NRR Project: 'Tipitina' (1953)

NRR Project: “Tipitina”

Composed and performed by Professor Longhair

Released 1953

2:15

The evolution of Henry Roeland Byrd into Professor Longhair (1918-1980) was a blessed and vital happenstance. He made his own unique music out of a disparate array of styles he absorbed as he grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana. Precocious, he worked the piano since childhood, unlocking its harmonic mysteries on his own. He picked up blues, rhumba, barrelhouse tunes and started crafting his own.

“Tipitina” is a wild, exuberant nonsense song. It’s a hybrid, part blues and part rhumba, somehow meshing in a frenzied crash of chords. Longhair’s raucous, rangy playing style is matched by his rasping, slurred vocals. Read Per Oldaeus’ essay at the National Recording Registry for more info on him!

He was so obscure, music producers had to hunt him down to record him. He was backed by various pickup groups, labeled with monickers such as the Shuffling Hungarians and the Blues Jumpers. He enjoyed mild notoriety in the R & B scene in the mid-1950s, but it was his great reappreciation in the 1970s that brought him the most fame, and a second performing career.

Professor Longhair wrote upbeat, life-affirming music that proved influential to new generations of music makers in New Orleans.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Fritz Reiner conducts Also Sprach Zarathustra.

NRR Project: 'Songs by Tom Lehrer' (Jan. 22, 1953)

NRR Project: “Songs by Tom Lehrer”

Composed and performed by Tom Lehrer

Recorded Jan. 22, 1953

23:18

Tom Lehrer (1928-2025) was a genius. With an unerring ear for parody, he composed and performed humorous songs that shocked many and pleased many more. This initial album by him marks the birth of “sick” humor in the United States, a classification that would eventually include many comics of the 1950s, including Lenny Bruce, MAD magazine, Jules Feiffer, Charles Addams, and Nichols and May.

Lehrer was a Harvard student, majoring in mathematics, when he went into a studio and paid $15 to record himself singing 12 songs that he had been performing around campus for a couple of years. An initial pressing of 400 sold out, then 400 more. Finally the album was re-recorded and reissued, and sold strongly across the U.S.

Lehrer, a fan as a boy of musical theater, had the ability to mimic popular song styles to a T. Within his lively, catchy musical expeditions were couched lyrics that were snappy, incisive – and grim. Try these from his “My Home Town”: 

I really have a yen
To go back once again
Back to the place where no one wears a frown
To see once more those super-special just plain folks
In my home town

No fellow could ignore
The little girl next door
She sure looked sweet in her first evening gown
Now there's a charge for what she used to give for free
In my home town

I remember Dan
The druggist on the corner,
He was never mean or ornery
He was swell
He killed his mother-in-law and ground her up real well
And sprinkled just a bit
Over each banana split

The guy that taught us math
Who never took a bath

Acquired a certain measure of renown
And after school he sold the most amazing pictures
In my home town

That fellow was no fool
Who taught our Sunday School
And neither was our kindly Parson Brown
We're recording tonight so I have to leave this line out
In my home town

I remember Sam
He was the village idiot
And though it seems a pity, it was so
He loved to burn down houses just to watch the glow
And nothing could be done
Because he was the mayor's son

The guy that took a knife
And monogrammed his wife
Then dropped her in the pond and watched her drown
Oh, yes indeed, the people there are just plain folks
In my home town

Lehrer tackles school spirit with “Fight Fiercely, Harvard,” sings a sentimental song about “The Old Dope Peddler,” and makes fun of nuclear annihilation in “The Wild West Is Where I Want to Be.”

Lehrer immediately became a celebrity. However, fame didn’t suit him. After some short tours (he claims to have only written 37 songs and performed 109 shows in his sporadic 20-year career) he gave up writing and performing and settled down into teaching mathematics and the history of musical theater at the University of California in Santa Cruz.

He was simply done, satisfied with his accomplishments and unwilling to push farther. He enjoyed widespread admiration, and the regular playing of his songs, throughout his life until he passed away at the age of 97.

You really have to listen to his output to get a sense of how talented he was. Singing with gusto and sarcastic verve, he puts over his creations, as tuneful and witty as those of any songwriter in the Great American Songbook. He was just funny, that’s all.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Tipitina.

NRR Project: the 1953 Callas 'Tosca'

NRR Project: “Tosca”

Composed by Giacomo Puccini

Performed by Maria Callas, Giuseppe Di Stefano, Tito Gobbi, et al

La Scala Opera Orchestra, Victor de Sabata, conductor

Recorded 1953

1 hr., 48 min.

Wow. It’s simply the best opera recording of all time, that’s all. (Read Paul Gruber's essay on it at the National Recording Registry here.)

Seen as the high-water mark of soprano Maria Callas’ recording career, it’s a ravishing reading of the highly emotional, intensely melodic three-act tragic melodrama of 1900 by composer Giacomo Puccini.

The opera itself was adapted from Victorien Sardou’s 1887 play of the same name by Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa. The story is gripping. As in most operas, the reactions are exaggerated and the plot is complex. But Puccini keeps things at least plausible as the action snowballs. As always, Puccini’s musical sense is profoundly catchy, so even if you have no idea what’s going on you will still enjoy it.

Basically, it’s Rome, 1800. Napoleon has control, then he doesn’t, then he does again. The chief of police, the evil Scarpia (baritone – usually the bad guy), is hunting Italian freedom fighters. We find the painter Cavaradossi (tenor – the tenor is always the good guy) working on a painting in the church of Sant’Andrea della Valle; he is also a friend of the revolution. He hides an escaped prisoner in a nearby chapel.

Then his jealous girlfriend, Tosca (soprano – the soprano is always the heroine), a noted diva, enters. They have a spat; he tells her he loves her. She leaves. Scarpia enters! Quickly, he and his minions search the church. The prisoner has escaped again. Scarpia hates Cavaradossi, lusts for Tosca. Tosca comes back. Scarpia manipulates her jealously, then has her followed. Then Scarpia, as a procession sings the Te Deum in the background, he vows to kill Cavaradossi and have Tosca. Crazy, right?

In Act II, we go to Scarpia’s apartment. He commands Tosca to come to him. He busts Cavaradossi, has him brought in, tortures him, trying to find the hiding place of the escaped prisoner. Cavaradossi refuses to rat out his buddy, of course. Tosca arrives; her lover is dragged off. Scarpia tortures him until Tosca reveals the hiding place. They drag the painter back in; he’s overwrought because Tosca was a stool pigeon.

Cavaradossi is condemned to execution. Off they drag him again. Scarpia now has a proposition. If Tosca will do the nasty with him, he will set Cavaradossi free. She then sings the central aria (aka solo song) the incredible Vissi d’arte, in which she sadly asks God why He has abandoned her. She gives in. Scarpia orders up a mock execution for Cavaradossi. Then, when he’s not looking, she stabs him to death. And leaves.

In the third act, we move to the execution ground high atop the Castel Sant’Angelo. Poor old tortured Cavaradossi is told he has an hour to live. He sings E lucevan le stelle, the other killer aria in the opera, about how sad he is and how he wishes he could snog with Tosca again.

Tosca dashes in tells him to fake dying when they pretend to shoot him. The two sing about how happy they will be. Soon they will snog! Oops, execution time, Tosca hangs out for it. They shoot! Cavaradossi slumps! The bad guys march away. Tosca runs up to the execution post. Hey – he’s actually dead. Scarpia, that skunk! He is avenged from beyond the grave! Those were real bullets. O life is bitter.

Bad guys reenter, tell Tosca to give up. She runs to the top of the castle and flings herself off the top to her death. Curtain. (I have heard of Toscas trampolining back up into view when they’ve flung themselves off the parapet. I personally saw one crossing not so discreetly upstage right after her supposed demise.)

Tosca is the grade-A emotional roller coaster that makes it perfect for the intensity, the dark fatalism that seems to pervade it. Every beat is efficiently carried by the music; there are little themes but it’s not too bad; they are simply markers. The characters are three-dimensional. When properly acted, this work is mesmerizing, impossible to ignore.

Here Maria Callas (1923-1977) shone. She made this a signature piece of hers, her unique property, and you can hear it in this recording. She is more fully developed in the art of acting than any other opera singer before or since. She was vivid and clear, her tone impeccable . . . and not affected by the wobble that plagues her later in her career. Her phrasing, her precision make her a consummate performer whose work transcends its genre.

Her Tosca is many things: imperious, mournful, shocked, elated, and ultimately murderous. In killing she is protecting Cavaradossi, and the revolution, and her autonomy. Her fate is tragic, but in Callas she is fiercely alive.

She is ably supported by the exacting conductor Victor de Sabata, whose only commercial opera recording this was. Her Cavaradossi, Giuseppe Di Stefano, is in peak form. Tito Gobbi, her Scarpia, was masterful portrayer of operatic villains who is always worth a listen. Backed by the prestigious La Scala Opera Orchestra, the entire enterprise is first-rate. The recording is excellent, unlike many memorable but grainy bootleg recordings of Callas.

As always with opera, you need to study up on it a bit. It helps if you can get a translation in front of you. After a while, your brain figures it out and you can follow along. If you must listen to only one opera, listen to this recording of this one.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Songs by Tom Lehrer.

 

 

NRR Project: 'My Funny Valentine' (1956)

NRR Project: “My Funny Valentine”

Composed by Richard Rodgers; lyrics by Larry Hart

Performed by the Gerry Mulligan Quartet featuring Chet Baker

Recorded May 20, 1953

5:18

Another selection I know little about. Read Jeroen de Valk’s superior essay on this piece and Chet Baker here at the National Recording Registry.

It’s a slow-burning, gut-wrenching take on this famous melody. Baker’s dark energy infuses the recording with yearning, aided by Mulligan’s artful contributions.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: the 1953 Maria Callas ‘Tosca’.

NRR Project: 'Let's Go Out to the Programs' (Nov. 1953)

NRR Project: “Let’s Go Out to the Programs”

Composed by Ira Tucker

Performed by the Dixie Hummingbirds

Recorded Nov. 1953

2:51

Another selection I, regrettably, know precious little about. Read Jerry Zolten’s comprehensive essay on this song and the milieu of its time at the National Recording Registry here.

Here, the group promotes the “programs,” basically song contests between gospel singing groups, which were popular at the time. The Dixie Hummingbirds show off their technical chops by imitating four of their competitors. And they do a great job – if you know these other groups, then the Hummingbirds hauntingly cop their styles.

It sold more than a half million copies. It’s a fun record that’s not mean-spirited in any way. These guys are having fun, and they invite us to have fun with them.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: My Funny Valentine.

 

NRR Project: 'John Brown's Body' (1953)

 

NRR Project: “John Brown’s Body”

Written by Stephen Vincent Benet

Adapted and directed by Charles Laughton

Performed by Tyrone Power, Raymond Massey, Judith Anderson et al

Recorded 1953

120 min.

This is a forgotten gem. In 1928, poet Stephen Vincent Benet wrote an epic, book-length poem on the Civil War, John Brown’s Body, for which he won the Pulitzer Prize. Decades later, the actor and director Charles Laughton had the remarkable idea to put on a staged reading of the work. Read Gary Grieve-Carlson’s essay on this piece at the National Recording Registry here.

Laughton had previous experience creating what was referred to then as “readers’ theater.” In this genre, dramatic works are staged without scenery and blocking, consisting simply of actors standing on stage reading their parts from music stands. Laughton successfully staged the “Don Juan in Hell” portion of George Bernard Shaw’s 1905 play Man and Superman in this manner.

Now Laughton marshalled his forces. He edited the poem down to a performable length, and conceived of an inventive presentation that incorporated three primary performers (the incredibly gifted Tyrone Power, Judith Anderson, and Raymond Massey), a chorus of 20, and music and sound effects created by Walter Schumann. The result is a fascinating, moving tapestry of sound, a historical drama that outlines the conflict in a journey that lasts for two absorbing and beautiful hours. It is well worth the listening.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Let’s Go Out to the Programs.

NRR Project: 'Hound Dog' (Aug. 13, 1952)

 

NRR Project: “Hound Dog”

Composed by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller

Performed by Big Mama Thornton

Recorded Aug. 13, 1952; released 1953

3:01

First, read Michael Sporke’s exemplary essay on this piece at the National Recording Registry. It covers all the salient facts about this recording.

This raucous, fast-moving blues song set the stage for rock and roll. It was the brainchild of Jerry Lieber and Mike Stoller, who were only 19 at the time. They were tasked with writing a song for blues singer Willie Mae Thornton (1926-1984), a formidable 350-pound shouter who growled and rasped her way through her material. They completed the song in about 15 minutes.

Thornton first began singing the song as a ballad, but Leiber and Stoller persuaded her to try an upbeat approach. She complied, backed only by drums (played by the great Johnny Otis), guitar, and bass – the foundational instruments of rock. The arrangement of the song is unusual for the time in that it used neither the saxophone nor the piano.

Her aggressive and angry attitude fit the content of the song, which was the rejection of a dependent male. The song became an immediate hit, riding high on the R & B charts for many weeks. Rapidly, others covered it and wrote “answer” songs to it.

However, it was Elvis’s cover of it in June 1956 that made it an international hit. His appropriation of Black blues style made him a messiah of rock and roll to millions of fans. This recording earned Lieber and Stoller thousands in revenue; however, both Thornton and bandleader Johnny Otis, who had a hand in writing and recording the song, got next to nothing.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: John Brown’s Body.