The Obsolete Collection (Retail Division)

The recent post of "The Obsolete Collection" on my singles blog met with favor, so I decided to do a sequel. I've moved this new post over to the main site in the hopes that more people will see it, and perhaps investigate its predecessor.

The first "Obsolete Collection" covered songs having to do with lamplighters, kerosene lamps, steam locomotives, trolleys, rumble seats, telegrams, telephone party lines, cuckoo clocks, milkmen and typewriters.

This time we explore the retail trade, broadly considered, looking for records that have to do with formats that have had their time in the sun and are now looking a bit withered. Let's start off with that mainstay of my youth, the big city department store.

The Department Store

Macy's Herald Square, New York, back when there were horses and streetcars on the street, and the 6th Avenue El up above

Department stores have been around for more than a century, but seem to be experiencing a agonizingly slow death. Instead of the giant Macy's you see above, for example, the chain is now opening small format stores that would have fit in a old Macy's rest room. And that chain is one of the few survivors.

We can go back even to the 19th century and find records about the department store. The vaudeville comedian Cal Stewart made a living off his rural character Uncle Josh encountering city institutions, including the big store. Stewart first starting recording his "Uncle Josh in a Department Store" routine back in 1898, for the Berliner company. He took the same act over the Victor folks in 1901, then to Columbia and Zonophone before finishing up shortly before his death in 1919.

Our "Uncle Josh" version comes from a 1902 Victor session. Tastes were different then, and his yuck-yuck-yuck routine soon becomes annoying. 

I don't think the "country bumpkin" character was novel even back then, but it influenced comics up through Cliff Arquette and his "Charley Weaver" in the late 20th century.

As a bonus, I've included some "Radio Hucksters Store Spots," with a vocal group and combo limning the praises of notions, linens and so on. Each spot starts with a vocal, followed by a instrumental interlude designed so that local stores could add their specific plugs ("Yes, head on down to Blatnik's Boston Store, and find bargain after bargain ..." etc.), with a brief vocal outro.

The Five-and-Dime

This circa 1940 Phoenix postcard focuses on Woolworth's, but also helpfully points out its five-and-dime competitors Newberry's and Kress

The department store's less flossy cousin was the five-and-dime - Woolworth, Kresge, W.T. Grant and so on. These vendors tried to keep the prices low, but still had a wide variety of goods. The one near me when I was young had everything from birds to records. Some sold china and peanuts, and that's where our featured record comes in. It's one of the best known tunes in the set - "I Found a Million-Dollar Baby (in a Five-and-Ten Cent Store)." I've selected the 1931 hit version by Waring's Pennsylvanians, with a sincere vocal by Clare Hanlon and a trio. It also includes the seldom-heard verse, which was new to me.

Billy Rose found two million-dollar babies

But wait - there are two such "million-dollar baby" songs. An earlier one, with the same theme and title but different music and lyrics, had come out in 1926. Both seem to be the handiwork of lyricist-promoter Billy Rose, working with Fred Fisher on the earlier song, and with Harry Warren and Mort Dixon on the latter.

The 1926 song is represented by a snoozy Victor recording by tenor Henry Burr, apparently a John McCormack fancier. The peppier approach taken by Waring's band works much better.

The Pool Hall

Ya got trouble ... watch out for the guy with the meat hooks

Do pool halls exist nowadays? I haven't seen one lately. But they were an urban favorite way back when. The picture above (it's a pool room in Washington Court House, Ohio) is roughly contemporary with the time period of Meredith Willson's The Music Man, which set in 1912 in "River City," Iowa (a stand in for Willson's home town, Mason City). The 1957 musical includes the magnificent spiel "Ya Got Trouble," where con man "Professor" Harold Hill proselytizes the townfolk about the depths of de-gra-day [tion] involved with the forthcoming transformation of the genteel billiard parlor into a wicked pool hall.

The song was introduced on Broadway by the magnetic Robert Preston, but I thought you might like to hear Willson's own version, which comes from one of those "And Then I Wrote" LPs. He's almost as good as Preston. FYI - the LP was in awful early stereo with Willson's voice seeming to come from the far right of the sound stage. He needs to be front and center, so I've moved him there.

The Nickelodeon

A circa 1910 nickelodeon

A "nickelodeon" was a cheap place to watch the early silent films. Entrepreneurs would take over a storefront, add some chairs, a screen and a projector, and voila, the Comique in Toronto (above), which was one of the fancier operations, by the looks of it. 

The word "nickelodeon" is a portmanteau of "nickel" (the price of admission) and odeon (from the Greek word for a covered theater). But somehow, the term "nickelodeon" transmigrated to also describe a coin operated player piano, and to some degree, what we would call a jukebox (which we'll get to next).

How do you improve a player piano? Add a drum, a cymbal and an accordion!

I haven't discovered any songs celebrating the original meaning of the word, but there is a well-known number that deals with the coin-op piano - "Music, Music, Music," aka "Put Another Nickel In" and "The Nickelodeon." Quite an elaborate set of titles to describe a simple melody with a bridge swiped from Franz Liszt.

The big hit of this song was by Teresa Brewer, a record I have detested since I was a small child. So I've included the original version, by one Etienne Paree with Eddie "Piano" Miller, whose playing is so metronomic it sounds appropriately mechanical. Actually this version is as bad as Brewer's, and Etienne is a little creepy.

The nickelodeon as theater was supplanted by movie palaces as the audience for films grew. I've recognized the days of silent films by including a snatch of stereotypical "chase music" ("The Chase") as played on a theater organ such as you might heave heard in one of the more elaborate showplaces..

As for coin-operated player pianos, you may be able to find one in your local museum.

The Juke Box

Wurlitzer would have had you believe that even a rural hideaway could afford its fancy model 1015

When we think about "putting another nickel in," those of us of a certain age think of the jukebox, that coin-operated marvel where you could watch the machine grab the record, put it on a turntable and bring the tonearm down so the music would flow.

Jukeboxes are not extinct, but there was a time when they were ubiquitous. So to celebrate them, let's begin with perhaps the most famous such record - the Glenn Miller version of "Jukebox Saturday Night," from 1942. The vocalists are Marion Hutton, Tex Beneke and the Modernaires. The original includes an impression of Harry James' "Ciribiribin" and Ralph Brewster's droll send-up of the Ink Spots' "If I Didn't Care."

Two of the Modernaires' three recordings of "Juke Box Saturday Night"

The Mods knew they were onto a good thing, so they made a Soundie version in 1944, remade the single record for Columbia in 1946 and put together a "New Jukebox Saturday Night" for Coral in 1953. I've included the latter in the package - it features their takes on Don Cornell, Les Paul and Mary Ford, the Four Aces and Johnnie Ray.

Juke boxes were still the thing later in the 1950s, when Perry Como treated us to Joe and Noel Sherman's "Juke Box Baby." Mr. C continued the Modernaires' habit of name checking other songs, including any number of current hits in passing.

This ditty, which shows off Perry's keen sense of rhythm, was on the flip side of another famous Como epic, "Hot Diggity." You will realize this is an old record when Perry complains to Juke Box Baby, "You don't dig Latin like ya dig that crazy sound." Latin? Talk about obsolete! Mine was probably the last generation that had to relieve Caesar's Gallic Wars.

The Road House

A "swanky" road house

Now, where did one find these juke boxes? Well, they were common, but certainly one place would be at the old road houses, a bar or club out on a country road. These sometimes were venues where you could find gambling and other once or still-illegal pastimes. 

Road houses have inspired several excellent songs. We'll start off with the wonderful "Road House Boogie," a 1949 R&B opus by Big Jay McNeely, with an uncredited vocal by (I believe) Ted Shirley. (Big Jay is the honkin' tenor sax player.) As always with these adventures, the singer ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time. ("Saturday Night Fish Fry" is perhaps the most famous example.)

The next year brought another classic, this one from the honky-tonk giant Lefty Frizzell - "If You've Got the Money, I've Got the Time," his first record. Louche Lefty picks up a lady with some money, and tells her they'll drive out to all the hot spots and "dance, drink beer and wine." (He insists, "Bring along your Cadillac, leave my old wreck behind.") But, the denouement comes - "If you've got no more money, honey, I've got no more time."

The title is an example of country artists turning an off-color catchphrase into a song. Another was Hank Penny's "Wham! Bam! Thank You, Ma'am!"

Finally, the more innocent "Down the Road Apiece," which Don Raye wrote in 1940 for him and Ray McKinley to sing with the Will Bradley Trio. Just a short while ago, we heard McKinley's remake with his big band, but today let's jump ahead a few decades to the insanely rocking version from the young Rolling Stones. In this reading, Mick Jagger rewrites the lyrics so that instead of calling on "Eight-Beat Mack" (i.e., McKinley), he calls out "Charlie McCoy, you all remember that rubber legged boy." Not sure how he came up with McCoy (or rubber-legged), but he's surely referring to the Stones' own drummer, Charlie Watts.

The Drive-In

Orange you glad you went to the Orange Drive-in?

If you were going to drive out to the sticks, you might want to take in a movie in the questionable comfort of your car. Drive-ins are still around, but they are not as popular as they once were. Back in 1964, they were still the place for a couple to canoodle in the dark. The Beach Boys immortalized the drive-in experience on their "Drive-In," which was a cut on their All Summer Long LP.

The term "drive-in" also encompassed the type of restaurant where you ordered from your car and the uniformed attendant brought you your food. These spots are still around, but again, not nearly as plentiful as they once were. Where I lived many years ago, there was a drive-in restaurant right down the street from a drive-in theater, so that was convenient on a Saturday night.

Joe - er, Dolores' - Drive-In 

In 1947, veteran singer-songwriter Seger Ellis praised "Joe's Drive-In" as the place to head after seeing a show, "so I can feed this face of mine." A fun record from the author of "Little Jack Frost, Get Lost" (written with Al Stillman) and "You're All I Want for Christmas" (with Glenn Moore).

The estimable Nelson Riddle also put out a record called "Drive In." I don't know whether the title refers to the film or food variety (presumably not drive-in banks or churches), so I've parked it in between the Beach Boys and Seger Ellis.

The Gas Station

Service with a smile, but try not to drip from your nozzle

Now, if you were going on a road trip, presumably you would have needed gasoline, so let's memorialize these palaces of petroleum before they are replaced by charging stations.

Gas stations are still common on the roadways, but they are much different enterprises from when I would gas 'em up, change the oil, sell you tires, replace your muffler, do a tune up or brake job, etc. That was nearly 60 years ago when gas stations were self-styled "service stations." Today they are a combination of convenience store, fast food vendor, THC emporium and car wash. And no one but you pumps the gas (in most places).

To recognize the old days, we have a lively piece called "Gas Station Mambo" by the fabulous Pérez Prado and his band, from 1953. In this station, the proprietor greets you by shouting "uh!" and "dilo!" The band sings about something or other, but I don't habla español. (I studied Latin, remember.)

And to get you in the mood to hang around the old grease rack, as I once did, we have a "Filling Station Effects" transcription featuring a very loud grease gun followed by the racket of an old-school gas pump, complete with periodic dings. The gas pump sounds like it could have used some lubrication itself. I would not recommend that you have this one on repeat play.

The Motel

Circa 1940s postcard 

We finish our survey with the motel, also still around, but much different from what it once was. A case in point is the Lazy Acres Motel above, once a modest motel, today primarily an RV park. And it's a survivor. Most of these rural retreats are long gone.

Lazy Acres did some radio advertising back circa 1950 on the Los Angeles radio program of Western Swing's Spade Cooley. We have a promotional record appropriately titled "Lazy Acres Motel." The song is performed by the Prairie Schooner Boys, who suggest you "take Route 99 and look for the sign - Lazy Acres Motel." Note that author of the song is one "Stan Feberg," probably the future musical satirist Stan Freberg.

I've heard worse promos - the department stores spots above, for example.

Bonus Track - "The Lamplighter's Serenade"

Dave Federman asked me if I would try to resuscitate a song that I could have included in the original "Obsolete Collection" - "The Lamplighter's Serenade." 

In my collection, I had chosen the slightly later "Old Lamplighter," but the Serenade is a fine record, too, written by Hoagy Carmichael and Paul Francis Webster.

I was familiar with the Miller and Sinatra versions, but Dave has uncovered a first-rate example by Woody Herman in an uncharacteristically mellow mood.

I found two copies of the 1942 78 on Internet Archive, but neither was in particularly good shape, offering an explosion of noise punctuated by peak distortion. I've taken the best parts of each disc, moderated the noise and mostly ameliorated the distortion so that the record now sounds acceptable.

The selections in this post came from IA and my collection. The sound is generally very good, even for Uncle Josh and his 1902 visit to the big city.

LINK to The Obsolete Collection (Retail Division)

'Twas Brillig - The Songs of 'Alice in Wonderland'

The idea of doing an animated or hybrid live action/animation version of the perennially popular Alice in Wonderland - or as its author, Lewis Carroll called it, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - was in the back of Walt Disney's mind for many years before he got around to producing the famous 1951 film.

Lewis Carroll

Before Disney's film, there had been at least six film versions (not counting a few shorts by Walt himself), and two television productions, including one that aired while the 1951 film version was in production.

In the 1940s, Disney had contemplated a live-action/animated version with Ginger Rogers in the title role. This did not come to pass, but Rogers (a strange choice) recorded some Victor Young-Frank Luther songs for the project. The resulting album can be found here.

Bob Hilliard and Sammy Fain

In 1946, Disney asked the well-known Mack David, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston to work up some Alice songs, as they had done for Cinderella. Only one was eventually used - "The Unbirthday Song." Disney's next choice was the pairing of Sammy Fain and Bob Hilliard. Composer Fain had only just started working with the lyricist, but they already had a success with "Dear Hearts and Gentle People." Their songs ultimately became the backbone of the film's score, although the teams of Cy Coben-Oliver Wallace, Don Raye-Gene de Paul and Mack David-Jerry Livingston-Al Hoffman also contributed excellent numbers.

Despite the film's patchwork of composers, the songs from Alice hold together very well, and were taken up by some of the best performers of the day. As such they make for a entertaining playlist, which I've put together for you. This set does not include anything from the soundtrack itself, which Disney did not get around to issuing until the CD era.

Here are the Alice songs, presented in the order of their appearance in the film, with one exception. All numbers are by Fain and Hilliard unless noted otherwise.

I hope I don't get too many details of the film wrong: I haven't seen Alice since I was seven. And that was a while ago.

'Alice in Wonderland'

Alice

The idea for doing this post actually originated in one of my items devoted to the superb vocalist Stuart Foster. I was mightily impressed by the recording he made with Hugo Winterhalter of Alice's title song. This dreamy reverie perfectly sets off the more eccentric songs in the score.

At the risk of repeating myself, I've included the Foster-Winterhalter recording to start off this collection.

'I'm Late'

The White Rabbit

Danny Kaye

The lament of the White Rabbit - "I'm Late" - was for many years the most often heard song from the score. Here is a version by Danny Kaye, whose ability to sing very fast while conveying comic neurosis is perfect for the Rabbit. The clever lyrics are a big help, of course. Dave Terry conducted the band for this Coral recording.

Kaye makes two return appearances below.

'How D'Ye Do and Shake Hands'

One of these is Tweedledee, the other Tweedledum

The next two songs are given over to the ever-popular Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Their first number is the wacky "How D'Ye Do and Shake Hands." It's an item that did have some currency on the televised variety shows of the time because it lends itself to an ensemble presentation.

Two of the leading labels of the day - RCA Victor and Decca - gathered four of their biggest names to have a go at it. I've included both recordings, hopefully not trying your patience in the process.

RCA's effort starred Betty Hutton, Dinah Shore, Phil Harris and Tony Martin - two who specialized in comic songs (Hutton and Harris) and two who did not. Phil and Betty come off better; the other two sound a little embarrassed to be there. Henri René led the band with "horns by courtesy of Spike Jones."

Jimmy, Jane, Groucho

The competition from Decca started off with the ever-present Danny Kaye, adding Jimmy Durante and Groucho Marx. The fourth voice belonged to Jane Wyman, who not only could sing, but was adept with comic numbers - as she proved that same year with her duet with Bing on "In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening" in Here Comes the Groom.

The Decca recording, with Sonny Burke leading the band, is the better of the two. Thanks to my pal Ernie for bringing these to my attention!

'The Walrus and the Carpenter'

Danny Kaye returns with another Tweedledum/dee specialty, their tale of the "The Walrus and the Carpenter," a setting of a Carroll poem. The backing is again by Dave Terry.

Carroll's off-center approach to words was perfect for Kaye - the carpenter and walrus are on a beach, and the carpenter assures the walrus, "We'll sweep this clear / In 'alf a year, / If you don't mind the work!"

'All in the Golden Afternoon'

"All in the Golden Afternoon" is the preface poem to Carroll's book, but in the film Fain's setting is used for a scene with Alice and the flowers.

Kukla, Burr, Ollie and Fran

"Golden Afternoon" inspired commercial recordings by Rosemary Clooney and Anne Shelton, but I have chosen the version by a sentimental favorite, Fran Allison, working with Wayne King's orchestra. Allison was the "Fran" in Kukla, Fran and Ollie, Burr Tillstrom's puppet show that was a favorite of early TV viewers, especially me.

Allison was not a great singer - not as good as Clooney or Shelton, anyway - but her vocalizing here is charming.

'Twas Brillig

We're in a different world altogether with the next song, "'Twas Brillig," which was allotted to the Cheshire Cat and his perma-grin. (Parenthetically, there are many explanations of the genesis of the phrase, "grinning like a Cheshire cat," but it's clear the expression and character did not originate with Carroll.)

The song was borrowed from Carroll's Alice follow-up Through the Looking Glass. The author called it "Jabberwocky," but the film goes by its first words, "'Twas Brillig," which continues, "and the slithy toves / Did gyre and gimble in the wabe". It's often called a nonsense poem, but Carroll's initial version was a send-up of Old English. Nonsense or not, the poem did contribute at least two words to the dictionary - "chortled" and "galumphing," both favorites of mine.

Lucy Ann Polk

"'Twas Brillig" being a sort of Victorian jive talk, it appealed to some of the musicians of the mid-20th century. Hollywood songwriters Don Raye and Gene de Paul set it to music, and a nice job they did of it, too. I've included the fine recording by Les Brown's band, with a accomplished vocal from the talented Lucy Ann Polk. This is one of the best things in the collection. The Brown record makes use of only the first stanza of Carroll's poem. (The complete poem and more about its language can be found here.)

'The Unbirthday Song'

Alice at tea with the Hatter and Hare

A second number that found some life outside of the film was "The Unbirthday Song," another clever piece, this one given to the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. It was contributed by the popular songwriters Mack David, Jerry Livingston and Al Hoffman.

I've chosen the version by Rosemary Clooney, one of the four Alice songs she recorded for Columbia's children's label. Rosie can seem perfunctory in kiddie material, but she gets this one right. Percy Faith leads the band.

'Very Good Advice'

Peggy King

"Very Good Advice" is Alice's song of disillusionment. She fears she won't return home, and sings, "I give myself very good advice / But I very seldom follow it / That explains the trouble that I'm always in."

Here, too, we turn to the big band ranks for the RCA recording by Ralph Flanagan and his orchestra, with a vocal by Peggy King, 20 years old and sounding younger. Her simple approach is right for the song, one of the best by Fain and Hilliard.

You may note on the record label that King was spelling her first name "Pegge" early in her career. One of her few LPs is available here.

'Painting the Roses Red'

Fred Waring

Alice encounters playing cards who are busying themselves by painting the roses red. Why? Because they mistakenly planted white roses and the Queen of Hearts prefers red. (She catches on anyway and has them beheaded - which is her impulse on most occasions. This may seem to be a not-very-oblique commentary on Queen Victoria, but it's said that she loved the book.)

The abbreviated version here is from the song-storybook by Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians, a polished production for Decca.

'The March of the Cards'

The Three Suns

I am not the biggest fan of the Three Suns, but their foursquare approach to music suits "The March of the Cards." (The Three Suns were reportedly the favorite group of noted hipster Mamie Eisenhower.) The Sammy Fain tune was taken up by a number of other artists - among them Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops, Waring and pianist Winifred Atwell.

This is the only strictly instrumental piece in this collection, and is well in keeping with the jaunty approach of some of the other selections.

From the top in the photo above are Artie Dunn, organ, Morty Nevins, accordion, and Al Nevins, guitar.

'In a World of My Own'

The song "In a World of My Own" is introduced at the beginning of the film, but the best version on record may be by Fred Waring's group, which segues into a reprise of the "Alice in Wonderland" theme music at the end of their set. For that reason, I've kept it in that place to close this collection, save for the bonus track below.

A Jazz Version of the Theme

Paul Desmond and Dave Brubeck

The "Alice in Wonderland" theme was unexpectedly popular with certain jazz musicians. I've capped this collection with Dave Brubeck's first recording of the composition, dating from 1952. He would return to it five years later for Columbia and a complete LP called Dave Digs Disney.

Brubeck's pianism often seemed labored, as it does here. But the compensation is the wonderful alto saxophonist Paul Desmond, who contributes a typically lyrical solo, drawing an evocative tone from an instrument that can sound shrill.

Disney's Alice in Wonderland is highly regarded today, but lost money at the box office on its initial release. Walt himself was unhappy with the product, thinking it had insufficient heart. One critic complained that it "utterly lacked enchantment." To me, the opposite is true - Disney's artists brought Carroll's wonderland to life with great skill. Gracing it all was a diverse score that nonetheless hangs together and is a entertaining complement to Carroll's story and the Disney storytellers.

These records are primarily from Internet Archive, as refurbished by me.

One final note - "Lewis Carroll" was a pen name. The author was in reality Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832-98), who was at once a clergyman, an Oxford don in mathematics, a poet, an author and a photographer. You may have noticed that the title card at the top of this post has a typo in Carroll's name.

Buster's New Year Selection

While Christmas music is rife, there aren't all that many tunes celebrating the holiday that comes along one week later, New Year's Day. If I asked you to name a New Year's song, you would probably reply "Auld Lang Syne" and then draw a blank.

But over the years there have been quite a few records marking the New Year, which I discovered by nosing around Internet Archive. I found several different "Happy New Year" songs along with an "Unhappy New Year," and many takes on "Auld Lang Syne," including a polka, a bluegrass version and an "Auld Lang Syne Boogie." In all, I was able to build a 22-song compilation of 78s dating from 1907 to 1956. A few notes about each follow.

Cal Stewart

The oldest platter is Cal Stewart's "Uncle Josh's New Year Pledge," a comic monologue that seems strangely without comedy 113 years later. Stewart was a vaudeville star who made many records in his "Uncle Josh" guise. Although we may find him unfunny, the character was influential - you can find traces of him in Will Rogers and Charley Weaver, among others.

From 1915, we have the Victor Light Opera Company presenting "Gems from Chin Chin," an "orientalist fantasy" by Ivan Caryll and Anne Caldwell that was on Broadway at the time. Such "orientalist" productions were popular at the time. The best known is probably Chu Chin Chow, which came along a few years later. "Gems from Chin Chin" begins with a "Happy New Year" number.

Don Redman

We leap ahead a few decades to Don Redman and his swing arrangement of "Auld Lang Syne" recorded in 1938. The band vocal consists entirely of counting to 20 and then reversing course. Novelty vocals were a feature of Redman's repertoire.

From 1942, we have Bing Crosby's commercial recording of "Let's Start the New Year Right," a song that Irving Berlin wrote for the Crosby-Astaire film Holiday Inn. Crosby's vocal in the film is much livelier.

Dinah Shore recorded an deeply felt wartime version of "Auld Lang Syne" in 1944, with backing by the Sportsmen and an orchestra conducted by the short-lived Albert Sack. This is surely one of the best records in this collection.

At about the same time, the Warsaw Dance Orchestra produced a polka called "New Year" for the small Harmonia label, which specialized in ethnic recordings.

Fred Waring, his choral group and the Pennsylvanians did a stirring version of the Brown and Henderson song "Let Us All Sing Auld Lang Syne" in 1945.

We return to the polka realm with Bill Gale and His Globetrotters, who recorded their "Auld Lang Syne Polka" for Columbia in 1946. Gale, who I believe was from Chicago, was born Bill Gula and had made records in earlier years with his Bee Gee Tavern Band, including a cover version of the "Beer Barrel Polka," a major hit in 1939 for Will Glahé.

One of the lesser-known romantic crooners of the era was the talented John Laurenz, who recorded for Mercury, including "A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year" in 1948. I also included this song in last year's Christmas compilation, noting at that time, "If there are any Bowery Boys fans out there, you may be interested to know that Laurenz dubbed Huntz Hall's vocals in the great Blues Busters, in which Satch becomes the world's most unlikely romantic crooner."

Also from 1948 we have "Happy New Year" from Jeffrey Clay, the Serenaders and Dana records honcho Gus Dana. This is a most peculiar children's record, with two youngsters saying goodbye to a depressed sounding "Mr. Old Year" and welcoming in the new. The boy character is played by a young boy, but the girl is a woman trying to sound like a child and mainly coming off as demented. After the baby New Year makes an appearance amidst some unconvincing sound effects, the record turns into a polka. The vocal is presumably by Jeffrey Clay.

Freddy Morgan, Sir Frederick Gas, Doodles Weaver, Spike Jones

Spike Jones and crew trot out their New Year's resolutions in "Happy New Year" from 1948, with contributions from the usual culprits - Sir Frederick Gas, Doodles Weaver, George Rock and Spike himself. Freddy Morgan and Eddie Brandt wrote this wildly politically incorrect nonsense.

Freddie Mitchell

Next comes the "Auld Lang Syne Boogie" from Freddie Mitchell, his honking saxophone and his orchestra. Freddie made this in 1949 for the Derby label, where he led the house band. I uploaded a Mitchell compilation about 10 years ago, and have newly remastered the sound for those who like this type of R&B.

The great vocal duo of Jackie Cain and Roy Kral chose "Auld Lang Syne" for one of their first solo records, which they made for Atlantic in 1949 as the "Roy Kral - Jackie Cain Sextet." This was at about the time that they departed from the Charlie Ventura band.

Also in 1949, the wonderful English singer Vera Lynn produced an emotional reading of "Auld Lang Syne" with the subtitle "The Good-night Waltz." The backing is by Robert Farnon's orchestra and the Mitchell Men.

Songwriters Carmen Lombardo and Johnny Marks came up with a number called "Happy New Year, Darling" in 1946. I haven't found a recording by the Lombardo clan, but veteran bandleader Ted Black did a smooth version in 1949 with a Dick Edwards vocal.

Composer-arranger Gordon Jenkins had a predilection for downbeat songs. You may be familiar with "Goodbye," which Benny Goodman used as his closing theme and which Frank Sinatra featured on his Only the Lonely LP. But Jenkins' "Happy New Year" is surely the most depressing of the group, here in a 1949 recording by the composer with Bob Senn as solo vocalist.

Eddie (Piano) Miller

More sprightly is the next number, a "New Year Medley" from Eddie (Piano) Miller, also from 1949. Miller was one of the first practitioners of the "old-timey" piano sound - a genre I generally avoid. These pianists with their corny effects, sleeve garters and bowler hats were inescapable in the 1950s.

More to my taste is "Haouli Maka Hiki Hou! (Happy New Year!)" from one of the most famous Hawaiian musicians, Genoa Keawe, here with her Polynesians. This record is on the 49th State Record Company label, and dates from 1950, nine years before Hawaii became the 50th state. The name was apparently invented in an excess of postwar optimism about statehood.

The Oklahoma Wranglers - Skeeter, Vic and Guy Willis
with Chuck Wright

The Oklahoma Wranglers were the first incarnation of the Willis Brothers, who later became known for truck-drivin' songs, notably "Give Me Forty Acres (To Turn This Rig Around)." The Wranglers (brothers Guy, Skeeter and Vic along with bassist Chuck Wright, who was billed as the “Silent Old Indian”) made a living backing Hank Williams and then Eddy Arnold while recording such fare as "Unhappy New Year" for RCA Victor in 1951.

Nicola Paone put out many ethnically-tinged records in the 1950s, mostly for his own label. His "New Year Song" was released by RCA Victor in 1952.

Billy Ward and His Dominoes were among the most popular R&B groups of the early 1950s, scoring with "Sixty Minute Man" among others. In 1953, Ward came up with "Ringing in a Brand New Year" for the King label. R&B expert Marv Goldberg isn't sure who sang lead, but says it was probably Billy. It certainly wasn't Jackie Wilson, who succeeded Clyde McPhatter as the group's lead vocalist around this time.

Bobby and Sonny Osborne, with Jimmy Martin

We close our collection with a superb bluegrass reading of "Auld Lang Syne" from Sonny Osborne with the Sunny Mountain Boys. The 18-year-old Sonny was already a veteran musician who had been recording for Gateway for several years. The fiddle solo here is probably the work of Sonny's brother Bobby. The siblings would later be billed as the Osborne Brothers, and would become famous for their incredible 1967 recording of "Rocky Top."

The sound on these is generally excellent - even the 113-year-old record sounds good. Best wishes for a happy and prosperous new year to all!