Sinister 78s!

I hope I'm not jumping the grave here--I mean, gun. But I've got a bunch of Halloween stuff to post, so why not start now, I said to myself. I said that to myself two days ago, in fact.

(Segue music played on harp, fade.)

Scene: Two days ago.

"So, why not start now?"--Me, to myself.

(Harp music, fade.)

Yup, my exact words, as docu-dramatized in the preceding flashback. Speaking of flashlights, wouldn't you hate to have the batteries go out on yours in the middle of an EVP-gathering party in a big, scary graveyard? You'd feel all the more ridiculous for being in the middle of a graveyard searching for Electronic Voice Phenomena.

I hate to admit it, but years ago I left my cassette recorder on to see if it would capture any ghost voices. I didn't think it would, but I was in a "why not try it?" frame of mind. So, I left it running in my living room while I went upstairs to bed. The next day I played the cassette back--nothing but tape hiss.

Oh, and this eerie voice telling me to grow up and stop believing in ghosts.

But Halloween, of course, is the season for suspending all rational, objective, skeptical thought. Except for those who ordinarily don't think rationally or skeptically--in which case, Halloween is a time for embracing reason. Whatever works, rite-of-reversal-wise.

Anyway, we've got some surefire shellac shockers guaranteed to shake up even the least sheepish:

Spooky Spooks (Claypoole), Prince's Band, 1916. From 12" Columbia 78.

The Sneak!, Club Royal Orchestra, 1921. From Victor 78.

Ah-Ha!, Paul Whiteman and His Orchestra, 1925. From Victor 78.

Chopin's Funeral March, Arthur Pryor's Orch., 1908. From 12" Victor 78.

Dance of the Demon (E. Holst, 1888), Victor Arden and Phil Ohman, 1923. From Victor 78.

The H Man, Columbia Pictures Theatre Lobby Spot, 1958. From 78.

And there's one more, but I haven't uploaded it yet. I will do so and then add it.

That is my initial-Halloween-playlist promise to you.




Lee

Tuesday morning gospel

I admit it--I'm a snob about "old time" gospel music. Whenever I'm subjected to faux old time gospel (think O Brother Where Art Thou), I rush to my Smith's Sacred Singers 78s. Or to shoestring-budget vinyl efforts by groups like The Rock of Ages Quartet and The Southern-Aires Gospel Singers, both of whom were singing 1926-style gospel in the Sixties or Seventies (hard to tell the exact decade or decades from the jackets, but 1970 would be pushing it, imo). No one had informed these folks the old stuff was long gone. They would have had a good laugh over that notion, I'm sure.

Three of these I recognize as standards--I'll Have a New Life, Heaven Is My Home, and Echoes from the Burning Bush. We Need the Light is a killer track I haven't run into anywhere else; Light songs, of course, go back forever (Lead, Kindly Light; Send the Light; This Little Light of Mine....). Travelin' Shoes is not the Guy Mitchell hit, of course--it's a black-sounding spiritual in Dry Bones mode (tune-wise).

The members of the Rock of Ages Quartet hailed from Virginia, Kentucky, and Tennessee. The Southern-Aires Gospel Singers were originally from West Virginia. Both ended up in Ohio, where they recorded these wonderful tracks. That's one great thing about living in the Buckeye State, I suppose--finding music like this at the thrifts.

My Home in Glory, The Rock of Ages Quartet. From privately-made LP.

Joy Is Coming, The Rock of Ages Quartet.

We Need the Light, The Rock of Ages Quartet.

Travelin' Shoes, The Rock of Ages Quartet.

I'll Have a New Life (Luther G. Presley), The Southern-Aires Gospel Singers, from privately-made LP.

Gonna Rise Up and Shine (Eugene Wright), The Southern-Aires Gospel Singers.

Heaven Is My Home (J.R. Baxter-Fred L. Swilling), The Southern-Aires Gospel Singers.

Echoes from the Burning Bush, The Southern-Aires Gospel Singers.

You may have noticed an unintended guest appearance on that last track. I refer to the piano's sustain pedal (bam, clunk, bam!). Couldn't they have muffled that somehow? Blankets, wadded up paper towels, something.

There's such a thing as too authentic, sometimes!

Lee