Anatomy of A Recording: I Didn’t Know by Jean Goldkette with Bix
Beiderbecke. November 24, 1924.
By Albert Haim
Introduction.
Until 1960, the published
chronologies and biographies of Bix Beiderbecke did not mention his short association
with the Jean Goldkette organization in November-December 1924 in
Where Was Bix in November 1924?
The whereabouts of Bix in
November-December 1924 became firmly established in 1961 when the RCA Victor
LPM-2323 album “The Bix Beiderbecke Legend” was issued with the following
announcement on the front cover of the sleeve, “With this album of Bix records,
all existing Beiderbecke Collections become incomplete. For this set includes
the rarest of all collector’s items … an unplayed, unlisted master recording.
It is I Didn’t Know by the Jean
Goldkette Orchestra, featuring a never-before-available chorus by Bix.”
According to Charles Edward
Smith, who wrote the notes for the LP, “… information from pianist Paul Mertz
confirmed that at the time he left the Wolverines in 1924, Bix had gone on to
We know more now. According to
Evans and Evans, Charlie Horvath, the business manager for the Goldkette
organization, made an offer for Bix to join the Goldkette orchestra in
Bix Beiderbecke’s Signed Document Regarding Transfer of Union
Membership.
Courtesy
The second half of October and
the whole month of November 1924 represented very busy times for Bix. He had to
get used to playing with a larger and more regimented orchestra than he had
been used to when working with the Wolverines. He played nights in the
Graystone Ballroom, and once a week the orchestra had broadcasts over
On this date, portable
Victor recording equipment was brought in the Detroit Athletic Club for a
recording session of the Jean Goldkette Victor recording orchestra. Edward T.
“Eddie” King was the recording director. A copy of the relevant page from the
Victor Recording book is provided here.
Three numbers were recorded:
I Didn’t Know, I Want to See My
Label of Victor 19548.
Signed by Jean Goldkette.
Courtesy of Stephen
Hester.
The First Issue of I Didn’t Know.
Of the numbers recorded by
the Jean Goldkette Victor Recording Orchestra on November 24, 1924, the title
of interest for the present article is I
Didn’t Know. It will be seen in the Victor Recording Book that, for this
selection, three cornets were used: the third man was Bix Beiderbecke.
According to Brad McCuen,
RCA Victor A & R Director, the following was the disposition of the five
takes.
Master B-231206-1 Destroyed
Master B-231206-2 Held for
mastering
Master B-231206-3 Destroyed
Master B-231206-4 Hold
conditional
Master B-231206-5 Hold 30
days
The only master left by 1960
was B-231206-2; it is the only one where the participation of Bix is certain.
It is likely that Bix also played in take 1. However, he may not have played in
the remaining takes. Sudhalter and Evans [6] reported pianist Paul Mertz’s
account of the recording session: “He [recording director Eddie King] didn’t
like that kind of jazz from the very first hearing. He probably tolerated a
couple of takes so as not to be too brutal in yanking away the plum. He then
changed the spot over to Farrar for the Henry Busse type of polite trumpet he
preferred.”
The finding of this master
for an unknown recording of Bix with Goldkette was the result of the unwavering
persistence on the part of Charles Wareing and the remarkable memory of Paul
Mertz, the pianist with Goldkette on the day of the recording of I Didn’t Know. Charles Edward Smith
wrote in the notes for the LP, “The fantastic possibility of the existence of
an early cornet chorus by Bix, one never heard before, spurred an immediate
search. In October 1960, fact was brought into focus when that rarest of all
collector's items in jazz, an unplayed, unlisted master - a Goldkette
performance of I Didn't Know- was
found in the Camden vault." The metal part for take 2, albeit partly
corroded, was turned over to engineer Ed Begley for remastering and transfer. According
to Charles Edward Smith, “I Didn't Know
waited thirty-six years before its re-discovery. Its inclusion here marks the
first time a collector's item of such
rarity has been a feature of a long-play set." Thus, I Didn't Know was issued for the first time in the 1961 “Bix
Beiderbecke Legend” album, RCA Victor LPM-2323.
The release of a heretofore
unknown Bix recording was an event of sufficient historical interest that the
August 20, 1961 edition of New York Times published a piece by music reporter
John S. Wilson with the headline “Beiderbecke Discovery.” “The discovery of a
previously unknown Jean Goldkette recording of 1924 in which Bix Beiderbecke
takes a short solo is presented as the prime selling point of The Bix Beiderbecke Legend (RCA Victor
LPM 2323).” In his review of the album for the Detroit Free Press in August
1961, Josef Mossman wrote, “The music herein recorded makes “The Bix Beiderbecke
Legend” one of the most important jazz releases of recent years.” “Band 2 of
side 1 of the album contains a Beiderbecke chorus of I Didn’t Know, truly a legend come to life.”
Two other releases of I Didn't Know are worth mentioning. One
is found in the 1988 Sunbeam 19-LP set “Sincerely, Bix Beiderbecke.” This set
included all of Bix’s recordings known at the time and they were transferred by
the legendary audio restorer J.R.T. Davies. A polystyrene cast of take 2 was
used by audio engineer Michael Kieffer for the 1995 12-CD set “Bix Restored.”
As the copper master was partially corroded, all transfers have a highly
noticeable (and annoying) swish during the first several seconds.
Vinyl test pressings of I Didn’t Know are owned by several
collectors. Here is a scan of the test pressing won in an early 1990 Nauck’s
auction by Bixophile/collector Joe Giordano. At the time, this was thought to
be the only 78 rpm record in existence of I
Didn't Know.
Other test pressings were
issued in the 1990s and are in the hands of several collectors.
The Composers.
As seen in the listing in the Victor Recording
Book, I Didn't Know was composed by W.
R. Williams (lyrics) and Clarence M. Jones (music), and published by Will
Rossiter in 1922.
The collaboration between Williams and Jones is
fascinating: Clarence M. Jones was an African-American musician; W. R. Williams
was a pseudonym for Will Rossiter, a white Englishman who had immigrated to the
Clarence M.
Jones.
Pianist, composer, band leader and
teacher, Clarence Jones was born on August 15, 1889 in
Between 1917 and 1932, Clarence Jones, at
one time known as the “Sultan of Syncopation, had resident bands in Chicago at
the Owl Theatre, the Avenue Theatre, the Moulin Rouge Café, the Metropolitan Theatre, the
Vendome and the Grand Theater under various names: the Select Orchestra, the Wonder Orchestra, the Syncopators
and the Hot Papas. Louis Armstrong was a member of Clarence Jones’s orchestra
in 1927 and 1928.
Courtesy of the
Jones made piano solo recordings (1923, Autograph), as
well as recordings as the leader of His Wonder and Sock Four Orchestras
(1926-1928, Okeh and Paramount).
Courtesy Rick Kennedy
He also was the accompanist for recordings by Monette Moore (1923,
Paramount), Ollie Powers (1923, Paramount) and Laura Smith (1927, Victor).
From 1925 to 1927, Clarence Jones had a weekly program
over
In 1932, Clarence Jones moved to
In the 1940s, Jones worked
for the W. C. Handy Music Company in
There is some evidence that
Clarence Jones was an influence on Earl Hines. “That Hines knew Jones’s style
well is suggested by vivid parallels between the opening of Hines’s Panther Rag and Jones’s best known work, Modulation.”[8]
Clarence Jones died on June
1, 1949. His obituary in the New York Times edition of June 3, 1949 read, “We
announce with profound sorrow the death of our beloved member and colleague,
Clarence M. Jones, in
Will Rossiter.
Will Rossiter,
From the Rotarian,
July 1927.
Will Rossiter was born in
the medieval town of
After attending a
performance by Billy Scanton in 1891 at the Bijou Theater in
the ballad “Sweet Nellie Bawn.” Rossiter contacted
several publishers, but his song was rejected. He decided to publish the song
himself –which was a huge success– and that was how the Will Rossiter Publishing
Company got its start. [9] He used the pseudonym W. R. Williams as composer.
The following year, Rossiter had the idea of publishing the lyrics of popular
songs in book form. In the next twenty years, millions of these little song
books were sold everywhere – in bookstores, newsstands, theaters, carnival
shows, etc.
Will Rossiter introduced novel marketing techniques
to sell his publications. He is considered to be the first song plugger,
introducing the technique in 1898. In this context, an amusing incident is
reported in the June 10, 1923 edition of the Music Trade Review: “Many years ago
Will Rossiter wrote to Tony Pastor, of the Fourteenth Street Theatre, New York,
stating that he had in his employ a young man that he would like very much to send
on to New York in the interests of his songs. Within a few days Mr. Rossiter
received a letter from the manager of the theatre saying that it would be
perfectly satisfactory to send this man on and that he would give him a tryout
at the theatre with several engagements. Mr. Rossiter acknowledged this letter
by saying that he would send on his young composer and that he would introduce himself
as W. R. Williams. Mr. Williams was then given a tryout and a week's
engagement. At the end of the week he was given another week and so on until he
had worked at that theatre six consecutive weeks, a record which is said has never
since been equaled by any single act. Tony Pastor died without knowing that W.
R. Williams and Will Rossiter were one and the same man.” Thus, Will Rossiter
became the first “song-plugger” and the appearance, for the purpose of
promotion, of song-writers and publishers in theaters singing their own songs
became common practice. In addition to live appearances in theaters, Will
Rossiter went to department stores to demonstrate his publications. Moreover,
he was the first publisher to sing his songs over radio broadcasts.
Will Rossiter published about 2,000 songs between the
1890s and the 1940s. His most successful year in terms of hits was 1910 with
songs such as “Meet Me Tonight in Dreamland,” “Some of These Days,” and
“Mammy’s Shuffle Dance.” The original publication date for “Some of These Days”
was 1910. The July 15, 1922 issue of The Music Trades reported with the headline
Rossiter to Revive “Some of These Days,”
”A Modern Version of This Number Will Be Introduced by Sophie Tucker.”
Cover of 1922 Publication of “Some
of These Days” by Will Rossiter
Another jazz
standard published by the Will Rossiter Publishing Company was “The Darktown
Strutters' Ball (1917).”
The
competition of
Among composers published by Rossiter we find Roy Bargy,
Spencer Williams, Jelly Roll Morton, Gus Kahn and Egbert Van Alstyne. In
the 1951 Gus Kahn biopic “I’ll See You In My Dreams,” character actor Hans
Conried played the role of Will Rossiter. Here is Will Rossiter with Gus Kahn’s
and Egbert Van Alstyne’s wives at a Remembrance Luncheon honoring Gus Kahn.
Courtesy
of Argenta Images.
Using the
pseudonym W. R. Williams, Will Rossiter penned over 500 songs, about 20 % of
the songs published by the Will Rossiter music publishing company. His most
popular composition was “I’d Love to Live in Loveland With A Girl Like You,”
which sold 2 million copies.
Will Rossiter must not be confused with his brother
Harold Rossiter, also a highly successful music publisher. Harold joined his
brother’s publishing house in 1904. The relations between the brothers were not
too cordial and eventually Harold opened his own publishing house with offices
both in
Will Rossiter was still active in the 1950s. At age
85, he was the guest of honor at the 23rd Annual Chicagoland Music
Festival. According to the Blue Island Sun Standard of August 21, 1952, Will
Rossiter “will enter the field in a
buggy and go to the center stage, where he will sing his composition, "I'd
Love to Live in
Will Rossiter died in
A Brief Analysis of I Didn’t Know as Recorded by Jean
Goldkette.
As shown in the Victor
ledgers, the Goldkette orchestra that recorded I Didn’t Know on November 24, 1924 consisted of three cornets (Fred
Farrar, Tex Brewster and Bix Beiderbecke), two
trombones (Bill Rank and Tommy Dorsey), three saxophones (Doc Ryker, Don Murray
and George Williams) violin (Joe Venuti), piano (Paul Mertz), banjo (Howdy
Quicksell), tuba (Irish Henry) and drums (Charles Horvath).
The form of this song is of
the ABAC-32 type. As recorded by Goldkette, it consists of the following
sections [10].
Introduction - 8 bars, band
(1) 32 bars, band
(2) 14 bars, trombone; 2
bars, band; 14 bars, cornet; 2 bars, band
(3) 14 bars, band; 2 bars, trombone; 14 bars, violin; 2 bars,
alto sax
(4) ½ 16 bars, band
Coda - 4 bars, band
The soloists on trombone,
cornet and violin are Tommy Dorsey, Bix Beiderbecke and Joe Venuti
respectively. The 2-bar alto sax break after Venuti’s violin solo is
reminiscent of Frank Trumbauer’s style. Moreover, the next day, November 25,
1924, the same Goldkette contingent of musicians, but without Bix, recorded the
number Play Me Slow. It was stated (liners for the Timeless CD “Jean Goldkette
Bands 1924-29,” CBC 1084), “there is
little doubt that the C-melody or alto saxophone soloist here (Play Me Slow)
is none other than Frank Trumbauer.” It was further suggested that George Williams was a pseudonym “to conceal Trumbauer’s presence” who at the time was a member of Ray Miller’s orchestra in
In a January 1962 review for Gramophone of the RCA Victor
album “The Bix Beiderbecke Legend,” Brian Rust writes about the finding of the
metal master of I Didn’t Know: “This find, buried in the Victor vaults for 37
years, is included on the first of the above LPs —despite a blemish on the
master that causes a vicious swishing sound throughout the first half, but
which fortunately fades out just in time for Bix’s solo. The impression one
receives on hearing it is that this is not Bix at all. Then, after listening to
the tracks by the Wolverines on the Riverside LP—the last two of them made only
six weeks earlier, we realise that this was Bix, playing his first big-band
date and probably somewhat under restraint. The purity of tone is there, but
the reckless, rolling phrases do not tumble out of his cornet as they do on the
Wolverines tracks. He was, in fact, on his best behaviour, but he needn’t have
worried. The company rejected all five attempts at recording the number (it’s
an attractive little melody, by the way, with a half-chorus of Tommy Dorsey’s
trombone just before the Bix solo).”
I am afraid I must disagree
with the late Brian Rust. The cornet solo in Goldkette’s I Didn’t Know is quintessential
Bix: his sensibility and pure tone are omnipresent, his powerful imagination
and characteristic economy of notes are in evidence as are Bix’s contradictory emotions
of optimism and melancholy often found in his cornet solos.
Why Was Take 2 of I Didn’t Know
Rejected?
There are several theories
in the published literature.
1. Bix made an error in a small section of his
solo. According to Charles Edward Smith in “The Bix Beiderbecke Legend”
booklet, “Bix was with the Jean Goldkette orchestra for a happy few days–then
the roof fell in. The cause of the calamity was a recording session held at the
Detroit Athletic Club on November 24, 1924, and a spot by Bix on I Didn’t Know. In the midst of the
solo–tone and style, a beautiful example of his early work–there was a split
second in which he faltered, making this the most poignant Bix chorus of them
all. Eddie King, recording supervisor for Victor, shook his head, assuring that
that particular master would not be pressed for release.” Smith specifies that
“the little uncertainty (fluff) occurs in the second of two little flurries of
notes.”
2. Eddie King was anti-jazz, specifically, he
did not like Bix’s style. Paul Mertz wrote to Philip Evans on August 3,
1958, “Bix had been given a featured spot on the first session. Eddie King, the
Victor recording supervisor, rejected Bix’s solo; he was anti-jazz, and didn’t
like Bix’s work. He preferred Fred Farrar, the first trumpet, whose polite jazz
styling Eddie liked.”[4] Paul Mertz reiterated his opinion of Eddie King in a
letter to Charles Edward Smith, “He [Eddie King] had no sympathy for that kind
of jazz. King indicated that one of the more ‘legitimate’ men should take the
solo spot on the next master.” According to Sudhalter and Evans [6], “He [King] just
didn’t like that kind of jazz from the very first hearing.” Said Mertz. “He
probably tolerated a couple of takes so as not to be too brutal in yanking away
the plum. He then changed the spot over to Farrar for the Henry Busse type of
polite trumpet he preferred.” Paul Mertz provided a similar account of the
recording session when he was interviewed in 1970 by James Robert Grover for
his “Creative Aural Thesis.” [11] “After the first take, Eddie King gave us a
disgruntled look. He said to Jean Goldkette, ‘He doesn’t play the kind of jazz
trumpet that we, at Victor records, want. We just don’t want that kind of jazz.
We want the Busse type of jazz.’ One master that Bix made was retained on
condition that we make an alternate take with Freddy Farrar playing a hot solo
in the Busse style.”
3. Bix fumbled his ensemble parts. Music teacher and Jean Goldkette specialist Frank van Nus
(
Before examining the merits
of the various theories advanced above, it is necessary to bring up some
information about Eddie King as recording director. It is well known that Eddie
King was an irascible individual. Witnesses comments transcribed in footnotes
13-15 demonstrate this. In addition, Eddie King was extremely demanding. Note that the success
rate of the recordings made on November 24 and 25, 1924 by the Jean Goldkette
orchestra was minuscule. Six numbers were recorded. They are listed here with
the number of takes.
I Didn’t Know – 5 takes
I Want to See My
Remember – 5 takes
Adoration – 4 takes
Play Me Slow – 4 takes
Honest and Truly – 4 takes
What’s the Use of Dreaming – 4 takes
Of a total of thirty takes, only four were issued (I Want to See My Tennessee, take 4; Remember, take 3; Play Me
Slow, take 3; What’s the Use of
Dreaming, take 4) for a meager
yield of about 7 %.
This piece of statistical
information must be viewed in context. In late November and early December
1924, Eddie King visited three cities with Victor portable recording equipment:
Although King may not have
been “anti-jazz,” it is apparent that Bix’s trumpet style was not what King and
Victor were looking for in their recordings. As indicated above, Mertz
recounted –on four different occasions- King’s dislike of Bix’s type of jazz.
This was confirmed by arranger Bill Challis. “King and the other powers at
Victor did not seem to appreciate Beiderbecke. They could take Henry Busse and
his Hot Lips –that sort of thing- but they never took any of the style of
Beiderbecke.” [16] When interviewed by Brigitte Berman for her documentary film
“Bix: Ain’t None of Them Play Like Him Yet,” Mertz stated, “The first number
came up; Bix took his solo. Eddie King who was, I guess, the biggest wig in the
whole Victor organization and who guided their policy said: ‘I don’t know about
this Bix; that’s not the kind of jazz we like. I don’t get it.’ And the spots
we had for Bix were taken out.” It is clear from the accounts by Mertz and
Challis that Eddie King and Victor policy favored sweet and novelty trumpet
work, not the kind of improvised jazz practiced by Bix. Descriptions of
recordings found in the “New Victor Records” supplement from June 1, 1924 confirm
Victor policy. [17-20] Therefore, the general objection of King and Victor to
Bix’s kind of jazz would explain the fact that takes 1 and 2 of I Didn’t Know were not issued.
But questions remain. There were 5 takes of I Didn’t Know. Takes 1 and 3 were destroyed. Takes 4 and 5 were
held and never issued. Take 2, with Bix’s solo, was held and issued in 1960. As
documented above, King replaced Bix by Farrar for takes 3-5, with Farrar playing
the bland style of jazz that Victor and Eddie King favored. If Bix was replaced
by Fuzzy Farrar in subsequent takes (3-5), why were those rejected/held and
never issued? Whatever the reasons, they had nothing to do with Bix playing a
hot solo in a style that displeased Eddie King.
Today, 89 years after the five takes of I
Didn’t Know were cut, with only one surviving, it is unlikely that we are
going to find a definitive answer as to why none of the five takes was issued
in 1924. Perhaps several circumstances combined to trigger Eddie King’s
decision. In the initial chorus of take 2, Bix’s line tends to dominate
Farrar’s first trumpet, a fairly serious problem. Although I do not detect a
major error in Bix’s later solo, there may be an awkward moment at one point.
It is also possible that there were technical problems in the actual mechanics
of the later takes, and that the musicianship was not a factor. Perhaps King’s
anger over Bix’s solo in the first two takes lingered, and he was so disgusted
that he also discarded all subsequent takes. I don’t think we will ever know.
Acknowledgments. I thank Robert Rothberg for illuminating discussions and for
information about George Williams. David Sager kindly sent scans of the June 1,
1924 New Victor Records Supplement.
[1] “Bix Beiderbecke” by
Burnett James, one of the volumes in the Kings of Jazz Series, Cassell &
Company Limited,
[2] “Bugles for Beiderbecke”
by Charles H. Wareing and George Garlick, Sidgwick and Jackson Limited,
[3] “Wolverine Days” by George Johnson, Swing
Magazine, Fall 1936. (Reprinted in “Frontiers of Jazz” by Ralph Toledano.)
[4] “Bix, The Leon
Beiderbecke Story” by Philip R. Evans and Linda K. Evans, Prelike Press,
[5] The next day, November
25, 1924, the Jean Goldkette Victor Recording Orchestra waxed four additional
titles, Adoration, Play Me Slow, Honest and Truly and What’s
the Use of Dreaming? Bix participated only in the first number, a
semi-symphonic arrangement for two trumpets that Bix loved. According to Paul
Mertz, Bix “begged them to have a third part added. King and Horvath went along
with the notion and a third trumpet part was cued in. Bix made the record and
was elated!”
[6] "Bix.
Man and Legend" by Richard M. Sudhalter and Philip R. Evans with
Discography by William Dean-Myatt,
[7] “Clarence M. Jones (1889-1949) – Almost Forgotten (But Not Quite)” by
Rick Kennedy, 78 Quartely, No. 9, 1995.
[8] “Earl
“Fatha” Hines - Selected
piano solos, 1928-1941 (Music of the
[9] “Will Rossiter-Popular
Publisher of Popular Songs” by Taylor Erwin Gauthier, The Rotarian, July, 1927.
[10] “The Bix Bands, Bix
Beiderbecke, disco-biography” by Vittorio Castelli, Evert (Ted) Kaleveld and
Liborio Pusateri, Raretone,
[11] http://ic.sunysb.edu/Faculty/alhaim/audiotapes.htm
[12] http://www.network54.com/Forum/27140
[13] “After he [an efficiency expert] left, Mr. King,
who had an explosive temper, came to my room and said, ‘What do you think that
damned fool asked me? He asked me how many people are employed in our
[14] “Eddie King, the recording director, passed by.
‘What the hell have you got there?’ King gasped. ‘No, no, it can’t be! Don. Don
Bestor. Where are you? We’ll have to cancel the date.
While Don and King were in his office, I asked one of the recording engineers,
‘What’s eating old laughing boy?’ He smiled and said, “Don’t let the old
seahorse disturb you too much.’ Many musicians didn’t like to record for Victor
because King was so tough.” “Tram; The
Frank Trumbauer Story,” The Scarecrow Press, Inc.,