The Murder Machine

The Murder Machine

I’d like to introduce an interesting and unusual song sent to me by a band called Yearning Curve. Instead of interpreting an archived song, they’ve used snippets of the text from Pádraig Pearse’s 1914 essay ‘The Murder Machine’ in a new composition. Pearse’s essay on the inequities of the Irish education system and the dysfunctional realities of imperialism and occupation can be read in full on UCC’s Corpus of Electronic Texts. Yearning Curve’s version of ‘The Murder Machine’ also includes modern-day sound-bites, painting a sound-picture of an Ireland swathed in corruption, still offering up its young to an indifferent imperial ruling class a hundred years after Pearse’s essay. In this post, Bairbre from Yearning Curve tells me a bit more about ‘The Murder Machine’…


 

“A machine vast, complicated, with a multitude of far-reaching arms, with many ponderous presses, carrying out mysterious and long-drawn processes of shaping and moulding…”
– Patrick Pearse,
The Murder Machine (1914)

‘The Murder Machine’ is the title track from our debut album inspired by Patrick Pearse’s book, ‘The Murder Machine’ (1914).

Using lines from Pearse’s book, samples from the infamous bankers tapes, Vincent Browne in full flight and Bertie Ahern on the steps of Dáil Éireann, we wanted to explore the idea of ‘The Murder Machine’ and the relevance of it in our time.

Although Pearse’s book deals mainly with the early 20th century education system, ‘The Murder Machine’ of the corporate world is surely as oppressive as anything the imperialist world could dream up as we struggle daily with the grinders of poverty, inequality and conformity.

I read somewhere once that Bertie Ahern kept a photo of Pearse on his desk and the irony of that couldn’t be lost on those who are living in the Ireland that Ahern and his policy-makers have left behind. The ‘Murder Machine’ song is some attempt to reclaim our history in the spirit of those who visioned a fair and free future for all of us. Kind of like Jinx Lennon, but not funny. 

Listen here:
https://soundcloud.com/yearningcurve/themurdermachine
Album out May 1st:
https://soundcloud.com/yearningcurve/the-murder-machine
—–

What is ‘The Murder Machine’? 
The personal and political meathooks, 
the myriad ways we can be ground up? 
And why make music about it?

—–
http://www.breakingtunes.com/yearningcurve
http://www.facebook.com/yearningcurve
http://www.twitter.com/yearningcurve

Advertisements

Creation vs Destruction

Creation vs Destruction

‘I Cannot Sing the Old Songs’
sung by Richard José in 1905. The 1914 version by Louise Homer unfortunately can’t be embedded in WordPress.

So far, every musician I’ve talked to has been very positive about the idea of reinterpreting archived material. But I’ve received zero submissions so far (apart from this one on this blog post, which was great). To be perfectly honest, I haven’t been as dynamic and forthright about promoting this idea as I could have been. I’ve been absorbed in my studies, and of course in the other areas of this project – listening to archived music, researching the people who wrote and performed it, and recording new versions of some of the songs I’ve stumbled across so far. The idea behind this blog, musicians, is that you can make something really creative and worthwhile by digging in the archives and finding any song recorded or published in 1914 that you like enough to learn, perform, arrange and record. Maybe you just want to sing it to the camera on your computer. Or maybe you want to record a video of a choral group in a cathedral performing a song you’ve found for them (if I don’t do that first). Maybe you’ll have your own imaginative ideas. There are many music archive resources available online, and a Music Resources section on this blog. You can do it in your own style, and put your own spin on it. Then you could write something about the experience, or any historical context you found interesting, or just your thoughts on the song.

In order to demonstrate to you that this idea has potential, I’ve done two different versions of an old song. I found it on the National Jukebox website, as sung by Louise Homer in 1914. The song predates that by some time since its writer and composer, Claribel, died in 1869. ‘Claribel’ was the pseudonym of Charlotte Alington Barnard, an English poet and composer of ballads and hymns. ‘I Cannot Sing the Old Songs’ couldn’t be a more fitting song for this project.

I Cannot Sing the Old Songs (Traditional Arrangement)

Initially I recorded a pretty minimal piano version, quite faithful to the original, then I added an organ and some harmonies. I came back to it a week later and some subversive impulse compelled me to put a slightly discordant bluesy guitar line over the last verse. I kept remixing the song, changing my mind back and forth as to whether to keep the electric guitar. Hearing the subversive melody so often, I started to sing along with it. Eventually another subversive idea occurred to me – to re-record the song using this as the vocal melody, with minor chords and heavy distortion. I have a bit of a history with this kind of thing. I used to do a minor version of Amazing Grace with my band. And I uploaded Minor Silent Night with new lyrics to YouTube on Christmas Eve a few years back. I’ve also written new music for Shakespearean poetry, perhaps his first foray into synth-rock. Some may see this as sacrilege. But I think reinterpretation helps to keep art alive. That’s valid even if you don’t happen to like what I’ve done with it.

Of course, musical taste is a hugely subjective thing. I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently. When I deconstruct a song and put it back together in my own style, it’s as much an act of destruction as it is a creative act. The listener’s personal taste determines my guilt or innocence. Have I befouled a sacred piece of art? Or have I reinvented and reinvigorated it? There are enough opinions out there for both views to be perfectly valid. These thoughts of individual aesthetic preferences, of creation and destruction, informed my new mix of ‘I Cannot Sing the Old Songs’.

I Cannot Sing the Old Songs (Creation vs Destruction Mix)

I went for heavy distortion and heavy emotion, encoded and compressed with destructive algorithms, ready for this digital realm of infinite distraction. I’ve been studying Audio Processing this term, and I’m kind of shocked to get down to the nuts and bolts of just how destructive these audio codecs are, especially the MP3. My immediate reaction to it, as evidenced by this mix, has been to process every signal with distortion and other effects, so there’s no acoustic fidelity left for the codec to destroy. Instead I tried to make the digital seem visceral, keeping it decidedly lo-fi, awash with feedback and noise – evoking the hiss and fuzz of my teenage practice rooms half a lifetime ago, which in turn tied me in to the theme of the song and its emotional core. I think my emotional response to the material is evident in my vocal performance (or what’s left of it with all that distortion).

Hundred Years Late on Bandcamp

The image I used for the cover is in the public domain and attribution details are included in a post entitled Designing Hundred Years Late. You can also click the image above to check out Hundred Years Late on Bandcamp, a wonderful website that facilitates musicians in the sharing of their work. I hope to upload many more songs in the coming months.

It’s a very different approach from the one I took to all the 1914 songs I’ve recorded so far. I had been keeping it to bass / drums / piano / vocals, with occasional organ, guitar and ukulele. This song sounds like a spaceship landed in the playlist. It’s brash, obnoxious, incongruous, subversive. And like the guitar line that spawned it, I’m still ambivalent about whether it belongs there, whether it is in fact creativity or a manifestation of a darkly destructive impulse. As I trace the map of ideas and influences back through my own thoughts, of all the things that fed into this reinterpretation, objectivity becomes impossible. I’m never entirely sure my own subversive aesthetic preferences will resonate with other people. I’ll continue to vacillate, I expect, and I’ll keep working on writing a masters thesis that gets to the bottom of these and other questions. For now, there’s these songs, this project, this open call to musicians. Like it or not, you’ve got to admit you didn’t expect this from a ballad written in the 1800s. Musicians, are you starting to see the potential here?

Vintage Artwork – Part 2

Vintage Artwork Part 2

This is the second in a series of posts featuring some of the front cover artwork from vintage sheet music. Some of the artwork dates from the 1920s but I’ve only included songs for which I can find a period recording c. 1914. When we see the photographs and movies of a hundred years ago, black and white images were all that the technology allowed. We see them now tinged with sepia tones. The medium of print was streets ahead and the vibrant palette in this artwork shows that life was just as colourful back then. Many of the songs in this and the last vintage artwork post are available online from Duke University’s Historic American Sheet Music collection. I’ve also included links to National Jukebox’s collections for many of the names of the writers and performers mentioned here.

Way Down on Tampa Bay
Lyrics by A. Seymour Brown, Music by Egbert Van Alstyne
performed by Owen J. McCormack in 1915

I couldn’t find any more details about this recording, I’d be curious to know the identity of the female vocalist. This beautiful front cover illustration evokes the imagery of the chorus.

My Melancholy Baby
Lyrics By George A. Norton, Music by Ernie Burnett
performed by Walter Van Brunt

Though the sheet music was originally published in 1912, this recording was made in 1915. The cover below is from a later reprinting in the 1920s with an autographed photo of Gene Austin. I like the blue and white rhomboid patterns on the cover, and the illustration of the woman is excellent, the merest hint of melancholy around her eyes.

The Chevy Chase Fox-Trot
by Eubie Blake

This is the same Eubie Blake who played piano in Europe’s Society Orchestra. The clarity of the sound recording is quite remarkable, considering that it was made a hundred years ago. Someone’s obviously gone to some trouble to clean it up and restore it. I found this version on The Internet Archive. Eubie Blake’s piano playing is fantastic, this highly inventive ragtime piece features some unusual stops and rhythmic quirks. It’s well worth checking out the sheet music over on Duke University’s Historic American Sheet Music collection, for those inclined.

Camp Meeting Band
Lyrics by L. Wolfe Gilbert, Music by Lewis F. Muir
performed by Arthur Collins and Byron G. Harlan

Collins and Harlan were popular singers, known mainly for their humorous songs. This song features a spoken word sketch halfway through. This artwork probably dates from later than this recording, as you can tell from the inset photograph of Eddie Cantor whose career hadn’t begun yet when this recording was made in 1914. I didn’t think I knew who Eddie Cantor was, but it turns out I’ve seen a fictitious portrayal of him as a recurring character in the HBO series Boardwalk Empire. This song fits neatly into that impression of him, the sing-song comic delivery, the jaunty style of the humorous song. I suspect Collins and Harlan were his all-time heroes, so it’s no surprise he later covered this song. The use of the term ‘darkies’ should make modern audiences squirm a little… Yes, true, the preacher speaks grand. Hear what he has to say, then hear them darkies play. It’s a term that now sounds antiquated and a bit wrong. But at least they’re saying that they’re ‘the best band in the land’. It’s actually quite shocking the amount of casual racism I’ve stumbled across in the archives. When I’m browsing on National Jukebox and I see ‘Ethnic characterizations’ in the description, alarm bells go off.

Saint Louis Blues
by W.C. Handy

The typography on this cover is excellent. W.C. Handy also featured in my last post about vintage artwork. He was one of the first well-known proponents of the blues, a highly influential figure. One of these days I’ll get around to writing a proper post about him. In the meantime, enjoy the Saint Louis Blues.

You Made Me Love You, I Didn’t Want to Do it
Lyrics by Joe McCarthy, Music by James V. Monaco
performed by Al Jolson

My personal favourite from today’s selection of artwork features an illustration of a woman with tears running down her reddened cheeks. I don’t know why, but I find the title kind of funny as well. Al Jolson’s vocals are amazing.

If you enjoyed this post, be sure to check out Vintage Artwork Part 1.

Castle House Rag

Castle House Rag

‘Castle House Rag’
by Europe’s Society Orchestra.
______

Victor Record Label

The title ‘Castle House Rag’ seems to be used more often for this composition, though Victor released this as ‘The Castles in Europe One-Step’. Notice how it says on the label ‘Recorded under the personal supervision of Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Castle’.
______

Europe with his military band

Lieutenant “Jim” Europe
with members of his military band c. 1918.

Sometimes a narrative reveals itself to you when you’re digging around in the archives. It’s a fascinating way to come upon a story. Since songs are the focus of this blog, it always starts with a song. This song sets the scene as the story behind it unfolds. We find ourselves in a room in New York in February 1914 with James Reese Europe and his orchestra, Europe’s Society Orchestra. Presumably there’s a phonograph operator or technician to oversee the recording. There’s also an Englishman, Vernon Castle, and his wife, New Yorker Irene Castle, a couple famed for invigorating the popularity of modern dancing in the 1910s.

James Reese Europe was a leading figure in the New York black theatre music scene. He played piano in many bands and composed music and songs for many theatrical productions. In 1910 he founded the Clef Club, which established its own orchestra and chorus but also served as a union and contracting agency for black musicians, with as many as 200 men on its roster. He was known as a tireless innovator for his composition and orchestration, but also for his natural leadership and organisational ability. His music borrowed from and built upon African-American folk music, incorporating elements of ragtime and other contemporary styles – his name is often mentioned when people discuss the beginnings of jazz. He firmly believed that black musicians did not need to play or imitate white music, though they respected any music of quality. Instead they had their own musical tradition and their own musical style which people of all races would want to hear. His orchestra, sometimes as large as 125 musicians, included banjos and mandolins and presented music exclusively by black composers. In May 1912 The Clef Club Orchestra performed a ‘Concert of Negro Music’ in Carnegie Hall. It was a resounding success. The Clef Club was instrumental in changing attitudes towards black musicians, negotiating better salaries and working conditions for its members. The Clef Club Orchestra played in Carnegie Hall again in 1913 and 1914. As their reputation grew, it became quite enviable for New York’s high society to boast a genuine Clef Club orchestra at a social event.

Click to view a larger version of this image in another tab

This breaking down of racial barriers was expedited when Europe met Vernon and Irene Castle at such a social event in 1913. Famous and sought-after dancers, popularisers of modern dance, the Castles were excited and intrigued by the syncopated rhythms and unique sound of the group’s instrumentation. They made Europe their musical director and insisted on using Clef Club musicians in all their engagements, even in those venues which were not welcoming to black people. Their visibility and popularity made Jim Europe and his music very famous across all strata of society, this was a great catalyst in further changing attitudes towards black musicians. When Europe’s Society Orchestra entered the studios of Victor Talking Machine Company on December 29, 1913, it was the first ever recording of a black orchestra.

Europe’s association with the Castles continued until Vernon Castle joined England’s war effort as an airman with the Royal Flying Corps in 1916. While serving in Europe, he completed 300 combat missions. Flying over the Western Front in 1917, he shot down two aircraft and was awarded the Croix de Guerre. He was posted to the U.S. to train American pilots and died near Fort Worth, Texas on February 15, 1918, aged 30, in an aviation accident.

Some modern cover versions
of ‘Castle House Rag’…

MIDI version – YouTube user johnvuc
______

Western Piedmont Symphony, July 2012
______

performed by The Crown Syncopators

In late 1916, Europe joined the newly formed 15th Infantry (Colored) of the New York National Guard. Commissioned a machine gun regiment lieutenant, he was soon asked to join the regimental band. He became bandleader, recruiting musicians and shaping their sound. The band became the 369th New York Regimental Band, the “Harlem Hellfighters”. According to The Parlor Songs Academy: On New Year’s Day 1918, Europe stepped off a troop ship onto French soil at the port city of Brest, where, in the midst of cheering crowds, he led the band in the playing of the French national anthem, “The Marseilles”, although at first those gathered on the dock did not recognize the tune due to Europe’s unique arrangement. The band was received so enthusiastically that officials sent it on a tour of France, entertaining troops and citizens.

There followed a series of concerts with the greatest marching bands of France, Britain and Italy. Performances were often staged in hospitals to boost morale among wounded soldiers. After this tour, James Europe himself saw combat assigned to the French Army’s 16th Division in the Argonne Forest. This is related in Noble Sissle’s Memoirs of Lieutenant “Jim” Europe, in a passage from a letter contributed by Colonel William Hayward, Jim Europe’s commanding officer: A statement of Lieutenant Europe’s service would not be complete if confined to the work he did as the organizer and leader of this famous band. For many months he occupied the dual position of leader of the band, and officer of a machine gun company. When the regiment went into action in March, 1918, Lieutenant Europe was an officer of the machine gun company of the battalion which first went into the trenches, and as such was beyond all doubt the first Negro officer under fire in this great war.

Harlem Hellfighters in action. This image displays the action at Séchault, France on September 29, 1918 during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. Image from Wikipedia

On February 12th, 1919, the 15th Infantry returned to New York. They were honoured with a parade on February 17th, greeted by thousands of people, black and white, as they marched through the city. The band’s music could scarcely be heard above the roar of the crowd as they marched up Fifth Avenue. After this, Jim Europe set about booking a triumphant homecoming tour for the 369th New York Regimental Band. It was on this tour that Jim Europe met his untimely end, having survived the First World War unscathed.

New York Tribune, Front Page,
May 10, 1919.
Click to view on Chronicling America
(National Library of Congress Newspaper Archive)

Extract from Chapter 1 of
Noble Lee Sissle’s
Memoirs of Lieutenant “Jim” Europe

“Lieutenant Europe – we have little hopes for your recovering, our only possible means of saving your life is by an operation. If you have anything to say you must say it now.”

“I’ve nothing to say – I’ll get along all right,” very feebly answered the band master as he lay on the operating table in the emergency room of the Boston City Hospital, where he had been rushed after being stabbed in the neck, by his protégé drummer boy. During the Intermission of the opening concert of a three day engagement which was to mark the end of a triumphant ten weeks trans-continental tour. Just then the door of the operating room softly opened and Herbert Wright, handcuffed to a plain clothes man, was ushered into the room.

“Lieutenant Europe, is this the boy that stabbed you?” quietly asked the officer in charge of the assassin;

“Yes; that is Herbert, but don’t lock him up; for he’s a good boy – just got a little excited tonight.”

“But, Lieutenant Europe;” urged the chief surgeon, “you are in a serious condition and we’ve little hopes of saving you. If you have anything to say, you must say it now, We have hardly any hopes of your recovery. How do you feel about it?”

“I have nothing to say, I’ll get along all right. Herbert didn’t mean to do it – just hot-headed – go ahead and operate – I’ll get well.”

The doctors speedily administered the ether to their fastly weakening patient, for the operation, the operation from which Lieutenant Jim Europe never regained consciousness.

James Reese Europe died on May 9, 1919. New York City honoured him with a public funeral, another first for a black American, and he was buried with military honors in Arlington National Cemetery. He left behind a wife, Willie Angrom Starke, and a son (named James Reese Europe Jr) through a relationship with entertainer Bessie Simms. Eubie Blake, African-American composer, lyricist and pianist with Europe’s Society Orchestra later said of him, “He was our benefactor and inspiration. Even more, he was the Martin Luther King of music.”

According to James Reese Europe’s biography on Jass.com,
James Reese Europe unknowingly influenced a future songwriting great: In 1905, when he was seven years old, George Gershwin sat on the curb outside Baron Wilkin’s nightclub in Harlem for hours listening to Europe play.

Hellfighter Noble Sissle, who worked closely with Europe and with Blake after Europe’s death wrote Memoirs of Lieutenant “Jim” Europe, which can be viewed on American Memory by the U.S. National Library of Congress. This work has been invaluable to me, helping me understand the times Jim Europe lived through and appreciate the extraordinary character of the man. It’s only available on American Memory as TIFF files. I’d like to digitize it and release it for free on Project Gutenberg, make it more widely available and accessible. So far my inquiries as to the copyright status have yielded no concrete answers. Sissle died in 1975, but the typed manuscript has been in the possession of the National Library of Congress since 1942. This unpublished manuscript may well date from as far back as 1920. If anyone has any further information or knows the copyright status, please get in touch.

Designing Hundred Years Late

This project has allowed me to develop my skills in a number of areas. The project involved a lot of research, critical listening, sound engineering, musicianship, video production and writing. But today I want to talk about design. There are plenty of blogs that discuss style and design, but these are key elements of every blog and website. Every blogger is a web designer, like it or not. And we should take care with our efforts, knowing it may form the basis of an opinion about us (good or bad) before anyone even reads or engages with our ‘content’. Here I’m going to outline my approach to designing this project.

Font fetishism. It’s a thing. You may even be prone to it yourself. Given the vintage nature of the material being discussed on this blog, I browsed through hundreds of retro fonts before finding Pyriform Tones NF and Little Lord Fontleroy (of which Fontleroy Brown is the plain variation). These fonts were designed by Nick Curtis. Surely everyone can relate to my experience, seeing Hundred Years Late (or whatever’s in your bag) in all those different fonts, finally settling on the one that seemed to set the right tone, inexplicably looking proportionally perfect when all the others somehow didn’t. I put some thought and care into finding two fonts that didn’t just look good but complemented each other and looked good together. A slapdash ill-conceived logo can completely alienate the font fetishists, they’re a particularly discerning demographic (and I’m one of them).

These little inset boxes with supplemental information are a key design and layout feature of this blog. In HTML, they’re called DIVs. Since the Twitter Feed widget came in ‘light’ or ‘dark’, I decided to use the ‘dark’ colour as the background colour for my DIVs, it’s nice when things match. I also noticed the widget’s rounded corners, a neatly elegant and subtle little feature that I also decided to imitate. My enthusiasm for the ‘border-radius’ property of the ‘style’ attribute saw me going back and retro-coding it into DIVs and images in all my previous posts. It’s such an appropriate little idiosyncrasy to appear as a design feature in this blog, suggesting the softened edges of history following years of erosion.

Then there were the colours to consider. Again, a retro feel seemed so appropriate as to be inevitable, muted sepia tones were the natural choice. This WordPress theme, Coraline, only has a few colour schemes which made the choice extremely easy – this shade of brown, take it or leave it. Actually I quite like it. I decided to carry on the same colours in the graphics on the header and for the title of each blog post, camouflaging them in the theme’s colours. The colours used on the Twitter page and the Bandcamp page can afford to be a bit more exciting and extravagant, a bit more high-contrast retro. The muted colours on the blog are intentionally easy on the eye, such that if anyone were to sit down and read the whole thing in one sitting, their rods and cones wouldn’t be completely fried. Each post was given a title graphic, mostly to break up the blog entries in a more visual way when they all load on the main page, but it has the added bonus of reinforcing the visual character of the project, and revealing more letters in that charming font face – I don’t believe you’ve seen an ‘x’ yet, it’s quite lovely, I hope I will have cause to use it soon. In the meantime, you can admire how the ampersand looks like a treble clef. What could be more perfect for Hundred Years Late? Thanks, Nick.

When it came to designing individual pieces of album artwork for the songs I’ve recorded and uploaded on Bandcamp so far, I decided to break out of the ‘retro’ mould and explore another theme of this project – reinterpretation, reappropriation, remixing, mashing-up, public domain, open source, free-culture. I wanted a splash of colour and so I visited Wikimedia Commons to reappropriate and remix some of its crowdsourced resources, one of the world’s greatest gifts to itself.

Being happy with the fonts I’d chosen, I was confident that the thematic unity they lend would tie all the artwork together, no matter how disparate the images used. This set the scene for a kind of visual free association, using literal (and abstract) search terms and browsing to find public domain images that would satisfactorily represent each song. The Monotone, to complement the song, prompted quite a faded, desaturated, sepia edit of a picture of a church bell. I Want to Be Like Jesus features a Crucifixion statue photographed from below against a bright blue sky, bringing some colour to these pages and heralding this blog’s vibrant mission to rediscover, remix, re-edit, and reinterpret our history and shared culture across multiple media and, crucially, to encourage others to do so as well. I’ll leave you with a few other images. They contain spoilers – titles of songs I’ve yet to record! See if you can find them in the archives…

Click on any of the images in this post to view the original image and attribution on Wikimedia Commons. Thanks again to Nick Curtis for producing such wonderful fonts.

Vintage Artwork – Part 1

Vintage Artwork Part 1

This will be the first in a series of posts where I’ll be displaying some of the wonderful front cover artwork from the published sheet music of a hundred years ago (most of these songs were published or recorded in 1914). It’s been a real pleasure going through these images. The typography and illustrations of this era are beautiful and fascinating. So far I’ve only selected artwork for which I can also include a period recording. I hope you enjoy it.

The Yellow Dog Rag
by W.C. Handy

The cover is vibrant red, there’s yellow in the title, and the song is written by W.C. Handy, a man often credited with popularising the blues. Now there’s a colourful story.

The Rose of the Mountain Trail
performed by The Peerless Quartet

This version is sung by Peerless Quartet. The lovely illustration sets the tone for the song.

You Broke My Heart to Pass the Time Away
performed by Manuel Romain

O! The cruel vagaries of love! Such a wonderfully melodramatic song. The wide-brimmed hat of the cold-hearted woman on the cover seems to say… Don’t get too close.

Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm
performed by Albert H. Campbell and Irving Gillette

Though this version is sung by Albert H. Campbell and Henry Burr (credited here as Irving Gillette), the beautifully illustrated sheet music artwork features a photographic inset of popular singing duo The Manson Twins.

In the Palace of Dreams
performed by Helen Clark and Emory B. Randolph

The front cover artwork features singer and actress Reine Davies.

Canadian Music Archive Resource – The Virtual Gramophone

Press play.

Are we rolling?

Harry McDonough and Raymond Dixon perform in an a cappella recording of ‘It Was a Lover and His Lass’ from Shakespeare’s ‘As You Like It’. The credited composer is Thomas Morley (1557-1602).

______

Elsie Baker singing ‘One Sweetly Solemn Thought’.

______

Paul Dufault performing ‘When Twilight Comes’ by Anton Strelezki.

______

Albert P. Quesnel sings this French-language Easter song, ‘Hosanna’. Music composed by Jules Granier. Poem by Julien Eugéne H. Didiée.

______

This recording features The BlackFeet Tribe, the same Navajo Indians recorded by Geoffrey O’Hara as discussed in previous post ‘Navajo Indian Songs’. This is their ‘Gambler’s Song’, performed by Medicine Bull, Sleeps Long Time, and Big Top.

______

The song at the top of the entry is ‘The Maple Leaf Forever’ performed by Knickerbocker Quartet and New York Military Band. All the songs featured here were recorded or released in 1914.

Columbia Mixed Quartet will play us out with ‘O, Canada’.

I visited Canada a few years ago. It was late 2008 and it was beautiful. There were red maple leaves everywhere. And I saw a squirrel. Earlier this year I visited Canada again, this time it was in 1914. While researching Canadian tenor Henry Burr, I discovered a wonderful resource of Canadian recordings online. The Virtual Gramophone project was discontinued in 2006, with only sporadic updates since then. There’s a lot of good stuff there, and plenty of material from 1914. It’s a pity it’s not still being added to regularly, the recordings available on The Virtual Gramophone represent only a portion of the 78-rpm and cylinders collection held by Library and Archives Canada. There’s good music in collections all over the world, music that’s being preserved but not enjoyed. I hope some discussion around archives might revive projects like The Virtual Gramophone. Musicians can cover some of these Canadian gems from 1914 to show that the archives are still relevant, a hundred years later. I’ve enjoyed lending my ear to these voices from history, and I’ve picked out some highlights. If listening to these songs isn’t enough for you, there’s loads more that you can discover for yourself.

On The Virtual Gramophone there are biographies of prominent Canadian performers of the time, chronologies of sound recording technologies and the sound recording industry, and collections such as ‘Songs of The First World War‘. According to the ‘About’ page on the site… In choosing the titles for digitization, only those recordings having Canadian content, such as a performer, composer or lyricist were digitized. Recordings where the music and lyrics are still under copyright in Canada or for which the copyright status could not be determined are not available on The Virtual Gramophone. In other words, it’s all in the public domain just waiting to be enjoyed by modern audiences and rediscovered by modern musicians. That’s what music is for.

Due to the nature of Hundred Years Late (the focus on a specific year), I had to find a hack to search The Virtual Gramophone by year. If you click on Search/Advanced Search and enter a comma between inverted commas as a search field and Year = 1914, you can browse the content available from that year.

Now if only you could find a link to The Virtual Gramophone!