The First Jazz Gramophone Record: The Music of the Moment That Became Timeless

Rykunin Vladislav Vyacheslavovich Postgraduate at the Department of Theory and History of Music of Moscow State Institute of Culture 141406, Russia, Moskovskaya oblast', g. Khimki, ul. Bibliotechnaya, 7 rkn.vlad@yandex.ru Other publications by this author

In early 1917, the quintet Original Dixieland Jass Band (ODJB), performing at Reisenweber's Restaurant in New York, attracted the attention of two leading recording companies of that time. The Columbia Gramophone Company was the first to invite this quintet from New Orleans to listen but did not immediately conclude a contract. Subsequently, her competitor, the Victor Talking Machine Company, which signed a contract with this ensemble at the end of February, recorded two numbers: "Livery Stable Blues" and "Dixie Jass Band One-Step." The quintet consisted of cornetist Nick LaRocca, clarinetist Larry Shields, trombonist Edwin Edwards, pianist Henry Ragas, and drummer Tony Sbarbaro. In a short time, more than a million copies of this double-sided gramophone record with the first jazz recording were sold in stores ^{[4, p. XV]}.

Until that moment, jazz was performed mainly in nightclubs and dance halls. It was an art form known for its freedom and spontaneity. In the recording, this music left its traditional place and became "fixed," able to be played not only by performers but also by listeners. It changed jazz forever.

The reproducibility of sound recording has many different consequences for jazz. One of them is the possibility of a thorough study of the repertoire. Jed Rasula notes: "It is interesting that historians are not really able to understand the developing history of jazz without using recordings to reflect the progression. For the sake of convenience, some historians praise 1917 as the initial stage since it was then that the Original Dixieland Jass Band created its first recording. Recordings are a methodological convenience for determining the origin of music" ^{[13, p. 136]}.

The recordings of the ODJB ensemble have received a cult, albeit problematic, status in the history of jazz. They were viewed with skepticism by the authors who performed a retrospective analysis based on sound recordings as these recordings seem to contradict the fundamental criteria of the value and authenticity of jazz, which are considered under broad headings such as race, motivation, performance practice, and influence.

In retrospect, the fact that the musicians of the ODJB ensemble were white and are believed to have recorded the traditional New Orleans music of black musicians for commercial purposes creates an unpleasant racial subtext for these first recordings. Gunter Schuller noted that "the ODJB ensemble took advantage of a new idea, an innovation, and reduced it to such a compressed, rigid format that could be attractive to mass listeners... with a complete lack of flexibility and skill inherent in the best African-American groups of that time" ^{[15, p. 180]}.

This sense of exploitation was reinforced by Nick LaRocca's statements, the band leader, who in the Metronome Magazine in 1936 denied the African-American origin of jazz and insisted that the ODJB ensemble was the "creator of jazz" ^{[10, p. 141]}. In addition, the members of this ensemble were criticized not only for recording but also for copyrighting and publishing numbers from the repertoires of Black instrumental ensembles in the 1920s that played them on the streets of New Orleans as their compositions.

The ODJB ensemble was aware of its commercial potential, and its recording activities were based on financial incentives and the possibility of moving to Europe ^{[11, p. 124]}. LaRocca was clearly disposed to artistic compromise to achieve commercial success. From January 1920, his recorded repertoire included more popular songs and even waltzes in response to demand from their British listeners. Schuller is critical of these recordings, which, in his opinion, are "hardly more than a commercial performance of a foxtrot" ^{[15, p. 182]}.

LaRocca, who considered it important that his orchestra's performances should be perceived as spontaneous and improvisational, especially emphasized the musical illiteracy of its participants, stating: "None of us could read sheet music, and we had no intention of learning" ^{[6, p. 21]}. However, according to Schuller, the analysis of the recordings and, in particular, the comparison of different recordings of the same composition say something else: "Such absurd statements were typical for that time, as LaRocca's statement that both he and other ODJB members could not read the notes and, therefore, their performance, by virtue of the very fact, was improvisational, and inspiration came to them every time they played. However, their records show the exact repetition of choruses and good memory... This is not an improvisation; these choruses were staged and rehearsed, they remained unchanged for many years... so, in fact, ODJB did not improvize"^{[15, p. 180]}.

Schuller suggests that the lack of spontaneity in this ensemble's performances is due to insufficient performing technique: "LaRocca's range was within only one octave, and his rhythmic fantasies were also limited" [Ibid.]. Referring to the composition "Livery Stable Blues," he argues that the instrumentalists' performance technique was limited to developing two or three effects [the sound of a barnyard], which they were ready to repeat exactly during the performance or even from performance to performance" [Ibid., p. 182].

The concept of impact is a key element of jazz history, providing a basis for assessing the significance of a particular artist or ensemble, which can later be elevated to the jazz canon. Schuller argues that since the jazz performances by the ODJB ensemble were nothing more than a rough reproduction of the existing New Orleans style, its potential for making an impact was limited: "ODJB developed quickly and almost as quickly disintegrated; by 1924, it had already entered history" [Ibid.]. In his opinion, the ODJB was adversely affected by the proliferation of numerous imitators who are unable to do anything more than a "fetish" of these template effects, and thereby brand the new 'jazz' in a very unfavorable way" [Ibid.]. "They are responsible for the seduction of all such groups that have abandoned jazz for commercial dance or vulgar music" [Ibid., p. 185]. Schuller believes that, at best, the ODJB has created little more than a basis for subsequent groups, such as the New Orleans Rhythm Kings, to improve rather than imitate [Ibid., p.186].

These critical retrospective studies certainly demonstrate the danger of relying only on audio recordings since they are used to subjectively assess jazz history based on applying more modern criteria of authenticity and value. Alternative approaches to evaluating historical audio recordings more reliably include them in the appropriate context, limiting the need for subjective judgments and contributing to more balanced assessments of value and influence. Such records can be effectively investigated, firstly, in the context in which they were created and, secondly, concerning how they "function" in different periods of history.

As we have already seen, the racial aspect serves as the basis for a retrospective assessment of these audio recordings. Still, the contextual analysis of the musicians' origins and the repertoire creates great difficulties and necessitates a more realistic approach. The director of the Jazz Archive, Bruce Boyd Raeburn, explained that in New Orleans, "the demographic models that created the 'mixed neighborhood hodgepodge' also formed an extremely eclectic musical mix" ^{[12, p. 3]}. In fact, New Orleans jazz was clearly influenced by both white marching music and black blues. The white musicians of the ODJB quintet were brought up on the same musical traditions as the black musicians of New Orleans, who gave them the main repertoire and performing style that can be heard in their recordings. Although it is obvious that the ensemble took advantage of the spread of this music at the expense of other musicians of all races in society, even Schuller was forced to admit that "racial lines were still undoubtedly so clearly manifested that it was impossible for comparable Black groups to achieve such success" ^{[15, p. 186]}. Recently, black musicians have received more recognition, including those poorly represented in early recordings, that is, musicians who created the basis for the predominantly Black jazz canon. This leads to the denial of the contribution of "not only a small number of white musicians, but also much of what now seems to have played a decisive role in the formation of jazz" ^{[14, p. XVI]}.

In a retrospective approach based on the analysis of sound recordings, Schuller concludes that ODJB did not improvise without considering the specific circumstances in which the recording process was taking place at that time.

The ODJB recording session was carried out in a mechano-acoustic way. The balance of sound on the record was achieved by searching for the optimal position of the musicians near the horn of the recording device. According to sound engineer Ronald Streicher, "If you tried to record, say, a large orchestra, you could only capture a few instruments, you could not record the full sound of the orchestra" ^{[2, p. 163]}. LaRocca noted the professionalism of Victor sound engineer Charles Souey, who managed to create a certain acoustic atmosphere in the studio in which the reflected signals from the walls and ceiling of the room did not disrupt the recording session, and by numerous takes and the selected arrangement of musicians, to ensure that the recording "sounded as it should" ^{[4, p. 67]}.

Another disadvantage of the recording technology of that time was the temporary limitations of the record. Before the advent of long-playing records in 1948, sound recording was carried out mainly on plates with a diameter of ten inches, with the possibility of approximately three minutes of playback on each side. The performers had to adapt to the limited time. The simplest solution was to reduce the number of group improvisations. But the soloists also had to restrain themselves since, in the recording studio, the musicians often had only eight (and usually no more than thirty-two) bars in which they could make an impression. According to Ralph Berton, cornetist Bix Beiderbecke was forced to shorten his performance in the recording studio: "It's not surprising that Bix did not like recording days just because a ten-inch record with a speed of 78 revolutions per minute made it possible to record no more than three and a quarter minutes of performance on it; for a musician, this is equivalent to presenting Dostoevsky's novel 'The Brothers Karamazov' as a short story. Bix on the stage, if things were going well, played much longer – ten squares, no less" ^{[3, p. 162]}.

The limited time on the record and the inability to correct mistakes suggest that the ODJB musicians' approach to "stage and rehearse" was correct. In addition, from sources other than audio recordings, it can be concluded that improvisation was part of the ODJB's rehearsal process, where arrangements and contrapuntal techniques were developed during frequent performances ^{[4, p. 31]}. This should be borne in mind when evaluating the performance practice of the ODJB based on its sound recordings.

The mechanical limitations of young recording technology forced the musicians to move away from the usual jazz performance atmosphere. As a result, the first jazz musicians did not improvise in the recording studio as was customary at performances and also followed written sources to a greater extent than before.

In later years, the release of previously unpublished jazz recordings made it possible to compare many variants (either in consecutive takes or in separate recordings) of compositions performed by one group of musicians. It turned out that in the 1920s, many groups followed the published arrangements in their recordings and allowed only minor embellishments or deviations from one sound recording to another. Gunther Schuller gave an example with Duke Ellington: three recordings of the composition "Black and Tan Fantasy," made over seven months in 1927, contain almost no changes in the trumpet solo, even when Jabbo Smith replaced Babber Miley on Okeh records ^{[15, p. 300]}.

Sometimes the compositions were enlarged to fit one side of the record. For example, the composition "Animal Crackers" recorded by Ellington in 1926 was performed longer than the provided printed score. Mark Tucker noticed that "the insertion of two bright solo improvisations before the introduction of the entire ensemble brought the arrangement to the required length of the recording" ^{[17, p. 161]}.

David Chivan established that in 1924, Louis Armstrong sent the manuscript of his famous composition "Cornet Chop Suey" to the Copyright Agency at the Library of Congress "two years before the recording of this work. The recording, which has long been recognized as a masterpiece of improvisation, was actually something similar to a deposit with copyright protection. For the most part, only the final phrase was different; almost everything else was as stated on paper. A number of other Armstrong recordings reveal similar parallels with their originals deposited with copyright protection" ^{[5, p. 299–300]}.

The instrumentation that can be heard on the first jazz record was also due to the mechanical limitations of the recording technology.

Trombonist Edwin Edwards from the Original Dixieland Jass Band said that in the studio, "you can't use either a big drum that vibrates too much or a snare drum that sounds blurry." He recalled that ODJB drummer Tony Sbarbaro "had to use only cowbells, wooden boxes and the sides of the drum. As a result, this influenced many drummers who listened only to recordings and did not understand that the big and small drums were an integral part of the drum part performed by Dixieland." ^{[9, p. 94]}.

With few exceptions, the duration of recordings and the short duration of solo parts remained unchanged for thirty-one years in the period between the first jazz recording and 1948, when the first long-playing record was made. This situation influenced the performance of jazz and the creation of its compositions. Brevity had become a virtue, if not a defining feature of the music. Thus, the way early jazz is perceived is often the result of its phonographic preservation, which, in turn, has been subjected to severe temporary and technological restrictions for more than three decades.

If the limited performance time was a disadvantage, then "reproducibility" can be called an advantage that makes the record an important means for spreading jazz culture.

British listeners had never heard anything like the ODJB orchestra before and could not understand the broader context used in the retrospective analysis. Do not underestimate ODJB records' influence on the public's perception of jazz, especially when they began to be labeled as such ^{[11, p. 160–162]}.

The records were able to bring jazz to a much larger number of listeners and listeners who were geographically and culturally far from the urban centers where this music flourished. According to the jazz critic Dan Morgenstern, "without sound recording, jazz could have remained a temporary regional phenomenon" ^{[8, p. 766]}. The spread of jazz in sound recordings made it accessible to listeners and inspired jazz musicians and composers.

Cornetist Bix Beiderbeck's career is almost impossible to imagine without a gramophone. Growing up in Davenport, Iowa, Beiderbeck had a small chance of hearing live jazz. His first acquaintance with this music was actually due to a gramophone purchased by his family. At the end of 1918, a teenaged Beiderbeck heard ODJB on records bought by his brother. Inspired by this music, he first tried to imitate it on the piano. Soon he acquired a cornet and, largely for the sake of his family's peace of mind, a surdina ^{[16, p. 35–36]}.

According to cornetist Jimmy McPartland, he and his friends studied with the New Orleans Rhythm Kings, repeating and imitating their recordings: "We put on a record, listened to a few bars, and then played all our parts. We tuned our instruments on the gramophone to achieve accuracy and then played a few notes. Then they stopped again! We listened to a few more bars of the recording; each of us caught his own notes, and go ahead! […] after three or four weeks, we could finally play one melody in full " ^{[7, p. 92]}.

Jazz records influenced musicians all over the world, including in the USSR. Here is what Alexander Naumovich Tsfasman recalled: "When jazz was born in our country, nothing was surprising in the fact that we, musicians, to one extent or another, borrowed foreign experience, learned from records. I remember a review about our jazz in the American magazine Variety somewhere in the early 30s: 'If we consider that Russians learn only from gramophone records, then we must admit that they do wonders'" ^{[1, p. 53]}.

It is worth noting that "reproducibility" has influenced not only the spread and teaching of jazz but also the very nature of jazz improvisation. Although improvisation is largely independent of models or rules, improvised music assumes an exact form and sound only when performed. Improvised works or solo parts are by definition unique; they belong to a specific time and a specific place. Therefore, the recorded improvisation is a paradox: the music of the moment, which has become timeless. Being one of a kind, it has become reproducible; being spontaneous, it has become permanent.

The repertoire of the first recordings of the ODJB ensemble was actively used decades after their release and continues to be performed by traditional jazz groups. The reissues of the first ODJB sound recording are mainly addressed to enthusiasts who enjoy a performance that represents the sound of a bygone era, the character of which was largely projected by the recording technology.