NRR Project: ‘Bo Diddley/I’m a Man’
Written and performed by Bo Diddley
Recorded March 2, 1955
I could not do better than Ed Komara, who writes about theselection here at the National Recording Registry.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Glenn Gould plays Bach’s Goldberg Variations.
Written and performed by Carl Perkins
Recorded Dec. 19, 1955
2:08
First, read Mark Bristol and Ken Burke’s top-notch explanatory essay on this cut here, at the National Recording Registry.
I have little to add. That a guy would make a joking song about not damaging his footwear and sell millions of copies is truly an American success story. Carl Perkins (1932-1998) was an excellent songwriter and a masterful performer. That he did not take flight in the public eye as Elvis did is a shame (Elvis soon covered this song in 1956 and eventually his version outsold Perkins’). He remains known as a pioneering creator of rockabilly.
His success is attributable to a degree by the popularity of the relatively new technology – the 45-rpm record, which debuted in 1949. The concept of an “A” side and a “B” side, two “singles” bound together, became market logic and dictated the music-making industry until about 1974. It permeated the culture, selling primarily to teens.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: ‘Bo Diddley/I’m a Man’.
Written and performed by Mort Sahl
Recorded 1955; released 1958
54:36
Mort Sahl was revered as an innovative comedian in the 1950s and early 1960s, until others went farther into the outrageous than he did.
Read Daniel Blazek’s excellent essay on this selection here, at the National Recording Registry. It not only expertly illuminates the album’s generation, it thoroughly analyzes Sahl, his unique style, and his appeal.
There were no comics like him before. The American comedian at the time was a guy in a tux, tie askew, cracking out prewritten jokes, literal “routines” in familiar, safe territory. Sahl dressed down, talked TO the audience. He respected it, didn’t condescend do do tired, trite material for it. He was himself onstage, not a persona. Armed with only a newspaper, he would free-associate on any manner of topics for a crowd, whatever floated to the top of his mind. And it worked. People wanted to hear it.
His pacing is unprecedented. He makes jokes at top speed, rapidly riffing through his subjects without regard to whether the audience is laughing or not. He blows like a jazz soloist. He seems compulsive, a raging voice that tumbles pell-mell across the political and social landscape. (He is not a “blue” comic – everything he says is capable of airplay.)
This album was officially released in 1958, then withdrawn, though it was his first recorded effort, three years prior. Thus this is the first capture of Sahl at work – spitting out observations with energy and wit. He inspired later generations of comics with his daring and spontaneity.
Would his approach work today? Would he recognize the evolution of the American comedy scene? Would he be having a field day right now? Probably.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Carl Perkins delivers ‘Blue Suede Shoes.’
Sun Records recording sessions
Recorded 1954-1955
44:24
First, read this excellent and comprehensive essay on these sessions by James L. Dickerson at the National Recording Registry.
I am not an Elvis person, but these sessions are exceptional. They capture a new energy, a new musical ethic entirely. Somehow, through them a young man from Memphis with no connections became the most famous person in the world, a legend who still influences performance today. These recordings prove his appeal.
He sings like his life depends on it. Sad emotions had dominated the singer-centric pop music of the day, but this was a vibrant call for life, more life! Elvis’ energy is infectious. He howls, he stutters, he over-articulates. He can be cheesy; he is said to have derived his style in part from listening to Dean Martin. But his emotional power is tremendous – he conveys passion.
Here Elvis gets down with Scotty Moore on electric guitar and Bill Black on double bass. Moore’s spare and precise accompaniment is distinctive, and started its own tradition.
Speaking of tradition, Elvis was strictly an interpretive artist. Here he’s covering an electric set of songs, starting with a double-time rendition of bluegrass creator Bill Monroe’s classic “Blue Moon of Kentucky.” He sings “race music” – music marketed to African Americans – “That’s All Right,” “Good Rockin’ Tonight,” “Baby Let’s Play House.” He covers old standards like “Blue Moon” and, country songs such as “Just Because.” He even covers “Harbor Lights.” Together these musicians create rockabilly.
He mixes Black and white influences effortlessly. His delivery is authoritative and confident. Listening to his definitive rendition of “Mystery Train” or the overlooked “Tryin’ to Get to You,” I am spellbound. No wonder he exploded on the scene.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Mort Sahl’s At Sunset.
NRR Project: Ruth Draper’s monologues
Written and performed by Ruth Draper
Recorded 1954-1956
Approx. 5 hours
Somehow the work of this extraordinary person has escaped me until now.
Ruth Draper (1884-1956) was a debutante and member of New York’s highest social circles. However, she had a gift for mimicry, an active imagination, and writerly skill. She began to perform self-penned short comic soliloquies in character for the amusement of friends and family. Gradually, she began to perform for pay. Instead of evolving into an ordinary actress, working in tandem with others, she maintained her independence and remained a solo writer/performer. Eventually, she would be the most powerful solo performer of her generation.
She crafted one-person playlets and performed them herself, using only a shawl, a chair, and a table as props. She was capable of immersing herself completely into the characters she portrayed, riveting audiences with her wholly realized performances. She was equally adept at comedy and drama. You can read Susan Mulcahy's excellent pieces on her life and work here and here.
Her closely observed incarnations were spellbinding. As a monologist, no one could touch her, and she served as the inspiration for future performers such as Lily Tomlin and Julie Harris. Such was her talent that she could evoke an entire world through the medium of solo performance. She created nearly 50 monologues in the course of her career, speaking in a variety of languages and accents. You can listen to her today and still enjoy her; her writing has remained fresh and universal.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Elvis Presley’s Sun Records sessions.
NRR Project: “Songs for Young Lovers”
Performed by Frank Sinatra
Recorded Nov. 5-8, 1953
21:36
It was Sinatra’s first album for Capitol Records. His life at the time, professionally and personally, was terrible. But he turned things around, sadder but wiser now, in soul and in voice, gifted with a throbbing intensity that did not hamper his capable expression of understated woe. His technique was perfected. He swung. He had just finished filming From Here to Eternity, for which his performance would earn an Oscar. He was reviving his reputation and career.
This is a gem. It’s said to be the first pop music theme album made. The eight songs on the album are thematically related, instead of just being another collection of hits. All eight songs but one were arranged by George Siravo, with the orchestra conducted by Nelson Riddle. As it turns out, Riddle was assumed to be the arranging genius behind the album (he arranged only one of the eight tunes, “Like Someone in Love”), which embittered Siravo.
You should read about it here from James Kaplan at the National Recording Registry. He gives you all the details of the legendary singer’s life as well as an apt analysis of the work itself!
Sinatra here is the master singer. Rigorously, he includes all the introductory passages to these great ballads, conveying context and emotion effortlessly. He serves the song, always, and that ardent commitment somehow raises him to a higher level. He nails the essence of each song, and does so beautifully. He’s the essence of cool.
Was this an apogee for him? Many would nominate his subsequent album In the Wee Small Hours (1955) for that title. Its bleak depths are cited by musicians and critics much more frequently as being an influence. Both albums are remarkable. Sinatra was articulating the zeitgeist; for all his faults, Frankie was singing for all of us.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Ruth Draper’s monologues.
Written by Max C. Freeman and James E. Myers (as Jimmy De
Knight)
Performed by Bill Haley & His Comets
Recorded April 12, 1954
2:08
So much has been written about this song. You can read David Lee Joyner’s essay at the National Recording Registry, or you can peruse the song’s Wikipedia entry for detailed information about the song’s evolution and birth.
It was written in 1952, supposedly by Max C. Freeman alone, with Myers claiming input. It was a pop-y minor-key ballad. Bill Haley and His Comets injected it with a new energy, made it bright and raucous.
Interestingly, Haley started off in Western swing, then started doing R&B covers. His band’s sound shifted. Combining the twang of country with the thump of R&B, they forged a new sound, urgent and wild.
The song was originally the B side of a 45-r.p.m. record. On the A side was “13 Women (And Me the Only Man in Town),” a little ditty about a nuclear holocaust. “Last night I was dreamin’/Dreamed about the H-Bomb/Well, the bomb went off and I was caught/I was the only man underground/There was-a 13 women and me the only man in town . . .” (We had the record at home.) It is an odd artifact of the Atomic Age.
It is simply a song that everyone loves. It topped the charts everywhere; time and time again it came back into the cultural spotlight. It switched a major portion of the population to the appreciation of rock and roll.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Frank Sinatra’s Songs for Young Lovers.
NRR Project: “A Night at Birdland, Vols.1 and 2”
Performed by the Art Blakey Quintet
Recorded Feb. 21, 1954
70 min.
Lightning in a bottle. I have heard pieces of this over my years as a jazz fan. However, it wasn’t until recently that I sat down and took in the two live sets the Art Blakey Quintet performed at the Birdland at 52nd and Broadway in Manhattan on Feb. 21, 1954. It is an amazing experience, well worth listening to over and over.
The beautiful interaction of these five men is extraordinary. Read Alan Goldsher’s expert elucidation of the album here at the National Recording Registry.
The personnel: Art Blakey, drums; Clifford Brown, trumpeter; Lou Donaldson, alto sax; Horace Silver, piano; Curley Russell, bass. All-stars, all. Blakey’s aggressive and inspiring drumming gives the rest of the players a solid and reassuring backing on which to work. Every performer’s musical flights of fancy seem to issue effortlessly forth. And they all work together, listening, contributing, listening again, men of one mind.
It’s one of those magic sessions in which the live audience gives the performers energy, pushing them over the top with their excitement and attention. Pulling off a live album is no mean trick; so many things can go wrong. We have all heard some of Charlie Parker’s live oeuvre in terrible sound quality, for instance. Most importantly, it just happened to be a great night.
This was the peak time of the hard bop era. TUTORIAL: Bebop came along in the 1940s, rising up during the final years of the Big Band Era. Its stars were Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell, Max Roach. Hard bop, evolving in the 1950s, had a more insistent rhythm, was open to blues and gospel and rhythm and blues influences. On their heels came such artists as Miles Davis and John Coltrane.
The performers on this album were the primary practitioners of the new aesthetic. This is jazz’s Classic period, when it permeated the culture and was treated like the vital art form it is. This recording tells you what jazz is all about.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: (We’re Gonna) Rock Around the Clock.
Composed by Bart Howard
Performed by Kaye Ballard
Recorded 1954
2:14
You should read the excellent and comprehensive essay on this piece at the National Recording Registry! It covers the career of the great Kaye Ballard, the song itself, and the life of the song’s composer, Bart Gordon.
It’s an amazingly popular song. It’s been recorded more than 300 times. Felicia Sanders was the first to sing it, but Kaye Ballard was the first to record it. She was a great comic talent who was underecognized! Here it’s done in its original ¾ time, slowly and sweetly. Frank Sinatra made the song his own in 1964.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: A Night at Birdland (Volumes 1 and 2).
NRR Project: “I’m Your Hoochie Coochie Man”
Composed by Willie Dixon
Performed by Muddy Waters
Recorded Jan. 7, 1954
2:47
First, read Robert Gordon’s excellent and quite funny essay on this piece at the National Recording Registry!
This recording joins the titanic energy of bluesman Muddy Waters (aka McKinley Morganfield, 1913-1983) and the genius of songwriter Willie Dixon (1915-1992). Waters moved from Mississippi to Chicago after World War II, and set about making a name for himself on that city’s stages. Used to working acoustically, he soon found that he had to electrify his sound to make himself heard in the clubs. This spawned the second great innovation in blues history, one in which amplified instruments howled and wailed the blues, inspiring generations of bluesmakers and, later, rockers.
Dixon was a preternaturally gifted songwriter, and he created dozens of hit songs. Beginning in 1953, he ruled the roost at Chess Records. For this recording, he assembles an amazing selection of musical talent to back Muddy up – Jimmy Rogers on guitar, Elga Edmonds on drums, Otis Spann on piano, Little Walter on harmonica, and Dixon himself on bass. The thunder of the accompaniment makes the song hit hard and not let go.
The song itself is a bragging song, as the singer identifies himself as a master of sexual potency. He invokes various folk beliefs to justify his sonnet of self-worth. This kind of grandstanding was common in blues singing – here Waters pushes it into the stratosphere.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: In Other Words (Fly Me to the Moon).
NRR Project: “A Festival of Lessons and Carols as Sung on
Christmas Eve in King’s College Chapel, Cambridge”
Performed by Choir of King's College, Cambridge
Recorded 1954
52:01
Another entry I know little about. Read Timothy Day’s excellent essay on the piece here at the National Recording Registry!
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: I’m Your Hoochie Coochie Man.
NRR Project: “Earth Angel (Will You Be Mine)”
Written by Jesse Belvin, Curtis Williams, and Gaynel
Hodge
Performed by the Penguins
Recorded 1954
2:57
It was the first “crossover” song from R & B to pop, migrating easily from one genre to another. It was this group’s only hit.
This new kind of ensemble singing, denoted as “doo-wop” after the kind of syllables chanted behind the lead tenor line, had as ancestors the close-harmony jazz singing of such groups as the Ink Spots, the Mills Brothers, the Boswell Sisters, and the Andrews Sisters. More recently, R & B quartets such as the Orioles, the Flamingoes, and the Crows were performing extensively, putting a soulful dimension into vocalizing.
The Penguins were Cleveland Duncan, Dexter Tisby, Curtis Williams, and Bruce Tate – two tenors, one bass, one baritone – who met up in high school in 1953. This blend of voices became the classic setup for performers in the doo-wop genre. It was recorded as a demo in a garage in South Central Los Angeles. This primitive (and inexpensive) kind of production helped the genre explode, until everyone knew someone who sang on the streetcorner, hoping to hit the big time.
But this was early days. Everybody loved this song. It hit Number One on the R & B charts, and Number Eight on the pop charts. A white group, the Crew-Cuts, recorded a version for white listeners. That version hit Number Three on the pop charts.
It spawned several lawsuits as to who really wrote the song. It is estimated to have sold 20 million copies over its lifespan.
Read Lawrence Pitilli’s meditation on it here at the National Recording Registry!
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: A Festival of Lessons and Carols as Sung on Christmas Eve in King’s College Chapel, Cambridge.
NRR Project: “The Damnation of Faust”
Composed by Hector Berlioz
Performed by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Charles
Munch
With the Harvard Glee Club and the Radcliffe Choral
Society
Recorded Feb. 21/22, 1954
121 min.
Another entry about which I have little to add. Read Cary O’Dell’sexcellent essay on the piece at the National Recording Registry, here.
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 Penguins sing ‘Earth Angel (Will You Be Mine)’.
Composed by Richard Strauss
Performed by the Chicago Symphony, conducted by Fritz
Reiner
Released 1953
33 min.
Another piece that I have little to add about. Jonathan Horrocks’ essay on it, which you can read here, is pretty comprehensive about Reiner and the Chicago Symphony.
It’s an orchestral showpiece, written by composer Richard Strauss (1864-1949) in 1896. It is based on one of the philosophical works of Friederich Nietzsche, who published it in 1885. Nietzsche famously declared that “God is dead.” He decided that normal human spiritual values and organized religion were no longer valid and that they must be supplanted by “masters,” motivated by the “will to power,” who would craft their own morality in response to their personal needs and visions, thereby creating an Ubermensch, a superman who represents the next step in the volution of humanity. With me so far? It was this kind of intellectual exceptionalism that later spawned philosophies such as Hitler’s.
Strauss’s composition takes certain chapters from the book and sets them to music – ecstatic, blowsy music that sweeps the listener off their feet. They are as follows:
Strauss was a phenomenal composer, and this is one of a slew of tone poems that he wrote at the end of the 19th century. A noted conductor, he moved on to crafting operas that became famous worldwide. He later endured an uncomfortable relationship with the Nazis, playing along with them in order to safeguard his Jewish daughter-in-law and grandchildren. Cleared of collaboration after the war, he did not long survive it.
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 Damnation of Faust.
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.
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.
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.
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’.
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”
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”
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.
Composed and spoken by Rev. C.L. Franklin
Recorded 1953
30:29
Evangelical Christianity has a long tradition of powerful, emotionally impactful speechifying. Whether a sermon from a minister or witness from a member of the congregation, inspired oratory is the norm in this branch of beliefs. What was in the Old World a staid practice turned, through the mouths of Americans, into a whirlwind, enthusiastic, transcendent activity.
One of the most admired practitioners of this soul-stirring style of declamation was the Rev C.L. Franklin, a Baptist preacher in Detroit. Such was his renown that record store owner Joe Von Battle recorded this sermon and released it on 78 rpm discs. Read Nick Salvatore’s excellent essay on this selection at the National Recording Registry here.
Franklin’s approach is intensely dramatic. Starting his sermon with slowly voiced statements, Franklin picks up in volume and intensity as he hits the main points of his lecture. The congregation, as is usual in evangelical churches, responds frequently with comment and encouragement. Finally, Franklin turns incantatory, expressing himself almost musically with rhythmic cadence and swooping phrasing, whipping his listeners up into an inspired frenzy, drawn ecstatically to God.
Franklin’s showmanship at the pulpit inspired many – not least, his daughter . . . Aretha.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Hound Dog.
NRR Project: “Gunsmoke: The Cabin”
Broadcast Dec. 27, 1952
30 min.
This program was perhaps the best in the history of American network radio. It fully explored the medium’s potentialities, both in terms of content and sonically. The detailed and grim world of the frontier it created endures if listened to in the present. The show, a Western, began in 1952 and lasted well into the Television Age – and transitioned to television itself, in a show that ran concurrently with the original radio show from 1955 to 1961, then persisted itself to 1975.
There are many great resources out there on this show. You can read Charles Tranberg’s essay on it at the National Recording Registry here. The eminent historian John Dunning covers it in his On the Air, pages 302-306; another comprehensive record is SuzAnne and Gabor Barabas’ Gunsmoke: A Complete History.
It was the brainchild of director Norman Macdonnell and writer John Meston. For the first time, the two took a cliché-ridden genre and revitalized it completely, turning a kids’ subject into one starkly adult. The show was set in the frontier town of Dodge City, Kansas; there, all manner of characters and stories could spring to life. There would be violence, insanity, crime, and all of life’s foibles. But how to anchor the show?
Brilliantly, Meston created Matt Dillon, U.S. Marshal (William Conrad) – a lawman grim and largely unhumorous, capable of righteous rage and cold-blooded calculation, as close to an anti-hero as the time would permit. He is a man with a past and no great concern about his future. He deals justice with understated intensity. He is perpetually alert, guarded, lonely. Rarely would an episode go by without Dillon regretfully killing a miscreant, but there were splashes of mercy from him as well.
Characters were complex; real-sounding people learned hard truths about themselves in the short space of a half hour. Dillon’s companions were deputy Chester Proudfoot (Parley Baer), doctor Addams (Howard McNear) and Kitty Russell (Georgia Ellis). Together they faced up to the killers, the thieves, the gunfighters, the bankers, the tenderfeet, the loose women, the cavalrymen . . .It is surprising to see how varied the subject matter could be, within the solid confines of the outline of the show.
Macdonnell and Meston were aided by the excellent music of Rex Koury, and the “sound patterns” of the sound effects team consisting of Tom Hanley, Ray Kemper, and Bill James. Never before had such an artful backdrop of appropriate sounds been rendered over the air. Listen to it today: you can make out the burble of a crowded bar, or the prairie at midnight, or people trapped by a raging storm.
The episode chosen for inclusion here is typical of the series. It does not feature Chester, Doc, or Kitty – it is a Matt story, and a bloody one. Dillon, trying to ride home, confronts a deadly blizzard. He finds shelter inside a house – that turns out to be occupied by two psychotic criminals and their female hostage. How he extricates himself from his predicament I’ll leave to you – you can listen in to the episode on any of a number of sites; I prefer Radio Echoes and the Internet Archive.
The show’s strength was such that the network ran it for an entire decade, long after most other radio shows had dried up and blown away. Listening to it is an education in how to write, produce, direct, and perform a radio show.
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 Eagle Stirreth Her Nest.
NRR Project: “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels”
Composed by J.D. “Jay” Miller
Performed by Kitty Wells
Released 1952
1:40
Well, if you want to know all about this entry, just read John Rumble’s excellent essay on it at the National Recording Registry.
The country subgenre of the wronged-woman song really starts here. Interestingly, this is an “answer song” to Hank Thompson’s 1952 hit “Wild Side of Life,” which blames an unfaithful woman for the singer’s troubles. Wells’ response casts the blame back on men.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: ‘Gunsmoke’: “The Cabin.”
Composed by Dale Evans
Performed by Roy Rogers and Dale Evans
Released 1952
1:40
This delightful and instantly memorable little ditty became the theme song for Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, cowboy stars of movies, TV, and radio in the middle of the 20th century. Rogers and Evans were married in real life. Evans penned this herself.
Roy Rogers (1911-1998) was a phenomenon. Born Leonard Slye, he knocked around show biz in California while working many different menial jobs. In 1933, he helped to form a singing group that soon became known as the Sons of the Pioneers. The group scored hits such as “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” and “Cool Water.”
Then, in 1938, cowboy star Gene Autry wanted more money for his film work. The studio decided to create their own singing cowboy, whom they could pay less. Leonard won the job. He was quickly rechristened Roy Rogers, and he made Under Western Stars. He was an instant hit, and was soon to be known as the King of the Cowboys.
In 1944, he met Dale Evans (1912-2001), who up to that point had a successful career as a jazz singer. They married on New Year’s Eve, 1947 and immediately began performing together. In 1952, Evans created this song as the closing theme for the radio and TV incarnations of The Roy Rogers Show.
The lyrics are upbeat:
Happy trails to you, until we meet again.
Happy trails to you, keep smilin' until then.
Who cares about the clouds when we're together?
Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.
Happy trails to you, 'till we meet again.
Some trails are happy ones,
Others are blue.
It's the way you ride the trail that counts,
Here's a happy one for you.
Happy trails to you, until we meet again.
Happy trails to you, keep smilin' until then.
Who cares about the clouds when we're together?
Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.
Happy trails to you, 'till we meet again.
The song has become part of the collective consciousness.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Kitty Wells sings “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels.”
Composed by Frederic Chopin
Performed by Arthur Rubenstein
Recorded 1952
5:31
This stirring performance gives just an indication of the brilliance of pianist Arthur Rubenstein (1887-1982). Read Annik LaFarge’s excellent essayon Chopin and Rubenstein at the National Recording Registry here!
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Happy Trails.
NRR Project: ‘A Child’s Christmas in Wales’
Written and recited by Dylan Thomas
Released 1952
21:22
This mellifluous recording was the first offered by the spoken-word record label Caedmon. Read Nerys Williams’ excellent essay on it here.
Dylan Thomas (1914-1953) was a dramatic and engaging Welsh poet, whose stentorian voice chanted out his verse powerfully. While his private life was chaotic, he turned out many assured works. He gained fame through his reading of his works. A Child’s Christmas in Wales is a prose work, but it is beautiful and potent.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Chopin’s Polonaise, op. 40, no. 1, performed by Arthur Rubenstein.
NRR Project: Anthology of American Folk Music
Collected and curated by Harry Smith
Released 1951
4 hrs., 15 min.
Oh my God. First, just go and listen to the thing. Take the time to do it. You’ll thank me.
It’s most extraordinary compendium of what Greil Marcus referred to as the music of “the old, weird America.” It covers folk music. It includes the blues. There are spirituals. There’s early country music here. The 84 songs were selected from genius scholar and filmmaker Harry Smith’s 78 rpm collection, recordings ranging from 1926 to 1933. The meticulous Smith classified them as three themed albums: ballads, “social music,” and songs.
It was not particularly noted at the time of its release. However, it inspired a whole generation of fans, first, folk singers, then rock bands, and rapidly evolving genres such as bluegrass and country. It created the American folk revival of the late 1950s and early 1960s. It inspired Baez and Dylan. Its impact and value cannot be overstated. Do I make myself clear?
It’s epic. It’s bizarre. It’s a revelation, The songs are ghosts from the primeval past, the American past.
And it was created by a bizarre individual. Harry Smith was an amateur anthropologist, an experimental filmmaker, a committed drug user, and a collector of all sorts of oddities, including 20,000 78 rpm records. It was from this collection that he culled the Anthology. Read about him here in Ian Nasgoski’s excellent essay at the National Recording Registry.
Smith plumbed the depths of American song, and its nooks and crannies, within the parameters he set for himself. He created the Anthology as a magnificent gesamtkunstwerk, a synthesis of sound, picture, and text that came neatly packaged together. Smith’s illustrated commentaries on each selection, released as a booklet along with the collection, are penetrating, pithy, and apt. (A fourth volume of vintage Americana in the Anthology series, encompassing 28 more songs released between 1928 and 1940, was released on Ravenant Records in 2000.)
The result of all this hard work is a document that illuminates the American musical psyche of the past. The largely ignored genres and little-heard tunes that are ironically now immortalized by Smith are, of a body, haunting: this is music made by real people, not mainstream groups nor mainstream genres. Thanks to Smith, those otherwise lost voices come back to haunt us. He gave us an X-ray of America’s soul.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Dylan Thomas recites his A Child’s Christmas in Wales.
Composed by Jackie Brenston and Ike Turner
Performed by Jackie Brenston and His Delta Cats (Ike
Turner and His Kings of Rhythm)
Recorded March 3 or 5, 1951
2:48
To really define “Rocket ‘88’” as the first rock and roll song is pretty arbitrary. Much of this approach dwelt in R’n’B, and precursors such as Johnny Otis, Louis Prima, Ruth Brown, Big Joe Turner, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, and Louis Jordan set the tone for what was coming.
Still, there is something new, something driven and assured taking place. There is an urgency not present before. Read Steve Propes’ excellent essay about it here at the National Recording Registry. Propes proposes that it’s the accidentally fuzzed-out sound of Willie Kizart that makes it rock and roll.
It was an inspired setup that came together quite casually, a happy constellation of talent that drove this vibrant song into hitland, and changed the course of music. Legendary music producer Sam Phillips recorded it in his studio in Memphis. Jackie Brenston was Ike Turner’s saxophonist. The real genius behind this is the unacknowledged genius/villain Turner, backed by his Kings of Rhythm.
It was a good-time, celebratory song. It was ostensibly about the singer’s new Oldsmobile 88, but it yaks along at breakneck pace about good times. It was upbeat and youthful, a new sound.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music.
NRR Project: National League tiebreaker, Oct. 3, 1951
Broadcast via the Liberty Radio Network
2:11:05
It’s simply one of the most exciting baseball games ever played.
Read Barry Petcheskey’s essay on it at the National Recording Registry here.
This was back in the days when the Giants and the Dodgers still operated out of New York. Their rivalry was intense. The Giants were 13 ½ games back with 50 games left to play in the regular season. They then won 16 in a row . . . and in the frantic final days, tied the Giants for the best record in the National League at the end of the season, both tallying 96 wins and 58 losses.
The solution? A three-game tiebreaker. The first game was played at the Dodgers’ Ebbets Field, which the Giants won, 2-1. The next game, played at the Polo Grounds, the home of the Giants, saw the Dodgers win 10-0. The series was tied with one game to go.
The game was televised (the first coast-to-coast telecast of a Major League game), and millions more listened in on the radio. Russ Hodges called the game on WMCA for the Liberty Broadcast System, and it is his memorable description of what happened that has come down to us.
What a great lineup! For the Dodgers, there was Jackie Robinson, Pee Wee Reese, Duke Snider, and Carl Furillo. For the Giants, there was Willie Mays, Alvin Dark – and the hero of the game, Bobby Thomson.
Meeting again at the Polo Grounds, the game featured Sal “The Barber” Maglie leading off as pitcher for the Giants, while Don Newcombe pitched for the Dodgers. The game stayed close until the 8th, when the Dodgers scored three runs. It looked like they were going to the World Series.
Down 4-1, the Giants worked magic in the bottom half of the inning. Well-placed hits advanced the runners, and drove in a run. Ralph Branca replaced Newcombe on the mound.
Now, with two outs and two men on base, Thomson came to the plate. He laid into the second pitch and sent it screaming into the left-field stands. The Giants won with his walk-off homer, 5-4. The crowd went wild, and Hodges’ excited call became instantly memorable. Thomson's homer became known aas the "Shot Heard 'Round the World."
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Rocket ‘88’.
NRR Project: “A Streetcar Named Desire” film soundtrack
Composed by Alex North
Recorded 1951
46:46
No one could do more justice to this subject than Jonathan Rhodes Lee, a musicologist whose insights are informed and comprehensive. You shouldread him at the National Recording Registry.
I can only add that I find it odd that this was the first film to really incorporate jazz into its soundtrack. But I guess that it is so. Early jazz in sound film was overwhelmingly diegetic – that is, it came from a source you could see on the screen. Alex North took it and shaped it into the narrative quite elegantly – so much so that the Catholic Legion of Decency censored the film, as a passage of his music in the score was deemed lascivious. North had to rewrite the cue.
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 National League tiebreaker, Oct. 3, 1951.
NRR Project: Douglas MacArthur’s Farewell Address
Delivered April 19, 1951
34:31
Christopher H. Sterling’s essay on this event at the NationalRecording Registry is quite comprehensive.
MacArthur was a highly decorated five-star general when President Harry Truman relieved him of command in the Korean conflict. MacArthur was a lauded figure, a Medal of Honor winner, the architect of Japan’s recovery after World War II. He was also an egotistical horse’s patootie.
He desired to attack China in connection with the Korean War, a direction to which Truman did not want to take the country. Of course, as civilians control the U.S. military, the two leaders found themselves locked in conflict. Finally, Truman dismissed him.
MacArthur was then invited by a heavily Republican Congress to address it in joint session on April 19, 1951. During the course of his half-hour at the podium, the general reiterated his ideas for fighting the Chinese and documented the government’s refusal to see things his way.
He concluded with the immortal phrase – “Old soldiers never die, they just fade away.”
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: A Streetcar Named Desire soundtrack.
Composed by Giovanni Pierluigi de Palestrina
Performed by the Roger Wagner Chorale
Recorded 1951
32:35
I could not do better than Donna M. Di Grazia and Jessie Ann Owens’ explanatory essay at the National Recording Registry. Read it!
FYI: For extra credit, listen to Hans Pfitzner' 1917 opera Palestrina, an excellent effort that outlines the composer's struggle to find acceptance for his music.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Douglas MacArthur’s Farewell Address.
NRR Project: Pictures at an Exhibition
Composed by Modest Mussorgsky; Orch. Ravel
Performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra; Rafael
Kubelik, conductor
Recorded 1951
28:49
The reason for the inclusion of this piece is its innovative use of improved technology to record a truer sound. At the National Recording Registry, Michael Gray explains.
The basic approach of the sound engineers who recorded this performance was simple. Recorded in Chicago Symphony Hall, rather than miking various sections of the orchestra and mixing the results, they set up a single condenser Telefunken U-47 microphone 25 feet above the conductor’s podium. They hit the sweet spot. The result is a “recording (that) was the inaugural release on Mercury’s Living Presence series.”
“In the liner notes for the Mercury rerelease, Robert C. Marsh commented that the original discs ‘represented the highest state of the art in monophonic recording technique.’” Listening to it today, its dynamic range leads one to agree that it makes for a perfect hi-fi demonstration record, for which it was used during the period. Its fidelity is remarkable.
The LP sat on many a shelf in the early 1950s.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Pope Marcellus Mass.
NRR Project: ‘Bo Diddley/I’m a Man’ Written and performed by Bo Diddley Recorded March 2, 1955 I could not do better than Ed Komara,...
