Showing posts with label music of 1931. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music of 1931. Show all posts
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Guy Lombardo, Kate Smith, "RIVER STAY 'WAY FROM MY DOOR" (1931)
Bandleader and musician, Guy Lombardo and singer, Kate Smith were very popular in the early 30s. The song, 'River Stay 'Way from Me' is timely.
At the dam site, radio broadcasts weren't heard much until the men moved into the dormitories in Boulder City in '32. However, this might have been just the tune to play at the first dance celebrating the start of the dam in July of 1931.
...What is music to a culture but an expression of its hope and an acceptance of what can change in the blink of an eye as well as over time...
Guy Lombardo, Kate Smith "TOO LATE" (1931)
Picture yourself, after months of mucking on the roadbed, the groundbreaking for the dam begins. For this honor you've been invited to the American Legion for a dance. Here, women and girls from Las Vegas and the soon to be built town of Boulder City arrive, as well as those from Ragtown that may have temporary residence but nonetheless share in the excitement.
Men smoke cigars outside the hall, women sip fruit punch, cool and delicious. It's late spring, 1931, and the music of Guy Lombardo, with the lilting voice of Kate Smith play on the gramophone, as if made for this night. Yes there are some things that are "Too Late" but there's an amazing amount of work ahead that nobody knows just how dramatic it will be. And above it all, regained hope fills the air.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Brother, can you spare a dime?
Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?", also sung as "Buddy, Can You Spare a Dime?", is an American songs of the Great Depression. It was written in 1931 by E. Y. "Yip" Harburg and composer Jay Gorney.
They used to tell me I was building a dream, and so I followed the mob,
When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always there right on the job.
They used to tell me I was building a dream, with peace and glory ahead,
Why should I be standing in line, just waiting for bread?
Once I built a railroad, I made it run, made it race against time.
Once I built a railroad; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
Once I built a tower, up to the sun, brick, and rivet, and lime;
Once I built a tower, now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!
Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Why don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?
Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!
Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Say, don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?
The song asks why the men who built the nation by working on railroads, in the cities building skyscrapers, who fought in the war, who worked so hard as farmers, all the work now supposedly done, what was being given to them, but bread lines.
It was a song that may have reminded the workers on the Hoover Dam that now the greatness of the country was being reformed upon resilience, the ability to bounce back, rather than through industry, the ability to build and grow, which sadly and shockingly had displaced so many.
It was songs like this that were etched in each man's mind, amid the noise of jackhammers, shovels, the jumbo's rolling in and out with men readying the way for dynamite. The music carrying feelings that these men might not otherwise have been able to understand, helping them to relate to eachother. Brother, can you spare a dime?
They used to tell me I was building a dream, and so I followed the mob,
When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always there right on the job.
They used to tell me I was building a dream, with peace and glory ahead,
Why should I be standing in line, just waiting for bread?
Once I built a railroad, I made it run, made it race against time.
Once I built a railroad; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
Once I built a tower, up to the sun, brick, and rivet, and lime;
Once I built a tower, now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!
Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Why don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?
Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,
Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,
Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,
And I was the kid with the drum!
Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.
Say, don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?
The song asks why the men who built the nation by working on railroads, in the cities building skyscrapers, who fought in the war, who worked so hard as farmers, all the work now supposedly done, what was being given to them, but bread lines.
It was a song that may have reminded the workers on the Hoover Dam that now the greatness of the country was being reformed upon resilience, the ability to bounce back, rather than through industry, the ability to build and grow, which sadly and shockingly had displaced so many.
It was songs like this that were etched in each man's mind, amid the noise of jackhammers, shovels, the jumbo's rolling in and out with men readying the way for dynamite. The music carrying feelings that these men might not otherwise have been able to understand, helping them to relate to eachother. Brother, can you spare a dime?
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