Some fun and challenging pieces I recently did in preparation for the 2008 World Championship of Old-Time Piano Playing and for the Joplin Festival in Sedalia. More themed stuff later in the summer.

Arthur Schutt - 1926: While Schutt was not a prolific composer, he was still an extraordinary and challenging one. He was known more for his awesome technique on records, which brought new life to the pieces of Phil Ohman, Roy Bargy and other contemporaries. This piece and Ghost of the Piano from the previous year remain his best known, and Bluin' perhaps his most feared. Starting out with an intimidating set of long reaching left hand chords it doesn't let up for at least three minutes. When dissected, this piece, like most novelties, is made up largely of patterns. Executing those patterns is still a challenge, but adding some variations here and there to tune it to a particular player's style does help, as I've done on the repeats for both the A and B sections. Going into the trio, both the player and listener are delighted and challenged by a series of whole tone chords and scales. Then the real fireworks begin in the 32 bar trio. I worked with this piece for a couple of years before my arm was broken in 2002, but took it up again in 2008 and found it to be a little less scary, so have run with it. Or at least sauntered. It is also now in the live repertoire, so one can hear it at one of my concerts or festival appearances, but no guarantees on whether me or the piano come out alive!

Copyright ©1926/1954 by Robbins Music Corporation.

Tishomingo Blues

Lyrics

Spencer Williams - 1917: When Williams was just starting to garner some attention as a composer and performer, he came out with this fine piece which has since become a standard. Tishomingo refers to a county in Mississippi, an area where much of the delta blues style originated. Originally the province of the Chickasaw tribe, it was formed in 1870 and was one of the centers of black settlements in post-slavery days. While this is not a blues in the traditional 12-bar format, it still has the same bluesey tone within its 32 bar chorus, a common format in the 1910s and 1920s for many songs with "blues" in the title. Williams manages a wistful feeling and longing for home, later found in the 1926 hit Deep Henderson by Fred Rose. This piece will also be familiar to listeners of A Prairie Home Companion, as host Garrison Keillor has long used the piece off and on with a modified lyric to open the show. There are hints of pianist Marvin Ash within this performance, which includes the seldom-heard verse.

The Glow Worm
(Das Glühwürmchen)

The Glow Worm
(Shorter Version)

Lyrics

Paul Lincke (M), Heinz Bolten-Backers (German Lyrics) and Lilla Cayley Robinson (English Lyrics) - 1902/1920: I will be the first to say that this piece has never been at the top of or even on any list of my favorites, even though I (as many of my generation and before) have known it since I was - well, I can't even remember when I didn't know it. However, following a surprising number of requests over the years I finally got up early one day and dug into the worm finding some pleasant surprises. For starters, it is not just a simple little song. First included in the opera Lysistrata by the German team of Lincke and Bolten-Brackers, the original publication was actually a fairly complex intermezzo or idyl (tone poem), and without the lyrics it is quite classical in nature. It is perhaps the simplicity amidst the complexity that makes this piece so appealing to so many, and why it was recorded and performed so often throughout the 20th century, including schools (like my own Millikin Junior High) around the world. In 1920 it was incorporated into the Broadway show The Girl Behind the Counter with new English lyrics by Robinson. Since then, favorite versions include those by The Mills Brothers as arranged by Johnny Mercer (who retooled the piece with additional new lyrics), Bette Midler, and the hard-to-avoid Spike Jones and His City Slickers. In keeping with the intent of the composer and respecting the work that went into the arrangement, the first nearly five minutes of the performance are more or less as represented on the printed page. The recap to the end, however, is more in keeping with stride and ragtime takes of it, including a slight nod to Jo Ann Castle's 1960s single of the piece. Also, just so you know, the little incandescant wigglers are actually bioluminscent insects, not larvae, which come in a variety of hues. The females glow in order to attract males, and the males glow in order to detract predators. As the worm turns, I came away from recording this piece with a glowing feeling for sure.

Johannes Brahms - 1872: Brahms? One of the three Bs? In a ragtime page? Actually, some of the material he wrote translated to or in some cases was a precursor of syncopated styles that would appear within a half century of this piece. Even some of the ragtime era waltzes like Scott Joplin's Bethena had some elements of Brahms' famed waltzes in them. The Hungarian Dances were a set of 21 pieces calling on existing Hungarian folk strains and published for piano 4 hands, later followed by the first 10 of arranged them for solo piano. They were quite popular in their day and provided a decent continuing income for Brahms during his lifetime. This particular one has long endured as the most popular and recognizable of the dances, used in popular media like cartoons, movies, and even video games during the past century, often to suggest an Eastern European setting. Anton Dvořák orchestrated this dance as well. Translation into ragtime just requires a little massaging and infusing a few syncopations. This particular rendition was inspired by Lou Busch from his album Joe "Fingers" Carr Plays the Classics in 1954, and is an expansion of his take on the piece that actually follows the original dance more closely than his track. Unlike other classically-based rags like Russian Rag and Hungarian Rag, this amounts to more of an arrangement than a new composition, but is in the Contemporary section due to the unique nature of the arrangement. There are many familiar novelty patterns throughout, and some Zez Confrey style bass in the third section, padded with a couple of extra measures to even things out. The introduction and transitions are added for separation of ideas, and the ending flourish also calls on Busch for flashy purposes only. When performing this at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts I asked if there were any Hungarian dancers in the audience. Surprise! There were - and from Europe at that. But no dancing was forthcoming. You are, of course, allowed to strut your stuff at home in front of the computer. Just make sure your webcam is not broadasing live!

Arrangement Copyright ©2008 by Bill Edwards and Siggnal Sounds.

Everybody Loves My Baby

Lyrics

Spencer Williams and Jack Palmer - 1924: This was the first of a pair of "baby" songs by Williams that culminated in I Found a New Baby two years later. Williams was doing very well in the 1920s with consistent hits, some in league with Clarence Williams (no known relation), and succeeding as a publisher as well, something a black person was less likely to have done prior to 1900 due to cultural restraints. This piece is cleverly worded by Palmer, allowing for any race to sing it effectively (another fine selling point), and it includes contemporary slang like "sweet patootie" It is clearly intended to be sung by a male. The minor verse, done here in more of a blues style in the beginning, leads into a chorus that spends equal time in the minor and major modes. After the bluesy chorus the tempo picks up for a rollicking stride rendition of the tune. There are nods in here to ragtime friends Jeff Barnhart (who does a fine rendition of the piece) and Brian Holland (from his arrangement of the follow-up song). Comparisons of Everybody Loves My Baby and I Found a New Baby (the price of everybody wanting one's baby) will show that the chorus of each is mostly the same save for the 8 bar bridge. If it ain't broke, why fix it.

Copyright ©1924/1952 by Warner Music.

Animals were long a popular genre in music, even before ragtime. However, early popular music forms allowed more flexibility in capturing some of the noted characteristics of animals, both domestic and wild, in a more stylistic manner. Here are some more examples ranging from bugs to reptiles and other interesting specimens.

Scott Joplin - 1896: Waltzes were both ubiquitous and plentiful in the 1890s, and while other music forms were in flux, the waltz was still a reliable staple. To modern ears, however, they seem to go on forever, and they often do. In fact, many compositions would use the terme waltzes instead of waltz, given the number of sections in a piece. Joplin also proved himself to be a capable waltz writer in this early effort. His forceful 2/4 introduction leads into a gentle waltz that grows in complexity and intensity through second section, taking a breather in a nice minor strain. There is some nice development in the D section and a hint of syncopation in the E section with the right hand chords. Another gentle strain and another development eventually leads us back to the A and B sections. There are no prominent indicators of his ragtime propensities here since they were not yet fully realized. Joplin's sense of harmonic patterns and completion of phrases is very evident, however, as is his judicious use of either 16 or 32 bars as necessary to complete a musical idea. The piece was published in his native home of Texas, but it is unclear if "Harmony Club" refers to a place of business or one of the groups he performed with.

Arthur Marshall and Scott Joplin - 1907: This is the only other collaboration between Joplin and Marshall after Swipesy in 1900, and is likely to have been written no later than 1905, as both many had gone on to different lives by this time. It is an elegant and regal piece, and Marshall told historian Rudi Blesh that he was responsible for the entire contents, but there are hints that Joplin had a hand in it. It was published in New York City at a time when Marshall was in Chicago, so Joplin was most likely responsible for the submission of the piece. The opening section has very little syncopation, relying on chords to carry the melody. The B section has some Joplin touches, including sustained notes under the melody and the last four measures that tie into the idea of the A strain. There are hints of the idea of the rhythmic break that would be prevalant in the jazz age within the trio. After introducing the trio melody a nice descending treble strain takes that break, but only once in the section, another unusual an innovative move. The final section is clearly Marshall shining through, and it has the feeling of banjos playing a happy strain, reminiscent of how Joplin would handle the last section of Wall Street Rag two years later. The title, which may have been chosen by Marshall, could possibly be a reference to a riverboat, many of which were named something or another Queen during their heyday.

Edward "Kid" Ory - c.1925: Of all the traditional jazz standards in the history of the genre, this one still remains in the top ten among fans and musicians alike, in part because of the KISS (keep it simple stupid) paradigm. Ory started out on banjo in New Orleans, but switched to trombone after a few years. He then moved to LA around 1919, one of only a handful of N.O. musicians to do so. At this time he wanted to also add saxophone to his skillset, and it was while practicing this instrument that he came up with this simple but catchy melody, a variance on The Old Cow Died and Brock Cried from New Orleans. After working with it he decided to tuck it away for future reference. That was in 1921. It emerged a couple of times over the next few years, but nothing much came of it. After subsequently moving to Chicago, Ory was in a recording session with Louis Armstrong and they ran short of a side. He pulled out Muskrat Ramble (which Lil Armstrong allegedly named on the spot) and they quickly worked it out, making the first official recording. It was a hit in very short order. However, when it came time to release it, the publisher and record label both reportedly wanted to avoid the rodent-centric connotation of "rat" in the title, and renamed it variously Muskat Ramble or Muscat Ramble, equating it to a particular European wine instead. (The real muskrat is a fairly large aquatic rodent indigenous mostly to the Mid-Atlantic states of North America.) No matter the title, it is still performed somewhere in the world almost every day, and virtually no traditional jazz band or pianist is missing this from their repertoire. The opening chord progression was, I am guessing, in standard use well before Ory took it on. Scott Joplin uses the first ten bars of this same progression in Searchlight Rag, which you will hear briefly in the final chorus of this performance. A piano reduction of such a dynamic band piece is always challenging, so I have simply tried to keep the requisite improvised choruses to a minimum for the sake of avoiding monotony given the limited timbre possibilities of the piano. Note that there was one obvious lift of this song in the 1960s by Country Joe (McDonald) and The Fish, who added words to it for a Vietnam War protest song titled I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixn'-to-Die Rag. A lawsuit filed in 2001 some 36 years after their initial recording was settled in 2003 and on appeal in 2005 in favor of McDonald because so much time had passed, but also attests to the universal appeal of this catchy tune. So (with apologies to Captain and Tenille) get ready to engage in some fun Muskrat Love.