Cradle of Love
On January 24, 1929, in Chicago, IL, Ray Miller and his Orchestra recorded three sides. One of these was Cradle of Love.
Brad Kay, a musician from Los Angeles, Bixophile, and record collector, made a presentation about this recording on March 12, 1999, at the Tribute to Bix in Libertyville, IL.
Brad’s presentation, which was very instructive, highly technical, and, incidentally, quite entertaining, was based on a series of letters that he had written to the Editor of Joslin’s Jazz Journal. Brad’s lecture was a “musical detective story”.
It had suspense elements and lots of audio illustrations from the Cradle of Love recording, as well as from authentic recordings by Bix for comparison. Brad presented a well-woven analysis of the recordings and of Bix’s whereabouts on the date in question, and concluded that the solo following the vocal was indeed played by Bix.
A vote was taken after the presentation. Given a choice of “Yes, it’s Bix,” “Maybe” and “Definitely Not,” three-quarters of those present voted “Yes” and no one voted “Definitely Not”.
Brad is willing to provide a cassette with a copy of the recording of Cradle of Love and “an extensive and amusing audio analysis to anyone who sends a C-60 cassette, $5.00, and a SASE” to 732 Superba Avenue, Venice CA 90291.
The two Ray Miller’s takes of “Cradle of Love” are available as streaming audio.
Take #1
Take #2
The following are copies of the letters that Brad wrote to the Editor of Jazz Joslin’s Journal. I invite readers to give their opinions on this subject and will collect their letters below.
Guest Contribution by Brad Kay – December 22, 1997
Dear Gene,
Just as sightings of Elvis, Bigfoot, and UFOs are continuously reported, collectors of early jazz 78s are still keen on announcing new performances by Bix Beiderbecke on previously overlooked records.
The most recent such”discovery,” published in this space as an apparent fact, concerned an “unissued take” of the OKeh version of “Snake Rag” by King Oliver’s Jazz Band.
We were asked to believe that on this newly found item, Bix could be heard, many months before his first sides with the Wolverines, and that a cassette tape of it reposed with you, the editor. Never mind that a new take on “Snake Rag” would be sensational news all by itself, without any help from Bix! Never mind why King Oliver would want to add a third cornet (and a white guy, at that) to an already top-heavy ensemble! Never mind how the nimble-eared collector who submitted this gem could identify Bix, of all people, amidst this polyphonic forest of horns!
The point is, we were asked to believe this, and so far in JJJ, no one has even raised an eyebrow! What is going on here? Have we lost our collective musical minds?
I dredge up this sordid matter because, after thirty years of collecting and listening to Bix, I wonder why I should bother, amidst such tabloid goings-on, to single out a record that I feel can withstand the closest musical and historical scrutiny, and may fairly be put forward as a previously unidentified Bix performance. Oh, well…
The record is “Cradle of Love,” Brunswick 4233, by Ray Miller and his Orchestra (not to be confused with “Rainbow of Love,” by the Broadway Bellhops on Harmony). It was brought to my attention by Jim Lindsay of Indianapolis, who sent a cassette of it, and asked, “Do you think it might be Bix?”
Recorded in Chicago on January 24, 1929, along with “My Angeline” and“Mississippi, Here I Am,” “Cradle of Love” (mx. C-2857) is an unpretentious for trot performance of a Wayne and Gilbert potboiler tune that sounds like a cheap knockoff of “Makin’ Whoopee.”
There is an introduction and full chorus in B-flat by the band, then a sixteen-bar verse on open hot trumpet by the inimitable Muggsy Spanier.
Next is a vocal refrain by the regrettable Bob Nolan.
A four-bar trombone modulation leads to the key of A-flat and sixteen-bar hot cornet solo.
The trombone takes the bridge, then the full band comes in at the last eight to finish the chorus and the record.
It is that half-chorus of hot cornet that concerns us.Rather than Muggsy coming back for another solo, it is another player.
The sound is distinctly Bixian, with the correlated phrasing, careful choice of notes, sureness of pitch and loveliness of tone that we identify with him. There is also a tentative quality, a slight unsteadiness of beat, and seeming shortness of breath that could open the identity of the player to debate. Leaving musical analysis aside for a moment, the first logical question that arises is: knowing what we do about Bix’s activities at the time, can he be definitively ruled out as the performer?
Abstracting from Evans and Sudhalter’s Bix – Man and Legend, we learn that toward the middle of December 1928, Bix Beiderbecke’s health had deteriorated to the point where he came down with pneumonia. He spent about a week in a New York hospital, during which time he was forced to quit drinking – an abstinence he voluntarily continued after being discharged.
By New Year’s, 1929, though weakened and irritable, he was back on the job with Paul Whiteman. The band played in New York for a couple of weeks, jumped to Cincinnati for the week of January 13th to 19th, then arrived in Cleveland on January 20th. Bix didn’t make the concert that evening. His frail condition combined with abruptly being on the wagon resulted in a sudden violent fit of delirium tremens. He smashed up a hotel room full of furniture, and on January 21st, a very concerned Paul Whiteman put him in the care of a male nurse, with instructions to send Bix home to Davenport as soon as possible.
However, Bix did not go home.
According to S. & E., he “escaped” his nurse, and the next time anyone saw him was on February 3rd, in New York, when he was found in his hotel room, beaten up and bleeding.
This unhappy period in Bix’s life therefore includes a stretch of almost two weeks when his whereabouts are unaccounted for – two weeks that include January 24th, the date “Cradle of Love” was recorded. On the basis of hard biographical evidence, then, Bix cannot be ruled out as the cornetist on this record.
Returning to the music itself, the language used in the solo is consistent with Bix’s vocabulary and syntax. The thinking correlates with many of his known utterances. The accompanying transcription shows this pretty clearly. As for the sound of the horn, I have taken fragments of solos from known Bixrecordings such as “I’m Coming Virginia,” “Loved One,” “Lila” and others, and compared them to similar moments from the “Cradle of Love” solo, and they match uncannily in attack, tone and vibrato, though not in force orconfidence.
The slight shakiness and physical weakness evidenced in the solo isare completely in accord with Bix’s diminished condition at the time, and indeed, presage his unhealthy state during the rest of the year. Although by 1929 there were many Bix imitators, none of them came this close on record to his actual sound, his musical “fingerprints.” Maybe a voice print analysis would prove definitive.
Suppose it is Bix, then.
It is easy to imagine how it might have happened: following Paul Whiteman’s directions, the nurse put Bix on an Iowa-bound train as soon as it could be arranged.
Alone in the day coach heading west from Cleveland, the thought of returning to Davenport and his family in disgrace must have increasingly terrified him.ù
When the train stopped in Chicago, Bix got off.
Here, at least, he could temporarily forget his troubles and look up some of his old pals, like Muggsy Spanier.
Bix would have been pleased to learn that Muggsy had recently joined Ray Miller’s band.
After all, it was Ray Miller who introduced Bix to Frank Trumbauer, back in ’24.Perhaps Muggsy took Bix to the Brunswick studio, where Miller and his boys would have greeted him as a celebrity, and maybe persuaded the still-shaky cornetist to play on one of the tunes. Cutting a sixteen-bar slot for Bix in the stock arrangement of “Cradle of Love” would have been no problem, although it resulted in the extremely unusual presentation of two hot trumpet soloists on one side of an ordinary dance record.
Playing my own devil’s advocate, some of the Whiteman musicians recall years later that Bix stayed in his Cleveland hotel room the whole week they were in town – that is, until January 26th. However, I don’t think Bix would have languished there for seven days when Paul Whiteman wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.
On the off chance that the “Cradle of Love” cornetist might have been one of the regular players in the band, I closely checked several other Miller sides from this period, but there was no audible sign of him. If, in the end, this turns out to be some other musician, he is, to my ears, altogether the most convincing player from the period who “sounds like Bix.” Right now, though, I’m in love with this scenario, and I’ll stick to it.
The next recording session by Ray Miller and his Orchestra took place in the same studio four days later – January 28th, 1929 – still within this mysteryperiod of Bix’s life – and produced versions of “Some of These Days” and”Tiger Rag” (!) both supposedly released on “Brunswick Special.”
I’ve neverheard ’em. Has anybody? Catch my drift? Now get out your shovels and start digging!
Guest Contribution by Brad Kay – July 25, 1998
Dear Gene,Let us dispense with this “Snake Rag with Bix” item before it gets too ripe!
Thanks (again) to Jim Lindsay, I have a tape of this “discovery” and now pass it on to you.
It was first heard on the April Fools (4/1/84) edition of “TheJazz Band Ball” on WPFW-FM, Washington, D.C.
With tongue riveted to cheek, the show’s host, Dave Robinson, coolly announced this “find,” which turned out to be the usual (8391-A) take of the Oliver Okeh, with hot breaks cleverly spliced in from such Bix records as “Fidgety Feet,” “Sensation” and the Tram “Riverboat Shuffle”. As an April Fools gag, it was a total hoot. But for Dan Mahoney, whom I have credited as a serious researcher – i.e., his “Columbia 13 – 14000-D” book – to insist and then to re-insist that this thing is real, is at least annoying and at worst misleading and irresponsible.
Dan also misread my letter about “Cradle of Love,” so I have to clean up that mess, too.
My point in writing about “Cradle” was that it is still possible to hunt for signs of Bix on obscure records without having to resort to outright fiction.
“Cradle of Love” may be controversial, but at least it is real.
I have suggested that a weakened Bix may be the author of the half-chorus of cornet after the vocal. I can support this contention musically by comparing fragments of the solo to similar fragments from known Bix records that match uncannily in attack, sustain, vibrato, pitch and rhythm – subtleties no imitator could have matched.
I can also support the idea of Bix being in Chicago on the recording date by citing the known facts of his whereabouts, which do not preclude this place and time. I offered a hypothetical scenario that had Bix heading home to Davenport on a train from Cleveland (not from New York, Mr. Mahoney!).
Any train between those two cities would have to at least pass through, and most likely stop in, Chicago. The rest of the story – Bix getting off, looking up, Muggsy Spanier, ending up in the Brunswick studio, etc. – is not wildimagining, but a close-fetched extrapolation based on fact, deductive logicand the musically supportable notion that it is Bix on the record.
This is supposed to be a “Jazz Journal,” which I take to mean a forum for improvisatory discussions about our favorite music and musicians.
I would welcome any thoughtful remarks about “Cradle of Love.” Anyone who wants to hear “Cradle” and the musical analysis of the solo can do so if they send me a blank cassette and an S.A.S.E.
Guest Contribution by Brad Kay – August 15, 1998
Dear Gene:Phil Evans’ just-published massively revised Bix biography has new information that contradicts my theory of Bix being in Chicago to record with Ray Miller and his Orchestra. (*)
According to Phil, on January 24, 1929, the date the Ray Miller’s “Cradle of Love” was recorded, with its astoundingly Bix-like 16-bar solo, Bix himself was in a Cleveland hospital under strict supervision, recovering from his spell of delirium tremens. While this new fact dashes my pet scenario all to hell, it only enhances the mystery of the solo itself
[*- this information did not appear in the book. I got it from Phil himself over the phone and assumed it would appear in print. It did not.]
Occam’s Razor cuts to the next probability: that one of the two trumpet section men in Miller’s band – Max Connett or Lloyd Wallen – was able to do the most uncanny impression of Bix, right down to the terminal vibrato; that this record is the sole document of the man’s talent, and we never hear him improvise again. Didn’t Ray Miller know a good thing when he heard it? Why wouldn’t Ray make better use of such a valuable man? And why would his only feature spot come on a record where he had just been preceded by another hot trumpet soloist? To me, this all seems even less probable than Bix making a one-time guest appearance with the band.
Guest Contribution by Brad Kay – January 24, 1999
Dear Gene,The response to my letters about Bix Beiderbecke and Ray Miller’s “Cradle of Love” has been gratifying.
Several readers have weighed in with thoughtful, well-considered opinions on the topic, with the votes evenly divided on the question of whether or not it’s Bix who plays the 16-bar cornet chorus after the vocal.
I am still convinced it is he.
To me, both the musical and historical evidence point clearly to him – even more so since I received a crucial bit of new information. Of the countless dance records made in the late ‘20s that contain Bix-inspired solos, only a few are so persuasive that they raise the issue of Bix’s actual participation. Most can be dismissed on strictly musical grounds after repeated hearings.
The cornetist on the Pat Dollahan Gennett, mentioned here last issue, is a good example. His entrance on “My Suppressed Desire” is startling enough to cause one to ask, “Is it Bix?”
But his subsequent lead playing on this and the other side is wobbly enough in pitch to make the answer a firm “no.”
“Cradle of Love” leaves the opposite impression: the solo seems tentative at first hearing, but then it grows on you. Each subsequent play reveals more and further musical characteristics that were Bix’s sole property.
Bix’s life is no longer the dim legend it once was. Thanks to Phil Evans and the global army of researchers, we now can trace his mundane doings almost day to day.
There is no need to speculate about his presence on many a record imply because he is known to have been elsewhere at the time. The Dollahan Gennett can be dismissed by a quick look at Bix’s itinerary. That is not the case with “Cradle of Love”. The recording date (1-24-29) and the location (Chicago) actually fall directly in Bix’s path.
There is persuasive evidence that Bix was in Chicago on January 24, 1929. Certainly he was not recuperating from his D.T.’s in a Cleveland hospital, asthe new Evans book and I mistakenly reported. Correspondent Gil Erskine forwarded the text of a Cleveland Press interview with Paul Whiteman, published on January 25th, 1929. The interview was given a day or twoearlier.
The write-up contains this critical news:
Paul Whiteman, at the Palace this week, hopes to have Bix Beiderbecke, his star hot cornet player, back in time for opening of Old Gold broadcast series Feb 5. Beiderbecke is recovering from an illness at his home in Davenport, Ia. (My italics.)
This proves that as of January 23rd or 24th, Paul Whiteman believed (and stated for publication) that Bix had been sent home. The other band members believed this too, which is why they were all so surprised upon returning to New York on February 3rd, to find Bix in his hotel room – surprised he was simply there, let alone injured and worse off than ever. They thought he was still convalescing in Iowa.
Therefore Bix was neither in Cleveland nor in Davenport that week. Somebody must have put him aboard a westbound train in Cleveland around January 22nd or 23rd, but he never arrived in Davenport – his family didn’t see him until February 5th.
Where could he have disappeared to?
I believe that Bix, unable to work with Whiteman, and dreading to face his family in disgrace, having reached his limit of forbearance and sobriety, got off the train (and the wagon!) where else but in Chicago, his old stomping grounds. He was searching for escape, looking up old friends, and continuing a downward spiral that led him into even worse trouble. I believe this Ray Miller Brunswick, “Cradle of Love,” is a souvenir of that impromptu, unsanctioned visit.
What matters most about Bix Beiderbecke, of course, is his music. There is much more to Bix than simply a “style” of playing. All on his own, he developed a whole new musical language for jazz, famous for its cogency and beauty. It is consistent and identifiable at every level of construction -from a whole three-minute side (when they turned him loose), to a 32-bar chorus, to a phrase, to the placement and sound of individual notes. It is why we regard him as a composer. This language was so compelling that legions of cornetists dropped what they were doing and tried to “sound like Bix,” with varying degrees of success. But no one ever could get that exact sound, much less master the language, because it was all as uniquely personal to Bix as his own fingerprints.
What sets the 16-bar “Cradle of Love” solo apart from other contenders is that it does, in fact, use that language, and it indeed has those Bixian fingerprints – so many and so often that imitation may be fairly ruled out.
I will not try to prove this further with written words – the music must be heard first-hand. You can hunt for the record (Brunswick 4233) on these pages, but I will still provide an extensive and amusing audio analysis to anyone who sends a C-60 cassette, $5.00, and a SASE.
Brad Kay
732 Superba Ave.
Venice, CA 90291
Addendum on 4/5/99
I want to add that it seems strange to me that a person in poor physical and psychological health conditions can catch a train (or a car) from Cleveland to Chicago, record 16 bars, and then go back to Cleveland still in poor health conditions. Moreover, Bix was under contract with Paul Whiteman for Columbia Records and he was not supposed to cut records with other people. Finally, in order for a trumpet player to play his instrument, he must be in perfect shape, just as a trained athlete.
Richard M. Sudhalter writes on 4/6/99
I’ve now had a chance to listen to “Cradle of Love,” along with Brad Kay’s commentary.
I’ll readily vouchsafe that he makes a compelling argument.
There are indeed figure shapes and other technical mannerisms – articulation, vibrato, etc. – that are immediately reminiscent of Bix.
Further, the few days during which this record was made are among the least exactly documented in Beiderbecke’s later life.
Kay’s scenario is consonant with what we know of Bix’s personality, his sense of humiliation, and his chronic inability to confront and deal with conflict.
Kay has clearly thought his argument through, and makes good points – even down to the unlikely occurrence of two hot trumpet or cornet solos on the same commercial dance record. It’s happened here and there, of course: The Carolina Dandies’ “Come Easy, Go Easy, Love” and Goldkette’s “My Blackbirds Are Bluebirds Now” (though the solos on the
latter are admittedly by the same guy) come readily to mind. But it is unusual.There’s clearly more to ponder here than in such past false alarms as the McDonough “Broadway Rose” and the now infamous Marion McKay record. And, lest we forget, there’s the ever-present question: if not Bix, then who?
Still, some things bother me. First, the matter of Bix’s employment with Whiteman. We know the standard PW contract of the time stipulated that orchestra members could make freelance records only with other Whiteman sidemen, and – presumably – under conditions sanctioned by the Whiteman management. This is especially important in relation to the orchestra’s featured soloists, all distinctive stylists in their fields, and paid far above the music business average.
Bix may have been a drinker and a psychological mess, but he was a conscientious man and not fool enough to put all that at risk. The idea of casually making a record with another well-known band, for a competing label – indeed, taking a solo – taxes credibility.
The Armstrong “Drop That Sack” story comes immediately to mind: but the Louis of 1926 was still a country boy, unschooled in the ways of record companies and other big-city operations. I can hardly imagine the Bix Beiderbecke of 1929 being that naïve.
Also, I don’t know what instrument Brad Kay plays, but any familiarity with trumpet or cornet would have told him that several figures he identifies as characteristic Bix are note combinations that just lie easily and naturally on the horn, especially in A-flat concert. The sort of stuff any number of jazz horn players, myself included, have used countless times.
Also, there are places (bars 5-6, for example), when the soloist’s rendering of eighth notes is rather more stilted than anything I’ve known Bix to play. Even at his recorded worst – Louise, I’m In the Seventh Heaven, et.al. – he never lapses into anything like that.
Finally – and I have to heed this, too – it just doesn’t feel like Bix to me. I clearly remember the evening, many years ago, when I first heard Loved One at the home of the Ohio collector Bill Love. Two bars into it I knew beyond doubt that I was listening to a Bix solo, as sure as hearing a voice I recognized saying “hello” on the telephone. This regardless of how well or not well he was playing. I don’t get that sense of certainty here. But that hardly constitutes evidence in an “is it or isn’t it?” discussion, does it?
That Cleveland Press item Kay cites in his letter of January 24 is nothing new: I worked at the Press for awhile, found it in the files, and passed it on to Evans when we were preparing Bix: Man and Legend. It’s at the top of page 376. In all honesty, I’d have been surprised had Whiteman told them anything different for publication. What else is a top orchestra leader going to say when his star cornet soloist is under restraint in a hospital, suffering from DTs as a result ofexcessive drinking?
“Oh yes, Bix went berserk last week, and is being confined in a padded cell until they can control him; then they’ll think about sending him home to his family?”
Really, now. No, Whiteman was a humane man but a savvy one. I’d have expected him to tell the reporter just what he told him: that he had already implemented what he was planning to do with Bix in the boy’s best interests.
My, my – does anyone, in our times, still set such exact and utterly credulous stored by what he reads in a newspaper, even one of more than seventy years ago?
In the end, I have to say, simply, “I don’t know who plays the solo.”
It’s an interesting dispute, and an intriguing record withal. Beyond that – well, anybody’s guess.
Tom Pletcher writes on 4/15/99:
The mystery cornetist has a thin tone, no exceptional intonation, and only a passable emulation of Bix’s style.
Brad’s detailed oral and musical analysis is commendable, sincere, and interesting, but at least as good a “case” could be presented using Esten Spurrier’s unissued recordings, or Norman Payne, Andy Secrest, Sterling Bose, or even McPartland on a good day.
Then there was my father’s Yale roommate Bob Bruce who had many convinced they were hearing Bix on a Yale recording in 1930.
Or how about Bill Priestley on the Monday Knights sides such as “I Only Want A Buddy, Not a Sweetheart”?
ALL nice tries but not Bix! I would be very interested in an intrepid researcher like the late Warren Plath identifying the mystery player but alas .. it’s getting late in the game.
Frank Youngwerth writes on 5/4/99
Ray Miller and His Orchestra recorded “Harlem Madness” in December of 1929 featuring what sounds like the same guy who does the Bixian solo on Miller’s “Cradle of Love.”
On “Harlem Madness,” you’re not nearly so likely to believe it could be Bix, but there are enough similarities to convince me Ray Miller employed a trumpet player capable of emulating Bix, and that he solos on both sessions.
Harlem Madness
Hans Eekhoff writes on 7/23/99:
I’d like to point out that two takes of “Cradle Of Love” exist, both cornet solos are too similar for Bix in my opinion.
Guest Contribution by Brad Kay – Part 2
Brad sent me a copy of his letter to the editor of Joslin’s Jazz Journal. It follows here in its entirety, together with transcriptions of Muggsy Spanier’s solo and of the two takes by the “Mystery Cornetist” on Cradle of Love.
August 6, 1999
Dear Gene,
This “Cradle of Love” story refuses to die.
Instead, it gets better.
The big news this time is that improbably, beyond all hope or expectation, an alternate take of “Cradle” has turned up!
After I spoke on this topic at Phil Pospychala’s Bix Bash in Libertyville last March, John Wilby, of the Canadian dad & son collecting team of Ross and John Wilby, told me that while they were junk shopping in Illinois, his father turned up two clean copies of “Cradle,” and gave one to John.
Comparing these, they were surprised to find two different performances! I had seen four or five examples of this not-too-common record (Brunswick 4233), but they were always the same take. In due course, a tape of this new side arrived from Ross, and what a surprising thing it is.
This is unquestionably the same band (Ray Miller’s Orchestra) in the same studio (Brunswick, Chicago) on the same date (Jan. 24th, 1929) using the same arrangement, personnel, and order of solos. Taken at the same tempo, the playing is looser, and a little less buttoned down.
Bob Nolan, the singer, stumbles over a word or two. It has a preliminary feel, which leads me to think of this new side as “Take 1,” and the familiar side as “Take 2.” (No tell-tale numbers actually appear in the wax).
The two jazz soloists appear in the same slots: once again, Muggsy Spanier plays an un-muted 16-bar verse; the Mystery Cornetist takes the first half (16 bars) of the out-chorus following the vocal.
With two takes to compare, we now have the luxury of tracking the creative processes of these two players.
I have provided transcriptions of both takes of each solo, giving, I hope, a graphic illustration of those processes. The solos are written on parallel staves, so even if you don’t read music, you can still see the difference in the patterns from moment to moment (each bar is numbered). I suppose that each musician had the straight melody on a page in front of him – Muggsy, the verse; Mystery Cornetist, the chorus – from which they could extemporize. This was standard practice in the ‘20s. Bix’s solo part in the Whiteman arrangement of “’Tain’t So, Honey Tain’t So,” for instance, shows just the plain melody, and the instructions: “Solo – improvise”. Today’s arrangements usually show chord symbols and slash marks when jazzing is called for.
Muggsy’s new verse is largely identical to the other take:
- Right up through bar 9, he plays mostly the same notes in much the same way as before.
- Starting at bar 10, he loosens up a little, giving some nice variations.
- He finishes this new take with a ‘tip ‘o the hat’ flourish, (bars 15-16) characteristic of his best work.
The swaggering attitude of his open horn contributes greatly to the “jazz” feel.
At first, listen, Mystery Cornetist’s new half-chorus sounds, dismayingly, even less “like Bix” than on take “2.” His sound is more tentative and weak even compared to take “2,” let alone to the great Bix of 1927.
But as is the case with take “2,” repeated listening reveals more and more surprises, until, as the transcription makes clear, we realize we are in the presence of an exceptional musical imagination.
The differences are startling: only bars 2 and 16 contain the same exact notes as the corresponding spots intake “2.”A fresh idea in take “1” involves climbs to successively higher notes (G – Ab – C – Eb over bars 6 – 8), which later is correlated and expanded (C – Db – Eb – F over bars 10-15).
The running sawtooth idea we have heard intake “2” (bars 5-7) recurs twice intake “1,” but in a different harmonic location (bars 3-4 and 11-12).
Each is markedly different from the others in attack and rhythm.
Since in the original melody, bars 3-4 and 11-12 mirror each other, we actually have four different versions of the same little figure. As played by Mystery Cornetist, each repetition is quite distinctly different from the others and equally entertaining. There are even a couple of places where the two lines, when played together, actually blend in harmonious counterpoint (bars 7-8; 13-16). In short, the whole conception of this solo changes from take to take. The “feel” of take “1” is tentative and a little busy.
By taking “2,” the elements have been rearranged, recomposed, and edited, and new elements added, to make a much more coherent statement.
Assuming that all these changes took place extemporaneously over a matter of minutes between waxes, here, then, is evidence of a restless musical creativity of the highest order. Need I churlishly suggest whose
musical/creative process this all so strongly resembles? The new take fits perfectly into the scenario I’ve already built.I speculated that Bix was brought to the session by Muggsy, to the surprise and delight of all present. He was likely cajoled into playing – his unwillingness to disappoint anyone temporarily eclipsed the “moonlighting” clause of his Whiteman contract.
So he took a whack at a solo, despite his recent illness and not having practiced for at least a week, and maybe borrowing a horn.
This take “1” plainly shows his “green” embrochure and unsteadiness. The ideas come out in what would have been for him a disappointing jumble (but a masterpiece for anyone else!).
It sounds as if he decided this solo was a cropper, so he determined to do something different and better on the next take. Of course, every alternate take of Bix’s whole career shows that same restless, searching quality. Muggsy Spanier, by contrast, was content to follow the same pattern on each take.
I hope this discussion of “Cradle of Love” we’ve been having on these pages for over a year has done more than just drive up the price of the record. Whether or not you believe the Mystery Cornetist on “Cradle of Love” actually is Bix Beiderbecke is beside the point. For me, the chief joy of collecting 78s is the continual unveiling of new and unexpected facets of the music I love. In this case, I’ve been privileged to tell a fascinating story, share a batch of wonderful music, and take a rare glimpse into the very heart of the creative process, as expressed by two of my all-time favorite musicians.
Being a dedicated musician myself (*), I cannot fail to learn from this. I hope that’s also true for you.
Brad Kay
732 Superba Ave.
Venice, CA 90291(*) Piano and cornet, Mr. Sudhalter.
Discussion of Cradle of Love in the Bixography Forum
On August 8, 1999, I posted Brad Kay’s analysis of an alternate take of “Cradle of Love”. This essay and his previous one (March 27, 1999) pose an extremely important question: is Bix Beiderbecke the mystery cornetist in Ray Miller’s recordings of Cradle?
Several readers provided important critiques of Brad’s first analysis. Unfortunately, except for a general comment by Trevor Rippindale of The New Wolverine Orchestra, I have not heard a bip from readers in response to Brad’s second installment. Are we so blase that a possible new recording by Bix leaves us unfazed?
I have not yet heard the second take of Cradle.
However, after repeated listening to the first, I am convinced that the mystery cornetist is indeed Bix. At this point, I will simply say that the level of creativity and inventiveness in the solo is very high, as we expect from Bix. In the August 1999 issue of Joslin’s Jazz Journal, Phil (Tribute to Bix) Pospychala writes:
Who around the world, doesn’t think it’s Bix? The clincher, other than musically, for me, was in the USA rail system, then and now.
Sudhalter on Cradle of Love – by Albert Haim – Posted on Sep 16, 1999, 03:21 AM
I mailed Richard Sudhalter a copy of Brad Kay’s second article about Ray Miler’s recording of Cradle of Love. Dick’s answer was:
I don’t think the Brad Kay business deserves more scrutiny. The second take only reinforces my conviction that he’s chasing a will-o’-the-wisp.
Cradle of Love – by Michael May – Posted on Sep 16, 1999, 05:41 AM
I have heard the “Cradle of Love” track, and I think that Bix was a big influence on other cornetists/trumpeters of the time: to my ears, the cornetist on “Cradle of Love” was an avid Bix fan.
The exclusive contract Bix had with Paul Whiteman is the item that solves the mystery for me.
Some sides by Oreste’s Queensland Dance Orchestra, Edison recordings from the late ’20s, feature a cornetist/trumpeter who sounds uncannily like Bix, but the recording dates place him at other locations.
Cornetist Fred Rollison, on “Cataract Rag Blues” as performed by Hitch’s Happy Harmonists, sounds a lot like Bix. I think Bix’s influence amongst fellow musicians was more pervasive then, than we now realize.
Bix Emulators and “Wild Cat” Recordings – by Albert Haim – Posted on Sep 1,7 1999, 03:56 AM
I agree that many (if not most) cornetists contemporaries to Bix attempted to emulate him, witness the album “It Sounds Like Bix’ and countless other recordings. Several of the cornetists succeeded in reproducing some of the more superficial aspects of what we think is Bix’s cornet work, but not the essence. The mystery cornetist in “Cradle of Love” has a complex and sophisticated compositional style not found in the work of most emulators.
I am not persuaded by the argument that Bix, being under an exclusive contract with Paul Whiteman, would comply with the requirement that he could only record with Whiteman’s musicians. Read what Irvin “Izzy” Friedman had to say about this:
Regarding “wildcat recordings”, yes, on many occasions while I was with the band, Bix, Tram, Venuti, Lang, and myself would do recordings with different groups. We would not let them use our names for the “Old Man” would really raise hell.
(Evans and Evans, Bix, The Leon Bix Beiderbecke Story”. p. 426)
Additional information – by Michael May – Posted on Oct 07, 1999, 07:15 AM
I think I need to hear the second take! I’ll contact either John Wilby or Brad Kay for a copy.
I listened to the first take again, through headphones during the weekend, and to be honest, it sure does sound like Bix.
Also, the “Biltmore Hotel Orchestra” track on the “It Sounds Like Bix” album is “Cataract Rag Blues” by Hitch’s Happy Harmonists.
When I first heard this, on the “It Sounds..” album, it sure was a chilling experience! I really thought it was an outtake from the Wolverines!!!
Cradle of Love: Not Bix to my ears! – by Chris Tyle – Posted on Jan 22, 2000, 01:48 PM
After giving a listen to these takes, I felt compelled to give a few comments.
Firstly, I really doubt that this is Bix: this player shows none of the rhythmic assurance that Bix had. Even when Bix was having an “off” day in the studio, his rhythm was always strong.
There is also the slur to that high note on take one. My belief is Bix would’ve popped that out rather than a slur.
Also, Bix tended to strongly tongue his notes rather than the soft tonguing done here.
To me, this is someone trying to sound like a combination of Bix and Red Nichols.Secondly, I don’t believe there’s any strong evidence that Bix and Muggsy were buddies.From all accounts, Muggsy was a jealous kind of guy, and as I recall at some point made some rather disparaging remarks about Bix. Lastly, I think a lot of people romanticize the event of a recording session. Most musicians avoid the recording studio like the plague unless they’re hired to be there. I have a hard time believing a not-too-well Bix would go into the studio for fun.
Muggsy and Bix – by Brad Kay – Posted on Jan 30, 2000, 01:49 AM
Part of my “Cradle of Love” scenario has Bix running into Muggsy Spanier, and Muggsy inviting him to come to the Brunswick studio to at least greet the boys in the Ray Miller Band.
First Phil Evans, and now Chris Tyle have called that into question. Phil once told me flat out that such a friendly meeting was impossible because Muggsy actively disliked Bix, and was jealous of him.
Chris essays the same opinion. I would almost be willing to accept that, based on some of the general scuttlebutt about Muggsy, if it weren’t for the testimony of Muggsy Spanier himself!
In April 1939, Muggsy was interviewed in Chicago by a W.P.A Federal Writer’s Project worker named Sam Ross. In reminiscing about his career, Muggsy had this to say about Bix:
I met Bix at the Friar’s Inn where the New Orleans Rhythm Kings were and we both came down to listen to them. We met in a funny way, sort of unconscious. We’d sit around and listen to the boys and then one day Bix said, ‘I’m a cornet player.’ And I said, ‘I’m one, too.’ After that, we went out to the south side together and there was one place we dropped in at where there was a piano and a drum and we sat in with our two horns and we played together so well we decided we’d be a cornet team. Always we met at Friar’s Inn and then we’d knock around together.
Sounds to me like they got along quite amicably! Maybe later in life, Muggsy had some bitter words about Bix, but at least as late as 1939, he was still waxing warm and fuzzy about his late pal.
The complete interview can be found online at http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/amhome.html – which is the “American Memory” site for the Library of Congress –> NOT WORKING.
Click on the search engine and type “bix”. There are two other interviews that mention him. I don’t think any of these have been noticed by jazz researchers.
Did it for the $ – by Frank Youngwerth – Posted on Mar 19, 2000, 10:37 PM
At the 2000 Tribute, Brad suggested Bix would have headed straight for the Three Deuces had he stopped in Chicago in time to cut “Cradle” with Ray Miller.
Has anybody wondered like me what Bix’s immediate financial situation could have been at the time? Might that nurse in Cleveland have skipped off with the money Whiteman left with an out-of-it Bix? Did Bix have only enough to go to Chicago, then hit up Spanier for a loan at the Deuces? And might Spanier have suggested Bix instead come with him down to Brunswick and maybe work out a deal to do a solo for cash on the spot from Miller?
Bix may well have broken his agreement with Whiteman not to make outside recordings this time because he needed money there and then. And he might have sworn all participants to secrecy so that it wouldn’t get back to Whiteman.
All of this is speculation of course, but it might knock down a few objections forum participants and experts like Sudhalter have raised against Brad’s scenario.
More Ray Miller’s Recordings – by Albert Haim – Posted on Feb 15, 2000, 05:18 PM
On 5/4/99 Frank Youngwerth raised the possibility that the mystery cornetist in “Cradle of Love” is the same musician as the one featured in Ray Miller’s “Harlem Madness”, recorded in December of 1929. Frank said:
On “Harlem Madness,” you’re not nearly so likely to believe it could be Bix, but there are enough similarities to convince me Ray Miller employed a trumpet player capable of emulating Bix, and that he solos on both sessions.
On 2/8/00, Hans Eekhoff revived this question by writing:
If you play “Harlem Madness”, from roughly the same period, there IS a trumpet player not unlike the one on “Cradle” and definitely NOT Muggsy.
At the time Frank had written, I had no space for audio files in the original Bixography site. Since then, I have secured web space for audio files in a couple of auxiliary Bixography sites. With Hans’s reminder, I decided to make available to Bixophiles the “Harlem Madness” recording by Ray Miller and his orchestra. This posting may catalyze some additional discussion of Brad Kay’s important analysis of “Cradle of Love”. Since uploading two files does not take that much more time than one, I also uploaded “Angry”, another Ray Miller recording from January 3, 1929. There is a trumpet or cornet solo that is highly experimental in its musical construction and I thought it would be worth listening to. Hans tells me “Forget about “Angry” that is Muggsy and no one else.” Please go to http://www.fortunecity.com/tinpan/rage/721/index.html and then post your views and opinions about this issue in the Bixography Forum at http://network54.com/Hide/Forum/2714
Thank you.
Albert Haim
Ray Miller tracks – by Malcolm Walton – Posted on Feb 18, 2000, 01:17 AM
“The Cradle of Love” soloist is certainly tantalizing.
After repeated listening, I am reluctantly forced to the conclusion that it isn’t Bix, although I am not 100% certain. If he had not been laying for a bit and if he had to borrow an instrument and maybe even a mouthpiece, that might explain the tonal differences.
However, it is the odd phrase that disturbs me more. In both takes there is at least one instance of an un-Bix-like phrase. One of the phrases put me in mind of one of the Lou Raderman sides, which seems to be now acknowledged to be Mannie Klein.
I consulted Rust’s American Dance Band Discography and found that three titles were recorded at the Ray Miller 24/1/29 session. They are
Matrix C-2856 My Angeline Brunswick BR 4233
2857 Cradle of Love 4233
2858 Mississippi here I am 4194Presumably, the first track has been listened to as it is on the same disc as “Cradle of Love”. Has anyone a copy of the third track and is the mystery soloist in evidence?
Ray Miller/Bix – by Hans Eeklhoff – Posted on Feb 18, 2000, 05:00 AM
Hello Malcolm,
I have Mississippi Here I Am, but our mystery man cannot be heard.
However, I believe the same man can be heard on Harlem Madness (December 21, 1929). A fine trumpeter but not Bix.
Rust mentions two more trumpet players: Max Connett and Lloyd Wallen probably it’s one of these guys. It would be worth listening to other Ray Miller records of that period.
I don’t hear Bix on Cradle but the second take is more convincing.
Hans Eekhoff
“Harlem Madness” vs. “Cradle of Love” – by Brad KayPosted on Mar 23, 2000, 03:07 AM
Several Forum contributors have mentioned Ray Miller’s “Harlem Madness,” recorded in December of 1929, as containing solo work by the same “mystery cornetist” who plays on “Cradle of Love”.
I listened to this record and played it on different occasions for a half-dozen discerning listeners here in Los Angeles. This is what we heard:
The “Harlem Madness” soloist is also the first chair trumpet and leads the brass section throughout the record, as well as doing his solo bits. He is a strong, punchy player with an intense vibrato, coming off a lot like Jimmy McPartland. He trades fours with other orchestra members, so his solo space is broken up. He gets off three four-bar slices which show no compositional connectedness either to each other or to what the other soloists are doing. He sounds brash, harsh, and rather haphazard. He seems to be a crackerjack lead player, but only a journeyman soloist.
The “Cradle of Love” mystery cornetist, on the other hand, appears ONLY during his 16-bar half-chorus, taking no part in the overall brass section work. He sounds rather weak and tentative, with occasional vibrato. However, he plays with nuance, inventiveness, and compositional coherence.
The quite different solos on each take betray a restless spontaneity.
The half-dozen listeners and I all instantly concluded that these are two different players.
H.M. – by Frank Youngwerth – Posted on Mar 25 2000, 05:14 PM
Oddly enough, at Brad’s presentation in Kenosha, the soloist on “Harlem Madness” sounded closer to Bix to me than the one on “Cradle” — I didn’t think about what was being played, just how it sounded.
We’re probably talking about two different players.
Bix sound-alike contest – by Hans Eekhoff – Posted on Apr 01, 2000, 10:58 PM
I hear the same trumpeter on “Cradle” and “Harlem” but I agree that the latter side sounds more like Bix.
Many Ray Miller Recordings – by Albert Haim – Posted on Feb 18, 2000, 08:48 AM
The Red Hot Jazz website, run by Scott Alexander, is a fantastic resource to listen to recordings from the 1920’s on demand. He has collected about 3000 (yes, no error in the zeros, three thousand!) recordings and, as long as you have Real Audio Player, you have the three thousand records at the tip of your mouse
You will find a good collection of Ray Miller’s recordings. Here are the ones from 28 and 29:
- Is She My Girl Friend?
- I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate;
- My Honey’s Lovin’ Arms;
- Sorry;
- Ain’t you baby;
- Angry;
- Harlem Madness;
- Mississippi here I am;
- No one in the world but you;
- That’s a plenty;
- Who wouldn’t be jealous of you?
Unfortunately, except for Harlem Madness, the others do not help much with the Cradle of Love problem.
Ray Miller recordings – by Hans Eekhoff – Posted on Feb 18, 2000, 03:22 PM
The first four titles from the list are actually by the Andy Mansfield Orchestra that Ray Miller led for a brief period.
They made a few Gennett recordings earlier; great jazz (as are these four “Ray Miller” Brunswick records) but don’t look for our mystery cornetist on these sides!
Hans Eekhoff
Yves Francois writes on 03/28/00
I was not present on 3/11/00 for Brad Kay’s lecture on the alternate take of Cradle Of Love.
Brad did give me and two other members of my band a detailed presentation of all the points about Cradle Of Love and the stereo mixes.
After transcribing the solo last fall, I strongly suspect the solo to be Bix – there may not be the tone we associate with Bix (the question I would ask other fellow trumpet players is how well would you play after not playing for the better part of a week, with what may be a borrowed horn and after suffering from a relapse of dt’s?) but the notes are.
Ok if it isn’t Bix, who?
Fred Ferguson (Lyman’s trumpeter of the late 20s could do a fair Bix-Harold Gast played us a good test pressing of Mississippi Mud that’s Bixian from 1928-but the vibrato doesn’t quite match), certainly not any of the other usual cornetists kicking around Chicago in 1929 that I can think of, and besides, the transcription of both takes works like many another Bix alternate. As I voted in both 1999 and this year’s presentation, I believe the soloist is Bix (and besides it’s a fun solo to boot).
I am also involved in figuring out other horn player mysteries (my favorite is Frankie Newton on a blues date in 1938 that he is not listed on, also like general 1920s-1930s blues, jazz dance, and territory bands).
PS agree with Brad on Baby…the mute is Bix, open is Andy (maybe we should take another peek at Raderman’s Old Man River?)