Preface

"Tell a story."

That was the advice of Lester Young, the celebrated tenor saxophonist of the Count Basie Orchestra. Tunes of the Twenties follows that advice. The songs in this book have stories to tell. They come from the streets of New Orleans, rural Mississippi, Tin Pan Alley, Broadway, Hollywood, churches that were home to haunting spirituals, and concert halls that presented classical masterpieces. Each one is unique, with a circumstance and a history that reflect the diversity of American culture and the dynamic of American business. 

The titles offer clues to their past. Sometimes they narrow the origin to a legendary street: "Basin St. Blues," "West End Blues," "Beale St. Blues," and "The 12th St. Rag." Or they hint at a story about places still standing or long gone: "Royal Garden Blues," "The Rose Room," "St. James Infirmary," and "On the Alamo." Then there are titles with names, often of real people: "Margie," Rosetta," and "Dinah." Some titles don't seem to make any sense at all: "Irish Black Bottom," "San," and "That Da-Da Strain." And some titles are just baffling: "Limehouse Blues, "Ballin' the Jack," "Thou Swell," and "Jitterbug Waltz." 

These and over 200 other stories are collected for you in Tunes of the Twenties, a work that is sure to provide hours of browsing pleasure and leave you with a totally new vision of what music was like during the Jazz Age.

The title Tunes of the Twenties is true, but not to be taken literally. It refers to a style, an attitude, and a mindset, not necessarily a decade. While the majority of the songs in this book bear copyright dates from the 20s, many were written earlier, some later. A few traditional jazz staples, including "The Darktown Strutters' Ball," "Indiana," and "Ballin' the Jack" belong to the decade before. Other favorites, among them "Just a Closer Walk with Thee," "St. James Infirmary," and "When the Saints Go Marching In," came way before the twenties. Surprisingly, some of the Dixieland warhorses, such as "Is It True What They Say about Dixie?" "Swing That Music," "Someday You'll Be Sorry," and "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?" actually belong to the 1930s and 40s. And the great soprano saxophonist Sydney Bechet, living the final years of his life in Paris, continued to turn out great traditional jazz numbers into the 1950s, including "Le Marchand De Poissons" ("The Fish Vendor") and "Petite Fleur."

Tunes of the Twenties is meant to be a companion guide to my previous book The Real Dixieland Book (published by Hal Leonard Corporation, 2010). That book provides the sheet music to 250 traditional jazz classics. This book talks about the songs. And "talk" is the operative word. Each entry starts with the basic facts, but then veers off into its own direction. I strive not for completeness and consistency, but to reveal what I found interesting about each particular tune. And, in the spirit of the music I discuss, I try to make each story unique, funny, witty if possible, and sometimes irreverent. Obscure facts pertaining to a song's early history are included only when they reveal something important about the song.   

In other words, if it wasn't interesting, I left it out.

 Most of the songs in this book are still frequently performed today, and represent the cream rising to the top. Many songs from the 20s are no longer remembered, and a list of the top hits of the decade would look far different from the contents of the present volume. The test of time is often a good filter, and some songs really needed many years to catch on or be rediscovered. For instance, to the best of my knowledge, no jazz band ever played "When the Saints Go Marching In" prior to Louis Armstrong's 1938 recording, yet today it is the most frequently requested song for traditional jazz bands. 

I threw in a couple of oddballs as well. I wanted there to be a mixture of different types of songs, which explains the inclusion of some rags, hymns, blues, and novelty songs that aren't frequently played anymore. When was the last time you heard "Borneo," "Dill Pickles Rag," or "Alcoholic Blues"? Knowing these obscure songs will enable musicians to broaden their repertoire, listeners to stump the band, and friends to share a fun fact or two over a cocktail. Regretfully, many good songs had to be left out because of space and copyright restrictions. (The Real Dixieland Book, which provided my song list, is a collection of both music and lyrics, and nearly all songs written after 1922 are still under copyright protection.) But as a cross section, the tunes included provide an excellent representation of the period. 

Although not a primary focus of this book, I have provided recommended recordings for most songs. Since early recordings were released individually, and then reissued in various collections after LPs and CDs came out, it seemed a better idea to simply provide the recording date. An Internet search with song, artist, and year will most like bring up the version referred to, either available for streaming, download, or purchase on a CD.  For more recent recordings, it seemed more helpful to provide the year of the album release.

Obviously, I could only mention a few recordings for each tune, and these choices, to some extent,  reflect my preferences. Like many who perform and study this music, I admire a handful of musicians I feel are absolutely essential to the style: Bessie Smith, Louis Armstrong, Bix Beiderbecke, Jack Teagarden, and Eddie Condon are all near the top of that list. Recordings by these musicians are reliably and consistently good, and you're not likely to be disappointed listening to any of their records. Notable recordings by non-jazz artists are occasionally referred to if there is something significant about them. As for recent recordings, I focused on the very recent and tried to mix them up. There has been an explosion of interest in early jazz over the past 10 years, with no shortage of talented musicians keeping the momentum going. New bands and singers are appearing so quickly that undoubtedly some have not crossed my radar screen. 

Jazz developed into its first maturity during the 20s. Not surprisingly, the music had some strange bedfellows around this time, and any attempt to include only the "real stuff" is doomed to failure. Some would dispute that Paul Whiteman and Ted Lewis were real jazz musicians or that they led jazz bands, but they nevertheless hired and often featured some of the finest jazz musicians of the day. Sophie Tucker, Eddie Cantor, and Gene Austin are even further removed from the jazz purist's mainstream, but you simply can't talk about the early years of jazz without their names coming up. So don't be surprised that their names do come up, and frequently, in Tunes of the Twenties.

When possible, I've included photographs of the sheet music covers for many of the songs. Prior to the 20s, sheet music sales were the primary indicator of a song's popularity. Typically, the covers were illustrated by an artist hired by the publishing firm to depict a scene expressing what the song meant. We have no way of knowing if the songwriters or publishers told artists what to draw, or if the artists were given carte blanche to let their imaginations soar. What we do know is that the covers played some part in telling the public what the song was about. I've also included snippets of the lyrics here and there when helpful. (The complete lyrics to most of the songs can be found in The Real Dixieland Book.) 

Tunes of the Twenties assumes no prior knowledge of the songs, no training in music, and no particular knowledge of jazz and its practitioners. What it does assume is a fascination with the jazz age and the music it produced. Along with that, perhaps a bit of curiosity. Who was Aunt Hagar, Margie, or Rosetta? Why did "good friends always meet" on Basin Street? Where is the St. James Infirmary? Was there a real Baby Face? And just where did Robinson Crusoe go with Friday on a Saturday night? Let's grab some bathtub gin, crank up the Victrola and find out.