Saturday, September 14, 2013

Lennie Tristano - What's Wrong With The Beboppers


In the late 1940's, Lennie Tristano was receiving roughly similar commercial success as the young trumpeter Miles Davis. He was performing on major radio shows, winning awards from magazines, and was recording for Capitol records. For more about Tristano in this period, read my previous article about his innovative Intuition and Digression recordings.

In 1947, Tristano was named “Musician of the Year” by Metronome magazine, and was invited to write two articles for the monthly periodical. These articles were critiques of modern jazz, one describing the pros and one describing the cons of the "bebop" movement. In the first article, "What's Wrong with the Beboppers", Tristano criticizes those who thoughtlessly copycat the style and mannerisms of Dizzy Gillespie and others.


What's Wrong With The Beboppers
a great musician analyzes, defines and questions

by Lennie Tristano

BEBOP is a definite step forward in the art of jazz. As with any art form, this progress has met with multiple and varied opposition. Jazz has not yet found acceptance with the American public; and bebop, an advanced and complex outgrowth of that jazz, exists precariously above the uncomprehending ears of the average person. But it is the musicians themselves, the vendors of jazz, who in many cases make their own lives difficult. The protagonists of Dixieland regard bebop as a war-time fad. However, the supercilious attitude and lack of originality of the young hipsters constitute no less a menace to the existence of bebop.

An approximation of Tristano's pseudo-hip bopper. Source.
These young boppers spend most of their time acquiring pseudo-hip affectations instead of studying and analyzing modern jazz with the aim of contributing something original to it. A typical manifestation peculiar to them is their effort to appear completely relaxed. Sitting implies muscular tension, so they slouch. They don't walk; they amble—with a delayed beat. They gaze indifferently at the uninitiate through drooping lids, muttering, “It's cool, Daddy-o.”

There is an unfortunate belief that to play like the great jazzmen, you must live like them. Close examination might reveal that the productivity of these creative minds has often been stagnated by self-destructive habits.

"Dizzy" Gillespie
Artistically the situation is just as deplorable. These little monkey-men of music steal note for note the phrases of the master of the new idiom, John Birks “Dizzy” Gillespie. Their endless repetition of these phrases makes living in their midst like fighting one's way through a nightmare in which bebop pours out of the walls, the heavens, and the coffeepot. Most boppers contribute nothing to the idiom. Whether they play drums, saxophone, piano, trombone, or glockenspiel, it still comes out Gillespie. Dizzy probably thinks he's in a house of mirrors; but, in spite of this barrage of dead echoes, he still sounds great. They manage to steal some of his notes, but his soul stays on the record.

A better approach for boppers would consist of studying, then analyzing the idiom. This would determine its harmonic structure, unique inflections, and phraseology. The next step is the use of these components in improvisation. Since lightness, fleetness, and facility are attributes of modern jazz, they should be integrated with originality and knowledge to form an expression which may be similar in style but different according to individual personalities. Even the phraseology may be utilized if it is done with inventiveness rather than through plagiarism.

Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, and others. Source.
A fashion of present-day erudition is the procedure of pigeon-holing. People and things are divided and sub-divided and placed in groups, classes, and categories. Accordingly, this idiom had to be labeled. It was tagged “bebop.” For the purpose of identification and articulate discussion, this labeling is helpful if not accurate. It must be understood that bebop is diametrically opposed to the jazz that preceded it (swing as applied to large groups, and Dixieland as applied to small ones). Swing was hot, heavy, and loud. Bebop is cool, light, and soft. The former bumped and chugged along like a beat locomotive; this was known in some quarters as drive. The latter has a more subtle beat which becomes more pronounced by implication. At this low volume level many interesting and complex accents may be introduced effectively. The phraseology is next in importance because every note is governed by the underlying beat. This was not true of swing; for example, the long arpeggios which were executed with no sense of time, the prolonged tremolos, and the sustained scream notes.

There are many people who refuse to let jazz grow beyond their capacity to hear and understand it. There are others whose response to jazz is so completely emotional that they are unwilling to concede the aesthetic and intellectual progress that is demonstrated in bebop. There is a group of critics whose inability to understand and discuss bebop forces them to cling violently to the old familiar patterns. This is the most difficult group to combat in the battle to educate the public. They prove their vulgar and unintelligent approach by the innocuous patter they inflict on the trade papers. The musicians who refuse to yield to the new are a little less objectionable since a feeling of security forms such an important part of any man's existence. On the other hand, if these same musicians deny the validity and the necessity of progress, then they must be ruthlessly disregarded.

Jazz will eventually become an art form which will be taken seriously by those hitherto unappreciative of it. It will not be held back by the dancing public, profaned by the deified critics, or restricted in its growth by its poor imitators, even when they imitate jazz at its best.
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I'll make another post soon, when I have access to the second article, "What's Right with the Beboppers". To make sure you see the post when it's made, make sure to subscribe to this blog.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Free Improvisation Series: Robert Crum (part two)

Part Two: Two Souls Touch - The Robert Crum / Stuff Smith Collaboration

In October 1944 Robert Crum began an innovative collaboration with the violinist Stuff Smith. Smith (Sept. 14, 1909 – Sept. 25, 1967) was a popular jazz musician and would become of the most influential violinists in jazz history. By the 1940's he was well-known and respected, and something of a music industry darling. He played Alphonso Trent's territory band on-and-off from late 1927 until 1931.16 He played with Jelly Roll Morton for a brief period in 1928. After marrying, he settled for a time in Buffalo, NY. In 1936, he had a hit recording with I'se a Muggin', and worked steadily at the Onyx Club in New York City. Smith played with Fats Waller's band and travelled to Hollywood, CA for several months in 1943. Smith returned to New York in August 1944 for a stint at the Onyx Club.17
 
Prior to his move to New York, Smith had played a steady gig at Chicago's Garrick Stage Bar. Smith and Crum met during this period, and the two are known to have played together at the Hamilton Hotel's Sunday afternoon jam sessions in the summer of 1943. In a Billboard article, Crum and Smith are given mention in a long list of other participants, including Muggsy Spanier and Baby Dodds.18 (There is a photograph from the Otto Flückiger collection which shows Smith and Crum sharing the bandstand.19)
Crum on-stage (left) with Smith (right) at Chicago's Garrick Stage Bar. Photograph from the Otto Flückiger collection; used by permission of Robert Campbell and the Red Saunders Research Foundation.
While little else is known for certain, enough pieces of evidence can be found that the following account of their collaboration can be constructed. Smith and Crum made at least three visits to the apartment of Timme Rosenkrantz and Inez Cavanaugh: one on October 21st, and one each on December 16th and 18th.20 Like the recordings that became Erroll Garner's Overture to Dawn, the music that Smith and Crum played at these visits was experimental and very different from publicly-performed jazz of that period. In the words of Dr. Billy Taylor, it was “exciting, adventurous jazz, but very much ahead of its time.”21 Most of the pieces from the October session do not appear to follow any repeating or linear structure at all. They begin with brief melodic or harmonic sketches, then trail off into improvised counterpoint. Crum and Smith's level of invention and empathy is impressive and engaging. Portions of harmonic commonality and beautiful lyricism give way to moments of abstract association, where the musical fabric threatens to unravel completely. But fear is always abated, as the Smith and Crum skillfully connect to another segment of music with taste, inevitability, and often humor.

Harmonica player Pete Pedersen.
Crum had experimented with this type of freely-associative playing before. During his Chicago years, Crum played regularly with Pete Pedersen, who would later become famous as a member of Jerry Murad's Harmonicats, who remembered their collaborations fondly: “We would make up songs together. We were never booked to do this … but we'd say 'Give us a story' and we'd make a song to it … He would play piano, I would play harmonica and we'd just improvise.”22 (Interestingly, Pederson also knew Smith in Chicago, and remembers that “[Smith] would show me licks and things, and that's how I got started. That was the first person I ever heard that really put an influence on me.”)23

 The Crum/Smith collaboration would have been significant even if these Rosenkrantz apartment sessions were the end of the story. But as it happened, a major effort was undertaken to publicly present their musical innovations. In December 1944, Barry Ulanov organized the first of a series of concerts at New York's Times Hall, which were to present “The New Jazz”. This “First Series” featured headliners Pearl Bailey, Barney Bigard, Erroll Garner and Stuff Smith. Don Byas and Red Norvo were also featured. The concert was organized with assistance from Rosenkrantz, Cavanaugh, and Paul Rosen (about whom I know nothing).24
An advertisement for the December 20th 1944 Times Hall concert.

The concert was arranged under the auspices of View: the Modern Magazine, a quarterly periodical, specializing in modern art, film and literature.25 Ulanov, who was also the editor of Metronome magazine, contributed a column to each issue called “Jazz Of This Quarter”. (Ulanov would be a significant proponent of Lennie Tristano's career a few years later.) The impressive list of concert patrons and sponsors boasted many prominent artists and philanthropists, including millionaires Mary Cushing and Helena Rubenstein, ballet choreographer George de Cuevas, sculptor Alexander Calder, composer Aaron Copland, artist Marcel Duchamp, and many others.26 By all accounts, it was a major undertaking: certainly the highest profile concert to date that Robert Crum had participated in.

In the evening's concert notes, Ulanov provided the following description of the duo pieces to be played by Smith and Crum: “Should [these] improvisations be confined to jazz? In a series of deliberations, first canonic, then less rigorously formal, the violinist with the jazz background, the pianist with a classical, offer a provocative answer, as they extend the resources of the improviser to those of all music.”27 Rather than downplaying Smith and Crum's differing musical backgrounds, Ulanov drew attention to them, implying that “The New Jazz” may very well draw more explicitly from other styles of music.28 A radical departure from traditional jazz, in terms of instrumentation, style, form, and the definitions of composition/improvisation, a performance of this music at this kind of event constituted a major statement about the present (and future) state of American music.
 
Although Ulanov wrote a predictably glowing review of the concert in the March 1945 issue of View,29 most critics expressed skepticism, especially toward Crum. Leonard Feather wrote, that although “Stuff was superb, unpredictable, intensely rhythmic as ever … Crum, a frustrated classical pianist, seemed out of place.”30 Downbeat writer Frank Stacy called the improvisations “plain disconcerting”, mentioning Crum's “disturbing nervous [on stage] mannerisms”. Somewhat in contrast, the Modern Music quarterly wrote a largely negative review, but noted that “The bright spot in the [Smith & Crum] improvisation was a bitonal clash of personalities … Neither would yield, and so the piece ended in a most peculiar way.”31 Smith's widow Arlene Smith illuminates Stacy's comments, remembering that Crum was “dressed in formal wear with white tennis shoes which was pretty strange in those days”.32

The opinions of View magazine's staff and editors is perhaps evident in that for the May issue, Ulanov's column “Jazz of this Quarter” was taken over by Roger Pryor Dodge, another well-respected writer of jazz. The year's remaining two issues feature music articles, written by Lou Harrison (October 1945) and Wilfred Mellers (December 1945), but there is scarcely a mention of jazz in either. (Perhaps it's also worth noting that View printed an advertisement for Ulanov's biography of Duke Ellington in their December 1945 issue.)

Whether Ulanov's departure from View was amicable or not remains a matter of speculation. He is nearly silent about the concert in his future recollections, but years later, he would write that Crum's “curious combination of jazz and the classics never entirely convinced me.”33 Though his own thoughts on the performance are presently unknown, Crum's discouragement at such negative reviews is palpable. By April 1945 he was back in Chicago working at the Hotel Sherman. Billboard writer John Sippel wrote that Crum, now using three mirrors instead of just one, was playing “symphonic jazz interpretations [that are] too intricate for the average hearer. Crum plays half a chorus straight and then goes into a wild malange [sic] of introductions and arpeggios that don't mean much. Crum has affected weird mannerisms and grimaces to accompany his 88-pounding (and the word is used literally), but the old Crum who played at Elmer's two years ago without these new additions was far more preferable.”34 (The following month, Sippel would write that “Crum seems to have found himself and is doing a nice job of selling from the keyboard.”35
 
An advertisement for Soundies. Image from Doctor Macro.
Crum returned to New York in November 1945 to film two Soundies called Adventure in Boogie Woogie and Our Waltz. These were released in April and August the following year.36 But he continued to work in Chicago and around the midwest. In early 1946 he found some work at the Town House in Albany.37 In June 1946 he was working at Chicago's Hotel Continental, where he was reported as going “all out to give his individual impressions of everything, from the classics to boogie-woogie. His playing is average or better, but his salemanship is nil.”38 Later that summer he played for three weeks at the Radisson Hotel in Minneapolis39 and also found work at Circus Snack Bar in St. Louis.40 In mid-September 1946 he recorded six duets with the accomplished drummer Barrett Deems, which were released by the Chicago label Gold Seal.41 Crum appeared on WNEW radio in December 1946 in an organ/piano duo with fellow hotel circuit Bud Taylor (b. 1913, d. 1997)42.


In November 1947, Billboard reported that Crum was “in a hospital for observation”.43 No more details are offered, and no further information on Crum's life is known. To the best of current knowledge, Crum seems to have made no further attempts at a public music career, living a private life and passing away in Joliet, IL in May 1981.44
 
To date, Crum is scarcely even a footnote in jazz history. But while small, the legacy he has left behind is fascinating, and his influence was perhaps not negligible. In addition to the glowing description of their music as “ahead of its time”, Dr. Billy Taylor places Crum alongside Erroll Garner, Bud Powell, and Al Haig as being a notable pianist from the “Prebop and Bebop” style.45 Garner himself was reportedly very impressed by Crum's playing at the Times Hall concert, telling him “You know, I never knew what I wanted to do until I heard you play.”46

The recordings which were made of the Crum/Smith collaboration have entered the digital age thanks to Anthony Barnett's efforts, but Crum's Gold Seal recordings and some solo piano recordings from the Rosenkrantz apartment still remain largely inaccessible

Smith's career continued for twenty more years until his death in 1967. Today he is regarded as one of the most influential jazz violinists, working with some of the most progressive jazz musicians of the 40's, 50's and 60's, playing formally and informally with Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, Don Cherry47, and Sun Ra. He was also a great influence on the contemporary improvising violinists Leroy Jenkins and Billy Bang. From 1965 up to his death in 1967, he led a quartet which featured pianist Kenny Drew and bassist Niels-Henning Ørsted Pederson. A concert in Denmark was held after his death, in which major violinists Stephane Grappelli and Jean-Luc Ponty paid tribute to Smith.48 

The recordings of Smith and Crum's duo improvisations offer glimpses into the private world of jazz, where the creative process was free from the concerns and interests of studios and clubs. The music frolics in and out of tonality, seamlessly transitions from slow and fast sections, and at every moment shows off the masterful creativity of Smith and Crum, as they push their own and each other's technical and musical boundaries.

Footnotes


16 Barnett 1995, 57
17 The Billboard, “Music Grapevine”. July 8th, 1944, p. 19
18 The Billboard, “Chi Jam Session Backer Hopes For Early Frost; Hot Jazz Finds Heat Tough Competish”. August 7th, 1943, p. 15
19 Red Saunders Discography. Accessed January 4th, 2013.
20 For more on Timme Rosenkrantz and his role in 1930's and 40's jazz, see my article about Erroll Garner.
21 Taylor, Billy. “Jazz Piano.” p. 189
22 Rodack, Jaine. “Be Of Good Cheer: Memories of Harmonica Legend Pete Pedersen.” Authorhouse: 2006. p. 56.
23 Ibid.
24 Barnett 1995, 123
25 “View: the Modern Magazine” published between 1940 and 1947. It was managed by Charles Henri Ford (editor) and Parker Tyler (assoc. editor). Each issue featured a different contemporary artist: Georgia O'Keeffe, Marcel Duchamp, and Rene Magritte to name a few.
26 Ford, Charles Henri. “View – Series IV 1944”. Klaus Reprint: New York. 1969. p. 107.
27 Quoted in Barnett 1995, 125-126
28 In doing so, he expresses a view which is prevalent in contemporary discourse of improvised music. For instance, an overview of the International Society for Improvised Music states that “today’s musical world is increasingly characterized by creative expressions that transcend conventional style categories.” Improvisation is, among other things, “spontaneous interaction between musicians from the most disparate backgrounds[.]”
29 “[The New Jazz] sounded rich and full and vital, serene and joyful, beyond my optimum optimism during the weeks of organizing the concert. This was the way they wanted a jazz concert to go, these jazzmen said … The Stuff Smith Trio, and individual artists, Erroll Garner, Pearl Bailey, Don Byas, Robert Crum, were at peak form.” Ulanov, in View, March 1945.
30  Quoted in Barnett 1998, 126
31 Mercure, in Modern Music, vol. 22 no. 2, Jan-Feb 1945, pp. 139-141
32 Barnett 1998, p. 29
33 Barnett 1995, p. 121
34 The Billboard, “Vaudeville Reviews”. April 28th, 1945, p. 30
35 The Billboard, “Night Club Reviews”. May 19th, 1945, p. 30
36 Barnett, 1998, p. 58. Soundies were short films of musical pieces, similar to modern music videos. Music and film were recorded separately, enabling choreography and cinematic techniques. They were shown in jukebox-type machines. The first ones were made in 1940. Soundies had seen a decline in popularity since 1941, and the company would cease production in late 1946. See MacGillivray and Okuna, 2007.
37 The Billboard, “Off the Cuff”. February 9th, 1946, p. 36
38 The Billboard, “Night Club Reviews”. July 6th, 1946, p. 44
39 The Billboard, “Music – As Written”. July 27th, 1946, p. 22
40 The Billboard, “In Short”. September 28th, 1946, p. 38
41 Campbell & Pruter. “Gold Seal” Available at http://hubcap.clemson.edu/~campber/goldseal.html Accessed on 15 July 2012.
42 The Billboard, “WNEW Has Flock Of New Shows To Start After January”. December 21st, 1946, p. 8
43 The Billboard, “Music – As Written”. November 8th, 1947, p. 22
44 Barnett, 2002
45 Taylor, p. 228
46 Rosenkrantz, 178
47 Barnett 1998, 22
48 Barnett 1995, 273-274

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Free Improvisation Series: Robert Crum (part one)


Well, it's been a while since I've posted an update. I've been hard at work, finishing a master's degree, planning various recording projects, and a whole mess of other business. Here's a two-part attempt at a more complete picture of Robert Crum, the mysterious boogie woogie piano player.

Robert Crum (Nov. 29th, 1915 – May 1981) was born in Pittsburgh, PA. He studied classical piano there, as well as in Paris. In the 1930's lived in Chicago, IL where he took lessons from Meade Lux Lewis1 and began playing at small clubs, where he made about $35 a week.2 By January 1943 he was working as the afternoon pianist at Elmer's Cocktail Lounge, where Dorothy Donegan had also recently worked.3

Advertisement for the Hotel Sherman, ca. 1945
In July of that year he was hired to play at the Sherman Hotel's Panther Room for $300 per week.4 The Panther Room, along with the Malaya Room, formed the Hotel's College Inn restaurant, which served extravagant meals served on flaming swords by stereotyped waiters, and featured the day's top entertainment. The College Inn started booking swing music in March 1939; by that same time in 1942 they had booked major acts like Gene Krupa, Benny Goodman, Fats Waller, Harry James, Jimmy Dorsey, and Woody Herman, often for repeat stints.5 As a major focal point in the Chicago music scene, the Sherman Hotel's entertainment was watched closely by the entertainment press. Crum was booked as the Panther Room's afternoon entertainment, and was reviewed often by writers for The Billboard magazine. A typical example is a review which appeared in August 1944, which noted that Crum had “fine keyboard work. It is mostly straight pounding, with little visual showmanship. Crum keeps close to the keyboard, seldom lifting his head to see if anyone is paying attention. Goes over, tho.”6

His playing went over very well, apparently. In September, Crum was given a pay raise to $400 per week.7 In January 1944, the Billboard reported that Crum, perhaps to increase his visual showmanship, was employing a long mirror on several pieces so that members of the audience would be able to see his hands as he played. This prompted Billboard's Carl Cons to comment that although Crum's “finger dexterity is excellent and very commercial … his playing at times leaves music lovers in a fog.” He continued,

Neither a concert artist nor a good swing pianist, his semi-classical style of presenting numbers is often spoiled by corny tricks such as running his thumb across the keys and playing with the back of his hands. Has talent and could improve his performance by adding taste to his arrangements and eliminating some of the gingerbread that passes for showmanship.”8

In November 1943 Crum apparently had plans to move to New York in January 1944, following his stint at the Panther Room,9 but he decided to stay in Chicago for a few more months. In February 1944 he appeared in a variety show at the Chicago Theater, with singer Phil Regan as the headliner. Billed as “The Swing Piano Sensation of the Nation”, Crum was given a favorable review by Jack Baker, who wrote that,

[Crum] shows remarkable skill with his rapid piano keying, and swings out in a fast tempo on the classical and pop tunes. Distinctly different, and draws plenty of mitting with his fine arrangements of Massanet's Elegy, boogie-woogie medleys and Humoresque, which is interspersed with a smart concert arrangement of Rhapsody in Blue.”10

New York City skyline, ca. 1940
Perhaps encouraged by the positive press and high-profile work, Crum made the move to New York City in April 1944.11 In May he appeared on the Basin Street radio program alongside pianists Francis Carter, Arthur Bowie (who played as the duo Carter & Bowie) and Art Tatum.12 In June, Paul Ross mentioned Crum in a long list called The Top Names, “prize winners in the jazz joints of 52d Street”, which included Tatum, Mary Lou Williams, Earl Hines, Duke Ellington, the Nat King Cole Trio, Roy Eldridge, Billie Holiday, Oscar Pettiford, and a host of other major names.

The article, entitled “Disks a Must for 52d Street Click” and subtitled “Musicianship Essential But Waxing Required, Too”, reports that 25-50% of club clientele are tourists, and that “by far the largest part of this group of customers comprises young people who read the hip magazines and who, above all, listen to phonograph records. They are disk educated to a high degree.” Ross concludes that “when they hit New York and are entertainment bound, they are always ready to go and hear – in person – the man or woman who turned out this or that big disk.” He continues by mentioning that another 25% of club clientele are musicians themselves. And nobody is more critical of musicians than other musicians.” This significant sector of club clientele, Ross says, helps keep novelty artists, “the trickster [and] the corn-dispenser” from dominating the bandstands.
One would not be amiss to question Ross' figures (did he conduct a survey?), but his overall point is rather plausible. Therefore it's rather puzzling that Crum would be included as a “Top Name”. He had only lived in New York City for two months at the time, had no recordings to his name, and did not have any work as a sideman. And less than a year prior, Crum had been criticized in the same magazine for his “gingerbread” showmanship. Ross adds that “an act without even one big record behind it can work in the jazz bistros and do all right, providing it has musicianship. If the turn gets by the other musicians it can build in anywhere from six months to a year – build to the point where it begins making disks and thus enhances its [box office] value. But the old musicianship must be there or no dice.”13

Ross' article appeared shortly before RCA/Victor and Columbia had conceded to the demands of the American Federation of Musicians, which was still on strike.14 There was also a major shortage of domestic shellac, imposed by the War Production Board, causing a drop in disk production.15 It was a time of great upheaval and change in the recording business, and breaking into the recording medium was likely to prove difficult for a relative newcomer like Crum.

A typical logo for The Billboard magazine
As a side note, it's worth remembering that the entertainment press's goal (in 1944, but it's not much better today) was not to document the change of musical styles and the artistic growth of its individual practitioners. This is just a historical side-effect. As a trade periodical, the Billboard's goal was to keep booking agents, business owners, and advertisers apprised of the goings-on in the major entertainment centers. The artistic goals of musicians were of far lesser concern to critics than was the musicians' level of business acumen. But we should not make the mistake of thinking that the musicians written about in these magazines were as single-minded as the articles may portray them. We take for granted that Fats Waller, Gene Krupa, Woody Herman and all of the acts booked at the Sherman Hotel were not just major entertainers but also major artists. There is no inherent inconsistency here, but we must avoid the temptation to think that more marginal musicians simply lacked this vision, and are therefore not worthy of study or consideration. The activities that make Crum especially notable today are coming up in part 2 of this blog post.


Footnotes

1 Barnett, 2002, "Complete 1944 Rosenkrantz Apartment Transcription Duets", ABFable CD 004/005.
2 The Billboard, “Shelley Signs Bob Crum, Chi Pianist”. August 21st, 1943, p. 24
3 The Billboard, “Off the Cuff”. January 30th, 1943, p. 19
4 The Billboard, “Open Field For Graduates”. July 17th, 1943, p. 20
5 The Billboard, “Chi's Sherman Room Still Swings It”, March 28th, 1942, p. 6
6 The Billboard, “Follow-Up Night Club Review”. August 28th, 1943, p. 21
7 The Billboard, “Ivory Pounders in Chips”. October 2nd, 1943, p. 24
8 The Billboard, “Night Club Reviews”. January 22nd, 1944, p. 25
9 The Billboard, “Off the Cuff”. November 6th, 1943, p. 23
10 The Billboard, “Vaudeville Reviews”. February 26th, 1944, p. 22
11 The Billboard, “Chicago Air Execs Scouting Lounges for Talent 'Finds'”. April 15th, 1944, p. 20
12 The Billboard, “Top Radio Stanzas Finding Place for Small-Club Acts”. May 27th, 1944, p. 28
13 The Billboard, “Disks a Must for 52d Street Click”. June 24th, 1944, pp. 23 & 27
14 The AFM had been on a no-recording strike since August 1st, 1942 with the demand that recording labels pay a fee to license recordings for radio and jukebox play. This fee would be added to the AFM's Recording and Transcription Fund (RTF), which the AFM would use to offer work to underemployed musicians. Most smaller labels had capitulated by this time, but RCA/Victor and Columbia, the two largest, would not do so until November 1944.
15 See, for example, “Diskers Eye WPB Action”, (Billboard 6/27/42, p. 70) and “Financial Journal Features News Of Shellac Situation and Prices”, (Billboard, 10/31/42, p. 62)