This page contains a small selection of the many articles which have appeared in Memory Lane over the years. The idea is to give you a flavour of what we cover and the quality of our contributors.

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The articles below are placed in alphabetical order and are about the following personalities:

Count Basie

Ivy Benson

Steve Conway

George Elrick

Reginald Foresythe Discography

Ted Heath

Mary Lee

Anne Lenner

Felix Mendelssohn

Jack Plant

Buddy Rich

The Starita Brothers

Jay Wilbur

Count Basie -

When the Count Outshone the Rain

By Tony Parker

Almost everyone can remember the first time that they saw one of the great American bands in action in this country, when they were allowed to visit after the lifting of the notorious Anglo-American Musicians' ban in the 1950s. My recollection, although perhaps a little different than most, is every bit as relevant. In my case it wasn't so much the exciting prospect of seeing and hearing the great Count Basie orchestra in action, on a cold, wet and windy November night at the City Hall, Sheffield, in 1958, but more a question of whether or not I'd be able to get into this marvelous South Yorkshire venue. Also, it wasn't that I didn't have a front-stall ticket. I did. In fact, that night I had more tickets than I could handle. Intrigued? Then let me elucidate.

As a band-loving teenager, and living in a town that was starved of such attractions, I used to organise sold-out, 35-seat coach trips (charabancs as they were known in those days), to the various venues that were within easy reach - such as the Free Trade Hall and Belle Vue, both in Manchester and Sheffield's City Hall. These successful trips enabled my 'customers' to see, among others, stalwarts such as Stan Kenton, Woody Herman, Duke Ellington and Lionel Hampton. When it came to booking a coach to see Count Basie, it was a different story altogether.

For weeks in advance, many came and booked seats for the Sheffield show; nearer to the date, however, many dropped out for various reasons. On the night of the concert I realised that if things didn't improve I was going to be stuck with about fifteen, 30 bob (£1.50) tickets on my hands. Well, things didn't improve and I was, in fact, left with those tickets as we arrived in Sheffield.

Standing on the steps of the City Hall, with a fistful of unsold tickets made me look nothing more that a tout. However, on a more positive note, and as luck would have it, there were many enthusiasts who did turn up that night without tickets, and were only too glad to take them off my hands - even though I did have to reduce the price. In fact, those £1.50 tickets were given away at the ridiculous bargain price of ten bob (50p). Imagine seeing Count Basie for 50p! What a bargain, eh? And the upshot was that I managed to flog them off in time to see the concert commence.

There on stage at the piano, and fronting his legendary 17 piece orchestra, was one of the greatest pioneers of big-band music, William 'Count' Basie - a leading figure of the swing era who, alongside Duke Ellington, was a true representative of the genre. Born in Red Bank, New Jersey, on August 21, 1904, Basie was not only a pianist of the highest order but a bandleader who possessed an impeccable taste when choosing not only his personnel, but also his choice of musical programme.

As a young man, and after studying the piano with his mother, Basie went to New York where he met James P Johnson, Fats Waller and a host of other pianists who frequented New York's Harlem district. Basie joined Bennie Moten’s Kansas City Orchestra in 1929 and took over the band when Moten died. By the time he was 20 he was touring extensively as a solo pianist, accompanist and musical director for many blues singers, dancers and comedians. In 1936 he formed his first big band, and became contracted to Decca Records: a year on and Basie's outfit had become one of the leading bands of the swing era. By the end of that decade he had acquired international fame with recordings of One O'Clock Jump, Jumping At the Woodside and Taxi War Dance.

In 1952, after reorganising his big band, he undertook a long series of tours and recording sessions that eventually led to him becoming an elder statesman of jazz. He also took on board such sidesmen as Clark Terry, Buddy DeFranco, Serge Chaloff and Buddy Rich. As time went on however, Basie, for various reasons, often changed his personnel - not always his idea, but those such as Terry and Rich who had visions of their own. But the one obvious thing was that there was never a shortage of able musicians willing to step into their shoes; as Thad Jones, Eddie 'Lockjaw' Davis, Snooky Young, Wendell Culley, Frank Foster, Frank Wess, Freddie Green, Joe Newman and Sonny Payne were quick to illustrate.

In that year of 1958, Basie had arrived to tour this country following a Trans-Atlantic exchange deal with the Vic Lewis orchestra crossing over to America, with all these now-household star names sitting there in his employ. At the time the 'Count' also had the distinction of having a rare, and one of the most requested hit records of the day as part of his musical CV, -April in Paris.

But there was more - much more - to a Count Basie concert than April in Paris. Since the formation of his new band, Basie had also enlisted some of the best composers and arrangers around, all of which added up to an unequalled, relaxed precision and control of the new ensemble's exciting dynamics. These names included Thad Jones, Quincy Jones, Benny Carter and perhaps the most prolific of them all, Neal Hefti.

Evidence of the new band's prowess was reflected in the sales of the many albums that were produced. Two especially, The Atomic Mr Basie and The Chairman of the Board helped to illustrate just how much Basie's new line-up (both on and off stage) had grabbed the imagination and attentions of the swing-loving public; as a result, both albums hit the top of the charts. At a later date these aforementioned albums were reissued in a single, double-format release as The Atomic Mr Chairman. Once again this winning formula reached the pinnacle of the LP charts.

As in most of his UK concerts, great emphasis was placed not only on Basie's highly personal, laconic and blues-oriented style as a formidable jazz pianist, which sometimes bordered on laziness, but on the output of the band's rhythm section. This supported the interplay of brass and reeds, and served as a backdrop for the unfolding of solos - all of which Basie was able to firmly control from the keyboard.

Interesting, too, was the musical programme which Basie had formulated for the tour. For most of the numbers revolved around the release of the two albums, which served to give them a timely and well-deserved plug, while at the same time illuminating the expertise of Thad Jones, with scores such as The Deacon, Mutt and Jeff and Speaking of Sounds. But more than that it helped to underline the invaluable contributions which Neal Hefti made to the Basie organisation, by way of his arrangements and compositions, during that particular period. Evidence of this was well to the fore with such numbers as Splanky, Whirly Bird, The Kid From Red Bank, Flight of the Foo Birds, Fantail, Midnight Blue and Li '1 Darling.

There are those who have later said that on that particular tour Basie could easily have got away with playing a whole programme of Jones and Hefti numbers, with no-one probably batting an eyelid. More to the point, there are also those who maintain that with the odd exception, such as April in Paris, that's exactly what he did do! But the 'Count' was indeed a wily old bird, for when you threw in the immense talents of the powerful blues singer Joe Williams, you realised that there was much more to Basie's outfit than met the eye. Between them, Basie and Williams added a whole new dimension to the ensemble, and they reshaped the role of the big band singer without sacrificing their innate taste and musical imagination.

Although Count Basie died in April 1984, at the age of 79, his musical library containing all those classic Jones and Hefti scores has been lovingly protected over the years since his death.

Although since the band's halcyon days there has inevitably been many personnel changes, it's interesting to note that when the band came to this country three years ago, apart from Mitchell it contained five other members who had played under the sadly-departed 'Count'. These were drummer Butch Miles, who took over from Sonny Payne, trombonists Clarence Banks and Bill Hughes, tenor-saxist Kenny Hing and baritone-saxist John Williams. For reasons which are self-explanatory, and even after all these years, the sounds and the music of Count Basie will forever be around. Just as on April in Paris, those immortal words, 'one more time' will always serve to remind us of one of the truly great swing bands of the century.

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Ivy Benson

The Leader Who Invented Sax Appeal

By Tony Parker

During the early Forties, when the world was still at war, big bands ruled everywhere in the country's ballrooms and palais and a woman's place was out there in the audience. Or at least that was the general theory. But one diminutive, young red-haired saxophonist - a 'rebel' from Leeds - had an idea of her own, and that was to break into the male-dominated world of dance music by forming her own all-girl outfit. Furthermore she worked tirelessly to bring her idea to fruition, and it was one that outraged the brotherhood. To add insult to injury she even selected the Gershwin Brothers' Lady Be Good as her signature tune. As it turned out, Ivy Benson's outfit proved to be one of the most popular in the land - long after the war was over, and well into the fifties.

When the orchestra was launched in 1944, many male bandleaders sent a joint protest to broadcasters and booking agents not to touch her. It was to no avail, so, when they couldn't get at her that way, they laid a claim that her orchestra was full of lesbians! None of it worked. They even tried to halt Ivy's progress with musical arrangers putting wrong notes in the scores, and attempting to coax theatre managers to block the band from appearing. Once again their efforts failed.

Born in 1913, and after leaving school, Ivy Benson worked as a clerk at Montague Burton's store in Leeds for the paltry sum of eighteen shillings a week. She came from a working-class musical background and was always destined to spend her life doing something musical. Her father played in the pit orchestra at the Leeds Empire, and he nurtured dreams of Ivy one day becoming a concert pianist. The 'rebel' had other ideas, though, for by this time she had become an efficient saxophonist who could also play the clarinet, and to supplement her meagre day wage she played both instruments in a club for 7/6 a night. It was during this time that Ivy had the impulse to form her own band, and also experience all the acrimony from the male leaders. They hated her to a man, because they saw her as a rival. And the bookers, too, thought there was something indecent about the idea of a lady who led a dance band. However, she was to prove them all wrong for she turned out to have a gift for organisation, and a solicitude for the members of her band which those male leaders of the time would have done well to imitate.

But despite her musical skills, her business acumen and her reputation for being very strong, Ivy was treated as something of a joke by the male chauvinists in the band business. They couldn't get their heads round an all-girl orchestra. One classic gag asked: 'What is the only sight less sexy than a man playing a trombone? A girl playing a trombone.' But quips like this made no difference to the super-tough Ivy, who died in May,1993, at the age of 80.

With a dispassionate look backwards, the first time I saw Ivy's band in 1956, apart from the glamour element of her players, it was not one of the best that I'd ever heard: to be fair, though, some of the male bands (with the odd exception or two) also left a lot to be desired. But her style appealed, and that was all that really mattered.

Since that time, and up until she went into retirement, she had often been described as the female Joe Loss due to the fact that she had led an orchestra for almost as long - 30 years, in fact. Ivy played the kind of neat, precise dance music beloved of the up-tempo brigade, and the fact that her rise coincided with the war made her an obvious choice as an entertainer of the troops overseas. As a rule the British troops tended to cheer and dance, and leave it at that. But the Americans had only to dance a couple of foxtrots before they proposed marriage. Consequently, dozens of Ivy's girls married GIs, and eventually so did Ivy. In fact, she married twice but both marriages failed.

It was in 1977, when working as a show reviewer for the Manchester Evening News, I got the chance to meet up with Ivy again, after an absence of over 20 years, when she and her orchestra made a rare appearance at a long-gone nightclub in Stockport. At the end of her act we found a quiet table where we sat, had a drink and reminisced.

We talked of times past, present and of her not-too-often appearances in the nightspots and ballrooms. It was then that she opened her heart, off the record, I might add. 'I'm semi-retired these days - almost fully retired and living in Clacton-on-Sea. I tell you, I hate retirement and I hate Clacton. I hate not being in the swim and I miss the musical life - I made the greatest mistake of my life by coming down here and giving up. I still dream of London.' Later, she sold up in Clacton and moved to Chiswick.

Plucking up courage, I asked Ivy about her two failed marriages. I expected some kind of backlash. It didn't happen, instead I received an honest reply. 'Both marriages failed because of my husbands' infidelity while I was on the road. After that I would tell my girls: "If you get married, don't stay in the band - this is farewell to romance. Take my advice and put your sax in the fridge".'

Before we departed that night, with the customary peck on the cheek, I asked Ivy if she could recall a cold, wintry night in January, 1957, when her band was booked to appear for a dance at the Pavilion Gardens in Buxton. Because the town was virtually cut off by the snow, and they were stranded some 15 miles away, Ivy and the girls had to change into their stage dresses in the coach. The result was that they didn't arrive at the venue until about 10.00pm - two hours later than booked, and shivering.

'I remember that night very well. In fact, it was one of the coldest that I've ever spent. Have you ever tried playing a sax suffering from near frostbite?' she laughed. Ivy's reply was not only humorous, but it turned out to be a postscript that I'll always remember.

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Mr Blackpool

A Profile of Bertini by Terry Brown

Bertini was one of a handful of provincial band leaders who made it to the big time, although when comparing his style to some of his contemporaries at the top, his rise to stardom might seem surprising. Bertini's band rarely provided anything other than good competent dance music and you'll find very few swing or jazzed tinged orchestrations in his vast recorded output. But then it should be remembered that there was a mass market for straightforward competently played music to dance to and it was within this market that Bertini thrived.

When Bert's father told him he was to be apprenticed to an ironmonger, young Bert had other ideas: he packed his bags and left to seek his fortune on the road as a violinist. Still only 14, he managed to get a job as second violin in an Ipswich theatre and was taken under the wing of some of the musicians. He subsequently toured the UK as a jobbing theatre musician with a spell in a traveling circus band where he learned to play tenor horn. The circus would figure again in his career, much later in life. At age 19 Bert was on the dance band circuit both in the UK and abroad playing at private dances, in dance halls, on ships and the like, until he successfully auditioned to lead a band at the Grand Cinema in Camberwell in 1910. For violin solos and leading the band he was paid Twenty-seven shillings a week, not a bad sum at the time.

Eventually WWI intervened and in 1915 Bert joined the 10th Worcester Regiment. He had a pretty hard time of it and during actions in France in 1916 he was gassed and invalided home. Following lengthy hospital treatment he recovered sufficiently to join the 18th Divisional String Band under Arthur Sweeten who went on to become “Anton” of Paramount Theatre Orchestra fame. On demobilization and despite damaged lungs, Bert determined to continue where he left off before the war and took a four piece band into the Arcade Hall in Bognor Regis with considerable success, subsequently becoming musical director of Bognor Theatre Royal. In February 1924, the producer/impresario Archie Pitt was in the theatre rehearsing his new hit review, Tower Of London (then on tour) and he and his new star and wife, Gracie Fields, were so impressed with Bert's organisational and musical abilities that they invited him to join Pitt's organisation, and it was here that Bertram Gutsell became Bertini.

Bertini's first job was to lead and conduct Archie Pitt's so called Busby Boys for the review A Week's Pleasure which toured for two-and-a-half years. This was followed by Safety First for another year-and-a-half. Pitt's Busby Boys were a bunch of lively and talented juvenile instrumentalists who appeared in and provided music for the reviews. Bertini certainly had his hands full with 10 or so young lads including the likes of a sixteen-year-old Nat Gonella on his hands! Other Busby boys who went on to bigger and better things included Nat's brother Bruts, Freddie Wood, Max Abrams and George Latimer. Nat Gonella looked back with fond memories on his Busby Boy days but noted Bertini remained opposed to any attempts by the boys to add any jazz colouring to his orchestrations. When Safety First reached the Palace Theatre, Blackpool, a further opportunity to step up the ladder for Bertini occurred. Bertini was seen by Harry Hall, general manager of the Blackpool Tower Company and his musical adviser Frank Jepson. They were impressed enough to offer Bertini the musical directorship of the Tower Ballroom/Winter Gardens.

After four years on the road, Bertini jumped at the chance and became MD from 1st April 1928, following Dan Godfrey. Apart from being tired of touring, another reason Bertini decided to take the job was Blackpool itself 'the sea air is so good for my chest' he said. What followed was Bertini's most successful period as a dance band leader riding high in public popularity for the next eight years. By August 1928 he was broadcasting for the BBC and continued to do so regularly, sometimes three times a month, to the mid thirties. This came as a surprise to a number of London based bands who thought the BBC had passed them by for a 'provincial' outfit. Rhythm magazine, for November 1929 noted Bertini's 'meteoric rise to fame during the past few months being the cause of so much controversy'. Away from the carping, Bertini married at this time and later had a daughter Pamela.   

Bertini could soon be heard on record as well as radio, making his first sides for Parlophone and Piccadilly in May 1929, followed by further sessions for Broadcast from December 1929 to March 1930. From May 1931 he issued some 50 sides for Sterno, with short spells at Zonophone and later Regal Zonophone in February 1933. From May 1933, Bertini signed an exclusive deal with Crystalate for their new Woolworth’s label, Eclipse, and he went on to record around 120 sides to February 1935. Interestingly only Bertini's, Zonophone and Regal Zonophone sides were actually recorded in Blackpool, all other sides were made in London, which usually required a grueling overnight trip to record, mostly on a Sunday.

It has to be said Bertini new his market thoroughly. In an interview he gave to Arthur Willcox for the July 1934 Tune Times magazine, Willcox reported ' His views on dance music are very straightforward. He believes in flowing melody, good tempo, and distinct rhythm. No 'involved stuff' because his public don't want it'. Consequently, the vast majority of Bertini's recordings consist of entertaining, rhythmic dance arrangements, exactly what his dancers wanted. Nonetheless there  are some slightly hotter moments mostly on his earlier sides such as Piccadilly 293, Halfway To Heaven/I've Got Those Old Man River Blues and one side of Broadcast 496, Ev'ry Day Away From You.    

During his most prolific recording period, for Crystalate, Bertini wrote dozens of non-copyright sides for his Eclipse issues. Using the credit Bertini or Harry Bertram, (his forenames reversed) or just Bertram, his output includes The Curfew's Love Call, Listen To That Rhythm (which incidentally has a fairly lively orchestration), Can't You See, Keyboard Kapers, A Night In Paradise, Happy Days Will Come Once More, What Have I Done To You, I Can't Remember, Look Out For The Sunshine, We'll Dance Through Life Together, I'm In Love, My Heart Still Beats For You, As Long As I'm With You, Let's Sing A Song About Old England, Dance Your Blues Away and Little White House On The Hillside. Bertini used two of his own numbers, Hello Everybody and Take A Ride On a Sunbeam, as signature tunes at various times. Additionally he also used Karl Robrecht's symphonic fox trot Samum, which Bertini recorded across two sides on Zonophone 6188 in 1932. All of that said, when performing in Blackpool, I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside became a sort of unofficial theme tune.

Bertini's Eclipse sides certainly benefit from the cream of London based singers available to him and Sam Browne, Dan Donovan, Brian Lawrence, Leslie Douglas, Cyril Grantham and Donald Peers can all be heard at their best. But this happy situation for Bertini was not to last. In early 1935, Crystalate withdrew the Eclipse label and replaced it with Crown and it was change all round. Mrs. Jack Hylton and her Band were engaged to headline, and Bertini was replaced by provincial rival, Billy Merrin. Bertini made no more recordings for the balance of his career. Change also loomed at the sea-side and following the 1936 summer season at the Tower Ballroom, Bertini decided he wanted more of the big time, and left to go on tour.

There has been much debate about this move but no doubt Bertini felt constrained by his tenure at Blackpool as a 'provincial band'. After all he was a successful broadcaster, had sold thousands of records, so why shouldn't he make it just as big as the Hylton's and Payne's of the dance band world? Before going on the road, Bertini and his Band took some time out to appear in John Blakeley's Mancunian Films 1936 musical comedy, Dodging The Dole, which featured Roy Barbour, Jenny Howard, Dan Young and Steffani's Silver Songsters amongst others. This is the only time Bertini appeared on film and sadly at present it's a 'lost' film.

Bertini toured very successfully throughout the UK and continent and began appearing on commercial radio including Radio Normandy Calling. He returned to Blackpool occasionally with appearances in Lawrence Wrights On With The Show on the North Pier and Victoria Ballroom. By the start of WWII, Bertini was principally employed on the Mecca Dance Hall circuit. After one of his last performances with his band (which included Jimmy Walker) at the Fountainbridge Palais in Edinburgh in 1944, Bertini decided to accept an offer to become MD for the Prince's International Circus Company. Bertini had performed in a circus band in his youth and enjoyed his role which ultimately was to be his last. Bertini died suddenly of heart failure at his Edinburgh home just before his fourth season at Rhyl with Prince's on 13th June 1952, aged 64. 

In an interview in Rhythm magazine for February 1930, Bertini confirmed that he was responsible for his band's arrangements and then continued 'I was once accused of not featuring enough hot solos. But you must remember that I cater for my public. I play in one of the largest ballrooms in the world. Four or five thousand people dance comfortably. Those people put me where I am today, and I play music to suit their taste'; and on record, radio and in person that's exactly what Bertini did with considerable success, for forty years.

© Terry Brown 2008

I would like to thank David Nathan at the National Jazz Archive, (www.nationaljazzarchive.co.uk), for making rare publications available to me whilst researching this article.

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Steve Conway - England's Romantic Singer

By Ray Pallett

During the "austerity years" after World War II, before the advent of "youth culture" and rock ‘n’ roll, the British public were introduced to a singer with a voice as unique as Bing Crosby, Al Bowlly and Al Jolson. A voice whose quality can legitimately be compared with those names just mentioned. Steve Conway.

Steve always sang softly and sincerely and like Al Bowlly always meant what he sang. His mellow voice had a wonderful and effortless range. His smooth yet thrilling voice was warm, rich and relaxed with perfect pitch and depth.

Having become intrigued about the life and times of Steve Conway, after first hearing his voice on some 78 rpm records found in a local market, I starting making enquiries to locate his widow Lilian and daughter Janice with a view to writing the Steve Conway story for Memory Lane. I located them with the help of a BBC producer. Janice was the perfect hostess when I visited her lovely home to talk with her and her mother about Steve Conway in 1991. Lilian recalled the story so vividly and openly. Here, then is the story of Steve Conway.

Steve Conway was born on 12th October 1920 in Bethnal Green in East London. His real name was Walter James Groom but throughout his life his friends and family called him Jimmy. He was born into a very poor family, his father, Walter Groom being a labourer.

He left school when he was 14. He had a succession of jobs and was sacked more than once. His first job was making deliveries on a tricycle for an embroidery firm. From there, he went to work in a shoe factory as a machinist. From the shoe factory he went to work at Billingsgate fish market as a porter which he could do well being a very strong young chap. His fourth job was with the brewers Mann, Crossman and Pullin where he was employed cleaning out the vats. He started there around 1943 and gave up this job in 1944 to become a professional singer.

He had no musical education, could not read music or play an instrument. He did not sing in any school or church choirs. However, Jimmy had always enjoyed singing. He could memorise a song, both words and melody, from just one hearing; within 2 or 3 minutes he once said in a press interview.

He was just 16 when he was persuaded to enter a talent contest in a cinema in Bethnal Green. It was a good start; he won the first prize, a biscuit barrel. After collecting the prize, he ran down through the audience to meet his girl friend Lilian.

Unfortunately, Jimmy was rejected for military service in the navy as he did not pass his medical examination as A1. He was told that he had a heart condition. It surprised and upset him as he had always been fit and strong. He was not told to see a doctor and he had no further reason to doubt his health during the next ten years.

Lilian's sister Joyce and fiancee George decided to get married. This prompted Jimmy and Lilian to get married as well so the four of them decided to make it a double wedding. The wedding took place on 12th April, 1941 at Christ Church in Hackney.

Their first home was a house in Hackney. For the first few years of marriage it was a struggle to make ends meet. When she was expecting Janice, Lilian was taken to the Peartree Emergency Maternity Hospital in Welwyn Garden City in Hertfordshire. Janice was born on 24th February, 1944. Jimmy was always the great romantic but now that there were three of them he became first and foremost a family man absolutely devoted to Lilian and Janice.

Back to the pre-war days, Jimmy entered a further two or three talent contests during the 1936 to 1938 period. During the war, Jimmy managed to get a few bookings for stage shows around London which were principally amateur shows put on between films at cinemas.

During 1943 Jimmy appeared in a Sunday afternoon show at the State Theatre, Kilburn in London. As a direct result of this he was asked to do a fortnight's engagement at the Trocadero Cinema, Elephant and Castle in South London. He obviously made a hit here, for he was asked to return twice.

It was during January 1944 that Jimmy appeared on stage for his third return visit to the Trocadero Cinema. Jimmy was heard singing there by Reg Morgan who was an artistes' manager who, with Charlie Chester ran the Victory Publishing Company. Both Reg Morgan and Cheerful Charlie Chester thought that Jimmy had star potential. and managed to get Jimmy audition for BBC.

His first broadcast, which was in 1945, was in the Navy Mixture programme which featured a different singer every week. On this first broadcast he was called Gordon James, a name that he was using at that time.

Cecil Madden, a BBC talent scout, put Jimmy on the air in Variety Bandbox where he appeared with Reg Morgan in the "Meet The Composer" spot. Reg Morgan subsequently told Jimmy that he would never get anywhere in show business while he was working full time at the brewery. He offered him a contract worth £6.00 a week if he gave up the brewery job. Jimmy accepted and gave in his notice.

Reg set to work to make Jimmy a star. There were two things that had to be attended to, the first was his strong Cockney accent and the second was his name. As regards the Cockney accent, Jimmy was sent to Chloe Gibson for elocution lessons. A lot of effort and thought went into finding a stage name for Jimmy. He was sent lists of first names and second names to consider. In the end it was Charlie Chester who came up with Steve Conway.

Steve was still relatively inexperienced in stage craft so to gain experience he toured Mecca dance halls. Towards the end of 1945 Steve sang for Ambrose at Ciro's Club in the West End of London. He was very relaxed singing with this great orchestra. He also sang with Joe Loss, Maurice Winnink and Lew Stone. Lew's wife Joyce has on file a note that Steve broadcast with Lew from the Aoleon Hall, in London's Bond Street. She remembers meeting Steve and recalls thinking that he was one of the nicest, most unspoilt and sincere singers of the time.

By this time Steve was starting to make an impression in the music business. In the Melody Maker poll results of 1945 he was No. 13 in the male vocalist section, in front of such established names as George Elrick, Alan Breeze and Nat Gonella. This was quite remarkable for someone who had not yet started to make records.

The next landmark in the life of Steve Conway was a recording contract with EMI. In the Autumn of 1945 Steve walked into the Abbey Road recording studios to make his first record which was issued on Columbia in November of that year. Accompanied by Jack Byfield at the piano it coupled the popular Billy Reid song The Gypsy backed with I Could Never Tell. This was the first in a line of 46 records to feature the voice of Steve Conway. On every one of his records he gives a first rate performance: the only preference that one could have for a particular record would be if the preference was for a particular song.

One of his records, At The End Of The Day was used for over 30 years by Radio Luxembourg as their signing off record after each night's transmission.

Broadcasts continued. He appeared in Sandy MacPherson's series I'll Play To You and subsequently Sleepy Serenade. He also broadcast with Ted Heath and Billy Ternent. He had his own programme called "Steve Conway In Romantic Mood" again with Sandy MacPherson. By the end of 1949 he had made over 200 broadcasts for which his usual fee was 4 guineas a time.

Perhaps the best remembered broadcasts by Steve were his appearances in the Sunday afternoon series Sweet Serenade by Peter Yorke and his Concert Orchestra which also featured the great multi-instrumentalist Freddy Gardner. By January 1948, Steve had become the vocal mainstay of this series. One commentator remarked on the number of women burning their Sunday lunches due to their being distracted by Steve Conway on the radio!

Steve started a major tour of the halls at His Majesty's Theatre, Carlisle on 16th February 1948 with his London debut at the Golders Green Hippodrome one week later. He was by now topping the bill and earning £200 a week cash which was later increased to £300 a week. Steve confessed to a reporter that he suffered first night nerves every Monday night. However, when on the stage he soon relaxed and always put in quite a bit of patter between songs as he did on the radio.

On one occasion, Steve topped the bill and Max Bygraves was a supporting artiste. Bert Weedon, the guitarist, would often be one of Steve's accompanists. One night comedian Bob Hope was in the audience and after the show went backstage to congratulate Steve. Afterwards they had a drink together at the bar!

He was always pleased to meet his fans and those who did meet him recall his mannerly behaviour and a gentle sense of humour. All through his professional career he was swamped with fan mail. He always treated his fans with great respect and a report in the Melody Maker in 1949 says that he then spent a day a week answering letters.

Steve's television debut was in an edition of the Melody And Mirth variety show broadcast in December 1948. He went on to appear on post-war BBC Television a few more times.

By 1950, Steve Conway had firmly established himself as a top-of-the-bill act. All was going well with Steve's career and he had an idyllic family life. This changed dramatically after one day in the Spring of 1950. Lilian, Steve and Janice went rowing on the River Thames with music publisher Roy Berry and his wife Joyce. They were having great fun but got into difficulties with a strong current. Steve and Roy managed to row to the bank and Steve jumped ashore to tow the boat to safety along the bank. The exertion had put a strain on Steve's heart and from that day he was never quite the same man again.

Although under a private consultant in Harley Street in London, Steve continued performing up and down the country and was adding success to success. In December 1950 he was able to move his family from Hackney into a lovely detached house in the leafy London suburb of Ickenham.

Music publisher Roy Berry remembers the day Steve went to Hastings to discuss a proposed record with the Hastings Girls Choir. "He got so out of breath that day", recalls Berry. However, a record was made with the choir which was released in February 1951 and which received rave reviews.

In May 1951 Steve collapsed whilst appearing at the Bradford Alhambra. He recovered and continued working although during the months that followed his condition steadily deteriorated. Sometimes his stage appearances had to be cancelled at short notice. In December 1951 he collapsed on the stage at the Hull Palace and was admitted to Hull Royal Infirmary. His theatre dates had to be cancelled and were taken over by Josef Locke.

He was discharged from the hospital and put on a train to London's Kings Cross Station where he was met by an ambulance and brought back to his home in Ickenham on a stretcher. Lilian recalls vividly a time when she and Steve were sitting on a rug in front of the fire and he said "I think I'm going to die".

He consulted a specialist from Harley Street, Sir Russell Brock who said that rheumatic fever which Steve had contracted as a child had apparently not been treated properly and had caused mitral stenosis which is an abnormal narrowing of the mitral valve.

Soon after Christmas, 1951, too ill to stay at home, arrangements were made for Steve to be admitted to Charing Cross hospital. The following April, still in Charing Cross Hospital, he was prepared for an operation which offered a 50-50 chance of a cure. Still cheerful, he was transferred to Guy's Hospital in London for surgery. When the news broke that he had been admitted there, fans besieged the hospital. The day before his operation, Norman Newell and orchestra leader Ray Martin went there and they recalled: "his broken voice told us how ill he was and yet he joked with us, laughed with us and talked of new `gimmicks' for the records he was going to cut again - soon" .

Lilian stayed in the hospital. The operation was performed and Lilian was called when Steve came round after the anaesthetic had worn off. But when she awoke next morning Steve was dead. He was just 31. He had died on 19th April 1952. Russell Brock had apparently found complications and could not perform the operation completely.

Steve's death received wide coverage in both the musical and national press. On Friday 25th at 2.30pm he was cremated at Golders Green Crematorium in London. Melody Maker reporter Chris Hayes was among the congregation of about 100 who he recognised as bandleaders, vocalists, musicians, recording executives, music publishers, song writers, artistes, agents, managers and reporters. Chris remembers "There were about 75 floral tributes - and I should know because I looked at and counted every one - ranging from simple little bouquets from fans, to elaborate wreathes from wealthy stars. The most touching came from his heartbroken daughter and was in the shape of a miniature chair inscribed Daddy's Little Girl, a poignant memory of his hit song."

At the time of writing, Janice still lives in the house her father bought in 1950 with her husband Christopher their 3 children, Capella, Rigel and Talita. Meanwhile in 1972, Lilian emigrated to the United States to marry there an American she had previously met whilst on holiday in Majorca. In 1989 Lilian and husband Frank returned to England so that she would be near her family. At the time of writing, they now live at Amersham in Buckinghamshire.

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George Elrick

A Profile by Jimmy Brown

Billed as the Smiling Voice of Radio, musician, entertainer and agent, George Elrick was 95 when he died in a London nursing home.

Born in Aberdeen the eldest of a family of nine, George dreamed of becoming a surgeon and even won a bursary to Robert Gordon’s College but lack of funds forced him to leave school and take a job as a traveller in stationery and fancy goods. In his spare time he played drums in local dance bands and after winning the best drummer award in the All-Scottish Dance Band Championship for 1929 he went professional to take a band into Aberdeen’s Beach Ballroom.

Then in 1931 he left Aberdeen to seek fame and fortune in London. Initially he found it difficult to break into London’s clique of highly skilled session musicians but he got his first break when he was engaged as second percussionist to Max Bacon in Ambrose’s orchestra for a nationwide tour. Next Henry Hall signed him as drummer and featured vocalist in his BBC Dance Orchestra. Broadcasting nightly at 5.15 pm, George Elrick’s happy voice soon turned him into a household name, with such chart-toppers of the day as The Music Goes Round And Round.

He left Henry Hall in 1937 to lead his own band round the ballrooms and music halls of Britain and was a regular visitor to Glasgow in those days, playing in the Dennistoun Palais, Barrowland and Green’s Playhouse Ballroom, where he was billed as "Mrs Elrick’s Wee Son George." He was appearing at Dennistoun Palais in 1940 when the BBC started their Music While You Work programmes. He secured a broadcast from the BBC’s Glasgow studios and the band was all set, with just minutes to go, when the producer suddenly asked: "What about the sig tune?" There was a bit of a panic at this since no one had told them about the sig tune and they had no parts.

Piano player John McCormack and trumpeter Duncan Whyte were the only ones who thought they knew the tune so they went on the air busking the sig tune on trumpet and piano for a few bars before launching into their programme. John McCormack suspects that the producer did not like George Elrick and deliberately dropped him in it. The Elrick piano chair was John McCormack’s first full time pro job, although he went on to play with many of the other bandleaders of the day such as Lew Stone and Carl Barriteau. Son of Glasgow accordionist and music shop proprietor, Neilly McCormack, John was only eighteen at the time and before he left home he had been sternly warned by his dad against the hazards of band touring such as predatory groupies and excessive drinking.

George Elrick was already tiring of the stresses of bandleading in wartime and when he suddenly gave the band notice to quit, siting their drinking habits as his reason, John was naturally concerned about what his dad would say, particularly since he was still a tee-totaller at the time. John complained to Elrick about this unjustified slur on his character and George withdrew his notice just as suddenly.

Competent musicians willing to tour in wartime were scarce and when fourteen-year-old Edinburgh trumpet player Freddy Clayton applied for an audition in 1942 Elrick decided to hear him despite his youth. The band was resident in Glasgow’s Green’s Playhouse at the time and when young Freddy turned up George broke out a new orchestration just up from London. But unknown to him Freddy had already been playing this particular piece for a fortnight in his brother’s band in Edinburgh so he sailed through his test and was duly signed up to start a career that took him onwards and upwards through the Lew Stone and Geraldo bands to become a star session man in the London studios. Freddy told me that when he joined Elrick he was approached by the Playhouse’s legendary bouncer, Big Adam, who put the bite on him for the price of a drink. Fred coughed up to the extent of five bob (25p), quite a sum in 1942, and Big Adam was touched at this generosity. The rest of the band were spilling out of the hall at the time and Big Adam nodded over to them, asking Freddy: "Any of them you want thumped?" Young Clayton hastened to assure Big Adam that no such action would be necessary, while thanking him for the kind offer which he said he would bear in mind.

George Elrick signed a record contract with EMI and enjoyed reasonable success with his band, grooming such promising musicians as trumpeter Archie Craig and sax man Harry Lewis, both of whom later became featured players with the famous wartime Number One RAF Dance Orchestra, "The Squadronairs." But the rigours of wartime touring eventually forced George to give up bandleading and he became an agent for such as Mantovani of Charmaine fame. He still retained some links with the entertainment world, however, appearing as a disc jockey on programmes such as the very popular Housewives Choice where he accidentally coined one of the very first gimmicks one day when he hummed along with the going out music at the end of the broadcast. He thought he was humming to himself but his mike had been left open by mistake and his cheerful chortling went out over the air. Listeners’ reaction was so favourable that he had to keep the gimmick in his act for the rest of his time on Housewives Choice.

Always very active in the show business charity organisation, The Water Rats, George Elrick was in line for the award of the OBE in recognition of this when he died. His wife, Alice, a former model, died in 1992 at the age of 82 while their only child, Ian, was tragically killed in an accident in 1954 at the age of 20. He was survived by his sisters, Peggy, who lives in Aberdeen, Winnie of Montrose and Bessie of Plymouth.

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The Reginald Foresythe Discography

Compiled by Terry Brown

PAUL HOWARD’S Quality Serenaders: Paul Howard (ts), George Orendorff (t), Earl Thompson (t), Lawrence Brown (tb/a), Charlie Lawrence (cl/as/arr), Lloyd Reece (cl/as), Reginald Foresythe (p), Thomas Valentine (bj/g), James Jackson (bb), Lionel Hampton (d)

Culver City, California 21 October 1929

54477-1-2 Harlem Victor un-issued

54478-1-2 Cuttin’ Up (Lionel Hampton v) Victor un-issued

Culver City, California 3 February 1930

54477-3 Harlem Victor 23354

54478-3 Cuttin’ Up (Lionel Hampton v) Victor 23420

54586-1-2 California Swing (Lionel Hampton v) Victor 23354

Hollywood, California 25 June 1930

54847-3 Burma Girl Victor LPM 10117 (Long Playing Record)

54848-1-2 Getting’ Ready Blues (Hampton) Victor 23420

ZAIDEE JACKSON accompanied by REGINALD FORSESYTHE (p)

London July 1930

E 3552-1-2 More Than You Know (Youmans) Parlophone R 761

E 3553-1-2 Sing You Sinners (Coslow/Harling) Parlophone R 773

London August 1930

E 3621-1 Whispering Out of the South (Young) Parlophone R 773

E 3622-1 Shadows Around Me Blues (Leigh/Antony) Parlophone R 773

REGINALD FORESYTHE (p)

London 4 May 1933

GB 5846-1-2 Serenade for a Wealthy Widow (RF) Decca un-issued

GB 5847-1 He’s a Son of the South (RF) Decca un-issued

The New Music of REGINALD FORESYTHE: Ted Marshall, George Newman (cl), Jimmy

Watson, Ivor Lamb (as), Alf Morgan (ts), C. W. Harding (bsn), Reginald Foresythe (p, a),

Joe Gibson (b), Don Whitelaw (d).

London 14 October 1933

CA 14048-1 Serenade for a Wealthy Widow (RF) Col CB 675 

CA 14049-1 Angry Jungle (RF) Col CB 675 

CA 14050-1-2 Tea for Two (Youmans) rejected

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps)

London 2 January 1934

CA 14234-1 Camembert (Young) Col DB 1264 

CA 14235-1 Chromolithograph (RF) Col DB 1264 

SIX KEYBOARD KINGS – REGINALD FORESYTHE, ARTHUR YOUNG, GEORGE SCOTT-WOOD, GERRY MOORE, IVOR MORETON, DAVE KAYE

London January 1934

Canadian Capers (Chandler/White/Cohen) Regal Zonophone MR 1226

Kitten on the Keys (Confrey) Regal Zonophone MR 1266

The New Music of REGINALD FORESYTHE: Cyril Clarke, Bill Apps (cl), Jimmy Watson,

Bill Barclay (as), Jack Ambrose (ts), Claude Hughes (bsn), Reginald Foresythe (p, a), Jack

Collier (b), George Elrick (d).

London 9 February 1934

CA 14331-1 The Duke Insists (RF) Col CB 744 

CA 14332-1 Berceuse for an Unwanted Child (RF)Col CB 726

CA 14333-1 Garden of Weed (RF) Col CB 726 

CA 14334-1 Bit (RF) Col CB 744

SIX KEYBOARD KINGS – REGINALD FORESYTHE, ARTHUR YOUNG, GEORGE SCOTT-WOOD, GERRY MOORE, IVOR MORETON, DAVE KAYE

London April 1934

St Louis Blues (Handy) Regal Zonophone MR 1277

Tiger Rag  (La Rocca) Regal Zonophone MR 1277

The New Music of REGINALD FORESYTHE: Cyril Clarke, Bill Apps (cl), Jimmy Watson,

Bill Barclay (as), Jack Ambrose (ts), Claude Hughes (bsn), Reginald Foresythe (p, a), Jack

Collier (b), Georg Elrick (d).

London 25 May 1934

CA 14512-1 St. Louis Blues (W. C. Handy) Col DB 1407 Col FB 1141 

CA 14513-1-2 Because it’s Love (RF/Carr) Col DB 1407 Col FB 1141 

London 6 September 1934

CA 14655-1 Two Hymns to Darkness: 1. Deep Forest (RF) Col FB 1643

CA 14656-1 Two Hymns to Darkness: 2. Lament for Congo (RF) Col FB 1643

CA 14657-1 Volcanic (Eruption for Orchestra) (RF) Col CB 787

CA 14658-1 Autocrat Before Breakfast (RF) Col CB 787

The New Music of REGINALD FORESYTHE: Benny Goodman, Johnny Mince (cl),

Hymie Schertzer, Toots Mondello (as), Dick Clark (ts), Sol Schoenbach (bsn), Reginald

Foresythe (p, a), John Kirby (b), Gene Krupa (d).

New York 23 January 1935

COW 16597-1 The Melancholy Clown (RF) Col 3060-D (UK issue Col FB 1233)

COW 16598-1 Lullaby Col 3012-D (RF) (UK issue Col FB 1031)

COW 16599-1 The Greener the Grass (RF) Col 3060-D (UK issue Col FB 1233)

COW 16600-1 Dodging a Divorcee (RF) Col 3012-D (UK issue Col FB 1031)

REGINALD FORESYTHE with HENRY HALL and the BBC DANCE ORCHESTRA

London 19 March 1935

CAX 7494-2 Southern Holiday. A Phantasy of Negro Moods. Pt 1 (RF) Co DX 683

CAX 7495-1 Southern Holiday. A Phantasy of Negro Moods. Pt 2 (RF) Col DX 683

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps), Dick Ball (sb), Max Bacon (d)

London 26 June 1935

GB 7258-1-2 Rhumba Medley 1. La Cucaracha (Trad/Washington) , Mama Inez (Grenet/Gilbert), Carioca (Youmans/Kahn/Eliscu) Decca F 5596

GB 7259-1-2 Rhumba Medley 2. Tony’s Wife (Adamson/Lane), Sidewalks of Cuba (Oakland/Parrish/Mills), When Yuba Plays the Tuba (Hupfeld) Decca F5596

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps)

London 9 July 1935

GA 7301-1-2 Anything Goes Selection 1. I Get a Kick Out of You, Blow Gabriel Blow, Anything Goes (Porter) Decca K 770

GA 7302-1-2 Anything Goes Selection 2. You’re the Top, All Through the Night, You’re the Top (Porter) Decca K 770

GA 7303-1-2 Rumba’s on Toast 1.  La Cucaracha (Trad/Washington) , Mama Inez (Grenet/Gilbert), Carioca (Youmans/Kahn/Eliscu), Siboney (Lecuona) Decca K 777

GA 7304-1-2 Rumba’s on Toast 2.  Tony’s Wife (Adamson/Lane), Sidewalks of Cuba (Oakland/Parrish/Mills), Green Eyes (Ultrera/Menendez/Green), When Yuba Plays the Tuba (Hupfeld) Decca K 777

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps)

London 30 July 1935

TB 1835-1 Sweet Adeline Selection 1. Lonely Feet, Why Was I Born, Here I Am, (Hammerstein/ Kern) Decca F 5636

TB 1836-1 Sweet Adeline Selection 2. Don’t Ever Leave Me, We Were So Young, (Hammerstein/Kern) Decca F 5636

TB 1837-1 Roberta Selection 1. I Won’t Dance, Lovely To Look At, (Hammerstein/Harbach, Fields/McHugh/Kern) Decca F5637

TB 1838-1 Roberta Selection 2. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, The Touch Of Your Hand, I Won’t Dance, (Hammerstein/Harbach/Fields/McHugh/Kern) Decca F5637

REGINALD FORESYTHE and His Orchestra: Cyril Clarke, Dick Savage (cl), Jimmy

Watson, Harry Carr (as), Eddie Farge (ts), J. L. Brenchley (bsn), Reginald Foresythe (p, a),

Don Stuteley (b), Jack Simpson (dr)

London 19 July 1935

TB 1885-1 Landscape (RF) Decca F 5660

TB 1886-1 Homage to Armstrong (RF) (Chinatown, my Chinatown) (Schwartz) Decca F 5660

London 19 August 1935

TB 1887-1 Tea for Two (Youmans) Decca F 5711

TB 1888-1 Sweet Georgia Brown (Pinkard/Bernie/Casey) Decca F 5711

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps), Dick Ball (sb), Max Bacon (d)

London 30 September 1935

TB 1932-1 Every Night at Eight Selection 1. Every Night At Eight, Take It Easy, Speaking Confidentially (Fields/McHugh) Decca F 5715

TB 1933-1 Every Night at Eight Selection 2. I’m In the Mood for Love, Every Night at Eight (Fields/McHugh) Decca F 5715

TB 1934-1 Casino de Paree Selection, About a Quarter to Nine, She’s A Latin from Manhattan, Go Into Your Dance, Mammy, I’ll Sing About You (Dubin/Warren) Decca F 5716

TB 1935-1 The Big Broadcast Of 1936 Selection, Double Trouble, Why Dream? I Wished On The Moon, Why Stars Come Out At Night (Robin/Whiting/Rainger/Parker) Decca F 5716

HILDERGARDE with REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps) & Orchestra

London 5 October 1935

CA 15317-1 I’m in the Mood For Love (Fields/McHugh) Col FB 1170

CA 15318-1 You Are My Lucky Star (Freed/Brown) Col FB 1170

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps)

London 16 October 1935

TB 1989-1 Cheek To Cheek (Berlin) Decca F 5758

TB 1990-1 The Piccolino (Berlin) Decca F 5758

TB 1991-1 Broadway Melody Of 1936 Selection, I’ve Got A Feeling You’re Fooling, You Are My Lucky Star (Freed/Brown) Decca F 5759

TB 1992-1 Broadway Gondolier Selection, Outside Of You, Lulu’s Back In Town, The Rose In Her Hair, Broadway Gondolier (Dubin/Warren) Decca F 5759

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps)

London 30 October 1935

TA 2020-1-2 With the Duke 1. Black and Tan Fantasy, Creole Love Call, Solitude, Sophisticated Lady, Mood Indigo (Ellington) Decca K 779

TA 2021-1-2 With the Duke 2. Hyde Park, It Don’t Mean A Thing, Stompy Jones, Dallas Doings, Merry-Go-Round (Ellington) Decca K 779

TA 2022-1-2 Hits of 1935 Medley 1. June in January (Robin/Rainger), Love in Bloom (Robin/Rainger), An Earful of Music (Donaldson/Kahn), She Wore a Little Jacket of Blue (Fisher/Bryan) Decca K 797

TA 2023-1-2 Hits of 1935 Medley 2. You’re the Top (Porter), I’ll Never Say Never Again (Woods), Red Sails in the Sunset (Kennedy/Carr), I’m in the Mood for Love (Fields/McHugh), East of the Sun (Brooks), The Lady in Red (Wrubel/Dixon) Decca K 797

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps)

London 5 February 1936

GB 7666-1 Tonight at Eight Thirty Selection, Play Orchestra Play, We Were Dancing, Then, You Were There (Coward) Decca F 5879

GB 7667-1 Follow the Sun Selection, How High? Love is a Dancing Thing, Got a Bran’ New Suit (Schwartz) Decca F 5879

GB 7668-1 Modern Melodies 1. One Night in Monte Carlo (Silver/Sherman/Lewis), On Treasure Island (Leslie/Burke), The Music Goes Around and Around (Farley/Riley/Hodgson) Decca F 5878

GB 7669-1 Modern Melodies 2. The Sunset Trail (Kennedy/Carr), When Budapest Was Young (Grosz), Bird on the Wing (Kennedy/Grosz) Decca F 5878

REGINALD FORESYTHE and His Orchestra: Bill Shakespeare (tp), Harry Carr (fl),

Frank Weir (cl), Bert Crane (ts), Dick Ballinger (bar), Anthony Baines (bsn), Reginald

Foresythe (p, arr), Jack Collier (b), Dudley Barber (d), Barry Gray (v).

London 6 November 1936

TB 2617-1 Swing for Roundabout (RF) Decca F 6203

TB 2618-1 Anything You Like (Foresythe/Biatt) (Barry Gray v) Decca F 6291

TB 2619-1 Revolt of the Yes Men (RF) Decca F 6203

London 27 November 1936

TB 2661-1 Mead and Wood (RF) Decca F 6291

TB 2662-1 Meditation in Porcelain (RF) Decca F 6481

TB 2663-1 Cross for Criss (RF) Decca F 6481

TB 2664-1 Aubade (RF) Decca F 6363

TB 2665-1 Burlesque (Anderberg) Decca F 6363

REGINALD FORESYTHE & ARTHUR YOUNG (ps)

London 2 May 1938

OEA 6455-1 Tunes of Today Pt 1. Thanks for the Memory (Robin/Rainger), Two Dreams Got Together (Friend/Franklin/Mason), Don’t Ever Change (Hirsch/Handman) HMV BD 554

OEA 6456-1 Tunes of Today Pt 2. I Double Dare You (Shand/Eaton), Sweet as a Song (Gordon/Revel), Mama I Want to Make Rhythm (Byron/Jerome/Kent) HMV BD 554

London 1 June 1938

OEA 6495-1 Tunes of Today No 2. Pt 1. You’re a Sweetheart (Adamson/McHugh), Love Walked In (G & I Gershwin), So Little Time (Hill/de Rose) HMV BD 567

OEA 6496-1 Tunes of Today No 2. Pt 2. The Lambeth Walk (Gay), Goodnight Angel, Cry Baby Cry HMV BD 567

London 28 June 1938

OEA 6503-1 Mood Indigo (Ellington) HMV BD 577

OEA 6504-1 Solitude (Ellington) HMV BD 577

OEA 6505-2 St Louis Blues (Handy) HMV BD 576

OEA 6506-1 Tiger Rag (La Rocca) HMV BD 576

London 4 November 1938

OEA 7061-1 Barcarolle (Offenbach) HMV BD 629

OEA 7062-1 Carefree Selection, Change Partners, I Used to be Colour Blind, The Yam (Berlin) HMV BD 614

OEA 7063-3 Gay Imposters Selection, Day Dreaming, A Stranger in Paree, I Want to go Back to Bali (Mercer/Warren) HMV BD 614

OEA 7064-1 Chanson Hindou (Rimsky-Korsakoff) HMV BD 629

THE SQUADRONAIRES - PIANO REGINALD FORESYTHE

London c. May 1944

Unknown Title Ensa MK 4735

Unknown Title Ensa MK 4737

REGINALD FORESYTHE (p) with Pino Guerra (g), Battista Pezzaglia (b), Gilberto Cuppini (d).

Milan 21 June 1948

Gershwin Fantasia, It’s Wonderful, Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off, Lady be Good, That Certain Feeling (Gershwin) HMV HN 2327

Porter Fantasia, What is This Thing Called Love, My Heart Belongs to Daddy, Easy to love (Porter) HMV HN 2327

Berlin Fantasia, Easter Parade, Cheek to Cheek, Change Partners (Berlin) HMV HN 2354

Kern Fantasia, Long Ago and Far Away, All the Things You Are, Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man (Kern) HMV HN 2354

Recordings of Foresythe compositions by others:

Deep Forest - lyric Andy Razaf 1932

Earl Hines & his Orchestra – 28 June 1932 - Brunswick 01464/A500189/Columbia 35878

Paul Whiteman & his Orchestra – 14 December 1934 - Victor 24852/HMV B8318

He’s a Son of the South - lyric Andy Razaf 1933

Claude Hopkins & his Orchestra - Orlando Roberson (v) - 13 January 1933 - Columbia 2747D (13/1/33)

Louis Armstrong & his Orchestra - Louis Armstrong (v) - 26 January 1933 - Victor 24257/Bluebird B5086/Electadisk 2002/Sunrise S3161/HMV B4976/B8645/JK2542

Andy Pendleton - vocal - 10 February 1933 - Victor 23389

Please Don’t Talk About my Man - lyric Andy Razaf 1933

Amanda Randolph - vocal -8 October 1936 - Bluebird B 6615

Serenade for a Wealthy Widow - lyric Jimmy McHugh/Dorothy Fields 1933

Lew Stone & his Band - 15 February 1934 - Decca F3906

Fats Waller & his Rhythm - Fats Waller (v) - 28 September 1934 - Victor 24742/Bluebird B10262/ HMV GW1318/HE2619/JF8/K7863

Hal Kemp & his Orchestra - September 1934 - Brunswick 7319/7945

Paul Whiteman & his Orchestra - 14 December 1934 - Victor 24852

Stuff Smith & His Onyx Club Boys - 1 July 1936 - Vocalion 3316/S37

Michel Warlop et son Orchestre - 21 December 1937 - Swing28

Hugo Winterhalter - 1955 - Victor 20-6299

Mississippi Basin – lyric Andy Razaf 1933

Louis Armstrong & his Orchestra - Louis Armstrong (v) - 24 April 1933 - Victor 24321/DC17/Bluebird B6501/ HMV B6387/Montgomery Ward M5041

Bert Lown & his Orchestra - Elmer Feldkamp (v) - 18 May 1933 - Bluebird B5068/Sunrise S3150/Electradisk 1991

Adrian Rollini & his Orchestra - Irene Beasley (v) - 12 June 1933 - Parlophone R 2515

Clarence Williams Jug Band - Eva Taylor (v) - 16 June 1933 - Vocalion 03350 (16/6/33)

Casa Loma Orchestra - Clarence Hutchinrider (v) - 23 June 1933 - Brunswick 6618/A9467

Chick Bullock & his Levee Loungers - 12 July 1933 - Banner 32811/Conqueror 8190/Perfect 12927

Washboard Rhythm Boys - Ghost Howell (v) - 19 August 1933 - Melotone M12781/Banner 32854/Perfect 15815/Oriole 2755/Romeo 2128

Because it’s Love - lyric Michael Carr 1934

Ambrose & his Orchestra - Sam Browne (v) - 8 March 1934 - Brunswick 01729

Teddy Joyce & his Dance Music - Kitty Masters/Leslie Douglas (v) - 10 March 1934 - Sterno 1385

Billy Merrin & his Commanders - Sam Browne (v) - 16 March 1934 - Regal Zonophone MR1297

Lew Stone & his Band - Al Bowlly (v) - 23 March 1934 - Decca F3942

Henry Hall & the BBC Dance Orchestra - Les Allen (v) - 28 March 1934 - Columbia CB751

Jack Jackson & his Orchestra - Fred Latham (v) - 9 April 1934 - HMV B6479/Victor24636

Joe Reichman & his Orchestra - Joseph Sudy (v) - 1 June 1934 - Banner 33079/Melotone M13043/Perfect 15946/Oriole 2913/Romeo 2287

The Duke Insists 1934

Paul Whiteman & his Orchestra - 9 July 1935 - Victor 25113

Garden of Weed 1934

Lew Stone & his Band - 24 April 1934 - Decca F5271

Paul Whiteman & his Orchestra - 10 July 1935 - Victor25113

Lament for Congo 1934

Ambrose & his Orchestra - 20 March 1935 - Decca F5561

Dodging a Divorcee 1935

Ambrose & his Orchestra - 20 March 1935 – Decca F5561

Hal Kemp & his Orchestra - 19 April 1935 - Brunswick 7458/7945/RL272

Paul Whiteman & his Orchestra - 9 July 1935 - Victor 25086/HMV B8641

Charles Newman - Harmonica - 12 June 1939 - Decca 2895

Copyright Terry Brown 2009

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By Tony Parker

In the annals of big-band history, there can't be a single buff anywhere who would dare to dispute Ted Heath's claim to having fronted Britain's greatest-ever, swing band (arguably the world), although there have been a great many outfits since then who have laid a claim to this very same title.

The only difference is that when it comes to scrutinising their CVs, a majority of those bands can, with due respect, at best be described as also-rans. Because in essence there has never been a band so unique, so polished, so professional and so popular as that of Ted Heath's. Furthermore, the truth of the matter is that there never will be again.

Ted Heath, was born on March 30, 1900, in Wandsworth, London, and by the age of 10 he won a prize for playing tenor horn in a brass band concert. His father was the leader of the Wandsworth Borough Band. He switched to trombone when he was in his early teens and, later, frequently had to play as a street musician due to lack of work.

While busking in London's West End, he was discovered and signed up by Jack Hylton, with whom he played until 1927. He then joined Bert Ambrose and stayed with his band until he was sacked in 1935. With some unstinting guidance from the gentlemanly Sidney Lipton, Ted joined the ranks of Geraldo. It's open to speculation whether the virtues and good habits of his new employer eventually rubbed off onto Ted, and influenced his own modus operandi as a band leader later on.

As time passed by while he was playing with Geraldo, Ted Heath's dream of fronting his own band had become visionary. He even had the layout of his own outfit firmly implanted in his mind. He wanted eight brass and five saxes, plus rhythm, which was on a par with the bands of Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey. Ted left Geraldo in 1944 to fulfil his dream, with the parting words of his employer, 'You'll regret it,' ringing in his ears.

At first, leading his own band was nothing short of a struggle, and expensive. However, with wife Moira, the two made the whole thing financially possible. Moira, an excellent lyricist, penned the words to two numbers which Ted had written: That Lovely Weekend and I'm Gonna Love That Guy. The result was two hit records, and the royalties provided the necessary finance for the band.

In many ways Ted, when selecting his choice of personnel for the band, acted very much like the modern-day soccer manager. He knew the players (and arrangers) he wanted, and he went about recruiting them. This was all part and parcel of his master plan to create the best swing band that this country had ever seen, and one that would be up there challenging the Stateside outfits in the top league.

Among his acquisitions were people like Jack Parnell, Ronnie Scott, Kenny Baker, Don Rendell, Les Gilbert, Reg Owen, Dave Shand and Tommy Whittle. Three years after forming his band, and thanks to Jack Parnell's influence over his uncle, Val Parnell, the famous impresario, the band embarked on a monumental milestone when the Sunday Night Swing Sessions began at the famous London Palladium. Every fortnightly session became a sold-out affair, they ran to well over 100 concerts and since then they have become a memorable part of British big-band folklore.

Greatly encouraged as he was with the success of those Sunday Swing Sessions, it was to America that Ted Heath wanted to take his particular sound, so that he could challenge the Stateside giants in their own backyard. However, there were complications on this issue.

Due to a long-standing and bitter wrangle between the American Federation of Musicians and the English Musicians' Union, which dated back to 1935, American bands, apart from visits to USAF bases in this country, were never allowed to play concerts. In turn, the British outfits were also never allowed to tour the States.

It was not until a reciprocal agreement was worked out in 1956 that the whole grievance was resolved. Ted made no secret of wanting to take his band to America, and so, after behind-thescenes negotiations which involved Ted, the unions and Stan Kenton, the unions backed down and agreed to a Kenton-Heath exchange. The unions' bitter dispute was at last over, and the ban was once and for all laid to rest.

Stan Kenton came to Britain and wowed the big-band fraternity. But then Ted Heath didn't do too badly touring the States either! Many will remember that his was the first British band to play at New York's famous Carnegie Hall, where first, Ronnie Verrell, with Kings Cross Climax, and then Bobby Pratt and Bert Ezzard playing Memories of You, not only brought the house down but the partisan audience to its feet.

It is well documented that at this stage tears were very visibly running down Ted Heath's cheeks. He had reached the pinnacle of his career - his golden goal. After that there were more US visits for him and his musicians in exchange for the bands of Lionel Hampton, Woody Herman and Count Basie.

With such a band of high-quality musicians in his employ over the years, it therefore comes as no surprise that over a period of time many an anecdote should leak from within the Heath camp many of which were attributed to the leader himself.

Back in 1993, when I wrote the Ted Heath biography, The Greatest Swing Band in the World, I was privy to many such tales from people like Don Lusher, Ronnie Verrell, Stan Roderick, Kenny Baker, Ken Kiddier, Duncan Campbell and Dennis Lotis. All told me stories of what life was like working for Ted - some were printable, while others were not!

One such incident helped to underline just how acute Ted's uncanny ear for perfection was when it came to his band's delivery - especially on solos - and there were a great many examples which were relevant to him being labelled the ultimate professional, as well as being a strict disciplinarian.

To this end, and if any of his musicians fell foul of his requirements, Ted would call them 'Mate' - but not, however, in any way as a term of endearment. To illustrate this, perhaps the most famous story surrounded trumpeter Ronnie Hughes.

It is, of course, common knowledge that on the original hit recording of Hot Toddy, it was Ronnie who played the muted solo halfway through the record. However, at one particular concert when the number was played, and not too long after the record had reached a high spot in the charts, Ronnie stepped down from the trumpet section to perform his solo.

The only thing was that it was somewhat different to that on the record. It took Ted about 10 seconds to spot the difference. During the interval Ted took Ronnie to one side and pointed this out to him by reminding him that Hot Toddy was a hit record, and informed him that the solo should be consistent with the one on the disc.

Ronnie, truthfully, told Ted that during the recording session he had in fact improvised and made the solo up as he went along. He explained the difference by saying that he could not remember the exact original chord sequence, and therefore he had not made any notes. Upon hearing this, Ted, in typical 'Mate'-like fashion, replied: 'Well you'll just have to go out and buy the bloody record, won't you?'

After a long illness, Ted Heath died in November, 1969. Although his music, and his band, lived on under the direction of Don Lusher, until December, 2000, it proved to be the end of a very special, exceptional and exciting era - the likes of which will never again be repeated.

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Mary Lee writes exclusively for Memory Lane from her home in Glasgow

Firstly, hello to all Memory Lane readers. I was delighted when Ray Pallett asked me to write this ‘mini-autobiography’ especially for you.

I was born on the 13th of August 1921 in Glasgow Scotland. My parents were William McDevitt and Isabella McDevitt respectively. My father was a lorry-driver for Shell Mex Oil Company and my mother a housewife. My young life was working-class but happy. At the age of 13, I noticed in the local paper 'Personality girl wanted for Roy Fox Orchestra’.

I skipped school that day and went up to a local store when the auditions were to be held. I sang My Kid's a Crooner and thought to myself I'd better be getting off home before my mother became alarmed at my absence. I heard a voice through the microphone saying 'would Miss Mary McDevitt please come to the Empire Theatre on Friday night and bring her parents. This I did and I was delighted to win the competition as the prize was five pounds. My parents and I were astounded to find the great man wanted me to join his orchestra immediately. My father told him I was only 13 and the compromise was Roy Fox would send for me when I became 14 years of age. I remember saying to my mother that ‘I suppose they'll forget all about me’. Not so! On my 14th birthday a telegram came telling me to join the orchestra at the Streatham Ballroom London.

It was left to my mother to find a chaperon for me. A lady called Alice Balnave looked after me on my travels with the band. She had lived for a couple of years in America and to my mother's eyes was the right person to travel with me. Alice was a lovely woman and looked after me with great affection. I joined the Orchestra in September 1935 and remained with them until 1938. Three of the happiest years of my life and also the best college education I could have wished. I was groomed in every way – speech, dress, manners you name it I had it. But the only thing I wasn't instructed in was singing.

Roy Fox used to say to the band-boys don't let the kid hear any Ella Fitzgerald records or Peggy Lee records. He wanted me to keep my own style of jazz singing which come from no-where but looking back the best musicians and singers came from Scotland! Don't ask me why. It's just my own opinion of course! We toured the entire three years of my stay with this great orchestra and made many records for Decca and HMV. The Radio Shows which we recorded for Radio Luxembourg were done after the show at night on stage wherever we were playing.

The line up of the Fox Orchestra at that time included Denny Dennis, Syd Buckman, Art Christmas, Jock Bain Andy McDevitt, Harry Gold, Les Owen, Les Lambert, Jack Nathan, Maurice Burman, Ivor Mairants plus two dancers Eddie and Earl Franklyn holding dummy-string guitar. They were the nicest men I have ever had the good fortune to work with. Mind you I learned later that Roy Fox told them never to swear in front of me or tell naughty stories so it was little wonder I saw very little of them just a quick 'Hi Kid' before going on the stage.

Roy Fox changed my name at the beginning of my stint. Mary McDevitt doesn't jump out at you from a marquee. I was called Mary Lee, short and sweet and easily remembered. He always announced me as ‘Little Mary Lee’. I have fond memories of my time with Roy Fox he always seemed like a god to me, always immaculately dressed in Savoy Row Suits and with Rolls Royce cars at his disposal. He had his own race-horse called 'Whispering'. It was so wonderful, I really thought I had died and gone to heaven!

We did prestige gigs like the 21st birthday party of the Earl of Shrewsbury. We did a show for Queen Mary at a west end theatre but everything just slid over my little head in those days. I only give them due regard now. The Fox band took their holiday in the month of August and in 1938 I thought it would be the same. At the end of that particular month I received a telegram requesting me to join Jack Payne's band. I was quite perturbed about this as we had no indication that the Orchestra was going to disbanded; but off I went minus chaperon to join the Jack Payne band.

I have to say this was the unhappiest time of my life. I never spoke to the gentleman except through his manager and I was happy to leave his merry band after three months. Luck was with me I joined Jack Jackson's Band. What a joy that man was! I had a fun time with his outfit but unfortunately I didn't record with either band. In fact the only recording session I did in my own right was for Parlophone. I was accompanied by most of the Fox boys as Maurice Burman had set up the deal for me.

I tired of touring and longed for a residency in London. Maurice Burman's sister Alma Warren had a super nigh-club in Soho called the Nut House and she would give me work when I was between jobs. It was a very hip place to work in those days. I did a stint at ten o'clock and another at two am. It wasn't easy but very interesting. When the band went off for a break a young fellow called George would play so beautifully on the piano. One night my pianist was sick and I asked Alma what am I to do. She said that George will play for you which he did. The boy was George Shearing - enough said! Another time Alma asked me to sit with a crowd of men at a table in the club. I thought this funny because she knew I didn't drink (and didn't mix with the customer) but she seemed determined to get me to do so. Mindful of her kindness to me, I did. They were charming boys and I took my leave of them to get ready for my act. It was a Friday and the audience noisy and I heard a loud voice shouting ‘give Mary a chance’. The whole club went deathly quiet. My boys had been the famous Messini Gang much feared in the West End. You could have heard a pin drop and I got on with my act with great relief.

I got a lot of good work from the Nut House and it left me free to take any other work offered to me. At this time I worked with Ambrose and his Orchestra on their Saturday night broadcasts from the Mayfair Hotel London. I had no contract with Ambrose just verbal and it was, I must admit, a good rate. I think Ambrose must have been on his gambling mode at this time as it took me three months to get my money. But get it I did! I was happily doing my rehearsals with Ambrose at the Mayfair and one day a young girl of about 15 years of age came in. I think she sang My Yiddisher Mama so beautifully and you don't have to be the 'brain of Britain’ to figure out the girl was Anne Shelton. And that was my last broadcast with Ambrose and Anne took my place. Such is life!

Around this time war-clouds were looming and when they did I was happily playing a week's variety in Paignton with the well-known double act Jewell and Warrris. Everything closed for tea and the next day I was back on the train to Glasgow. I hid in the loo as much as I could because I'd never seen soldiers before and felt sure they were not on our side! I stayed in Glasgow for about four weeks then back to town and work. I did a lot of work in Bristol where all the broadcasts were being done during the war. Then my agent thought I would be better off in Scotland or let's say safer so I got my first summer season in Dunoon. I liked playing in Scotland and got to learn show-business as opposed to band-singing. I stayed in Scotland for the next ten years leaving it on two occasions one to go to the Middle East to sing with Harry Roy and his band. and secondly to work in an act called 'Stars of the Air’ which featured Sam Browne, Max Bacon, Gloria Brent and myself. 'Stars of the air' was booked by Joe Collins the agent father of Joan Collins and sister Jackie Collins. They took their business sense from him.

The Harry Roy Middle East experience was good and all went well but unfortunately for me I took a nervous breakdown in Cairo and had to be hospitalized there. It took a while but I get well and back to the thing I knew best - show-business. Whilst working in a show in Belfast I met a fellow who was to become my husband namely Jack Milroy. We have worked together since 1952 to this very day. He is one of our most famous comedians in Scotland and reached the peak of his career with his comedy partner Rikki Fulton known as Francie and Josie. This will ring a bell to Scottish readers. I think the brightest spots of our career was the Royal Variety Show at the King's Theatre in the presence of Her Royal Highness Princess Diana and Prince Charles on 2nd October 1993. We met the lady who was charming but not as shy as one might think. Prince Charles said to Annie Ross the Jazz singer 'How do you walk in those high heels?’ she said 'with great difficulty sir'. It was quite a night. Jack has had honours galore and well deserved. Both of us were honoured by the Variety Club of Great Britain during the eighties.

For myself one of the happiest times was when I made myself known to dear Alan Dell to thank him for playing all my old records on his show. We talked and he recorded the chat and used it to great effect on his programme when he was playing a ‘Little Miss Mary Lee’ record. He invited me to the Festival Hall on two occasions. On the first I sang a medley of songs; the line up was Carol Kidd and George Chisholm. Roy Fox was in the audience and we were happy to become friends again after all those years. The second time I was to appear at the Festival Hall which was after Roy's death when Alan Dell paid tribute to him. The show featured Denny Dennis myself and a trio singing a al the Cubs. We did a concert version of Whispering. Denny and I sand Let's call the whole thing off and I did Nice work if you can get it. A very nostalgic night.

Jack and I have done many television shows mostly shown just in Scotland . The last radio show we did together was the Radio Clyde Hogmanay show this year, 2000. So we do keep our toe in the water. Jack is the breadwinner and I do the occasional show with him. I should tell you I was a Radio Clyde presenter for 3 years 1991 till 1994. A homely show geared to the Golden Oldies. However it did give me the chance to play all the big band stuff which was enjoyed by young and old alike. Along the way I picked up a Sony Award for the show which pleased me no-end.

I have a son called Jim and a daughter called Diana. My daughter has her own business and my son is a splendid drummer. I have no complaints. I have been a lucky lady in every way and I hope you all live to be 100 and mine is the last voice you hear! so it's Bye Bye from Jack and it’s Bye Bye from me.

Editor's note. Sadly, since Mary wrote this article for Memory Lane, her husband Jack died.

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Pardon My Southern Accent

The story of Anne Lenner

Anne Lenner, the vocalist mostly associated with Carroll Gibbons and the Savoy Hotel Orpheans had a silky voice and sung with perfect English diction yet was able to put feeling into her songs and sing rhythmically when called for. Her voice can be summed-up, perhaps as "sophisticatedly sexy".

I first became aware of her lovely voice when listening to an album of radio transcription discs made by Carroll Gibbons with Anne for a Radio Luxembourg programme sponsored by Hartley’s Jam. Not only were the arrangements really attractive but it was Anne’s singing which made the album instantly one of the favourites in my collection. Discographer Brian Rust, who wrote the liner notes to the album described Anne as one of the best three female vocalists in Britain at the time. One of the tracks on the album is Pardon My Southern Accent. Of course the song refers to the deep south of the USA, but Anne sings it with her perfect Southern Accent, meaning in her case, the south of England!

I had, in fact, met Anne several times at the Memory Lane Party Nights held in London during the 1980s and 1990s. She attended many of them and used to sing a few numbers with the band. She was one of our most popular celebrity guests. Looking back, I was witnessing history being re-made – but I did not realise it at the time. She was a most charming lady and never disappointed the many fans who talked to her at the Party Nights. Several people recently wrote to me asking for an article on Anne and amazingly I realised that although we have run articles on her two famous sisters, Shirley Lenner and Judy Shirley, we had never devoted a feature to Anne. We now aim to correct this very serious omission.

Anne was born as Violet Green on Christmas Eve 1912 to a show business family in Aylestone, a suburb of Leicester and attended the local King Richard’s Road school. Her father was Londoner Arthur Green a veteran variety artiste who had adopted the stage name of Tom Lenner and toured in reviews and variety with Anne’s mother Florence Wright (her maiden name) who also sang. Anne had five sisters, Florence (who became Judy Shirley), Maidie, Ida, Rosa (who used the stage name Sally Rose) and Ivy (who became Shirley Lenner). At the time of writing, the only sister still surviving is Rosa who is still sprightly and lives in Sussex. The sisters all followed their father into show business apart from Maidie who married a property millionaire. Anne also had two brothers, Herbert and Arthur. Herbert died at a young age and Arthur went on to become a cobbler! Sister Shirley Lenner had a successful career in show business and sung with Joe Loss among others; she died at an early age due to an accident in her home.

Anne’s first stage appearance was in a family production of acting, singing and dancing billed as Tom Lenner and his Chicks. Later Anne teamed up with Ida and formed The Lenner Sisters. Anne remembers from her early days in Leicester doing a concert at the de Montfort Hotel,  as well as singing Ramona with Ida on stage at the City Cinema,  tea dances at the Palais de Danse in Belgrave Gate and Sundays at  Aylestone Boathouse. The Lenner Sisters song and dance act ended when Ida got married and started a double-act with her new husband. Her elder singer Judy paid for Anne to have dancing lessons so she could understudy Judy in a production showing at the Loughborough Theatre.

Around this time, Anne married a dance producer of a review she was appearing in by the name of Piddock who is now deceased. They had one son Jeffrey who went into show business under the name of Jeffrey Lenner. Jeffery was educated at Bedford School but ran away to join the Ice Follies which came through town when he was in the 6th Form.  Anne’s nephew John Doyle, whose mother was Maidie, assisted with information for this feature and recalled that Anne had hoped for a diplomatic career for her son! John recalls that Jeffrey could not find work after his return from Australia where he hosted his own TV programme, which was probably the zenith of his career. He was never able to emulate the success his mother enjoyed in her earlier career. 

Unfortunately Jeffrey died following complications after pneumonia about four years ago at the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead, London near where he lived. I recall Jeffrey accompanying Anne to the Memory Lane Party Nights. John Doyle has fond memories of Jeffrey: "I hero worshipped him as a kid and he was a big brother to me. He was a terrific athlete at school and was altogether a super guy with a terrific sense of humour. He had much of Anne's charm, talent and good looks when he was younger and I was enormously fond of him and devastated by his inability to cope in later life." 

Returning to her earlier career, Anne was now performing solo at charity shows, benefits and social clubs. She was soon heard by agents who were impressed by her unique voice and by 1933 engagements in London were being offered. She appeared at Jack’s Club and the Cabaret Club where she had to perform with a megaphone! At another engagement in 1934 at Murray’s Club in Soho’s Beak Street she was heard by Savoy Hotel bandleader Carroll Gibbons.

Carroll was so impressed with Anne’s sweet and fresh voice that he invited her to record with his group for a Radio Luxembourg broadcast sponsored by Hartley’s Jam. The story goes that the session was booked for 9:30am the next morning but Anne was late for what was her first really big break. But Carroll was so keen, he booked another session with Anne for later that day. The broadcasts were so successful that Anne was given a three year contract to sing with Carroll at the Savoy Hotel. The stuffy Savoy management objected to the presence of a girl vocalist, but Carroll believed in Anne so much that he refused to give in. In the event she stayed with him for seven years.

Apart from the Hartley’s Jam programme, Anne also appeared with Carroll Gibbons in the "Ovaltineys" programme where she became known to millions of children as "Auntie Anne".

Anne never adopted the "mid-Atlantic" twang affecting many of her contemporaries. Nor did she "project" her voice at the audience. With her soft pure voice she was ideal for the typically English sounding Savoy Orpheans and fitted in very well, becoming very popular not only with patrons of the Savoy, but also with the record-buying public and the huge radio audiences. It was a glamorous world in which she was a part. Many of her fabulous dresses were designed by Colin Becke whose sister was vocalist Eve Becke. Anne recalled: "My days were always very full and time flew. I was very lucky to be singing during a period of the best song writers and I think when British dance music was at its best."

Her contract for the Savoy did not prevent her from recording just one song with Joe Loss in 1936 or appearing with Eric Wild and his Tea-timers who were regularly on pre-war TV from Alexandra Palace. Anne recalled having to wear green lipstick when on the embryonic TV station. In the same year she also contributed to bandleader George Scott-Wood’s record "Fred and Ginger Selection" where she sung Lovely To Look At and duetted with Brian Lawrance on I Won’t Dance.

Some of the other standards Anne recorded and especially enjoyed during the 1930s were All The Things You Are, There’s A Lull In My Life, A Foggy Day, Room 504, Sing For Your Supper and Broadway Rhythm. . She made over 150 titles with Carroll, both with the full band and with a smaller contingent which Carroll called his Boy Friends. It was with the Boy Friends that Anne made the Hartley’s Jam broadcasts mentioned above. These radio programmes were introduced by Jimmy Dyrenforth who introduced Anne as the "girl friend". Incidentally, Carroll and Dyrenforth co-wrote many of the songs sung by Anne on the Hartley’s shows.

Anne spoke very fondly of Carroll Gibbons. In her own words: "To work with, he was the most understanding, gentle and kind person. The boys respected and loved him. He was not only the boss but interested in their private lives and was a friend to all of them. Carroll’s boys all looked good and were very versatile, especially George Melachrino who played oboe, viola and sax and Reg Leopold who played violin, viola and sax. I loved singing with the full orchestra but also enjoyed sessions with The Boyfriends and the sweet trumpet of Bill Shakespeare. Through Carroll’s influence, I enjoyed tremendous respect and kindness from all of them."

Around the outbreak of war, Anne got married again to up-and coming actor Gordon Little who was in the Navy stationed at Portsmouth. Nephew John Doyle recalls: "My earliest recollections were of a house in Warsash, Hampshire during the war, which Anne rented to be near Gordon who was commanding a torpedo boat in the Navy at the time with the flotilla moored near Warsash. I remember there where lots of parties but  he was a disciplinarian who was not very kind to Jeffrey or myself." Anne and a friend Eustace Hoey opened the Ward Room, a very smart club in Curzon Street especially for Gordon so he and his Navy chums had somewhere to go on visits to London. The marriage didn’t last for long after the war.  Gordon apparently deserted her and remarried ! There were no children and Anne did not marry again.

Anne had left the Savoy Hotel in 1941 to be able to spend more time with Gordon.

Nevertheless she kept up her broadcasting and recording dates with the Savoy Orpheans. She also appeared on BBC radio in the weekly series Composer Cavalcade with the BBC Concert orchestra directed by organist Sidney Torch. She shared the singing spots with Denny Dennis, George Melachrino and Sam Costa, all of whom were by now in the forces. She was also in demand for ENSA shows and was called upon to sing at official Government functions and performed in front of Winston Churchill and General Eisenhower among others.

She appeared in the 1940 British comedy film Garrison Follies which also included David Tomlinson and Barry Lupino, and on another occasion her singing voice was dubbed for actress Ann Todd.

During the war years, Anne sung with a number of other bands notably Jay Wilbur, Jack White, Louis Levy, and Frank Weir at the Astor club where George Shearing was in the band. She only recorded a handful of songs with these bands. She also recorded just one song with Maurice Winnick; on the other side of the record Al Bowlly took the vocal. Anne also sung on broadcasts with the Stan Atkins’ Band around this time.

After the war she did troop shows in Austria,  Germany and Italy,  one with her trio which included Spike Milligan on vocals and guitar of whom she later said: "He is a lovely man, so talented. We still keep in touch and I visit him and his wife at their lovely Sussex home." Her overseas work also included Monte Carlo where she had a show at the Casino and in Paris where she sung with Bert Firman. She never sang in the USA although a tour was planned but was scuppered by the outbreak of war.

Back in the United Kingdom, Anne was singing solo. She could also be found teaming up with Bob Harvey for a double-act entitled "Just The Two Of Us".

Anne noticing that the entertainment world was changing, decided to retire from show business. John Doyle believes that her voice was starting to fail which may have been partly due to heavy smoking and the strain placed on her vocal chords by working without microphones during her early career. By now her marriage to Gordon Little was over and she was looking for a new direction. Following a chance meeting with an admirer from the Savoy days, she managed to get a job as a telephonist in the Civil Service working for the security services. John Doyle recalls her producing the annual Civil Service show on several occasions.

Of her later life, John Doyle has these memories: "Anne was my favourite Aunt,  she was intelligent, used to do the Times crossword in half an hour and seemed to have many interests but above all, a very big heart. She was funny, with a terrific personality, always interested and interesting, a great, natural, entertainer with a big personality. She was devastated by her only son's inability to cope with his later life and spent a lot of her later years taking care of,
first her mother, who died at 102 years of age and then Jeffrey, as well as trying to be a companion to my mother who was suffering from uncontrolled diabetes. Anne lived for many years in Edgware, north London, in an uncomfortable flat opposite Edgware station and despite her previously glamorous life, never complained about her circumstances. I remember watching a film she made about her racing experiences with the 'Bentley Boys' at Brooklands,  before the war.   I also remember being thrilled when she dedicated a song to me on the radio, called Johnny Peddler. I used to peddle my little car around at the time and thought it was all about me! I must have been all of five or six at the time!."

Anne died at the age of 84 on June 4th, 1997 at Barnet Hospital after a short illness. Anne's death certificate states the cause of death as metastatic carcinoma.  Carroll Gibbons’ widow Joan recalls "Anne was a marvellous raconteur, a very quick brain and with a strong sense of humour. She once told me that she would have liked to have been a comedienne. She suffered from failing eyesight towards the end of her life and found it difficult to get around."

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Freddy Martin And His Orchestra

A Profile by Arthur Jackson

There was a time in the early 1930s, before anyone had even thought of, let alone anticipated, such a phenomenon as the Swing era, when sweet bands produced the majority of dance music in the States, a time when leaders such as Eddie Duchin, Guy Lombardo, Shep Fields, Sammy Kay, Wayne King, Lawrence Welk, Vincent Lopez, Jan Garber, Blue Barron, Abe Lyman, Gray Gordon, Leo Reisman and many others ruled the airwaves, records, and more importantly where personal appearances were concerned.

Lombardo had the biggest name, of course, but from a personal viewpoint I would put Freddy Martin right at the top of the list. His band ran true to form with its “society band” leaning, with tenor lead, muted trumpets, a flavouring of fiddles, and strict adherence to the melody. What set it apart from the other hotel-style hands was not only the beautifully controlled approach to sweet and melodic music but also the warm mellow tone imparted to the ensemble by the tenor lead of Freddy Martin himself.

His playing was strictly non-jazz, but his tone and technique endeared him to such premier jazz saxophonists as Johnny Hodges, Eddie Miller and Choo Berry who never missed a chance to hear Freddy and what they called his “silver tone”. It was a perfectly academic tenor saxophone sound that was an integral constituent of the Martin style. Its trademark, in fact!

Freddy came from Springfield , Ohio, born on 9th December 1906, but both his parents died when he was only four years old and he brought up in an orphanage where the only thing to brighten up his life was when one of his professors introduced him to music and started him playing drums in the institute band. When Martin progressed to Ohio State University he bought a tenor sax out of his earnings from his job at a local grocery store which led to the formation of his first band.

This inspired him to find out more about saxophones, which he did by trying to sell them to Guy Lombardo. He didn’t, but the famous leader, then playing at the Music Box Restaurant in Cleveland, liked Martin’s little band and got the management to book it on  Guy’s nights off. It wasn’t big-time yet, though, and Freddy gigged around for quite a longish spell, not only in the States but in Finland with a military band which switched over to jazz, which Freddy could t play.

Back home, despite the depression then at its height, Martin got two jobs, with Eddy  Hodges and his Band of Pirates and with Jack Albin and his band the Hotel Brossert

in Brooklin. After all this varied experience Freddy decided he had all the qualifications to he a band leader himself and early in 1932 he formed a larger band which he installed at the Brossert to replace his old boss Jack Albin.

Bunny Berigan was lead trumpet and the band recorded under his name and many others like Will Osborne and his orchestra (actually it was only Osborne singing with the Martin band), Buddy Bradley, Vincent Rose, Allen Burns, Harry Woods and many other pseudonyms. Then Martin began recording for himself and really started to make a name in the profession when he took his aggregation into the Roosevelt Grill in Manhattan, the home of Guy Lombardo in later years.

Late in 1933 Martin developed a musical relationship with trombonist Russ Morgan which lasted for many years even after Morgan left the band to create his own “Music in the Morgan Manner” pinching Freddy’s “Music in the Martin Manner”.  But Martin never minded, for was starting to get hits of his own, like The Hut Sut Song,  Why Don’t We Do This More Often? , and especially Tonight We Love and its originating theme, Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto to which the Tonight We Love lyric had been added.

Emphasising this semi-classical angle, Freddy Martin went deeply into the pop classics with Bumble Boogie, Grieg Piano Concerto, Warsaw Concerto, Sabre Dance Boogie, Intermezzo, Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite and Serenade For Strings, etc as well as more conventional dance music like To Each His Own, Miss You , Cumana , Blue Champagne, Jingle Jangle Jingle, Cornsilk, Rose O’Day, Easy To Love and

in later years (1948), he had another million-seller with I’ve Got A Lovely Bunch Of  Coconuts.

All this was in the future, of course, for we left our story of the Freddy Martin Orchestra before it really took off at the St Francis Hotel in San Francisco in 1941, which in turn led to his permanency at the Coconut Grove in LA‘s Ambassador Hotel where he stayed for something like 30 years until the place got sold from under him. Throughout the l940s Martin capitalised on his many hit records which had given him a nationwide reputation as a leader capable of putting on a show in good taste without extrovert showmanship.

The Martin band featured in a few Hollywood musicals of the early forties, few of them above “poverty row” standards; sub-standard fare like Hit Parade Of 1943, Stage Door Canteen,  What’s Buzzin’ Cussin? and one or two which featured Freddy Martin’s hit record performances , like Tonight We Love in The Mayor Of 44th  Street, Disney’s  Melody Time featuring Bumble Boogie and Seven Days Leave in which the band did I Get The Neck of The Chicken.

During the forties Martin retained more or less a stable personnel, the only major change being when Jack Fina vacated the piano stool being succeeded by Murray Arnold and Barclay Allen. Vocally he used members of the band like Elmer Feldkamp, Eddie Stone and Clyde Rogers. And there were guest artistes such as Buddy Clark, Dick Robertson, Morton Downey, Merv Griffin and Bob Haymes (later Stanton). He didn’t go in for girl singers much, apart from ex-Goodman singer Helen Ward and a girl baritone ca1led Helen Rowland.

When the Coconut Grove went under the auctioneer’s hammer around 1971, Freddy Martin put together concert package that included Bob Crosby, Frankie Carle, Art Mooney, George Shearing and Margaret Whiting. Called Big Band Cavalcade, it toured the States and Canada for two or three years to great acclaim and financial success.

The Martin orchestra also did a regular September date at the Avalon Ballroom on Santa Catalina Island and worked frequently on luxury liners on Caribbean cruises. Around August 1977, Guy Lombardo went into hospital in Houston for what was assumed to be a minor operation and asked Freddy Martin to front his band for a couple of weeks, little knowing that he would never recover from what was to be his final illness. In reality Martin led the Roya1 Canadians as well as his own band for a total of three months until Lombardo’s death on 5th  November 1977.

Freddy had always been into television in a big way, alternating his residency at the Coconut Grove, where he did quite a lot of TV work with touring and another stint at Las Vegas where his band, as well as putting on their show, provided strong support to famous guest artistes. He never stopped working in mostly prestigious locations, but he always had the best band for immaculate musicianship and presentation for which he had always been known. Unfortunately Freddy Martin suffered a stroke in June 1983, from which he never recovered, dying on 30th September in hospital in Newport Beach, California, not far from his home.

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Felix Mendelssohn

by John Marsden

A true ‘character’ in London’s show-biz world during the 1930s, Felix Bartholdy Mendelssohn achieved enduring fame with his Hawaiian Serenaders. During the 1940s they made thousands of stage appearances and broadcasts and left a long and varied recorded legacy.

Felix was born on 19th September 1911 at Brondesbury Park, London. Although his father, Martin, was a stockbroker, show-biz was in his blood through his maternal grandfather, Richard Warner, a prominent theatrical agent. In giving him his famous name, his parents hoped he would be musical but, after being educated at the City of London School, Felix started work for his father. "He set me cleaning inkwells in his office. I stuck that until I could stick it no longer and ran away to sea." Finding there were worse things than inkwells to clean on a ship he returned briefly to his father’s office. "I found that most of my time was taken up in arranging charity concerts and it fascinated me." Again wishing to try something different, he joined a repertory company. "That gave me a great deal of valuable stage experience, though I only stayed with the company for six months before going back to London to manage a night club." This was The Glow Worm, near Selfridge’s, and as a sideline he also opened a dress agency.

A meeting with bandleader Harry Roy earned a commission to write a story, which was successfully published, and so began Felix’s career as a press agent and publicist. His famous name was a great asset and he built up an impressive list of clients, including Arthur Tracy, Al Bowlly, Joe Loss, Billy Bissett, Mantovani, Carroll Gibbons, Monte Rey, Charlie Kunz, Sidney Lipton, Lew Stone, music publisher Lawrence Wright, and many more. Harry Roy acknowledged him as ‘the greatest publicity man any artist could ever have wished for’, and said, ’99 per cent of my success and fame was due to his brilliant handling of my publicity’.

Felix seemed to pop up everywhere, organizing concerts, presenting prizes, writing articles, and he even composed a couple of songs which were recorded by Harry Roy in 1933 and well received. The Melody Maker (Nov. 30th 1933) described him as ‘one of the most extraordinary fellows in the business,’ and added that he had carved out a unique niche for himself. It also announced Felix’s intention to form a band of his own to handle engagements that came his way, which he had previously handed on to others.

In May 1937 the band started to record for Decca. Perhaps it was just chance that his first session included a Hawaiian song, the Oscar-winning Sweet Leilani. They were heard regularly in commercial programmes, such as "Top Hat Express" and "Café Aulait" from Radio Luxembourg and Radio Normandy. They also provided music for the BBC’s "Crooners’ Corner", a quiz programme devised by Felix which aired in 1938-9. Stanley Barnett, bandleader at the Café Anglais, was Felix’s musical director.

Ever on the lookout for something new, Felix later wrote that during this period he had become more and more interested in Hawaiian music, seeing its popularity in the States and the great appeal of South Sea films. He envisaged forming a Hawaiian band which could really swing and so lead British dance music into new spheres.

The band led by French-Canadian steel guitarist Roland Piché (anglicized to Peachy or Peachey) at the Florida Club was exactly what Felix had in mind. Born in Montreal on 10th January 1912, Roland had come to England in January 1937 to open a steel guitar school. Featuring an impressive triple-necked guitar, he played dance music in a modern, chordal style far in advance of anything previously heard in this country, and had appeared at the London Palladium in 1938-9 in the Crazy Gang Show, "These Foolish Things". Felix arranged a Parlophone recording session on 8th November 1939 but Roland was furious to find the credit to Felix Mendelssohn’s Hawaiian Serenaders, with no mention of his own name! Reluctant acknowledgement of Roland proved a running sore, but the band did its first BBC broadcast on 15th January 1940. Recording sessions continued for Parlophone and then Columbia, and Felix arranged much West End work. In January 1941, they went into the prestigious Café de Paris, doubling with Ken ‘Snakehips’ Johnson’s West Indian Orchestra. When still nothing was done about billing, Roland simply walked out and thus he and his band fortuitously avoided the disastrous bombing on 8th March.

February 1941 was a difficult month for Felix – he was also called up for military service – but it saw the creation of the Hawaiian Serenaders as a new unit in its own right, as distinct from the Peachey band playing under Felix’s name. Multi-talented Kealoha Life and Wally Chapman handled immediate engagements, and by the summer Al Shaw was leading the stage band. They were featured as a variety attraction in the transatlantic revue "Yankee Clipper", which opened on 26th January 1942 at the Metropolitan, Edgware Road, and at the end of November Felix engaged the Pulu Moe Trio. Pulu Moe and Louisa Reyes Moe had left Hawaii with a touring show at the end of 1928 to play in the Far East. Coming to Europe with ‘Tropical Express’, they were joined by Javanese guitarist Kaili Sugondo.

T

hrough 1943 leadership of the stage band alternated between violinists Davros (Dave Rosenberg) and Eugene van Schelden, while a pool of session musicians in London, led by guitarist and steel guitarist George Elliott, handled broadcast and recording dates. By early 1944, the Serenaders were joined by Harry Brooker, one of the greatest steel guitar talents ever produced in this country. Harry, who had been Roland Peachey’s pianist, insisted upon modern, sophisticated arrangements when he took over as steel guitar lead. In 1945, a young steel guitarist and dancer from Norwich – Cynthia Read – joined the show and that same year Felix achieved his wish to ‘fill the stage with girls’ as he formed his South Sea Lovelies. And what a stunning show he created. The Serenaders would normally fill the second half of an evening’s programme, and they toured the length and breadth of the country.

Television recommenced for the London area on 7th June 1946 after its wartime shutdown. Felix correctly saw it as the medium of the future, but theatre managements were concerned about its threat to their audiences. When Felix insisted on accepting a TV date on 12th July, he was banned for 32 weeks by the important Moss and Stoll chains. Although he managed to keep his show fully booked with dates at independent theatres, ice rinks and one-night stands, he lost money and this was nudged into a financial slide. Peace was made in April 1947 and he recommenced touring for GTC.

Harry Brooker quit in August 1946, his place being admirably filled by 20-year old Sammy Mitchell from Belfast. After briefly returning in 1948-9, Harry went on to lead his own band in Southend, sharing recording and broadcasting dates with Sammy, who remained with the touring show.

Felix’s financial slide continued but he resisted any reduction in the payroll. In January 1950 he accepted ‘at own risk’ an engagement at the Scala Theatre in The Hague, Holland. His company of almost fifty found themselves stranded with insufficient funds to return home. Passage on a troop ship was negotiated by giving a performance for British soldiers in the Hook of Holland transit camp.

Finances had reached such a state that in July 1950 Felix appeared in the Bankruptcy Court facing liabilities of £5,994 with assets of £1,040. He swore to repay every penny, but his health began to give way and in September he was forced to cancel all touring commitments. After an operation and radium treatment he resumed touring in the spring of 1951, but was in and out of hospital. The Serenaders did some film work and toured North of the Border, but eventually came off the road sometime that autumn.

Harry Brooker handled the final and unissued recording session of 7th September 1951 and the last broadcast was on 7th December. Felix died, aged only 40, of Hodgkins’ Disease in Charing Cross Hospital on 4th February 1952. His funeral on 7th February at Golders Green Crematorium was attended by many show-biz personalities. The broadcasting group, renamed the South Sea Serenaders, and directed by Ernest Penfold, survived and continued to broadcast and record through the 1960s.

In white suit and lei, Felix made a stylish emcee and conductor. Although no musician, he occasionally sang and had a marvellous ear for what he wanted. The stage band was much larger than the ones heard on record and Felix knew just how to present a thrilling show. During difficult years he gave the public lilting music and lovely girls. A keen cricketer, he was friendly, funny, always in a hurry, an incurable optimist, loved the ladies, enjoyed musicals, opera and ballet, and had a notorious but endearing stammer. Though engaged four times he never married. He was totally obsessed with his show and his name is inextricably linked with the beautiful and exotic music he promoted so effectively. His recordings have set an enduring benchmark of excellence.

I would like to give special thanks to Kealoha Life, Marion Mendelssohn Page, Sammy Mitchell, Cynthia Read and Edward Kirkman for their help regarding this article.

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Jack Plant - the Secret Singer

By Ray Pallett

"A singer whose voice over the air or on the records is heard by millions – but whose personality is known to few." These are the words that introduced a Pathé film clip in 1935. And I believe it is an accurate assessment of the career of Jack Plant, the singer featured in the film. If you possess 78rpms of the English dance bands, you are certain to have encountered this vocalist with almost perfect diction on records by top West End bands including Roy Fox, Ray Noble, Savoy Hotel Orpheans, Jack Hylton, Sydney Lipton, Teddy Joyce, Hal Swain plus less famous or local bands such as those led by Bertini, Harry Bidgood, Howard Godfrey, Tommy Kinsman and many others. However, frequently his name is not given label credit, or if it is, it would be a pseudonym.

Although he did not make as many records as Sam Browne he almost certainly would be in the top ten of British vocalists of the 1930s. Bandleader Sydney Kyte was another to record the voice of Jack Plant with his band and later recalled in an interview that Jack was a quiet unassuming man but lacking in personality. Perhaps this may explain why he never made to the top with a regular long-lasting engagement with a West End band. He seems only to have stayed a matter of months with each band he joined. Maybe he was a shy man, not very ambitious and certainly never got the attention from the musical press accorded to his "rivals" such as Al Bowlly and Sam Browne. It has been estimated that he made around 1,000 recordings, which does put him on a par with Al Bowlly. I have heard Jack Plant singing on a number of records but I had not previously realised how prolific his output was. But the more I hear him, the more I consider he had his own charm and style.

Jack Plant was born in Partington, near Manchester on 26th August 1896 and began his working life as a clerk with Co-operative Wholesale Society salt works in Irlam. His first singing of note was as a member of the choir at the Congregational Church in Partington. Jack was called up in 1914 and served in the newly-formed Tank Corps and spent three-and-a-half years in France. It was whilst in the army that he began to sing entertaining fellow servicemen in Concert Parties.

Following the war, Jack re-joined the CWS and also became a member of the Manchester Bloom Street Choir and even appeared in an Eisteddfod near Pontypridd in the Rhonda Valley where he won a prize. Ivor Novello’s mother exclaimed" What a beautiful voice". Jack managed to get an introduction to Webster Miller, a leading tenor at the Beecham Opera House, who brought him to London and gave him singing lessons, whilst his secretary trained him in elocution. However, his voice did not develop as expected and as it was not considered strong enough for grand opera so he took up chorus work and toured with musical comedy companies up to 1928. He appeared in many musical comedies such as The Beggar’s Opera.

Around this time renowned singer Maurice Elwin was beginning to become well-known with the bandleaders in London and introduced Jack to the world of the dance bands. He must have made a good impression because in late 1929, having apparently abandoned an operatic career, he was singing with the Savoy Orpheans with whom he was to become resident vocalist. He appears on a number of the band’s records, even duetting with Jessie Matthews on a 12 inch 78rpm, The Cat And The Fiddle selection (Columbia DX348). Jack also broadcast with Carroll Gibbons from the Savoy Hotel in London.

In 1930 he was hired by Jack Hylton to supplement his regular vocalist Pat O’Malley, although he was never a regular member of the band. The first record Jack made with Hylton was Far Away which dates from February 1930. Jack appeared with Jack Hylton at the London Palladium. During the early 1930s, Jack Plant recorded with both these bands. In fact, he took part in the historic Hylton live broadcast to America on 15th December 1931. Jack sang the opening number, a concert arrangement of My Sunshine Is You.

During 1930, Jack Plant was being engaged by Ray Noble regularly to sing with his New Mayfair Dance Orchestra. In one notable recording session Ray Noble booked him to record his own composition I’ll Be Good Because Of You. A classic recording. An observer at the time could be forgiven for thinking that Jack was going to become Ray’s regular singer. But Ray had used another singer a couple of times by then and by February 1931 this other singer had become Ray’s regular vocalist virtually excluding Jack. The other singer, by the way, was until shortly before an out-of work vocalist named Al Bowlly.

When Lew Stone took over the Monseigneur Dance Band from Roy Fox, the latter had to form an almost entirely new band for his new contract with the Café Anglais in Leicester Square. Roy had met Jack in a club and remembering him from his Savoy Hotel days hired him as vocalist. Jack Plant sang on most of Roy’s records from October 1932 to the end of 1933 when Denny Dennis joined the band. Jack appeared with the Fox band in concerts in Holland and back home at the Palladium. Among the titles recorded by Jack with the Fox band were Love Me Tonight, My Romance, Please, Here Lies Love and Isn’t It Romantic.

Jack’s next engagement was with Canadian Teddy Joyce’s band which he joined in September 1934 and sang on most of Joyce’s records for the rest of that year. By January 1935, Eric Whitley had taken the vocalist’s role. However, this was not before Jack had made some fine records with the orchestra including Then I’ll Be Tired Of You, Lost In A Fog, I Never Slept A Wink Last Night and London On A Rainy Night.

From January to July 1935 Jack Plant was the principal vocalist with Sydney Kyte and his Piccadilly Hotel band. Jack went on tour with Kyte. A number of records were made for the Panachord label and today these are in the main rare collectors’ items. If you are lucky enough to hear any of them, good examples of Jack’s singing can be heard on such titles as Stars Fell On Alabama, Dancing With My Shadow and The Oregon Trail.

During the 1930s, Jack could be heard with many bandleaders with whom he sung on records in a free-lance capacity. But he also recorded prolifically as a soloist on the more obscure labels, mostly using pseudonyms. Jack himself reckoned that he made nearly 400 records as a soloist. He recorded as Jack Gordon on Imperial and some of his 1930/31 sides for this label include: Dream Lover/You're Always In My Arms, What Have I Done, Meet Me In My Dreams Tonight, Horatio Nicholls Gypsy Melody, Say A Little Prayer For Me, Ma Cherie, Heartaches, Faithfully Yours, Vienna City Of My Dreams, Time Alone Will Tell, Sally and Kiss Me Goodnight, Not Goodbye. It should be noted that not all records on Imperial shown as by Jack Gordon are by Jack Plant. Some are by Val Rosing or Billy Scott-Coomber! One wonders what the record-buying public thought – or indeed, whether they even noticed! One interesting record on this label is Imperial Revels Parts 1 and 2 (Imperial 2359). This features many artistes and they all signed the 'wax', including Elsie Carlisle, Wag Abbey, Len Fillis and others including Jack. On the record Jack is introduced as Jack Gordon, and in the 'wax' he signed his name as Jack Gordon.

On Eclipse he recorded as Carol Porter. Some 1931/32 sides include: I Surrender Dear/Rose Of Old Japan, Lonesome, For You, Just A Song Called Home Sweet Home, Would You Take Me Back Again, Dreamy Egypt/Gipsey (sic) Moon, and This Love In My Heart For You, While We Danced At The Mardi Gras.

On Victory, Jack seems to have started in 1930 as Don Davies, examples including Dream Mother and When The Organ Played At Twilight. He then becomes G. Jack, and recorded among others Will The Angels Play Their Harps For Me, Molly, Two Dark Red Roses, After Your Kiss, Meet Me In My Dreams Tonight and Happy Days Are Here Again.

Other pseudonyms he used were G Jack, Vernon Wallace, Al Terry, Percy Clifford, Albert Carr, Don Davis and the Velvet Voice. He also supplied the vocal refrain for many accordion band records. Most of Jack’s records were made using an assumed name or as a un-named singer with a band. But on Columbia, Jack Plant did record under his own name in the early 1930s with piano accompaniments by Arthur Young, or Harry S. Pepper and sometimes with an orchestra conducted by Len Fillis. Among the titles he recorded were Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder, My Heart Belongs To The Girl Who Loves Somebody Else, When You Were My Sweetheart, You Were The Kid Next Door, Underneath The Lover's Moon, I Surrender Dear, It Must Be True, Just Two Hearts and Lovely Lady.

In the 1933/34 period American organist Jesse Crawford made a number of records in London on HMV and Jack Plant provided the vocal refrain on 6 of them, the titles being My Love Song, The Old Spinning Wheel, Drifting Down The Shalimar, Hold Me, Friends Once More United and In The Valley Of The Moon. An interesting aside, these recordings were made at the console of the Empire Wurlitzer in Leicester Square. Jesse Crawford was uncomfortable when the HMV engineers hooked up one small microphone to record the Empire organ. In fact, he protested. Victor Record engineers in the United States had told him that large theatres simply swallowed up the sound. The HMV engineers assured him that one microphone would be adequate. The results bore them out. Sound recording in England was clearly more advanced than in America! The first of these records revealed this, and Crawford was extremely pleased. Jack also recorded with other famous organists including Reginald Foort and Sandy McPherson.

Also in 1934, we find Jack’s solo records on Decca, among the titles recorded were Wagon Wheels, Beside My Caravan, Ol' Pappy and Let's Fall In Love.

Jack also recorded as vocalist with what might be called "light orchestras", rather than dance bands, for example the Splendide Hawaiian Quartette and The New Mayfair Orchestra both conducted by Ray Noble; the Columbia Light Opera Company and Alfredo and his Orchestra. In 1938 he was accompanied by Felix Mendelssohn and his Orchestra on Decca F6832 which was their second "Singers on Parade" release. On this Jack sings Time And Time Again .

Pathé filmed Jack Plant in 1935 in their series Pathé Pictorial. Dressed in black tie and dinner jacket, Jack stands before a microphone on a set made to look like a radio studio. He sings The Isle of Capri accompanied by piano and Hawaiian style guitar played on the lap. Jack is interrupted by a radio announcer (also in black tie and dinner jacket) who says they have a few minutes until they go on air. He asks Jack how many times he has broadcast and Jack replies he has lost count. When asked which bands he has sung with he says "Nearly all the leading broadcasting bands". Asked which is his favourite number, he says The Isle Of Capri and sings the refrain. The announcer says "Quiet boys" then steps up to the microphone. He announces Jack, who then sings What A Difference A Day Makes.

Jack also appears on two Mantovani Pathétone shorts made in 1939. Jack is featured with Stella Roberta in both and sings Violin In Vienna and Hear My Song, Violetta. Having viewed all these films, I think Sydney Kyte was being a little unkind when he saw Jack as lacking in personality. In these films at least, Jack comes over as an accomplished and relaxed performer.

By 1939, Jack was Mantovani’s regular vocalist making records and personal appearances with the orchestra. In 1939 Billy Butlin booked Mantovani for the Summer Season alternating between the holiday camps at Clacton-on-Sea and Skegness. Jack Plant shared the vocalist’s duties with Mantovani’s sister Stella Roberta.

In 1942, Jack joined Henry Hall’s orchestra with which he had previously recorded and stayed for a short period. With Henry, Jack could be found entertaining the troops including an ENSA tour and broadcasting on the Forces Programme from places like Wrexham and Bristol. Worthy of note was that on one such broadcast on 5th February 1942, one of Jack’s songs was Some Chicken, Some Neck. The story behind this song was that Winston Churchill addressed the Canadian Parliament in Ottawa and mentioned that the French generals had prophesied that Britain would get its neck rung like a chicken. Back in Britain, an enterprising songwriter got to work and the song was quite popular for a few weeks, although it was never recorded.

Among his other more notable engagements around this time was a broadcast as guest singer with Ambrose And His Orchestra from the Regent Cinema, Marble Arch. He sung Humpty Dumpty Heart on this broadcast.

Post war he broadcast regularly into the 1950s. His professional career ended around 1960 following a broadcast in Henry Hall’s Guest Night and an appearance in Variety Bandbox with Frankie Howerd and Derek Roy. His last broadcast was as a pianist duetting with Billy Mayerl. Not many people knew that he was a talented pianist although he seldom played in public.

In retirement he used to entertain the other pensioners in the Evelyn Norris House, just off the sea front in Worthing, a Harmony Trust Home for retired show-biz folk where he lived for the last three years of his life. Memory Lane correspondent Doug Wilkins visited him there. Doug recalls "It was infuriating. Several times I tackled him, trying to discover details of his earlier life – but to no avail. His memory was very poor and he constantly "drifted" away from anything I asked him. However, his last few years were happy and enjoyed in reasonable health up until his final illness. He was overjoyed that people still remembered him, although he had previously suffered a period of hardship and even despair including a broken leg which failed to heal properly making walking difficult. He did marry and I believe to a Roman Catholic. (I also believe he, himself, was half Jewish.) Jack had one son who came from Nottingham. As far as I know, the cause of death was heart attack whilst in Southlands Hospital, Shoreham-by-Sea. I was present when it happened. During the last couple of years of Jack’s life, I got to know him quite well, entertaining him at home and the occasional visit to the local pub. Jack did manage to recall that he had recorded a series for Radio Nottingham about his life under the title Music From The Thirties but I do not know if they were ever broadcast."

Doug Wilkins unearthed a tape of a talk Jack gave in 1972. On the tape inlay card it mentions that it was recorded at Penlee House, although Doug is unable to say where that is. Jack gives a rather sketchy outline of his career but says nothing of his family life. It was always his ambition to make records, he recalls and ends up by saying that he broke his leg in 1958 which finished his career.

Jack died on Tuesday, 21st August 1973, having been hospitalised as an emergency a week earlier. The funeral took place on 24th August 1973 at the Downs Crematorium in nearby Brighton. Doug Wilkins recalls that there were not many mourners present and the floral tributes were small in number. A full obituary appeared in the local newspaper, but the only nationals to report it were the Evening Standard and the Daily Telegraph which both gave Jack just minimal coverage.

Jack Plant was a small man, always neat and well dressed, with a voice which has been described as "plaintiff". One can detect his "operatic" background quite easily. Chris Hayes recalled "he never earned what he deserved, because he didn’t ask the fees to which he was entitled with his enormous versatility and soft warm voice." Jack had a great love of life , of nature and birds. As a young man he was a good athlete, able to run 100 yards in 10.2 seconds and an excellent sportsman; in 1920 he actually had a trial for Manchester United!

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Terry Brown and John Wright for most of the discographical information in this article. Most of the biographical material came from the previous short pieces in previous issues of Memory Lanes, Chris Hayes’ book Voices In The Air and from Doug Wilkins and Peter Bone. Gordon Howsden supplied the younger photograph of Jack, Doug Wilkins the one of Jack as an older man.

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Buddy Rich

by Tony Parker

For someone who decided to take up playing the drums at the tender age of two years old, Bernard "Buddy" Rich did very nicely on his way to becoming universally accepted as the best swing drummer of all time. His status was not only accepted by everyone in the world of big-band music, but by Rich himself: modesty never was one of Buddy's strong points!

Which, perhaps, goes a long way in explaining why he nearly always wore a T-shirt emblazoned with the words, "I'm the Boss That's Why". But the "Boss" he most certainly was, in many senses of the word. He was the man who, at the age of 69, shook off the traumas of open-heart surgery and was back flailing drumsticks and rhythm brushes and driving his swinging band forward on a concert tour of Britain within weeks of leaving hospital.

He was the boss of an instrument which he played with consummate skills and demoniac energy, and of course he was the boss of those who worked for him before he died in April, 1987. As the message on his T-shirt suggested, Buddy Rich was not a man to hide his light under a bushel. His fame did not come about overnight so there was no need for him to adopt airs and graces.

Born in New York, in September, 1917, he appeared on stage at the age of two in his parents' vaudeville act, playing the drums and tap-dancing. In 1937 he joined Joe Marsala's band, and then played briefly with Bunny Berigan, Harry James, Artie Shaw and Benny Carter, before moving on for a three-year stint with the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra.

Rich's career, of note, began when he left the US Marines in 1944 and rejoined the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra. Later he was to become an integral part of impressario Norman Granz's Jazz At the Philharmonic packages, playing in the illustrious company of such jazz giants as Dizzy Gillespie, Barney Kessel, Charlie Parker, Coleman Hawkins and Benny Carter, before forming his own big swing band in 1966.

But Buddy Rich's appeal was not just confined to the swing purist, it crossed many boundaries and touched even the most unlikely of audiences. To exemplify this, who will ever forget his enthralling display of drumnastics in front of HM the Queen, in the 1963 Royal Command Performance at the London Palladium? All this at a time when Britain was in the grip of rock and roll and Beatlemania, and the Mersey Sound was at its peak.

With the passing of time Rich was to adopt a no-nonsense philosophy, a virtue that was to become his trademark: some even regarded it as a gimmick. But not all were able to understand it - some weren't even able to get to grips with it, let alone accept. Like a couple of rather naive and wet-behind-the-ears reporters who crossed his path and found, at no small cost to their pride, that Buddy Rich was no pussy cat and definitely not the easiest of subjects to interview.

After a 1987 concert in Stockport, I was privvy to be invited into Rich's dressing room, along with these colleagues, when one of them asked why it was that he took up the drums at such an early age, Rich impatiently retorted: 'Because I was p….. off with office life'. Not surprisingly, Buddy's response did not appear in that particular reporter's newspaper!

It was obvious that neither hack had done his homework, as the other newsman stuck his neck out also, asking why Rich didn't smile and show his teeth more on stage. The reply was pure Rich vitriol, and was almost rammed down the unfortunate chap's throat: 'Tell me, son, did you come here tonight to watch me smile and show my teeth, or did you come to hear me play the drums?' My colleague's 'No comment' dignified the question.

But journalists, thankfully, weren't the only ones with whom he had a beef. There was no doubt that Buddy Rich led his band by example. When you consider his triumph over his heart condition it should surely come as no surprise to learn that he was not at all sympathetic with musicians who pleaded illness as an excuse for a poor performance. He was once quoted as saying to an ailing sideman: 'The public pay to see you play at your best, not to see you ill'. He was sent packing, picking up his P45 along the way. If necessary, even members of his audience came in for a bit of stick if, in Buddy's eyes, they warranted it.

There was the occasion when the late British actor John Le Mesurier (Sergeant Wilson of Dad's Army) arrived late, with a lady friend, at one of Buddy's concerts at London's Royal Festival Hall. Buddy fixed the lady with a riveting stare and grittingly inquired: 'Is that man with you?... He is?... Well, never trust a man who is late for a concert!' Le Mesurier didn't have to be an actor to know that he had been put on the spot by a very hard nut.

Buddy Rich was the driving force behind a band which was described by many as the most exciting outfit since the days of Stan Kenton. Although lacking the decibel-shattering force of Kenton, Buddy's band, with its controlled aggression, was certainly capable of making the Richter scale nervous on quite a few occasions. Aficionados who attended his many regular British concerts over the years will never quite be able to erase from their memories Buddy's treatments of, among other great numbers, Love For Sale Norwegian Wood and his famous show-stopping arrangement of West Side Story.

The Buddy Rich Band will no doubt continue in the same tradition as many others have done following the death of their leader. There are certain to be personnel changes, but the music and the arrangements will live on as before. Yet the absence of this particular band's supremo will leave a gap as wide as the Grand Canyon. True, the band will have an excellent drummer to drive it along (it will need to), but where in the world is there likely to be such a skilled percussive mechanic as Buddy Rich was? The two-fold answer is: there isn't, and there never will be.

Buddy Rich really was the Boss, that's why.

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Val Rosing - From band singer to grand opera

By Ray Pallett

Val Rosing will probably be remembered by many readers of Memory Lane as the man who sung Teddy Bear’s Picnic on the million-seller Henry Hall record. And because of that record, he has become one of the most-often heard voices from the "dance band days" on radio and TV. But one of the greatest mysteries of the English dance band scene is "what ever happened to Val Rosing?" It seems to be common knowledge that he went to America in 1937 but no one appears to know anything about his life and work in that country.

With the information they sent to me about Val’s work in the States and some press cuttings sent to me 20 years ago by Dennis Bigwood of Bristol, for the first time ever, Memory Lane can bring you the Val Rosing Story.

Returning to where we started with Teddy Bear’s Picnic. Back in the 1930s this record was often played – as a test piece for all BBC transmitters because it contained music with a very wide pitch. The BBC must have bought them by the boxfull. Val also aired a lot with Henry Hall although it seems he became a forgotten man. The vocalist on Ray Noble’s lovely record of Try A Little Tenderness had been a mystery for years among Ray Noble enthusiasts before the epic Brian Rust discographies were published. The vocal was by Val Rosing.

Val Rosing has been much neglected in contemporary works concerned with jazz or dance music of the 1930s; little has been written about him anywhere. I have always found his voice attractive although sometimes he sung a little too high pitched and over-employed the affect of vibrato. Like Al Bowlly, he could handle both ballads and up-tempo numbers with a unique voice that had character. In reviewing Val Rosing’s career in a sleeve note for a CD, famous discographer Brian Rust says that Val was "trained in the same strict school as his father, but who saw better prospects in the world of popular entertainment". It should be no surprise, therefore, that he made the leap to becoming a successful opera singer in what was, in reality, another life in another country. Not only was his life in America unknown to everyone in England who I quizzed on this, but his family in America had little idea of his career in England; they had certainly never heard any of the records he made here.

Val Rosing was born in London on 21st February 1910 and named Valerian. His father was a famous Russian tenor, Vladimir Rosing. During the period 1918 to 1923, Vladimir Rosing made numerous appearances in this country and the critics hailed him as "an interpreter of genius and unique emotional and dramatic gifts and also a supreme exponent or Russian song in general". Vladimir Rosing also worked extensively in America and became quite well known; he died there in 1963. Val’s mother Marie was a singer and well-known language teacher. Young Val want to Westminster School and Oxford where he studied international law. Val was a follower of football, tennis and golf. And he was an ardent jazz fan. One of his ambitions was to travel the world and write about it. Another was to become a serious opera singer.

He appeared first to come to public attention in March 1930 when he succeeded Pat O’Malley as vocalist and drummer with the Cambridge Nightwatchmen at the Café de Paris. The Melody Maker, reporting this, tipped the Oxford undergraduate to become a star vocalist. Future progressive band leader Spike Hughes was a member of the Nightwatchmen and when Spike was invited to record for Decca it led to Val recording with Spike Hughes as both drummer and vocalist. It is believed that Val’s first record was with Spike Hughes and his Decca Dents - It’s Unanimous Now and Crazy Feet on Decca F-1690 recorded on 12th March 1930.

During the early 1930s, Val can be heard on records by a number of bands including those led by Billy Cotton, Howard Godfrey, Jack Harris, Billy Hill, Harry Leader, Percival Mackey, Ray Noble, Nat Starr, Jay Wilbur and Marius B Winter. However, the first major milestone in his career was when he joined the BBC Dance Orchestra directed by Jack Payne with whom he recorded a number of titles from October 1930 to April 1931.

However, it was Henry Hall who gave him his first major break by recruiting him for his new BBC Dance Orchestra. Val broadcast with Hall and appears on the majority of Henry Hall’s records from March to September 1932 when he left the band. Other than Teddy Bear’s Picnic, notable Rosing vocals include the two Henry Hall signature tunes It’s Just the Time For Dancing and Here’s to the Next Time plus Nobody Else But Elsie, My Extraordinary Girl and one which still crops up a lot on radio and TV, The Sun Has Got His Hat On.

Val made a number of records in his own right as both a solo singer and as leader and vocalist with his own small groups. Early-on DJ Christopher Stone broadcast Val’s records tipping him to become a star vocalist. On Imperial he was billed him as "The Sweet Singer". Some of Val’s records for that label were issued under the name of Jack Gordon, a name which also covered recordings by other vocalists including Jack Plant and Billy Scott-Coomber. From Imperial he went to Rex for whom he made 10 discs from October 1933 to June 1934. Rex billed Val as "England’s Supreme Singer of Sentimental Songs" although this description did not appear on all the record labels. Val also recorded for Regal Zonophone including one duet with Kitty Masters, One Little Kiss and June in January (MR1601).

The Melody Maker, reviewing Val’s recording of A Street In Old Seville and When Love Comes Knocking At Your Door on Regal Zonophone MR 1665 for which George Scott-Wood provided the accompaniment, comments that Val is singing better than ever and he sees no reason to doubt that Val will continue to improve.

Since his early recording days with Spike Hughes, Val became acquainted with an eminent professor of singing from whom he greatly benefited, being a hard worker and a stern self-critic. By June 1936, the Melody Maker reported that Val, himself, had become a singing teacher at the London School of Broadcasting in New Bond Street who pride themselves as having a roster of the "best available experts".

In August 1936 the Melody Maker reported the formation of a swing band by Val containing such notables as Don Barigo (tenor), Frank weir (clarinet), Chick Smith (trumpet), Jack Llewellyn (guitar). The following September the Melody Maker, referring to Val as a very popular "straight" vocalist, carried the story that Val Rosing’s new stage combination was to open at the Pavilion Theatre in Liverpool on September 21st 1936. This band was put together with the collaboration of Claude Bampton. Les Cripwell, who was one of the tenors in the band, recalls from his home in Nottingham: "We had several rehearsals and the band was really top class. Then I was given a rail ticket to Liverpool. We attracted full houses and the band was a great success, but imagine our surprise when on the Friday of the first week we were given our tickets back to London. In fifty years as a pro, this was the only time I did a week’s work without being told the job would only last a week!".

Of particular interest to jazz enthusiasts were the recordings of Val Rosing and his Swing Stars and those of the Radio Rhythm Rascals, which were directed by Val. It appears that these were the same group in essence. In March, 1935 the Melody Maker reports that Val is embarking on a solo career with records for Regal Zonophone and variety appearances with his Radio Rhythm Rascals.

With his Swing Stars/Rhythm Rascals he recorded for Columbia and Regal Zonophone in the 1935-1937 period. Val sings on all the titles which I have heard. Brian Rust in his discographies does not identify the members of what seems to be a quartet. However, I have found that Len Fillis and Jack Llewellyn are present on guitar on some titles, as are Bruce Merrill on piano and Dick Escott on bass. I suspect Val may be drumming.

Reviews of the Swing Stars and Rascals records in the musical press were generally most flattering comparing them favourably with American imports of the time. It is worth noting that Val lets the musicians "have their head" rather than dominating the performance himself. However, a review in Rhythm of the Radio Rhythm Rascals playing Shine and Whispering comments "Whispering is not helped by the Crosbyesque scat singing of Val Rosing. Even Bing is bad at this type of singing, and Val, imitating Bing is worse".

In his day, Val received good reviews from the musical press, whether as a dance band vocalist or singer in his own right. In contrast, the contemporary comment there has been about Val, and there has been very little, has been mostly a lot less flattering.

Val appeared in a number of films in the United Kingdom. He can be seen with Henry Hall in a clip in which he sings one of Henry Hall’s signature tunes. In this film Val seems very relaxed, walking up to the microphone with a nonchalant hand in his pocket. He was also seen in the 1935 film In Town Tonight which starred Howard Jacobs and his Orchestra, Billy Merrin’s Commanders, Stanley Holloway and the famous sand dancers Wilson, Kepple and Betty. However, Val’s first real part was in the 1937 release Feather Your Nest, with George Formby in which he played the part of Rex Randall.

Val did his last "live" broadcast on the BBC on 24 August 1936, probably with his Swing Stars/Rascals. In October 1937 the Melody Maker reported that the ex-Henry Hall crooner had been picked by MGM in Hollywood for grooming as a future actor-singer. Val was, in fact, brought to America by the late showman Louis B. Mayer and was under contract with MGM for two years. In America, Val changed his name to Gilbert Russell. This was later made official when he became an American citizen in 1946. In America. he was known to everybody as Gil. To his family and friends in England, he was known as Valli, a name he had since boyhood.

So what did Val do, during his contract with MGM? Leonard Feather in the Melody Maker in 1940 writes that he received a telephone call from Val who disclosed that during those 2 years in Hollywood, he did nothing but draw his salary! After his MGM contract , Val went to New York and worked on Broadway as both a singer and actor. He played the leading role in Song of Norway for three years and also appeared in The Student Prince, Roberta, Music in the Air, The Great Waltz, Rosalinda, Gypsy Lady and Merry Widow both in the east and west coasts of the United States. In 1940 he went on the road with Irene Castle in a Noel Coward play.

Val then turned to the operatic and concert fields. He toured the States with the Philadelphia Opera Company and was also a leading tenor with the New York City Center and San Francisco Opera Companies. He has been guest soloist with such conductors as Sir Thomas Beecham, Arthur Fiedler, William Steinberg and others.

He received "rave" reviews in the press. The following three give a flavour:

The New York Herald Tribune: Mr Russell’s voice was prevalently appealing in quality and deftly employed in its phrasing and musicianship".

Arizona Republic: Gilbert Russell was magnificent as Faust.

New York Times: He has a strong tenor voice of excellent quality.

In television, the singer made numerous appearances including the Dennis Day Programme and The Colgate Comedy Hour. Radio appearances included The Standard Hour and The Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy Show. Some airchecks from the 1950s survive and copies were kindly given to me by Val’s widow. On these, his voice is superb with great power and artistry. He certainly bears no resemblance, as far as I could hear, to the "English" Val Rosing with whom we are all familiar.

He appeared in a number of films, but mostly they were "bit" parts. Look out for him when the following appear on television: So This Is Love, La Boheme (1953), Grounds for Marriage, Strictly Dishonourable, The Great Caruso, Light Touch, House of Strangers, Prince of Foxes, Everybody Does It, Knights of the Round Table and Brigadoon. In another film The Glass Slipper the song Take My Love, supposedly sung by Michael Wilding in the film was actually sung by Val.

With all this activity, Val was very busy in America with a successful career being billed as the star in stage productions across the country. However, I have come to the conclusion that he was not particularly famous there evidenced by the fact that he did not have leading roles in films and that he did not record commercially after leaving England.

Incidentally, in the early 1940s BBC Radio featured him in their series "Morning Star"; other singers included in the series were Ella Fitzgerald, Al Jolson and Bing Crosby. So someone at the BBC rated and remembered Val Rosing. He made a couple of visits himself to England; one in the late 1950s to see his mother and half brother Billy and another in the early 1960s at the request of George Chakiris who wanted Val to work with him on a recording session.

Whether as Val Rosing or Gilbert Russell, he had a very full and varied career ranging from crooning with Henry Hall and others in Britain to radio, films, concert and opera in the United States. Sadly, Val died at the comparatively young age of 59 on June 14th 1969 following cancer of the colon. This was particularly tragic because the cancer went undiagnosed by a trusted doctor. When it was finally discovered after 2 years by another doctor, it was too late to save him.

In the last few years of his life he became a teacher of singing. Among his pupils were Shirley Jones, George Chakiris, Natalie Wood, Celeste Holm, Peter Falk, Beau Bridges.

Val was married three times. His first wife was Meriel Carrington whom he married in London in 1932 while he was with the BBC Dance Orchestra. Val and Meriel had one daughter, Anna, who now lives in France and is an artist.

Val married his second wife Marilyn Pendry, a dancer who he met whilst working together in Song Of Norway, in Los Angeles in 1948. This marriage produced a daughter Claudia who still lives in Los Angeles and is a singer.

Both these marriages ended in amicable divorces and both Meriel and Marilyn are now deceased. His third marriage to June which took place in 1963 was only ended by Val’s death. June was a pupil of Val’s and sometimes sung with him publicly.

I asked June how Val made the leap from crooner to opera singer. She explained it as follows. "Val received a vocal scholarship from a teacher in New York. However, he was a hard worker and for the most part self taught musically. Loving singing as he did, he worked every day, read about and listened to records of Caruso and other renowned singers and his voice became more and more powerful and of operatic quality and outstanding beauty. He also had a facility and skill with different languages, particularly Italian and French which he spoke fluently."

Daughter Claudia has fond memories of her father. "I remember him laughing a lot and listening to his beloved jazz records. I’m lucky enough to have a great tape of him ‘interviewing’ me when I was 4 or 5 years old in which there’s much laughter and he encourages me to sing. My time with him was so short (he died when I was nearly 15) and sometimes when I’m doing a show I imagine him being there watching me and encouraging me. I know I got my gift from him and I think he would be proud and happy for me."

Val also has a half brother (same father, different mother) Richard Rosing who is a singer, poet, musician, composer and recording artiste. He manages sound equipment for a film and video company in Nashville, Tennessee.

Writing this article has brought me much pleasure and satisfaction. Not only is it giving Memory Lane one of the most intriguing stories from the dance band era, it has put me in touch with four wonderful members of the Rosing family. According to letters I have received, the article has brought pleasure and happiness to June, Ruth Anna and Claudia. "You have brought Gil back to us" was one comment received. I also sent them a cassette of some of Val’s English records. Ruth was "amazed at the quantity and thrilled with the quality". Claudia is planning on having the cassette remastered onto CD as a permanent souvenir of her father.

To close, his widow June, who has since remarried, remembers him as "full of warmth of personality, giving his best always as an artist, a teacher and a human being. All who knew him felt enriched by his presence. He worked hard to encourage a promising student. Gil enjoyed his teaching and cared about his pupils". Jimmy Durante said of Val "He is a ‘gentleman’ and very rare to meet nowadays".

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The Starita Brothers

The Starita brothers were three young Italian-Americans who made a big impact on the British dance band scene in the 1920s and the early 1930s. They were not difficult to tell apart- A1 (pictured  left)  wore a moustache and glasses, Rudy a moustache and Ray wore neither. Rudy, the eldest, was born in Naples two years before the family emigrated to the USA in 1902. In 1921 Rudy with his brothers formed a band which had a following, known as the 'Paul Whiteman of New England'. That was two years before Ray and A1 came to these shores in November 1923 to play with the Original Savoy Orpheans, an eleven-piece band directed by Dublin-born Debroy Somers. A1 played clarinet and alto and Ray clarinet and tenor. They were just two of a number of American dance band musicians making a living here thanks to the then liberal minded attitude of the Musicians' Union towards foreign players. The Savoy Orpheans and the Savoy Havana Band were the two highest paid orchestras contracted to EMI in the 1920s.

When Ray took a break in the States at the end of August 1925 the outfit had recorded no fewer than 284 titles, many of them with Carroll Gibbons at the piano and another American, Pete Mandell on banjo. A number of these recordings were made under the name of the Romaine Dance Orchestra and some as the Miami Syncopated Orchestra or the Albany Dance Orchestra. On his return a year later (!) Arthur Lally and future Piccadilly Hotel dance orchestra leader, Sydney Kyte, (on violin) had joined the band. Cyril Ramon Newton was directing with Norman Long as compere on some 78s. When he left the band Ray had cut another 47 sides. Ray returned with brother Rudy who had been playing in Mal Hallet's Band. He formed the Piccadilly Revels to play in the Piccadilly Hotel with Rudy busy on drums, vibraphone and xylophone. By February 1928 this eleven-piece outfit had recorded more than 100 titles, some with Ray Noble arrangements. A number were issued as the Raymond Dance Band and a couple as Ray Starita and His Ambassadors Band. Phil Cardew on reeds and violinist Eric Siday were nearly ever present throughout with American Eddie Grossbart on vocals. Ray also made a recording, I Left My Sugar Standing In The Rain, for the Dancing Championship Massed Bands concert, the other bands being Debroy Somers, the London Radio Dance Band and A1 Starita' s Kit-Cat Band , with (Bless Her Heart)

In March 1928 Ray took a seven-piece outfit into the Ambassadors Club, a three-piece brass section (initially Andy Richardson, Freddie Pitt (tpts) and Bill Hall on trombone) being added for recordings only. Rudy was in the line-up, as was bassist Arthur Calkin - for four and a half years, even recording for Ray after he had joined Harry Roy and his New Lyricals at the Bat Club in April 1931. In November 1928 the band took fifth place in the Melody Maker's Readers' Poll, Lew Stone's arrangements no doubt being much appreciated. As time passed the brass section was subject to many changes, those heard included Sylvester Ahola, Ted Heath, Lew Davis, Philippe Brun, Jack Raine and Leo Vauchant - some Jack Hylton influence here perhaps. The battery of vocalists included Betty Bolton, Pat 0' Malley, Sam Browne, Lou Abelardo and one side by Lily Morris, Truly Rural in 6/8 time! From May 1929 Phil Cardew made the arrangements, Lew Stone having become chief arranger for Bert Ambrose, resident at the May Fair Hotel. Changes in the personnel continued to be made; new faces were Harry Jacobson (p), Bert Wilton (tpt), Sid Buckman and Nat Gonella (tpts) plus vocalists Elsie Carlisle, Les Allen and Fred Douglas (Leslie's father). A note in Rust and Forbes states: "In November 1932 the Melody Maker reported that Ray Starita had not returned to the Ambassadors Club after a lengthy summer vacation ....Ray is now in America and his future movements are not known at all."

From this I conclude that he was not on the sessions of August to November when 48 tunes were recorded. It is likely that during this final period reedman Nat Star (who had a prolific recording outfit of his own for nearly eleven years) directed the band, certainly on the last three sessions. However, the output under Ray's direction amounted to 210 tunes. There was some speculation regarding his signature tune. He would open at the Ambassadors Club with Casabianca or Rudy Vallee and Charles Henderson's Deep Night. According to Rust and Forbes the former was written by Stanley Damerell, Robert Hargreaves and Tolchard Evans although Chris Hayes says Don Backy, Mariano Detto and Norman Newall. Chris favours Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler's 1930 song Get Happy as the signature tune, which the band recorded with Nat Gonella featured on trumpet. Albert McCarthy's The Dance Band Era carries a photograph of Ray's Ambassadors Band showing Ray seated with his clarinet. However, the caption mistakenly states that it is Rudy's band whereas he is, in fact, shown standing behind his brother. It would appear that Ray Starita never returned from America where he became the owner of an amusement park until his death in 1967.

By May 1924 A1 Starita had left the Savoy Orpheans and in August cut four sides with saxist Herb Finney's The Finney Tribe, a quintet that included Billy Thorburn at the piano. Around this time Al joined the Metro-Gnomes, a group founded by the singer Ennis Parkes, who was (or was to be) Mrs Jack Hylton. The outfit, which included Ted Heath, 'Poggy' Pogson and Phil Cardew toured but never recorded. In June 1925 A1 took a twelve-piece band into the newly-opened Kit-Cat Club on behalf of Jack Hylton; among the personnel were Sid Bright, Hugo Rignold, Fred Hartley, Ted Heath and 'Poggy' Pogson. During the latter part of 1926 Al made some recordings with Percival Mackey's Band and then from December, when the Kit-Cat residency ended, until the following May, the name Jack Hylton's Hyltonians was used and by March 1928 over 160 titles had been recorded. During the last ten months of the band's existence Billy Ternent was on alto.

In April A1 moved into the Piccadilly Hotel with his Piccadilly Players - only George Smith (reeds) and Sid Bright (p) remained from his previous line-up. New men included Joe Brannelly and Bill Harty with no brass section at the hotel. For recordings Sylvester Ahola (tpt), Ben Oakley (tb) and Perley Breed were added. 90 numbers had been recorded by November 1929, with four vocals by Florence Oldham. Eddie Carroll (p) and Van Phillips (reeds) came in on a few sessions, Van also having his own band at the time while Lew Stone is known to have made the arrangements for six months. There were occasions when Rudy joined the band on vibes and xylophone. As to a signature Al would open at the hotel with Do Something by Bud Green and Sammy H. Stept; it was recorded by eight British bands but not by A1 who seems to have disappeared from the scene c.1930. Certainly there is no evidence of his playing with either Ray or Rudy in the 1930s, so presumably he returned to the USA where he became a newspaper editor and died there in 1963.

Rudy Starita first recorded with his own group (personnel unknown) in July 1931 when he cut two sides under the name of Rudy Starita and his Marimba Players. It was not until December 1932 that he formed his actual band - why not before this we shall see later - a ten-piece, the personnel of which I have been unable to trace except for the singers, the excellent Elsie Carlisle and Sam Browne. Twenty five titles were recorded, the last in March 1933. He did have a signature tune, Just Another Dream Of You written in 1932 by Benny Davis and Joe Burke although he did not record it. Then for a brief period he played in an all-ladies band, (minus one, of course!) and he also made solo appearances with his vibraphone and xylophone on stage. In 1938 he played for Joe Loss and in 1942 he led The Starlites (personnel unknown) although he recorded with neither.

His recording output for other bands was indeed colossal. With Bert Firman and John Firman's orchestra, firstly under Bert's direction (with John or Cecil Norman on piano) and then under John's direction, he was on almost 1,000 sides between March 1926 and September 1932! Ronnie Munro had the benefit of his services on more than 160 numbers, on xylophone only on occasions, with Max Bacon on drums, this over a period of three and a half years in the second half of the 1920s. Six months for Jack Hylton in 1928 produced 76 titles. Shortly before his death Harry Hudson recalled that he always used Rudy or Wag Abbey on record. For Arthur Lally he featured most often on vibes and xylophone with Max or Bill Harty taking over on drums. Between January 1930 and November 1932 he was heard on 275 titles for Arthur Lally! Spanning six years he made numerous recordings for the New Mayfair Dance Orchestra under the direction of Carroll Gibbons and then Ray Noble. He also recorded 60 sides with Van Phillips Four Bright Sparks whose vocalists included Bobby Howes and Billy Milton. Between July 1940 and November 1942 - another prolific period - he could be heard with Carroll Gibbons and the Savoy Orpheans plus Anne Lenner, Edna Kaye and Leslie Douglas to name but three very popular singers. There were small groups with whom he cut only a few sides; The Caberet Four and the Versatile Four, both in.1930; four titles for Len Fillis and his Novelty Orchestra, A1 Bowlly playing guitar; Carson Robison and his Pioneers in 1932 and Ginger Johnson and his Swinging Seven in 1933.

Post World War II Rudy had a photographic store in London until 1952, then returning to America where he lived in Florida and died there on 19th February 1978, aged 78. The three young brothers definitely lit-up the dance band world in Britain, the so much-in-demand Rudy more than his brothers, it could be said. In the words of Art Noel's war-time hit, as sung by Flanagan and Allen, what more can I say?

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Jay Wilbur

By Barry McCanna

When the discography of British Dance Bands On Record, by Brian Rust and Sandy Forbes, was published in 1987 one benefit was that collectors, including me, were able to appreciate properly the enormous contribution which had been made by hitherto neglected figures as Jay Wilbur. By rights, he should have been just as familiar as Ambrose, Jack Hylton and Jack Payne, all household names in the thirties. His recorded output was equally prolific, his choice of material just as discriminating and the results were issued on cut-price labels such as the 7-inch Victory and its successors the 8-inch Eclipse and the 9-inch Crown. Since these could be bought only in Woolworths, initially for sixpence a record (the equivalent of four for 10p in today’s currency!), it might have been reasonable to assume that they would be lacking in quality. Nothing could be further from the truth, as witness those who bought them then and those who search for them now.

His neglect is ironic because as a studio director he was able to call on the cream of London’s dance band musicians. Ambrose was one society bandleader who disliked his highly-paid personnel moonlighting (or more appropriately daylighting!) in this way, although there was nothing he could do to stop them. But because Wilbur’s personnel assembled for recording purposes only, and most of the sides appeared under a bewildering variety of pseudonyms, he did not establish himself as a competing force in his own right until the mid-thirties, by which time the pecking order was well established.

James Edward Wilbur was born in Bournemouth, the year being given as 1898. Both parents worked for Carl Rosa, Britain’s oldest opera company, which held a Royal Warrant from Queen Victoria. His father was a member of the orchestra and his mother was the wardrobe mistress. In his formative years Jay took singing lessons, became a soloist in the local church choir when he was 11, and began studying the piano. In his early teens he featured in Bluebell in Fairyland, a stage musical written by Sir Seymour Hicks in 1901 and revived regularly at Christmas. He was also involved in a vaudeville act called Casey’s Court, part of which required him to be wheeled on stage. It has been claimed that the lad pushing the soap box was none other than Charlie Chaplin. If so, this could not have been later than 1910, the year Chaplin went to America with Fred Karno’s company.

Young Jay Wilbur was stagestruck, and his seaside location presented a wide range of opportunities, from straight theatre to variety. He was much in demand as a boy soprano, particularly since he could accompany himself. When he was 16 and his voice broke he decided to concentrate on the piano. This was a fortuitous decision, because the movie business was developing rapidly, and silent films needed a separate musical accompaniment. According to one account, by 1912 Jay had been chosen to play the piano in some of London’s early cinemas, went on to form one of the first cinema orchestras and developed a system of cue sheets to ensure the music was consistent with the action. However, this seems inconsistent with his prior history, and raises the question whether his year of birth should be earlier than that normally quoted.

Whatever the truth of the matter, the need to concentrate from close range and for prolonged periods on the poor quality images projected on-screen by the early "flicks" was not beneficial to the eyesight. As a result, when conscription was introduced in 1916 to replace the volunteers who had been slaughtered in the trenches during the early part of the First World War, Jay was classified C3 and given the job of a coppersmith. The purpose of this eluded me, but my wife suggested that it involved making bullet casings, and that would seem an inspired guess. Although forced to abandon a burgeoning career in the cinema, he was still able to continue playing, albeit at fashionable parties and in restaurants after he’d finished work for the day.

In 1919, the year the Original Dixieland Jazz Band toured England, Jay formed his own small dance band, and worked on the Continent for a couple of years. When he came back to England he became the musical director for the Ashton & Mitchells Agency, and supplied dance orchestras for society venues. This led to a chance meeting with Edward, Prince of Wales, who was an active socialite and always keen to try his hand on the drum kit, often to the despair of the regular percussionist, to say nothing of the band. That encounter resulted in Jay playing at Buckingham Palace on several occasions.

After he left the agency he joined Emlyn Thomas’ London Band, and in September 1923 he participated in their first recording session, although the three titles cut that day were not issued. He then reformed his own band, and after various London venues including the Piccadilly and Savoy Hotels, he returned to the Continent and played at the Hotel Bristol in Oslo and the casino in Spa, Belgium. Following that, he was asked to provide the ship’s orchestra for a luxury cruise to the West Indies. When the liner berthed at New York he took the opportunity to meet as many of that city’s bandleaders and musicians as possible. They included Paul Whiteman and André Kostelanetz, and the experience brought home to him the growing importance of orchestration to successful dance band performance.

The next firm date is March 1926, when he recorded two sides with Van’s Ten, a numerically correct tag for Leon Van Straten’s Orchestra. He was involved in further recording sessions with them but only those for the cardboard-based Duophone label were productive. He was replaced during February 1927, and this was probably when he again assembled his own band, this time to play at the Tricity Restaurant in the Strand, where he took over from Ben Blue and his Band. He left in the autumn of 1928, and was succeeded by Joe Kosky (who later, as Joe Kaye, played violin in Nat Star’s band). The reason for his departure was to take up the post of musical director with Dominion Gramophone Records Ltd., a newly-formed company with a share capital of £150,000. This is perhaps a good point at which to mention the persistent rumour that Jay’s surname was actually Blinco, because whether or not that was the case, it is the name James Edward Wilbur that appeared in the list of the board of directors of the company.

The studio orchestra which he put together for Dominion featured a highly sought-after first trumpet in the person of Max Goldberg, with whom he had played previously, and who at that time was recording with Arthur Rosebery’s Kit-Cat Dance Band, Jay Whidden’s Band and Bert Firman’s various ensembles. Tony Thorpe who, like Max, later joined Ambrose’s band, was on trombone and the pianist was Billy Thorburn. Most of their recordings were issued under pseudonyms, no doubt to make it appear that Dominion was a larger enterprise than was the case. They also provided the musical accompaniment to various singers (including a risqué Elsie Carlisle, discreetly masquerading under the nom-du-disque of Amy Brunton). Unfortunately the label barely had time to establish itself before the Wall Street crash, and it was an early victim of the Great Depression. Having begun with high hopes, by mid-1930 the Dominion Company had ceased trading.

One door had shut but, true to the old saying, another one opened almost immediately. In July 1930 Jay Wilbur announced in The Melody Maker that he had accepted the position of musical director to the Crystalate Gramophone Manufacturing Co. Ltd. of Tonbridge, Kent. As established producers of the cut-price Imperial and Victory labels they were far better placed than Dominion had been to weather the economic storm. Furthermore they were keen to expand their British dance band output, rather than continuing to be dependent on American masters, and had just opened their new recording studios in Broadhurst Gardens, West Hampstead for that purpose. The colour of the Imperial label was changed from mauve to red to mark the new era, and Jay began an association that was to last for thirteen years.

One of his first credited sides, Adeline on Imperial 2355, is interesting, because two takes were issued. The first take employed the vocal trio of Al Bowlly, Les Allen and Jack Plant, but a later take 4 is purely instrumental, and both are well worth looking out for.

At the end of January 1931 the last Victory side was cut, and that label was superseded by Eclipse, together with a proliferation of the pseudonyms under which Jay’s recordings were sold in Woolworths. The Hottentots and The Biltmore Players were joined by The Ambassadors Twelve, The Connecticut Collegians and The Radio Serenaders to name but a few. As mentioned already, he appeared under his own name on Imperial, but towards the end of 1932 that practice ceased and the label became dedicated solely to Jack Payne before being phased out altogether at the beginning of 1934. His recordings continued to be released on Eclipse, still mainly under aliases, and were featured also on some Broadcast 4-in-1 sides but in mid-1933 he reappeared under his own name on the new Rex label (which was styled "The King Of Records").

The final stage of this revamp took place in mid-1935, just as the Eclipse label passed its one-thousandth issue, after which it was discontinued and replaced by Crown. This new entry (out of the same stable as Imperial and Rex) maintained the practice of cloaking Jay Wilbur’s identity. Even more pseudonyms were generated for the purpose, of which perhaps Manuel Espinosa and his Rumba Band was the most exotic! In 1937 Crystalate was acquired by Decca, at which point the Crown label was discontinued.

In the meantime Jay had secured his own radio programme on the strength of his recording success. Radio was not an entirely new medium to him, because he had begun broadcasting with small string orchestras in 1927, the year the BBC became a public corporation. Then however light music had been seen as a necessary evil, now it was de rigeur. As a result of the popularity of Melody From The Sky, which began in April 1936, Jay continued to broadcast - most memorably in the series Music While You Work and the wartime comedy series Hi Gang, which was broadcast from Bristol, whence the BBC Variety Department had been evacuated on the outbreak of hostilities.

The latter programme featured the American couple Ben Lyon and Bebe Daniels, who had settled in England, as well as Vic Oliver, the son of an Austrian baron, who had begun his career as a conductor and classical violinist. It was when the latter turned his talents to comedy that he met and married a young chorus girl, thereby becoming Winston Churchill’s son-in-law! The fast pace of the show was exemplified by its theme tune I’m Just Wild About Harry, and Wilbur was assisted by vocalists Sam Browne and The Greene Sisters. One measure of its success was that the cast starred in a 1941 film adaptation also entitled Hi Gang.

In May 1942 the series finished, after which he and his band toured extensively as part of the war effort. In consequence recording sessions, now with his Hi Gang Orchestra, became far less frequent, finishing in September 1943. The war was not without its tribulations; his son, an aerial photographer for the RAF, had been killed in 1940 at the age of 21. It seems probable that it was this loss, coupled with an unremitting work schedule, which led to a deterioration in his health and eventually he was ordered to take it easy.

That was the end of an era, not just for Jay Wilbur, but for dance bands generally. On his return he faced a very different scene, to which he adapted with typical resilience by carving out a new career in light orchestral music. He left England in 1946 for New Zealand, resettled in Australia in 1948, and broadcast regularly with his 18-piece orchestra in a programme called Music Hath Charms. But his wanderlust continued, and in 1958 he moved to Capetown, where he broadcast on Springbok Radio with his Firestone Strings. He died in Capetown in 1970.

Unlike some other band leaders, Jay Wilbur was very highly regarded by those who had the pleasure of recording under his direction. One of them recalled his efficiency; there were none of the usual tests or changing position for balance. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. The musicians, whose studio work was sandwiched in between live evening appearances, knew that they could get on with the job in hand and not have to hang about unnecessarily. There were many bandleaders who insisted that their own name had to be carried on the label. Jay Wilbur knew that what mattered above all else was the music, and that is what he provided in abundance.

I know of only one LP devoted to Jay Wilbur, which was Hi! Gang on Decca Recollections RFL 21. Since the advent of CDs Vocalion has issued three volumes, namely Sing, Baby, Sing (CDEA 6016), We’ll Meet Again (CDEA 6071) which was centred on the Rex recordings and from my liner notes for which this article has been adapted, and Round About Regent Street (CDEA 6090) which concentrated on the Crown era. Timeless mine the same seam on CBC 1-047, which compilation comprises recordings by the Rhythm Rascals and The Swing Rhythm Boys, plus Sid Phillips. It’s also worth bearing in mind that Jay Wilbur directed the studio orchestra accompanying singers on the Rex roster, including Bebe Daniels and Elsie Carlisle. That is but a fraction of the enormous legacy of his recordings, yet they stand as testimony to his work as a true professional.

Barry McCanna ©

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