HOPE FOR THE BEST…EXPECT THE WORST

Perhaps the best advice Mel Brooks has passed along is in the lyric from one of his earliest films, “The 12 Chairs.” Set to what was originally a folk song or dance from Hungary, Mel wrote: “Hope for the best. Expect the worst.” The Boy Scouts may have shortened it to “Be Prepared,” but that doesn’t quite capture the truth about life, does it?

Below, you’ll find four versions of the melody.

While blacks and Latinos glumly insist the white man stole their music, the “adapting” or “borrowing” of folk melodies is as old as the Jew's harp and the nose flute. Brahms, Liszt, Dvorak and others were seizing on new etnic sounds long before The Weavers turning a crappy bit of monotony into “Wimoweh.” They did it long before Paul Simon mated some of his best lyrics to what he called an “American Tune,” but was actually an old German melody based on Hans Hassler’s “"Mein G'müt ist mir verwirret,” which was borrowed by Bach.

My own favorites in this genre are the "Slavonic Dances" from Dvorak and the "Hungarian Dances" from Brahms. The masters did go out and visit obscure small villages to find exhilerating new rhythms and styles. Mostly, in this era of no-copyright, the masters were free to do as they pleased, especially as they usually improved upon the folk melodies. The only major grunt came from Bela Keler, who was irked to discover his “Bártfai emlék" (Memories of Bártfa) now sportig the title Brahms' Hungarian Dance #5. Brahms, ala Pete Seeger, who didn't know the droningly boring tune he turned into "Wimoweh" was written by Solomon Linda, Brahms simply responded that he had no idea it was an original piece and not a folk song. His bad.

By the 20th Century, turn-around was fair play, and plenty of Tin Pan Alley hacks were foraging through public domain classical music, looking for melodies to inspire new lyrics. The Russian romantics were especially prey to the hack henchmen, with “Tonight We Love” and “Moon Love" swiped from Tchaikovsy and “Full Moon and Empty Arms” ripped from Rachmaninoff. Among others.

Brahms’ “Hungarian Dance #4” became “As Years Go By,” and was a hit for the irritating operetta hero Nelson Eddy. A few other guys put out over versions, as did a popular female of the day, Evelyn Knight. A far more compelling and ambitious version would later be recorded by the great Mezzo-Soprano Rise Stevens on her ten-inch album “Symphonic Songs.” For non-opera fans, a Mezzo is MUCH easier on the ears than an outright Soprano. Rise, who just missed making it to 100, was my favorite Mezzo, and I was glad to get an autographed photo from her. My sentimental favorite soprano, if anyone cares, was Victoria de los Angeles, but there was certainly a lot of competition. Gee, wish I'd seen Carol Neblett do her topless version of "Thais." But I digress. As you’ll hear, following about 20 seconds of romantic (or spooky) gypsy violin, her magnificent voice joins in a vocalise before she tackles the actual lyrics from Pete De Rose and Charles Tobias:

As years go by this love we know, as years go by, will live and grow. It will remain our love refrain, like songs of long ago. When autumn calls and leaves that fall are soon forgotten a brook runs dry and birds may fly away. As years go by and youth has fled, when silvery hair has crowned your head, you’ll still have me, I’ll still have you to love as years go by…

It's a bit of an irony that many of the Hungarian and Slavonic "dances" adapted by Dvorak and Brahms were not exactly suitable for dancing, as they were given the classical composers' full range of arrangement, including pensive slow moments that would leave dancers utterly confused as to what to do next.

I’m not sure if Mel Brooks was inspired by the original Brahms classical piece, or by “As Years Go By.” Either way, his lyrics suit the music for a film that is, in essence, an old folk tale from Czarist Russia. The screenplay was based on a novel by Ilya Ilf & Evgeny Petrov, first published in 1928. Mel’s movie came out in 1970. An irony is “12 + 1” aka “The Thirteen Chairs” was in production around the same time. It limped into theaters where critics found it a hodge-podge mess with an international all-star cast tryng to outshine each other. Orson Welles, Terry-Thomas, Vittorio Gassman, and in her last screen appearance, Sharon Tate, all had their moments as they fulfilled Mel's warning, "Hope for the best...expect the worst."

AS YEARS GO BY, RISE STEVENS

AS YEARS GO BY, EVELYN KNIGHT (caution, scratchy sound from this 78rpm oldie)

HOPE FOR THE BEST, EXPECT THE WORST - from "THE TWELVE CHAIRS"

BRAHMS HUNGARIAN DANCE #4 by YEHUDI MENUHIN

BOBBY COLE - Atlantic City - “THE END OF A LOVE AFFAIR”

Back on February 19, 2006, this blog came to life. One of the first posts on that date was for Bobby Cole. The point of the blog was to call attention to deserving, unique and neglected artists…not to make the lives of creative people more difficult by stealing entire discographies. Unfortunately too many bloggers, usually mediocre-minded selfish vainglorious assholes in useless countries like Holland, Croatia and Brazil, discovered they could get “nice comments” and be considered “hip” if they gave a daily load of freebies to cheapskates and greedheads.

Blogging turned pretty ugly, with various blogger-idiots feuding with each other, deleting posts, and getting indignant if somebody re-upped “their” files without “credit.” Need I go on? While egocentric short-sighted small-minded bloggers kept behaving like insane red ants and mindless dung beetles, letting people “discover” the complete Beatles discography or every Talking Heads bootleg ad nauseum (and usually with threats to delete if not enough praise was heaped), this blog continued on with its mission. For a long, long time, the mission was to reward creative artists, and let them know that their work is not forgotten. The reward here, was getting comments like “I never heard of this artists before” and getting praise from many of the artists themselves, who were happy that ONE track off an album and a good write-up showed that their work was still appreciated and valid.

Many of the artists you find on this blog had a hit at one time, maybe several years’ worth of rave clippings from critics, or just enough praise and work to continue pursuing the dream via gigs and maybe another one-shot record deal for a single or an album. Bobby remained a “saloon singer,” as difficult as that career was, and always was rewarded with warm praise from the journalists who covered the nightclub scene. Here’s two reviews from a 1975 visit to one of his favorite towns, Pittsburgh. Back in New York City, his name and photo appeared along with the better known jazz pianists of the day such as Andre Previn and George Shearing. You can imagine the slight pang he felt when he got publicity for a gig, but the newspaper somehow called him “Buddy” Cole. Well, that’s show biz…something the idiot bloggers, offering daily download links like a farmer slopping the hogs, wouldn’t understand. They think they’re in show biz, as they spend their last days collecting social security and pretending they live somewhere that matters. Sad. Very, very sad. And destructive. Fewer record stores, fewer old artists bothering to make new music when they can't profit by it, etc. etc. etc.

Here’s “The End of a Love Affair,” from a Bobby Cole show in Atlantic City. While some in his circle were never too sure about Bobby’s friendship with a shifty-eyed snaggletooth named Dimitri, the guy was a loyal supporter, go-fer, or whatever, and I think he may have set up the tape recorder and microphones for this show. With the microphone close to Bobby, and the crowd apparently seated a decent distance from the stage, there’s very little “noise” on the tracks. It’s just Bobby in a familiar mode, jangling the piano keys in a variation on Erroll Garner, one of his favorite performers. At the time Bobby was also experimenting with adding vibrato at the end of some of the lyric lines. This experiment didn’t last too long.

So I walk a little too fast
And I drive a little too fast
And I'm reckless it's true
But what else can you do
At the end of a love affair
So I talk a little too much
And I laugh a little too much
And my voice is too loud
When I'm out in a crowd
So that people are apt to stare
Do they know, do they care
That it's only
That I'm lonely
And low as can be
And the smile on my face
Isn't really a smile at all…..
END OF A LOVE AFFAIR -- live in ATLANTIC CITY

Maybe a few out there remember TIMMIE ROGERS? "OH YEAHHHH!"

Celebrating “Black History Month,” here’s a download from Timmie Rogers.

“OH YEAH!!!”

It’s doubtful too many on the planet know who Timmie Rogers is, or that “Oh YEAH” was his cool catch-phrase. He did make it to the Ed Sullivan and Jackie Gleason-type variety shows in the 60’s, but was eclipsed by Flip Wilson, Cosby, Pryor and others. During the comedy record boom, he put out one stand-up album. Godfrey Cambridge put out four. Oh well. Not everybody has all the luck.

Detroit-born Timothy Ancrum (July 4, 1915) had a rough and tumble childhood, which included dancing in the street for spare change. Eventually, he was dancing on stage, one half of Timmie & Freddie. They toured for a dozen years before Timmie decided to go solo.

He made some decent money as a songwriter (nothing too well known, although some might remember Nat King Cole’s’ "If You Can’t Smile and Say Yes.”) He didn’t make too much as a singer, whether it was straight tunes or novelty numbers. But in stand-up, he did pretty well. He wasn’t forgotten by some of his colleagues; he turned up on an episode of “Sanford and Son,” the same show where Redd Foxx gave breaks to a lot of old-timers, and turned LaWanda Page, a former fire-eater and exotic dancer, into the unforgettable “Aunt Esther.”

But…Timmie didn’t quite become a regular on “Sanford and Son,” and has yet to be rediscovered for his pioneering work (which included coming out onstage sans any Pigmeat Markham extra black on his face, and with no Mantan stereotypical faces and preferring a "normal" suit and tie to some Mabley type of shabby and brightly colored outfit).

Below, oh, just one of his novelty numbers, no doubt influenced by Chuck Berry, written by Kal Mann and Bernie Lowe. Will you be amused? “OH YEAHHHHHH….”

TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER! (TIMMIE ROGERS)

Chinese Lives are Funny - Cab Calloway and “Chop Chop Charlie Chan from China”

With all the looting, rioting and moping, you’d get the idea that all over the world Blacks are persecuted, and not given a break because, er, uh, why exactly? The color of their skin? As if red skin or yellow skin or brown skin is so fabulous? Or because blacks have flatter noses? As opposed to, what, Asians who have those weird eyes? And why doesn’t anyone care that Jews have been persecuted all over the world for 2000 years, not just in the Southern-Idiot part of the South where an entire Civil War was fought on behalf of black freedom?

The truth, of course, is that we’re all HUMAN, and most minorities are going to be disliked unless they make themselves useful. Like the Jews being comedians, lawyers and accountants (or all three at the same time). Like Asians doing the laundry and giving great take-out food. Like the Pakistani or Indian driving the cab. Find a way to ingratiate yourself with the majority, and you’re fine. Be lazy and obnoxious, and expect everything on a platter even when you’re offered an education and all kinds of breaks…and no, you’ll have to go further. You might create ISIS and demand that everybody believe in what you believe or they DIE. You get a machine gun and destroy a magazine office, or a disco. You might be one of the Arabs who thinks they get goats to fuck in heaven if they destroy a famous building in New York City. Maybe you put on idiot face-paint or carry an idiot-sign, and then go to the Capital and beat up police and pose with souvenirs like Nancy Pelosi’s property, all because an asshole President told you to, and an elected jerk named Hawley provoked you by strutting into the building waving his fist in the air. Maybe your for or anti-“FA” (I think that’s a brand of soap) and go nuts in hippie-dippie Oregon.

In today’s “cancel culture,” people get banned for saying something or doing something, but it’s quite selective. Another FUN thing, is to thumb through the history book, and get bonkers over what some person did 100 or 200 years ago, back when people still thought angels sat in the clouds and you’d go blind from masturbation. One of the ridiculous things about the various movements and slogans, is that they imply that the minority NEVER did anything bad, was ALWAYS the victim, and if in power, would NEVER abuse it.

Jesus Christ. Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. Do the “Black Lives Matter” folks ever point in the direction of Nigeria, where Boko Harum, or Procol Haram or whoever they are, rape and kidnap teenagers? Same color, folks. Anyone who sulks about the Civil War want to point out how often one African nation fought their neighbor and spilled blood for land and bullshit? Was Genghis Khan white? Sikhs? Didn’t anyone study history and realize that greed, war, bloodshed and power are obsessions of all races? No, today we hire “professors” who spread ethnic lies and retain their tenure. No “cancel culture” for THEM.

At one time, there were a lot of 78 rpm records that had some laughs over accents. Italian accents. Jewish accents. Dutch and German accents. Black dialect. Most of it was not hateful, just a comical tweak at odd new immigrants. The immigrants may have been a little pissed off at some of it, but they learned...to assimilate. They took the best of their culture, and added it to the melting pot. They kept their ethnic foods. Some kept their ethnic clothing. But they learned to speak in a non-stereotypical way, and were accepted. So was Chico Marx's idiotic Italian accent a bad thing? Or Fred Allen's alley, where you;d hear Southern, Jewish, New England and Irish dialect comedians get laughs?

Well, down below, just for the FUN of it, is a black guy laughing at the Chinese. Call it what it is. A novelty song. A bit of human nature. Cab didn’t mean much by it, he was just singing a song.

But...check out his mock-Chinese nonsense babbling at 2:23. Uh-oh. Will some radical Asian do-gooder declare him A RACIST?? Today, for antics like that, Cab's legacy of ALL his music could be banned from Spotify, and oh, my, that would mean his record label would have to do without his royalty check of $21.94. Oh, it’s all pretty complex and complicated. Some felt that Cab was “too ethnic” with his brand of hide-the-ho (or whatever that catch-phrase was). One generation spurns Fats Waller, and the next puts him on Broadway in “Ain’t Misbehavin’.” Moms Mabley and Mantan Moreland were cheered in the 60’s and scorned in the 70’s. Too often, the real problems in life as ignored because people go on about petty bullshit and scream about somebody who should not be on American currency, like Abraham Lincoln (?). Revisionist history, “fake news,” slanted reporting…”and so it goes.” PS, we’re NOT supposed to like Charlie Chan movies? They’re quite entertaining, and this thing from Cab ain’t so bad either.

Cab Calloway chuckles over CHOP CHOP CHARLIE CHAN FROM CHINA

And now a COKE commercial message...from MARY WILSON and the SUPREMES

OK, it wasn't Mary Wilson and the Supremes. After a few sound-alike hits, it became Diana Ross and the Supremes. And then Diana Ross went solo.

While The Supremes are way too famous for THIS blog, a mention should be made of Mary Wilson, who along with Flo Ballard, created a pleasing and strengthening background for Diana, much the same way three anonymous guys backed Levi Stubbs who sang lead for The Four Tops.

The Supremes, their follies and fortunes, are the stuff of legend, quite a few books, and even a fictionalized Broadway musical, Dreamgirls. How they bickered or harmonized is important to some people, but for others, a copy of "The Supremes Greatest Hits" is an essential part of their collection, and might even include several more albums, including that one where they take on Liverpool hits.

On Twitter, Diana Ross offered a brief, rather cool statement:

"I am reminded that each day is a gift. I have so many wonderful memories of our time together. 'The Supremes' will live on in our hearts."

It's possible, back in the day, that the girls and their manager made more money shilling for Coke in a radio ad than they did off one of their lesser Top 20 singles.

Just a reminder -- Coke (the drug) is not good for you, and Coke (the drink) isn't much better, with its incredibly high sugar ratio. Any attempt to substitute a chemical for sugar, to create a "diet" version, just might land you six feet under a lot sooner than it did Mary Wilson.

Sing it, girls...

THE SUPREMES sing for COCA-COLA