Going Beyond? Will that be by stair or rail, sir/ma'am?
Life's Railway to Heaven dates back to 1891, and it was a huge hit for many decades before joining the ranks of "good old" gospel songs. Somewhere, I have a sheet music image for the tune, but I'm sure you'll take my word for the fact that it was published in thousands of song books. The hymn was written by M.E. Abbey; the tune, by Charles D. Tillman, who edited a couple of songbooks in my collection. So nice of him to do that for me.
Train travel, needless to say, is one of the more popular spiritual-journey metaphors in gospel music, though it can't compete with sea travel. Maybe that's because the wordplay possibilities are relatively limited--twists and turns; handing your ticket to the conductor; keeping a steady course. As compared to stormy seas; gospel waves; reaching the shore; sending/following the light; heading for the lighthouse; "waiting the Boatman;" being encircled by gloom; grabbing for the life-line; sailing home; etc., etc. No contest.
The version we're about to hear was recorded in 1968, at which point the song had been enjoying "good old" status for nearly forty years.
Life's Railway to Heaven (Abbey-Tillman), J.D. Jarvis and Rusty York, 1968.
But, sometimes, you just gotta walk. Then you take the stairs (sorry, Lady Domi). And so we have Stairway to Heaven, as performed by the Bluegrass Gospel Travelers. And I'm laughing to myself because you think you're going to hear a gospel version of the Zepp song, but it's actually....
Oops. Dang it. Ruined that one.
Stairway to Heaven (Bill Grant), The Bluegrass Gospel Travelers, probably early 1970s. From an LP.
That song was first recorded by Ralph Stanley in 1971, the same year that Zepp came up with their version of the title. One STH became a massive hit, and the other was forgotten fast. I can't remember which.
Lee
Saturday, May 27, 2006
American Salute
Morton Gould's 1943 American Salute was written for a radio broadcast--and, according to the All Music Guide, ovenight. It stands out in its cluttered field because it's so extraordinarily effective--otherwise, it's one in a zillion. Anyone who digs through old sheet music has encountered enough varitaions on/odes to Yankee Doodle; America; Hail, Columbia; and Star-Spangled Banner to fill the memory banks of a hundred collectors. By 1943, a rhapsody on Louis Lambert's 1863 When Johnny Comes Marching Home was more of a cliche than "Let's put on a show!" But who cares? It hits the mark, and then some.
The magnificent Civil War march in question originated as the Irish ballad Johnny, We Hardly Knew Ye, a denunciation of war so bitter as to make Where Have All the Flowers Gone sound like Wouldn't It Be Loverly.
Louis Moreau Gottschalk, who wrote louder and flashier patrotic "Pops" pieces in the 19th century, might have advised Gould to add a piano. Or two, or three. At least four.
American Salute (Morton Gould), National Symphony Orchestra. From RCA Victor LP set.
Played as it should be played--with the orchestra blowing the roof off the studio. Take that, Boston Pops!
Lee
The magnificent Civil War march in question originated as the Irish ballad Johnny, We Hardly Knew Ye, a denunciation of war so bitter as to make Where Have All the Flowers Gone sound like Wouldn't It Be Loverly.
Louis Moreau Gottschalk, who wrote louder and flashier patrotic "Pops" pieces in the 19th century, might have advised Gould to add a piano. Or two, or three. At least four.
American Salute (Morton Gould), National Symphony Orchestra. From RCA Victor LP set.
Played as it should be played--with the orchestra blowing the roof off the studio. Take that, Boston Pops!
Lee
Friday, May 26, 2006
Mae West-Criswell Moon Flight
(This is part of a post from September, 2005. Best sci-fi pulp cover ever):
...I found my 1955 Criswell/Mae West Spaceway cover. What in heck am I talking about? I'm talking about:
"Hi, Mom! Doesn't Mae look smashing in her form-fitting, smartly-tailored space suit?"
The cover painting depicts Criswell, the famous Ed Wood, Jr. psychic, standing next to President Mae West on the Moon in the year 1965. As we all know, women took over the United States in 1960, Miss Mae West winning by a landslide. Women were tired of male rule, plus they were annoyed at men for their lack of interest in space travel. It took a woman--namely, Mae West--to push for Moon exploration. And it took President West, in a "form-fitting, smartly-tailored space suit," to lead expedition American Lunar I to the surface of said satellite on a thousand-foot-long rocket, Criswell at her side. The crew found no life on the Moon--just "traces of a very strange vegetation." (Er, isn't vegetation life?) The trip, nonetheless, was very important: "If we of the 20th century have done nothing more than to open the Gateway to the Moon, we have done much!" As we all remember, the Moon became the 51st state.
How did Criswell know about these things in 1955? As he explains in the opening paragraph of his piece, "These words are being written in 1965, for we have projected ourselves into the future. Look at the calendar on your wall, and you will see that you have suddenly advanced ten years into tomorrow, in Outer Space, for that is what the future is!" Any questions? I think that's pretty straightforward.
I never asked my parents whether or not they voted for Mae. And I can't remember. I was only three.
Lee
...I found my 1955 Criswell/Mae West Spaceway cover. What in heck am I talking about? I'm talking about:
"Hi, Mom! Doesn't Mae look smashing in her form-fitting, smartly-tailored space suit?"
The cover painting depicts Criswell, the famous Ed Wood, Jr. psychic, standing next to President Mae West on the Moon in the year 1965. As we all know, women took over the United States in 1960, Miss Mae West winning by a landslide. Women were tired of male rule, plus they were annoyed at men for their lack of interest in space travel. It took a woman--namely, Mae West--to push for Moon exploration. And it took President West, in a "form-fitting, smartly-tailored space suit," to lead expedition American Lunar I to the surface of said satellite on a thousand-foot-long rocket, Criswell at her side. The crew found no life on the Moon--just "traces of a very strange vegetation." (Er, isn't vegetation life?) The trip, nonetheless, was very important: "If we of the 20th century have done nothing more than to open the Gateway to the Moon, we have done much!" As we all remember, the Moon became the 51st state.
How did Criswell know about these things in 1955? As he explains in the opening paragraph of his piece, "These words are being written in 1965, for we have projected ourselves into the future. Look at the calendar on your wall, and you will see that you have suddenly advanced ten years into tomorrow, in Outer Space, for that is what the future is!" Any questions? I think that's pretty straightforward.
I never asked my parents whether or not they voted for Mae. And I can't remember. I was only three.
Lee
The Roots of Country, Part 2--Keep on the Sunny Side
(This is a rerun of an August 1, 2005 post):
They're perhaps the most famous opening lines in country music history: "There's a dark and a troubled side of life; There's a bright and a sunny side, too. Tho' we meet with the darkness and strife, The sunny side we also may view." Keep on the Sunny Side was the theme song of "Country Music's First Family," aka the Carter Family. And Ada Blenkhorn is deservedly famous for her 1899 lyrics, which are so beloved by so many. I reckon there are probably any number of Ada Blenkhorn sites out there.
Ahhh... yeah. In reality, of course, Ada's lyrics were long ago credited to A.P. Carter, who swiped all three stanzas and who receives credit for Sunny Side in the liner notes for O Brother, Where Art Thou? and at the A Prairie Home Companion website, and just about everywhere else. Which is worse, I wonder? Writing world-famous words and having your name forgotten, or writing world-famous words and having them stolen from you? Tough call.
Anyway, the 1903 Biglow & Main songbook Devotional Songs got the details right, crediting the words to Ada and the music to J. Howard Entwisle. At the bottom of the page are details lost to the ages, including the year of copyright and the words "Used by permission." At this point in the song's history, they seem like artifacts from some forgotten dimension.
"Sunny side" songs were a common item in the 1890s, as suggested by the existence of an earlier Keep on the Sunny Side (1896) by George C. Stebbins: "Keep on the sunny side, Keep on the sunny side. With Jesus near, Why should we fear? Let us keep on the sunny side." And by the appearance in 1899 of The Sunny Side of the Road, whose chorus begins (you'll never guess), "Keep on the sunny side...." None of the tunes in question sound remotely alike, but you get the point.
And, as we've already seen, sun-themed songs remained popular into the late 1920s. So, how did A.P. Carter, in 1928, get away with swiping the words and melody of a popular sun song?
I suspect it's because, by the 1920s, Sunday-school songs like Keep on the Sunny Side of Life were becoming less and less a part of middle-class life--less of an accepted one, anyway. Average folks didn't stop singing these songs, by any means, but, more and more, gospel tunes and revival meetings came to be associated with "the people" (i.e. the underclass), with the South, with the "folk." Thus, we have today's mass-media myth that revival songs were unknown to the middle class, that class being too busy with bourgeois things like tea parties and chamber music concerts to have time for Send the Light. Who would have guessed that some of our most down-home songs were, in fact, the Ozzie and Harriet culture of their time?
Anyway, here's the superb Johnson Family Singers with a comparatively upbeat rendition of Sunny Side (compared, that is, to the almost funeral-dirge treatment the Carters gave it).
Keep on the Sunny Side, The Johnson Family Singers.
Please save, rather than open, files for best results. Thanks!
A.P. Carter
They're perhaps the most famous opening lines in country music history: "There's a dark and a troubled side of life; There's a bright and a sunny side, too. Tho' we meet with the darkness and strife, The sunny side we also may view." Keep on the Sunny Side was the theme song of "Country Music's First Family," aka the Carter Family. And Ada Blenkhorn is deservedly famous for her 1899 lyrics, which are so beloved by so many. I reckon there are probably any number of Ada Blenkhorn sites out there.
Ahhh... yeah. In reality, of course, Ada's lyrics were long ago credited to A.P. Carter, who swiped all three stanzas and who receives credit for Sunny Side in the liner notes for O Brother, Where Art Thou? and at the A Prairie Home Companion website, and just about everywhere else. Which is worse, I wonder? Writing world-famous words and having your name forgotten, or writing world-famous words and having them stolen from you? Tough call.
Anyway, the 1903 Biglow & Main songbook Devotional Songs got the details right, crediting the words to Ada and the music to J. Howard Entwisle. At the bottom of the page are details lost to the ages, including the year of copyright and the words "Used by permission." At this point in the song's history, they seem like artifacts from some forgotten dimension.
"Sunny side" songs were a common item in the 1890s, as suggested by the existence of an earlier Keep on the Sunny Side (1896) by George C. Stebbins: "Keep on the sunny side, Keep on the sunny side. With Jesus near, Why should we fear? Let us keep on the sunny side." And by the appearance in 1899 of The Sunny Side of the Road, whose chorus begins (you'll never guess), "Keep on the sunny side...." None of the tunes in question sound remotely alike, but you get the point.
And, as we've already seen, sun-themed songs remained popular into the late 1920s. So, how did A.P. Carter, in 1928, get away with swiping the words and melody of a popular sun song?
I suspect it's because, by the 1920s, Sunday-school songs like Keep on the Sunny Side of Life were becoming less and less a part of middle-class life--less of an accepted one, anyway. Average folks didn't stop singing these songs, by any means, but, more and more, gospel tunes and revival meetings came to be associated with "the people" (i.e. the underclass), with the South, with the "folk." Thus, we have today's mass-media myth that revival songs were unknown to the middle class, that class being too busy with bourgeois things like tea parties and chamber music concerts to have time for Send the Light. Who would have guessed that some of our most down-home songs were, in fact, the Ozzie and Harriet culture of their time?
Anyway, here's the superb Johnson Family Singers with a comparatively upbeat rendition of Sunny Side (compared, that is, to the almost funeral-dirge treatment the Carters gave it).
Keep on the Sunny Side, The Johnson Family Singers.
Please save, rather than open, files for best results. Thanks!
A.P. Carter
Come On-a My Blog
Come On-a My House (Ross Bagdasarian-William Saroyan), Rosemary Clooney with Stan Freeman, harpsichord. 1951. From Columbia LP.
Stairway to My House, Lee Hartsfeld/Noteworthy Composer, 2006. From Dell soundcard.
Come On-a My House, Mickey Katz, 1951. From Capitol LP.
Lee
Stairway to My House, Lee Hartsfeld/Noteworthy Composer, 2006. From Dell soundcard.
Come On-a My House, Mickey Katz, 1951. From Capitol LP.
Lee
Thursday, May 25, 2006
"Haunted Heart," Perry Jolson, and more!
We're back with Part 3 of the Perry-Como-thon--but, first, thanks for all the cool Birthday greetings! They are very appreciated. Wish I felt cool, but my stomach bug is hanging on. However, things are improving--I ate a complete supper tonight, for instance, and I don't feel too awful afterwards. Just slightly.
My sister reports that the flu is going around where she works (an office in the nearest big city)--one coworker had it for a week. Oh, fine. This is my fourth day, I think.
Ugh.
The perfect time for the soothing tonsils of Pierino Como (that doesn't sound right, somehow), beginning with Haunted Heart, which I (obviously) now have a copy of. I had never heard this 1947 track before, being that it was never reissued until recently--though you'd think I'd have run into the original 78 at some point. Who knows. I can't remember, at this point, what I've had and what I haven't had, disc-wise. Such is the fate of a hoarder:
Haunted Heart (Schwartz, Dietz) , with Russ Case and His Orchestra, 1947.
And here are two sides by Perry Jolson--I mean, Al Como. Er, I mean....
Not only did Como, in 1936, sound a lot like Al Jolson, he had a rather throaty sound--the two sort of went together, I guess. I suspect, however, that the gargly effect in/on the second track is the fault of the sound restoration. I'm not the one who did the transfer, so....
You Can't Pull the Wool Over My Eyes (Ager, Newman, Mencher), with Ted Weems and His Orchestra, 1936.
Until Today (Davis, Coots, Levant) , with Ted Weems Orch., 1936.
"Davis, Coots, Levant"?? I'm betting Benny Davis, J. Fred Coots, and Oscar Levant. Let's see if I'm right. (Segue music, while I Google the info)
Yup! I was correct. Coots, of course, also gave us Santa Claus Is Coming to Town, Love Letters in the Sand, and You Go to My Head. Levant, of course, was a friend of George Gershwin (and a better pianist, in this blogger's opinion) and one of the best interpreters of his work. A web site tells me that Until Today was one of the few songs written by Oscar. Hm. Benny Davis, I know from 1920s dance band record labels.
Wow.
Okay, we continue with two early-1940s radio performances by Perry (formerly Al) Como. I have no idea who the orchestra is, here. Or the man responsible for the great five-bar sax solo on Blue Skies:
Blue Skies (Berlin), From early 1940s radio broadcast.
Don't Blame Me, From early 1940s radio broadcast.
Oops--and one more Ted Weems/Como performance:
Deep in the Heart of Texas (Swander, Hershey), with Ted Weems and His Orch., 1941.
Yup, recorded in 1941. To be precise, on December 9, 1941. Yikes.
We jump ahead to 1950 for another Como/Hutton duet:
A Bushel and a Peck (Loesser), with Betty Hutton and Mitchell Ayres and His Orch., 1950.
...and for another Benny Davis number:
Patricia (Benny Davis), with Mitchell Ayres and His Orch., 1950.
And we close with three from 1949 (1900, plus my age. Coincidence?? Yes. Of course):
Forever and Ever (Winkler, Ross) , with Mitch Ayres Orch., 1949.
A Dreamer's Holiday (Wayne, Gannon), with Mitch Ayres Orch. and the Fontane Sisters, 1949.
Bali Ha'i (Rodgers-Hammerstein II), with Mitch Ayres Orch., 1949.
Your blogger's not feeling so swell. Time to post this and take a nap, maybe.
Flu sucks....
Lee
My sister reports that the flu is going around where she works (an office in the nearest big city)--one coworker had it for a week. Oh, fine. This is my fourth day, I think.
Ugh.
The perfect time for the soothing tonsils of Pierino Como (that doesn't sound right, somehow), beginning with Haunted Heart, which I (obviously) now have a copy of. I had never heard this 1947 track before, being that it was never reissued until recently--though you'd think I'd have run into the original 78 at some point. Who knows. I can't remember, at this point, what I've had and what I haven't had, disc-wise. Such is the fate of a hoarder:
Haunted Heart (Schwartz, Dietz) , with Russ Case and His Orchestra, 1947.
And here are two sides by Perry Jolson--I mean, Al Como. Er, I mean....
Not only did Como, in 1936, sound a lot like Al Jolson, he had a rather throaty sound--the two sort of went together, I guess. I suspect, however, that the gargly effect in/on the second track is the fault of the sound restoration. I'm not the one who did the transfer, so....
You Can't Pull the Wool Over My Eyes (Ager, Newman, Mencher), with Ted Weems and His Orchestra, 1936.
Until Today (Davis, Coots, Levant) , with Ted Weems Orch., 1936.
"Davis, Coots, Levant"?? I'm betting Benny Davis, J. Fred Coots, and Oscar Levant. Let's see if I'm right. (Segue music, while I Google the info)
Yup! I was correct. Coots, of course, also gave us Santa Claus Is Coming to Town, Love Letters in the Sand, and You Go to My Head. Levant, of course, was a friend of George Gershwin (and a better pianist, in this blogger's opinion) and one of the best interpreters of his work. A web site tells me that Until Today was one of the few songs written by Oscar. Hm. Benny Davis, I know from 1920s dance band record labels.
Wow.
Okay, we continue with two early-1940s radio performances by Perry (formerly Al) Como. I have no idea who the orchestra is, here. Or the man responsible for the great five-bar sax solo on Blue Skies:
Blue Skies (Berlin), From early 1940s radio broadcast.
Don't Blame Me, From early 1940s radio broadcast.
Oops--and one more Ted Weems/Como performance:
Deep in the Heart of Texas (Swander, Hershey), with Ted Weems and His Orch., 1941.
Yup, recorded in 1941. To be precise, on December 9, 1941. Yikes.
We jump ahead to 1950 for another Como/Hutton duet:
A Bushel and a Peck (Loesser), with Betty Hutton and Mitchell Ayres and His Orch., 1950.
...and for another Benny Davis number:
Patricia (Benny Davis), with Mitchell Ayres and His Orch., 1950.
And we close with three from 1949 (1900, plus my age. Coincidence?? Yes. Of course):
Forever and Ever (Winkler, Ross) , with Mitch Ayres Orch., 1949.
A Dreamer's Holiday (Wayne, Gannon), with Mitch Ayres Orch. and the Fontane Sisters, 1949.
Bali Ha'i (Rodgers-Hammerstein II), with Mitch Ayres Orch., 1949.
Your blogger's not feeling so swell. Time to post this and take a nap, maybe.
Flu sucks....
Lee
Lay, Skilling
Awwww. Kenneth Lay and Jeffrey Skilling have been found guilty:
http://67.15.218.211/public/ntsgrg22qy
Ruins my day, it does. I'll bet a lot of people are upset about this. At least two.
Lee
http://67.15.218.211/public/ntsgrg22qy
Ruins my day, it does. I'll bet a lot of people are upset about this. At least two.
Lee
Betty Hutton--cute?
LoRezSky commented that Betty Hutton sounds cute. And she was, in this blogger's opinion. I swiped this from Google Images:
She seems to have been the model for Carol Burnett, in that she did her utmost to appear awkward and unattractive, when she was demonstrably neither--in half of her photos, she has a horrified sort of "Where am I?" look, which Carol seems to have borrowed as her own. (I wonder if Betty did the inept-flirtation shtick, too?) The good-looking-woman-pretending-to-not-be-good-looking routine was probably a music hall/vaudeville staple, roughly akin to the good-musician-pretending-not-to-be-able-to-play bit perfected by Jack Benny. Ironically, such staples of low comedy require a lot of skill to pull off effectively. I have no idea why, but it seems to be the case. (I don't make the rules, I just note them.)
Meanwhile, your blogger is getting over the stomach flu--finally. Three days of this agony, and I actually feel hungry. And my head feels fairly clear. For about a day, I had a sinus headache that even Darvocet couldn't cut.
But I'm feeling lots better. Maybe I can resume blogging in earnest....
Lee
She seems to have been the model for Carol Burnett, in that she did her utmost to appear awkward and unattractive, when she was demonstrably neither--in half of her photos, she has a horrified sort of "Where am I?" look, which Carol seems to have borrowed as her own. (I wonder if Betty did the inept-flirtation shtick, too?) The good-looking-woman-pretending-to-not-be-good-looking routine was probably a music hall/vaudeville staple, roughly akin to the good-musician-pretending-not-to-be-able-to-play bit perfected by Jack Benny. Ironically, such staples of low comedy require a lot of skill to pull off effectively. I have no idea why, but it seems to be the case. (I don't make the rules, I just note them.)
Meanwhile, your blogger is getting over the stomach flu--finally. Three days of this agony, and I actually feel hungry. And my head feels fairly clear. For about a day, I had a sinus headache that even Darvocet couldn't cut.
But I'm feeling lots better. Maybe I can resume blogging in earnest....
Lee
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Stairway Through Time
Here's my latest take on that... that tune. The one by Ledd Zeppelin.
I mean, Led Zeppelin. Whatever. During my last year at BGSU, a Sociology professor claimed that people in my (then) age group "like Zepp." He said, "People over 25 like Zepp." I was really impressed. What wisdom. I mean, we all know that every single member of any given age group likes the same things.
This was 1989, and the prof was p.o.'d because the current younger generation didn't dig the music he found so very important (Dylan, "Zepp," Cream, and so on). I won't say who this guy was, but he's the author of some famous books, all of which treat rock as protest music. One of his titles was mentioned on TV either during the Grammys or an MTV awards show--one or the other. He mentioned this several times during the semester. Of course, the rock-as-protest-music myth is alive and well in the 21st century. Personally, some of my favorite protest songs are Yellow Submarine, Stairway to Heaven, Lola, Summertime Blues (Blue Cheer's version), Surfin' Bird, and Smokin' in the Boys' Room. They contain tons of social commentary.
Anyway, I wrote this on Noteworthy Composer, which a software-review site deems hard to use. Really? I find it very easy to use. So there. Then again, I'm used to notating with paper and a felt tip pen. The sound is from my Dell's sound card, but considerably doctored by MAGIX:
Stairway Through Time, Lee Hartsfeld, 2006.
Dark Shadows featured a Stairway Through Time, come to think of it. Quentin Collins (the 1840 Quentin) invented same. The writers were running out of excuses to send people between eras, so they came up with a stairway. Just an ordinary stairway that somehow allowed people to climb up to (or down from) time. The device first showed up in 1995, twenty-five years after Collinwood had been destroyed by zombies led by the ghost of Gerard Stiles.
The show was near the end of its run. The plot was getting very end-of-the-run, too, as you probably noticed.
Lee
I mean, Led Zeppelin. Whatever. During my last year at BGSU, a Sociology professor claimed that people in my (then) age group "like Zepp." He said, "People over 25 like Zepp." I was really impressed. What wisdom. I mean, we all know that every single member of any given age group likes the same things.
This was 1989, and the prof was p.o.'d because the current younger generation didn't dig the music he found so very important (Dylan, "Zepp," Cream, and so on). I won't say who this guy was, but he's the author of some famous books, all of which treat rock as protest music. One of his titles was mentioned on TV either during the Grammys or an MTV awards show--one or the other. He mentioned this several times during the semester. Of course, the rock-as-protest-music myth is alive and well in the 21st century. Personally, some of my favorite protest songs are Yellow Submarine, Stairway to Heaven, Lola, Summertime Blues (Blue Cheer's version), Surfin' Bird, and Smokin' in the Boys' Room. They contain tons of social commentary.
Anyway, I wrote this on Noteworthy Composer, which a software-review site deems hard to use. Really? I find it very easy to use. So there. Then again, I'm used to notating with paper and a felt tip pen. The sound is from my Dell's sound card, but considerably doctored by MAGIX:
Stairway Through Time, Lee Hartsfeld, 2006.
Dark Shadows featured a Stairway Through Time, come to think of it. Quentin Collins (the 1840 Quentin) invented same. The writers were running out of excuses to send people between eras, so they came up with a stairway. Just an ordinary stairway that somehow allowed people to climb up to (or down from) time. The device first showed up in 1995, twenty-five years after Collinwood had been destroyed by zombies led by the ghost of Gerard Stiles.
The show was near the end of its run. The plot was getting very end-of-the-run, too, as you probably noticed.
Lee
Monday, May 22, 2006
The distinguished musical creations of Leehan Sebastian Bachsfeld
LEEHAN S. BACHSFELD, 1957-
"I am Leehan Sebastian Bachsfeld"--Leehan S. Bachsfeld, 2006.
Some of Leehan's keyboard compositions, nearly all of them played through a Korg Poly-800, Casio keyboard, or Dell soundcard after having been entered onto Performer or Noteworthy Composer music software.
The Godzilla Rag (Hartsfeld), 1993. Played through Casio keyboard.
The Joys of Summer in Ohio (Hartsfeld), 1995. Played on church piano.
The Dissonant Rag (Hartsfeld), 2000. Played through Casio keyboard.
Godzilla Dresses Up for Halloween, 2005. Played through Dell soundcard.
Piece for Fake Orchestra and Sampled Piano, 1995. Played through Casio keyboard.
Stairway to Counterpoint, 2006. Dell soundcard.
Stairway to Counterpoint (Slightly Revised), 2006. Dell soundcard.
SF Sketches (In Four Parts), 1988. Played through Korg Poly-800 synthesizer.
This, we hope, is not how saucers would behave in real life.
Stairway to Laredo, 2006. Dell soundcard.
UFO Abduction Fugue, 1992. Casio.
Video Arcade Lost in Tunnel, 1992. Casio.
The Party Animal Rag, 1996. Casio.
Pointless Technical Exercise, 1993. Korg Poly-800.
Birdcall Invention, 2006. Dell soundcard.
Daisy Train, 2006. Dell soundcard.
Lots O' Cats Rag, 1998. Casio.
The Belly-Dancing Rag, 1998. Casio.
The Cable-Ready Rag, 1998. Casio.
Easter Chimes, 2006. Dell soundcard.
Friday the Thirteenth, 2006. Casio (recorded with portable cassette recorder).
Godzilla on Broadway, 1995. Casio.
The original, week-old Stairway to Counterpoint manuscript.
Enjoy!
Lee(han)
"I am Leehan Sebastian Bachsfeld"--Leehan S. Bachsfeld, 2006.
Some of Leehan's keyboard compositions, nearly all of them played through a Korg Poly-800, Casio keyboard, or Dell soundcard after having been entered onto Performer or Noteworthy Composer music software.
The Godzilla Rag (Hartsfeld), 1993. Played through Casio keyboard.
The Joys of Summer in Ohio (Hartsfeld), 1995. Played on church piano.
The Dissonant Rag (Hartsfeld), 2000. Played through Casio keyboard.
Godzilla Dresses Up for Halloween, 2005. Played through Dell soundcard.
Piece for Fake Orchestra and Sampled Piano, 1995. Played through Casio keyboard.
Stairway to Counterpoint, 2006. Dell soundcard.
Stairway to Counterpoint (Slightly Revised), 2006. Dell soundcard.
SF Sketches (In Four Parts), 1988. Played through Korg Poly-800 synthesizer.
This, we hope, is not how saucers would behave in real life.
Stairway to Laredo, 2006. Dell soundcard.
UFO Abduction Fugue, 1992. Casio.
Video Arcade Lost in Tunnel, 1992. Casio.
The Party Animal Rag, 1996. Casio.
Pointless Technical Exercise, 1993. Korg Poly-800.
Birdcall Invention, 2006. Dell soundcard.
Daisy Train, 2006. Dell soundcard.
Lots O' Cats Rag, 1998. Casio.
The Belly-Dancing Rag, 1998. Casio.
The Cable-Ready Rag, 1998. Casio.
Easter Chimes, 2006. Dell soundcard.
Friday the Thirteenth, 2006. Casio (recorded with portable cassette recorder).
Godzilla on Broadway, 1995. Casio.
The original, week-old Stairway to Counterpoint manuscript.
Enjoy!
Lee(han)
The comedy trio of Lee, Myself, and I
I've posted a few of these before, but most are new to the Blog cosmos. The bits are anywhere from five to fifteen years old; I wrote and performed them for cassette tapes I sent to my Navy buddy, Lewis, who lives in Texas. A few years ago, I decided I should save the better bits, and so I've been doing that. MAGIX editing has allowed fades, reverb, and other effects not available to me then. My studio consisted of two cassette decks, a microphone mixer, and the living room of my apartment, upon whose carpet the scripts (and mixer) laid. Everything was written out--very little improvising takes place in these routines, save for when I couldn't read my writing.
You'll hear some multi-voice bits--these, I accomplished by going back and forth between my two decks. Two bits stand out as ahead-of-their-time pieces, imo: People Who Want Money and Murder. Maybe I should sue the folks behind Millionaire and/or all the crime-scene-investigation-type shows. Real, Genuine, True-Blue, Authentic Roots Music was inspired by an NPR piece that credited Earl Scruggs with inventing bluegrass banjo. Right. I guess that all of the bluegrass banjo that preceded Earl Scruggs was planted by the Musical Satan in order to test our faith, or something like that. Fake geological clues/fake audio clues--all part of the same evil plot.
And now for the comedy magic of Lee, Myself, and I:
Information Magazine
Great Dialogue from the Movies
Extremely Brief Tales of the Old West
Commercials (Laundry detergent, coffee)
People Who Want Money
One-Liner Therapy
Real, Genuine, True-Blue, Authentic Roots Music
Spiritual Reflections
Tales of the Unexpected
The Adventures of Self-Help Man
Tales of a Paranormal Nature: Revenge of the Creature
The Grant Seldstocker Show
Corporate Man, Part One
Corporate Man, Part Two
The Inane Ministry of Virgil T. Lunarorbit
The Inept Invaders from the Planet Duhhh
The Y2K Bugs
Murder
You'll hear some multi-voice bits--these, I accomplished by going back and forth between my two decks. Two bits stand out as ahead-of-their-time pieces, imo: People Who Want Money and Murder. Maybe I should sue the folks behind Millionaire and/or all the crime-scene-investigation-type shows. Real, Genuine, True-Blue, Authentic Roots Music was inspired by an NPR piece that credited Earl Scruggs with inventing bluegrass banjo. Right. I guess that all of the bluegrass banjo that preceded Earl Scruggs was planted by the Musical Satan in order to test our faith, or something like that. Fake geological clues/fake audio clues--all part of the same evil plot.
And now for the comedy magic of Lee, Myself, and I:
Information Magazine
Great Dialogue from the Movies
Extremely Brief Tales of the Old West
Commercials (Laundry detergent, coffee)
People Who Want Money
One-Liner Therapy
Real, Genuine, True-Blue, Authentic Roots Music
Spiritual Reflections
Tales of the Unexpected
The Adventures of Self-Help Man
Tales of a Paranormal Nature: Revenge of the Creature
The Grant Seldstocker Show
Corporate Man, Part One
Corporate Man, Part Two
The Inane Ministry of Virgil T. Lunarorbit
The Inept Invaders from the Planet Duhhh
The Y2K Bugs
Murder
Happy Birthday to Meeee!
Hey, if "Birthday" rates a capital B, then "Me" rates a capital M. It's only fair.
Learned sorts will debate this issue for decades to come, I'm not sure. I mean, I'm sure.
Speaking of decades, with this Birthday, I've entered the last year of my fifth decade. "But, Lee," you say, "You don't look 59!" Well, of course not. I'm only 49.
I like this photo (rendered "coloring book" courtesy of Kodak's "fun effects" option), even though I look slightly glum in it, because it proves that my chin is not nearly the size it looks to be in most digital photos. In fact, my chin isn't big at all. The camera doesn't lie. (Er--wait a minute.)
Therein lies the problem with trying to prove, via a given medium, that that medium is lying. Interesting dilemma, no?
Anyway, being 49 means being in the last year of one's fifth decade. How so? Simple. Our first decade is 0-9. Our second decade spans ages 10-19. Out third, 20-29. Fourth, 30-39. Fifth, 40-49. And so on. Until we croak.
Therefore, I am starting the last year of my fifth (not fourth) decade. Of course, it sounds wrong, but what sounds wrong isn't necessarily wrong. And what sounds right.... Well, I think you know what I'm getting at. I don't, but I thought maybe you did.
So, I'm 59. I mean, 49. A year from now, I'll be 50. That is, I'll be starting my sixth decade. But I won't be 60.
Post-wise, this will be an all-Lee day. We'll start with comedy routines by I. I mean, me.
Coming up next.
Lee
Learned sorts will debate this issue for decades to come, I'm not sure. I mean, I'm sure.
Speaking of decades, with this Birthday, I've entered the last year of my fifth decade. "But, Lee," you say, "You don't look 59!" Well, of course not. I'm only 49.
I like this photo (rendered "coloring book" courtesy of Kodak's "fun effects" option), even though I look slightly glum in it, because it proves that my chin is not nearly the size it looks to be in most digital photos. In fact, my chin isn't big at all. The camera doesn't lie. (Er--wait a minute.)
Therein lies the problem with trying to prove, via a given medium, that that medium is lying. Interesting dilemma, no?
Anyway, being 49 means being in the last year of one's fifth decade. How so? Simple. Our first decade is 0-9. Our second decade spans ages 10-19. Out third, 20-29. Fourth, 30-39. Fifth, 40-49. And so on. Until we croak.
Therefore, I am starting the last year of my fifth (not fourth) decade. Of course, it sounds wrong, but what sounds wrong isn't necessarily wrong. And what sounds right.... Well, I think you know what I'm getting at. I don't, but I thought maybe you did.
So, I'm 59. I mean, 49. A year from now, I'll be 50. That is, I'll be starting my sixth decade. But I won't be 60.
Post-wise, this will be an all-Lee day. We'll start with comedy routines by I. I mean, me.
Coming up next.
Lee
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Wake up to Betty, Perry, Tony, Harry, and Buddy!
Betty Hutton, Perry Como, Tony Bennett, Harry James, and Buddy Rich, that is.
We start with Betty and Perry, who make a great duet.
She's a Lady (Cy Coben), Perry Como and Betty Hutton with Mitch Ayres Orch., 1950. From RCA Victor 45.
And we continue with two solo Huttons--the first, a novelty in that typical postwar-era cross between ragtime and early jazz; the second, a first-rate torch number that demonstrates just how original those Brill Building "bad boy" songs weren't.
Who Kicked the Light Plug (out of the Socket) (George Brown-Vin Ruddie), Betty Hutton with Orchestral Accompaniment (What an informative record label), 1950. From RCA Victor 45.
He's a Demon--He's a Devil--He's a Doll (Don Raye-Harold Spina), Betty Hutton, 1950. From RCA Victor 45.
Wow. Next, she'll be telling us that he's a rebel.
And now we join Tony Bennett as he walks along the streets of sorrow, the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Where gigolo and gigolette....
Well, we'll let Tony tell it.
It's possible you haven't heard this particular record, as another (and, I'm assuming, later) version took its place long ago on Tony's greatest-hits comps:
The Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Gigolo and Gigolette) (Dubin-H. Warren), Tony Bennett with Marty Manning's Orch., 1950. From Columbia 45.
Boy, did I have to clean that one up--Edit City, U.S.A. I wasn't able to get everything out (there's a slight, splice-produced "burp" at one point, for instance), but I improved things considerably. Trust me. A fun challenge, but not one I'd want to take on every day. If I were feeling evil, I'd post a file of the record prior to any EQing or splicing. Enough to drive the sanest listener stark, raving mad. Magazine.
By the way, I have yet to decide whether I find that song depressing or hilarious. It doesn't help that the first version I ever heard was the comedy version by Jonathan and Darlene Edwards (Paul Weston and Jo Stafford).
We close with Stomp and Whistle, as performed by the Harry James Orchestra with Buddy Rich on vocal. It's a good thing Elvis entered the pop charts two years later, because otherwise how on earth would the white pop audience have heard rocking boogie-woogie with a backbeat? With rousing call-and-response passages? And interesting off-the-beat accents? And walking bass lines that make the listener want to jump up and dance? Thank God r&r came and buried D.O.A. fare like this. We're all better off because of it, you know:
Stomp and Whistle (Overbea), Harry James and His Orchestra, Vocal by Buddy Rich, 1954. From Columbia 45.
Sarcastic? Me? About received ideas, in particular? Never.
Lee
We start with Betty and Perry, who make a great duet.
She's a Lady (Cy Coben), Perry Como and Betty Hutton with Mitch Ayres Orch., 1950. From RCA Victor 45.
And we continue with two solo Huttons--the first, a novelty in that typical postwar-era cross between ragtime and early jazz; the second, a first-rate torch number that demonstrates just how original those Brill Building "bad boy" songs weren't.
Who Kicked the Light Plug (out of the Socket) (George Brown-Vin Ruddie), Betty Hutton with Orchestral Accompaniment (What an informative record label), 1950. From RCA Victor 45.
He's a Demon--He's a Devil--He's a Doll (Don Raye-Harold Spina), Betty Hutton, 1950. From RCA Victor 45.
Wow. Next, she'll be telling us that he's a rebel.
And now we join Tony Bennett as he walks along the streets of sorrow, the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Where gigolo and gigolette....
Well, we'll let Tony tell it.
It's possible you haven't heard this particular record, as another (and, I'm assuming, later) version took its place long ago on Tony's greatest-hits comps:
The Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Gigolo and Gigolette) (Dubin-H. Warren), Tony Bennett with Marty Manning's Orch., 1950. From Columbia 45.
Boy, did I have to clean that one up--Edit City, U.S.A. I wasn't able to get everything out (there's a slight, splice-produced "burp" at one point, for instance), but I improved things considerably. Trust me. A fun challenge, but not one I'd want to take on every day. If I were feeling evil, I'd post a file of the record prior to any EQing or splicing. Enough to drive the sanest listener stark, raving mad. Magazine.
By the way, I have yet to decide whether I find that song depressing or hilarious. It doesn't help that the first version I ever heard was the comedy version by Jonathan and Darlene Edwards (Paul Weston and Jo Stafford).
We close with Stomp and Whistle, as performed by the Harry James Orchestra with Buddy Rich on vocal. It's a good thing Elvis entered the pop charts two years later, because otherwise how on earth would the white pop audience have heard rocking boogie-woogie with a backbeat? With rousing call-and-response passages? And interesting off-the-beat accents? And walking bass lines that make the listener want to jump up and dance? Thank God r&r came and buried D.O.A. fare like this. We're all better off because of it, you know:
Stomp and Whistle (Overbea), Harry James and His Orchestra, Vocal by Buddy Rich, 1954. From Columbia 45.
Sarcastic? Me? About received ideas, in particular? Never.
Lee
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