as culture and refinement (mirroring Pace’s own background and musical preferences), and a larger working-class group with a growing appetite for jazz and blues records. In August 1921, Pace told The Talking Machine World, “While it is true that we will feature to a great extent ‘blue’ numbers of the type that are in current favor, we will also release many numbers of a higher standard.” In his attempts to present Black Swan as a respectable operation to potential investors, Pace understandably erred on the side of caution his choice of artists and repertoire.

The first three Black Swan records were announced as ready for delivery on May 4, 1921. Pace’s preference for “numbers of a “higher standard” was immediately apparent. For the inaugural release (#2001), he chose two old concert pieces, “At Dawning” and “Thank God for a Garden,” sung by soprano Revella Hughes, with violin, cello, and piano accompaniment. There followed two equally straightforward sides by concert baritone Carroll C. Clark, then two blues-inflected pop tunes by vaudevillian Katie Crippen. The company sold a modest 10,300 records during its first month of sales, according to a report in The Crisis.

The black press (particularly The Chicago Defender) cast Pace’s attempt to launch Black Swan as nothing less than an epic struggle between good and evil. The venture had barely been launched when the Defender proclaimed that “a great uproar was caused among white phonograph record companies who resented the idea of having a Race company enter what they felt was an exclusive field.” If there was an uproar, it went unreported in trade journals like The Talking Machine World, which covered Black Swan to the same extent as the other small startups of the period, was supportive in its reporting on the company, and readily accepted Pace’s advertising.

One of the Defender’s most absurd claims, flying in the face of what are now well-established facts, was that the Remington Phonograph Company had purchased the Olympic pressing plant for the sole purpose of denying service to Pace — conveniently ignoring the fact that Olympic had indeed pressed for Pace, albeit briefly. What actually caused Pace to move his pressing business from Olympic was a surge in orders. In a postcard to Du Bois, mailed on June 24, 1921, from Port Washington, Wisconsin (the New York Recording Laboratories’ headquarters), Pace reported, “I am here arranging for an increased fall and winter production together with a line of Black Swan Phonographs.”

The NYRL pressing plant, although geographically remote, had the capacity for large-scale record production that Olympic lacked, and the company was actively courting new customers. Since Pace was already using NYRL’s New York studio, the move from Olympic made logistical sense, consolidating all Black Swan production within a single company. Black Swan pressings from the summer of 1921 into the spring of 1922 show the unmistakable characteristics of NYRL’s work.

The initial Black Swan releases were received politely enough, and Carroll Clark’s first offering appears to have been a relatively good seller, based upon the number of surviving copies. But the earliest releases failed to generate the sort of excitement that would be needed to bring national attention to Black Swan. The situation changed with Pace’s signing of Ethel Waters in April 1921. Already a veteran of the southern vaudeville circuits, Waters was attracting a strong following at Edmond’s Cellar in Harlem.

Waters had already recorded two titles for Criterion Laboratories, an independent studio that supplied several small labels, but there had been no immediate takers (Cardinal eventually released them in September 1921), and Waters decided to visit Pace. Her first Black Swan release (“Down Home Blues” / “Oh Daddy”) was released in July 1921 and became a sizable hit. In October, Pace signed Waters to an exclusive Black Swan contract that reportedly made her the highest-paid black recording artist at the time. In November, she was sent on an extended tour as the star of the Black Swan Troubadours, eventually playing in twenty-one states.

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Black Swan’s first hit: “Down Home Blues” (here advertised in August 1921) brought national attention to Ethel Water and Black Swan. Pace plugged many of Waters’ subsequent releases as “Another ‘Down Home Blues'” (the example above is from late 1922), but none approached the popularity of the original.

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Thanks largely to Waters’ records, Black Swan developed a small following among white customers, including some stage and film stars. It was widely reported that actress Marilyn Miller had presented a “large selection” of Black Swan records to Jack Pickford (Mary’s brother) on their wedding day. The Dallas Express reported, “It is now becoming quite a fad with many stars of the theatrical profession, who have found something different in these all-Colored records, to have them sent to their friends in various parts of the country.”

Pace, however, failed to capitalize on that momentum. He placed no advertising in the white consumer publications and made little effort to court the important trade publications. His advertisements in The Talking Machine World, which did not begin running until August 1921, often appeared to be halfhearted efforts, sometimes simply listing a few artists’ names, or dwelling on past hits rather than fresh releases.

Trixie Smith, Pace’s next star, was signed in January 1922, shortly after she took first place at the Fifteenth Regiment Blues Contest in Harlem. With Waters and Smith on his roster, Pace found it easier to attract new singers. However, the oft-repeated tale that he auditioned Bessie Smith, and rejected her after she stopped to spit in the midst of her test recording, is apocryphal. It appears to have originated in the 1940s with W. C. Handy, who was prone to spinning colorful tales and is unlikely to have been present at the alleged session, given his strained relationship with Pace.

With demand for Black Swan records growing steadily, distribution proved to be a stumbling block. Pace was unable to obtain national coverage through the major jobbers. Although racial prejudice was likely a factor in some cases, small white-owned startups had experienced the same problem for many years. In Pace’s case, however, the major distributors’ lack of confidence probably was compounded by his inexperience in the record business and Black Swan’s targeting of a still-unproven market.

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Lacking a national distributor, Harry Pace recruited small-time retailers and enterprising individuals to sell his records wherever and however they could.

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Pace countered by recruiting small-time retailers and enterprising individuals to sell the records wherever and however they could. In June 1921, he hired Paul Robeson (who was then a student at Rutgers) as a part-time salesman, but missed the opportunity to record him. That autumn, Pace hired C. Udell Turpine (given as Turpin in some accounts) as his sales manager. A Columbia University business school graduate, Turpine brought along several professional salesmen from a previous venture, but he continued to build Pace’s network of small retailers and individual salespeople as well, advertising in The Crisis, “We want men and women with a backbone and a desire to earn $100 a week…men and women who don’t care what $20 a week people think.”

In March 1922, Pace published a Black Swan distributor map in The Crisis that looked impressive at first glance, with all forty-eight states covered to varying degrees. The heaviest concentrations were east of the Mississippi, but nearly every state had a distributor or jobber, and at least a few retail dealers. However, the largest number of dots on the map represented “agents,” those independent salespeople who peddled the records door-to-door, on street corners, or wherever else they could.

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Black Swan record distribution, as depicted in The Crisis for March 1922.

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In January 1922, The New York Age perhaps unintentionally revealed the company’s financial fragility when it reported that Black Swan had made a profit of slightly more than $3,300 on sales of $104,628.74 in 1921. Although the reporter seemed impressed by the latter figure, it was minuscule by industry standards of the day. Given that Black Swan records initially retailed for $1 (reduced to 85¢ late in the year), and normal wholesale rates were 50% of list price, Black Swan’s 1921 sales probably amounted to between a quarter- and a half-million records, depending upon the ratio of wholesale to direct retail sales. In the same year, Victor sold nearly fifty-five million records.

April 1922 saw Harry Pace’s attempt to cast Black Swan as a contender in the classical field with the introduction of the Red Label series, an obvious play on Victor’s prestigious Red Seals. Victor, which for years had taken legal action against competitors’ use of red labels on classical records, does not appear to have taken any such action in Black Swan’s case, casting further doubt on the Defender’s claims that the white recording establishment was out to destroy Pace.

The Red Label listing included operatic arias by Florence Cole-Talbert and Antoinette Garnes, and concert selections by Hattie King Reavis. In December 1922, Pace tried to secure concert tenor Roland Hayes for Black Swan, only to be informed by Hayes that he was under contract to Aeolian in England. The series sputtered along until being discontinued in May 1923, marking the end of Pace’s involvement in the classical market.

In April 1922, Pace, in partnership with John Fletcher and Michael Naughton, purchased the trademark, masters, and facilities of Fletcher’s defunct Olympic venture. The Fletcher Record Company, Inc., was chartered in New York on May 26, 1922. With Fletcher as president and Pace as vice president and treasurer, it was the first American record company to have a racially mixed executive team, a situation that received only a passing mention the trade papers.

The Fletcher Record Company initially served as the new studio and pressing plant for Black Swan records. The Pace Phonograph Corporation remained in business as a separate entity, and Pace-produced Black Swan labels continued to credit the Pace Phonograph Corporation. Following the acquisition, Pace reported, “We are now issuing ten numbers a month instead of three…. We do our own recording, plating, pressing, as well as printing of every description, in the above plant.” However, the operation soon proved to be unprofitable. Pace Phonograph’s financial report of November 8, 1922, noted, “The factory has been a severe drain on our cash.”

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Fletcher-era Black Swan pressings; note the return of the sunken ring surrounding the spindle hole, which is absent on the New York Record Laboratories’ and Bridgeport Die & Machine Company’s Black Swan pressings. Black Swan 60006 is a reissue from Fletcher’s all-white Olympic catalog, with xylophonist George Hamilton Green disguised as “Raymond Green.”

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Fletcher revived his Olympic label later that year, with an all-white artist roster. Pace had already reissued some older Olympic recordings on Black Swan, under pseudonyms, breaking his pledge to use only black artists. By July 1922, so much outside material was being released under the Black Swan label that the catalog was split into ten separately numbered series. Of those, only the 14000 race series (replacing the original 2000s) and 7100 operatic series remained pure Pace productions, reserved exclusively for black artists. The remainder (which included Hawaiian, novelty, sacred, novelty, and classical series) were made up almost entirely of pseudonymous reissues from Fletcher’s Olympic catalog. In an ironic twist, the nation’s first successful race-record label was now producing its own racially segregated catalog, while continuing the claim that it employed only black talent.

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Pace broke his pledge to use only black artists even before going into partnership with John Fletcher. By the time this ad appeared in The Crisis in late 1922, the Black Swan catalog contained many pseudonymous reissues from Fletcher’s all-white Olympic catalog, including the “Xmas records” advertised here.

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The aliases employed by Black Swan for Olympics’ white artists were obviously contrived to suggest black performers. Various Harry Yerkes groups became “Joe Brown’s Alabama Band” or “Sammy Swift’s Jazz Band,” Rudy Wiedeoft’s Californians became “Haynes’ Harlem Syncopators,” xylophonist George Hamilton Green became “Raymond Green,” and novelty whistler Margaret McKee was renamed “Bessie Johnson.” Recordings by Irving Weiss’ Ritz-Carlton Orchestra, Fred Van Eps’ Quartet, and Wiedoeft’s Palace Trio were released as “Ethel Waters’ Jazz Masters” while Waters was on tour and likely unaware of the subterfuge. Some Olympic recordings by conventional white dance bands were credited to “Henderson’s Dance Orchestra” or “Henderson’s Novelty Orchestra,” with no first name given but obviously meant to imply Fletcher Henderson’s involvement, even after Henderson had left the company.

At least one newspaper was taken in. A reporter for the Defender praised the Baltimore Blues Orchestra, “a new musical organization…doing exclusive recording for Black Swan records,” unaware that name was simply a disguise for several white dance bands from the Olympic roster. Whether record buyers suspected a ruse went unreported, but Black Swan sales began to stall.

Pace reported sales of only 256,202 Black Swan records for fiscal year 1922. In his November 1922 financial statement, he disclosed that Black Swan had experienced “the greatest slump since we began business” during July. The slump persisted into early October, by which time Pace seemed resigned to average monthly sales of only 25,000 records. “I am trying to devise some sales plan whereby this figure can be greatly increased,” he wrote to Du Bois, “but regret to say that I have not yet hit upon it.” In the same month, Pace set up a dummy collection agency to handle delinquent accounts. Although it netted only $544 in its first month, he seemed pleased with that figure and reported that the operation was “still pulling them in.”

Pace advertised a new stock issue in October 1922, promising a “certain” 6% return in three years, plus 6% dividends.” The stock would soon be virtually worthless, and no dividends were forthcoming. On January 20, 1923, the Pace Phonograph Corporation was reorganized as the Black Swan Record Company. The change marked the end of Pace’s entanglement with John Fletcher, who would file for bankruptcy in December 1923. With the Fletcher connection severed, Pace returned to the New York Recording Laboratories for his pressings, using the Bridgeport Die & Machine Company in Connecticut to handle the occasional overflow. A new three-color label design and the release of a new catalog in May 1923 apparently did little to boost sales.

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Letterheads for the original Pace Phonograph Corporation (above) and the Black Swan Phonograph Company (below), a 1923 reorganization of the original corporation following Pace’s split with John Fletcher.

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The problems at Black Swan had not gone unnoticed by Pace’s artists. Alberta Hunter had been the first star of any magnitude to leave the label. Reportedly unhappy with Pace’s lackluster marketing efforts, she signed with Paramount in July 1922. Fletcher Henderson departed in November 1922 and was replaced as recording manager by William Grant Still. Pace, who had not been satisfied with Henderson’s work, predicted that “Still will bring wider experience and more technical musical knowledge than Henderson has had, and I believe will greatly improve the work of the records,” which did not prove to be the case. The major artist exodus occurred after reorganization, beginning with Trixie Smith’s defection to Paramount in March 1923.

Smith was followed in short order by Josie Miles, Julia Moody, Lena Wilson, and others, many of whom subsequently signed on as free-lance artists with music-publisher and talent-broker Joe Davis. In the meantime, Ethel Waters had begun touring on her own, and when the Black Swan Troubadours embarked on their 1923 tour, Josie Miles took her place. Waters quit the label in June, after returning from a transcontinental tour to discovery that the business was barely operating.

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Ethel Waters returned from her 1923 Black Swan tour to find the company barely operating. She left the label a short time later.

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The Black Swan office hosted a second-anniversary celebration during the first week of June 1923, but only a handful of new Black Swan releases were forthcoming after July, and some that were announced apparently are not known to have been  released. Fae Barnes filled what is believed to have been the last Black Swan session, in or around early August. The label’s final release (Ethel Waters’ “Sweet Man Blues” / “Ethel Sings ’Em,” recorded in June at her final Black Swan session) was advertised in The Chicago Defender for December 22, 1923. Black Swan advertised in the Defender for the last time on February 23, 1924. Even then, Pace was still soliciting “agents in every community.”

Pace’s debts (which reportedly included a substantial sum due the New York Recording Laboratories for pressing services) had become unmanageable by the end of 1923. In January 1924, NYRL executive M. A. Supper traveled from Wisconsin to New York to negotiate a buyout of Pace’s operation. On April 2, The Port Washington Herald reported that Pace had agreed to sell. The Black Swan Record Company was to remain in existence, but purely as a holding company. NYRL would take over the Black Swan trade name and goodwill, and it would continue to manufacture and distribute Black Swan recordings. The Black Swan masters would be licensed to NYRL, rather than being sold outright, in return for which Pace would be paid a monthly royalty. With Pace’s abandonment of Black Swan, the race-record business was now entirely in the hands of white-owned record companies.

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A redesigned Black Swan label appeared in early 1923 (left), following Pace’s split with John Fletcher. Pressings bearing this label were produced by both the New York Recording Laboratories and the Bridgeport Die & Machine Company (the example pictured here came from the latter). The ill-fated Paramount–Black Swan Record was introduced in June 1924 by NYRL, after licensing Pace’s masters.

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Consumers saw the first evidence of the new arrangement in May 1924, when NYRL’s advertising logo was changed to read “Paramount Records (Combined with Black Swan).” A hybrid Paramount–Black Swan label, combining both companies’ trademarks, was introduced with some fanfare a month later, but it never developed into anything more than a reissue vehicle for previously released Black Swan recordings. Having failed to attract much interest after ninety-nine releases, the Paramount–Black Swan label stalled. The Paramount licensing agreement was finally terminated in January 1926, by which time the Paramount–Black label had been discontinued.

Pace spent another working to liquidate Black Swan’s remaining debt of $18,006, a period he characterized in a final January 1927 appeal to Du Bois and other investors as “worry for me and punishing effort which appears to be wholly unappreciated by some.” He then turned his back on the recording industry, went on earn a law degree from the University of Chicago, and in later years operated an insurance business.

 

Selected References

“A Consolidation.” Chicago Defender (Apr 19, 1924), p. 6.

“A New York Incorporation.” Talking Machine World (Feb 15, 1921), p. 157.

Allen, Walter C. “Report on Black Swan.” Unpublished manuscript (Jun 12, 1961). William R. Bryant papers, Mainspring Press collection.

“Black Swan Artists Broadcast.” Talking Machine World (May 15, 1922), p. 43.

“Black Swan Takes Over Company.” Chicago Defender (Apr 1922).

“Black Swan Records—New Firm Announces First List of Productions.” Chicago Defender (May 4, 1921), p. 8.

“C. Udell Turpin Takes Charge.” Talking Machine World (Oct 15, 1921), p. 46.

“Demand for Ethel Waters Record.” Talking Machine World (Aug 15, 1921), p. 89.

“Distribution System of Black Swan Phonograph Records.” The Crisis (Mar 1922), p 221.

Du Bois, W. E. B. Letter to Roland Hayes (New York, Nov 24, 1922), re: Invitation to record for Black Swan. W. E. B. Du Bois Papers (Special Collections and University Archives, University of Massachusetts Amherst Libraries).

Du Bois, W. E. B., et al. “To the Stockholders of the Black Swan Phonograph Company” (New York, Jan 2, 1926). Du Bois Papers.

“Gives Jack Pickford Black Swan Records as Wedding Present.” Dallas Express (Nov 11, 1922), p. 1.

Handy, W. C. (Arna Bomtemps, editor). Father of the Blues—An Autobiography, pp. 202–203. New York: Macmillan (1941).

“New Incorporations.” New York Times (May 26, 1922), p. 34.

“New Incorporations—Capital Increases.” New York Times (Feb 1, 1923), p. 28

“New Incorporations—Delaware Charters.” New York Times (Feb 5, 1921), p. 22

“New York Charters—Name Changes.” New York Times (Jan 30, 1923), p. 27

“New Incorporations—New York Charters.” New York Times (Jun 25, 1921), p. 13.

“Now the Fletcher Record Company—Plant of Olympic Disc Record Corp. Purchased by Harry Pace and John Fletcher and Will Be Operated by a New ­Corporation.” Talking Machine World (Jul 15, 1922), p. 57.

Pace, Harry H. Letter to W. E. B. Du Bois (New York, Dec 27, 1920), re: Company launch and Du Bois’ proposal of the Black Swan name. Du Bois Papers.

 — . Letter to W. E. B. Du Bois (New York, Mar 21, 1922), re: Financial statement through Dec 31, 1921.

 — . Letter to W. E. B. Du Bois (New York, Dec 23, 1922), re: Roland Hayes, and proposal to press imported Caruso masters.  Du Bois Papers.

 — . Letter to Du Bois, et al. (New York, Jan 19, 1927), re: Ongoing attempts to liquidate Black Swan debt.

 — . Postcard to W. E. B. Du Bois (Port Washington, WI, Jun 24, 1921), re: Preparations for increased record production. Du Bois Papers.

 — . Stockholder Notice (New York, Jan 1, 1923), re: Organization of Black Swan Phonograph Company. Du Bois Papers.

Pace Phonograph Corp. “Black Swan Records.” U.S. trademark filing #149,558 (Jun 23, 1921).

“Pace Phonograph Corp. Changes Name.” Talking Machine World (Feb 15, 1923), p. 124.

“Phonograph Company Making Rapid Progress.” New York Age (Jun 18, 1921), p. 6.

“Purchase Black Swan Business.” Talking Machine World (Apr 15, 1924), p. 168.

“Report of Pace Phonograph Corporation” (Nov 8, 1922). Du Bois Papers.

“Robeson Casts His Chances with Pace Phonograph Co.” Chicago Defender (Jun 18, 1921), p. 9.

“The Horizon” (re: First-month record sales). The Crisis (Aug 1921), p. 176.

“The Horizon” (re: Black Swan distribution and record sales). The Crisis (Mar 1922), p. 220.

“The Swanola—A New Phonograph” (ad). The Crisis (Oct 1921), p. 284.

Thygesen, Helge, et al. Black Swan: The Record Label of the Harlem Renaissance. Nottingham, UK: VJM Publications (1996).

“To the Investing Public.” The Crisis (Nov 1922), p. 282.

“White Phonograph Record Companies Object to Colored Men Making Phonograph Records.” Dallas Express (Feb 26, 1921), p. 3.

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