From the original 78s (are there any other kind?), the premiere recording (from 1927) of "Ferdie" Grofe's charming Three Shades of Blue, written in 1927 and recorded in 1928. Plus, Grofe's "other" concert work (re Grand Canyon Suite), Mississippi Suite (A Tone Journey), written in 1926 and recorded in 1927.
I last posted these in 2020, using Wokeupload. Meaning, those files are now in Workupload Heaven (and having a great time, I hope). Who knows how long that link had stayed active, anyway--prior to the banning of my shares, I mean? And Blogger is refusing to play nice, and so my 1933 image of Ferde will have to go here, instead of above:
Ripping shellac with VinylStudio has seemed like a long journey, but it's probably only been a couple of months. Yet, we don't always measure time in terms of hours or days. And I have no idea why I typed that--it seemed appropriate. It just tumbled out of my Bag of Cliches. But, yes, VS is such an incredibly fussy program (unlike MAGIX, which almost runs itself), it required any number of attempts, including test CD-Rs, until I have started to feel as if I know how to use the program.
Much--maybe most--of the problem is that VS is (to put it lightly) not designed for what I'm doing with it. Despite all the handy 78 rpm response curves included in the software, the general template presumes that the user is digitizing his or her 1960s and 1970s rock vinyl collection. Hence, I'm pushing the software into areas it doesn't want to go. And that glitch I reported to VinylStudio, which VS told me it would fix? I have no idea whether or not it has been. But, to the music...
Three Shades of Blue consists of "Indigo," "Alice Blue," and (on side B) "Heliotrope." As ever, Grofe makes superb use of PW's expanded "concert" orchestra, and I'm blessed with a fine copy of the single 12-incher (as opposed to the less-than-fine but serviceable Mississippi Suite shellac). I don't have the sheet music handy (Lord knows which stack it's sitting in), but I recall that the clever shifting meters of Heliotrope were accommodated within 4/4--no Burt Bacharach-esque time-signature shifts. Grofe was working well beyond Zez Confrey, then famous for his polymetrical tricks--Kitten on the Keys, in particular. In spots, the band seems slightly confused, but overall an expert presentation. And accomplished in only 2 and 3 takes (I forget the distribution, side-wise).
Mississippi Suite (A Tone Journey) was composed in 1926, and recorded on 9/7/1927. The first movement, "Father of the Waters," was cut (to fit things on a single 12-incher, probably), so things start with the fun, cartoonish "Huckleberry Finn," then proceed to the languid "Old Creole Days" (well, almost languid, had the session not been rushed), then (after flipping to side B) the justly famous showstopper, "Mardi Gras." I'm guessing Henry Busse provides the muted trumpet for the second movement--it really sounds like him (we hear the famous "sour" Busse tone), though I can't be sure. Of course, the song standard Daybreak was adapted from the middle section.
Years ago, a friend listening to the full-orchestra Mississippi Suite had only one gripe about the piece--the drawn-out climax. Maybe he had a point, but at this rapid tempo and in a smaller setting, the closing doesn't seem at all padded. And I've always wanted to type, "at all padded." Now, at last, my wish has been fulfilled.
Years ago, a friend listening to the full-orchestra Mississippi Suite had only one gripe about the piece--the drawn-out climax. Maybe he had a point, but at this rapid tempo and in a smaller setting, the closing doesn't seem at all padded. And I've always wanted to type, "at all padded." Now, at last, my wish has been fulfilled.
Mississippi must have made quite a splash in 1926, given that portions of it were interpolated into the 11/15/1926 Fred Rich and His Hotel Astor Orch. recording of George and Ira Gershwin's Do-Do-Do. Around that time, there was also a British recording of either the entire suite or Mardi Gras alone. And I don't recall what that record was, or by whom, and it's probably because I've blocked out the painful memory of receiving that 78, years ago, in pieces: The eBay dealer had packed the 12-inch disc so incompetently as to leave a portion uncovered. By no small coincidence, that exposed section didn't survive. She gave me a prompt refund, insisting that she'd never before broken a 78 during shipment. I figured she was either unusually lucky or prone to embellishing her USPS past.
Oh, and since I started with the weird and wacky OneDrive cloud service, Microsoft has made at least one major design change. Not sure why--All was well prior to the alteration. In Cyber-Land, program tweaks are often made simply for their sake...
Lee
2 comments:
Nice post from the early, early days of records Lee. Keep up the good work!
Thanks, Lee. Love these old Ferde records.
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