Music Training Necessary .
It may come as a shock to some of my readers to learn that I consider careful and painstaking study and practice the only w ay ever to become a successful dance-style singer. Even if the beginner is gifted with a” natural” voice, and can speak clearly and distinctly, he is a very long way from being able to join a dance band as a singer.
Out of all the hundreds of aspirants I have seen or who have written to me, not one per cent knew the first thing about music. Even less had the ability to sing ,at sight, a number which they had never previously seen. Sight-reading is absolutely essential for the ambitious singer, as is an all-round knowledge of the elements of music.
Without it, no singer will ever get beyond the drawing-room stage. Certainly they will stand no chance amid the fierce competition of professionalism. This may be disquieting news to many who had hoped that this book would contain a few hints which, having been hastily read, would assure success as a singer.
But I’m afraid it has got to be faced that without a practical knowledge of music, and in particular the ability to sight-read, the would-be crooner is so heavily handicapped as to be a non-starter. But do not let this be too discouraging. All the musical knowledge you will need will be given to you within these pages and in a form, I hope, which will make it easy and pleasant to assimilate.
But there is no use skipping or skimping it. If your ambition goes no further than to sing at occasional concerts, or to amuse yourself and a small circle of friends, then perhaps you need not practice quite so hard. But even in these circumstances the knowledge will be an enormous help. I have no doubt that there are many instrumentalists who will read this book, both professional and semi-pro. These, no doubt, are congratulating themselves on already having a knowledge of the rudiments of music, which they may well do. But do not let them think, however, that there is no necessity for them to learn further. Many musicians can read at sight almost any instrumental music that is put before them, are quite at sea when it comes to vocal reading.
The first subject to be dealt with, then, is music. If I were teaching in person instead of through the medium of the printed word, I would regard voice culture as being the first consideration. But this latter calls for examples in written music, and without a knowledge of at least the rudiments of notation how is the student to be able to understand them ?
Why Sing At All ?
It is platitudinous to say that singing is the most common form of self-expression. Everyone, from a Cabinet Minister in his bath ,to the housewife in her kitchen, gives vent to pleasurable feeling in snatches of song. That the singing may be out of tune, harsh, raucous, tuneless, or even unrecognisable as such, does not matter a great deal. It is the desire to express happiness in song which is the point.
Of course, people want to sing for lots of other reasons. Eliminating the bathtub-and-kitchen vocalists, however, would-be singers are actuated usually by one of two motives.
The first is the desire to make money the second is vanity. Usually it is a combination of both. I do not include the man who is content to sing to an audience consisting only of himself only the man (or woman) who ” feels ” he (or she) can sing.
Every writer on popular music in the lay Press is deluged with letters from would-be crooners . “My friends tell me that I am much better than most singers one hears on the air” . ” Although I have had no experience I would like to become the singer of one of the big dance bands”. ” Please will you hear me sing, as I am convinced I can surprise you.” And so on and so on.
All these people fall into the money-or-vanity class. Mostly with the latter predominating to such an extent that they are convinced that the former will come easily. Never was there a graver error.
The way of the crooner is hard. Because of the very fact that every other person is convinced that he or she is a Heaven-sent singer, the market is more than overcrowded. Obviously, too, the vast majority are useless, and serve only to excite still further derision for the much derided art of microphone singing.
There is hardly a person, of either sex, or almost any age, who cannot “sing” in some sort of way. Fortunately, a lot of these people have neither the time nor the inclination to inflict their efforts on others. But the remainder have, apparently, both. And it is to these that this book is addressed. I hope it will save them a lot of trouble, and provide them with at least a few signposts in the wilderness of doubt and ignorance in which most of them wander.
Do not be offended if my attitude seems a little harsh, or my remarks over-cynical. But, really, out of every hundred who are convinced that they can sing, ninety are frankly dreadful, six passable, three good, and one likely to develop into anything worth while.
You, dear reader, may be just that -one. Indeed you will be lacking in self-confidence unless you think so.
But do, I beg you, temper your self-confidence with self-criticism. Take it from me that unless you have had some form of coaching or advice you cannot possibly avoid making dozens of mistakes. Even if you are gifted with a ” natural ” voice, it must be cultivated, you know.
It is the object of this book to draw attention to these possible faults ; not to ” teach you to sing.” The very fact that you are reading it suggests (unless mere idle curiosity is the reason) that you are interested in Modern Style Singing, and that you have got a secret idea tucked away somewhere, that, given the chance, you could outshine the most crooning crooner that ever irritated the irascible” ears of all the old gentlemen who write to the papers about ” emasculated moaning.”
I do not claim that the reading of this book’ will turn you into a first-class dance-style singer, but, with every modesty, I do suggest that if you follow carefully all that I have written you will at least be improved.
The Effect of the Microphone
It is perhaps unnecessary to explain that a microphone picks up and amplifies the slightest sound. It can make the footfall of a fly sound like a hundred-weight of coal being dropped. It can distort out of all recognition. Or it can merely reproduce at a distance .
Whether it was used first by the gramophone studios or by the broadcasters I do not know, nor does it matter much. To all intents and purposes both worlds of ” reproduced ” entertainment discovered its possibilities at once.
In the old days, gramophone recording was done by the horn method. That is, all the sound was directed into one or more large horns. A considerable amount of effort was necessary to cut the ” wax ” at all, and even then half the sound that went into the horn never went on to the wax, and even less came out of the finished record.
It was necessary, therefore, for singers to sing with considerable vigour if they were to record at all. Anything in the nature of a whisper wouldn’t have ” cut.”
Then came the microphone, and everything was changed.
Singers, instrumentalists, and recording artists of all kinds were urged to ” take it easy.” The danger became not under-recording but the reverse . The ” mike ”was ” throttled down ” and the artist asked to stand back a little, please.
The robust tenors, whose redness of face was in direct ratio to their height of note, became something of a problem.
The microphone has an unpleasant habit of ” blasting,” which is a jarring, shivering sound, when the volume forced into it is too much for the delicate amplifying apparatus.
Thus it was that, at first, until they grew to understand it better, the recorders found difficulty in coping with the vocalists who were ignorant of the requirements of King Mike.
And the singers, having been taught to sing in a certain way, found it very difficult to do otherwise. Their training had always been
based upon the requirements of filling large halls and theatres . Volume, especially on top notes, had too often been their fetish.
This does not mean to say, of course, that all ” legitimate ” singers are bellowers, or that none of them can control their voices to softness. But it was just that their style of singing was, in those early days, un-microphonic.
Then somebody discovered that even if one sang quite softly the ” mike ” picked it up with just as much strength as if one shouted at it. And with an infinitely more pleasant effect.
Vocalists explored this new idea of “‘ whispering-vocalism.” It intrigued some of them ; others were just contemptuous of ” this travesty of singing.”
But those who tried it found that they could put their mouths to within an inch or two of the microphone and sing so quietly as to be inaudible a yard away. Yet their voices reproduced as strongly as if they had sung at the top of their voices and used every effort.
And in this absence of effort they found several virtues. Firstly, that it suited the microphone so well ; secondly, that it gave a new timbre to their voices by making audible harmonics and upper partials which had never previously been heard ; thirdly, that it enabled them to enunciate with far greater clarity than before ; fourthly, that it gave to their voices, when reproduced, an almost stereoscopic effect ; fifthly, that it eliminated most of the danger of blasting ; and, sixthly, that it was far easier work and was something new, anyway.
All of which called into being a new kind of singer. Some of the more versatile of the ” straight ” singers studied this new method, mastered it, and adapted it to their own ends.
Those who couldn’t or wouldn’t were eventually catered for by the growing technique of the recording or broadcasting engineers, and continued to sneer at ” these whispering vocalists.”
What is ” Crooning ” ?
MOST things that are new come in for a lot of abuse. Especially if they are new art forms. Even to call them ” art forms ” is enough to rouse the ire of the thoroughly hard-bitten diehards.
And of all the many innovations of the past few years ” crooning ” has had directed at it the most derision and contempt.
Before we go any further with this book I would like to deal with this attitude, because until the reader really understands the reasons for it, and the answer to it, he is likely to suffer from some kind of inferiority complex to feel that the ambition to become a singer in the modern microphone style is something shameful and unmanly.
The very word ‘ microphone ‘ supplies the whole answer. It is this simple electrical device which gave rise to the whole art of ” crooning,” brought into being hosts of new artists, and immeasurably widened the scope of the entertainment profession.
Let us pause for a moment to examine this word ” crooning.” It is a horrible expression, and I use it only because there seems to be nothing else . It is associated with all the unpleasant, smeary, wobbling vocalisms that one ever heard. It is perhaps unnecessary to say that modern microphone singing, even of popular dance tunes, need not be like that.
Different, dictionaries give varying definitions, although none of them is up-to-date enough to define it as “quiet singing into a microphone, in the modern dance-band style.” Their efforts vary between “a low moaning sound, as of animals in pain” to “the soft singing of a mother to her child.”
Neither of these is very complimentary;. but at least the former supplied a new joke for hard-up humourists ! It is generally accepted as being a sign of weakness, I am well aware, to offer a defence when no specific attack has been made, but nevertheless there have been so many general attacks on this type of singing, and so few defences of it, that I feel justified in entering the lists.
The microphone brought into being, and some-times into very prominent being, a whole host of singers who otherwise would never have been heard. There were many performers whose untrained voices, although naturally sweet and pleasing, were not strong enough for the public platform. To these the microphone was more than kind and gave them the power, with the turn of a switch, to drown the most brazen-lunged quasi-operatic singer who ever shook the rafters.
This angered the diehards. ” A poor kind of singer is this,” they said scornfully, ” who has to call in artificial aids before he can be heard ! ”
But that seems to me to be a poor argument. It is as logical to say ” A poor kind of a star is that which cannot be seen without a telescope ! ”
Confronted with that simile, the anti-crooner usually changes his point of attack. ” How can you call these people singers,” he insists, ” if they have never been taught to sing, know nothing about voice production, and less about diction ? “
To which the answer is that if a crooner produces a sound which is unpleasing, and distorts his words beyond recognition, he will not be a success, even as a crooner.
Most crooners are untrained in the first principles of singing and enunciation ; more’s the pity. But it must be admitted.
But whose is the fault ? Who is it who has the knowledge to teach these ” natural singers ” (for that is what they are) where and how to breathe, how to pronounce their consonants and vowels, how to phrase, how to sing in their best register, how to control their vibrato, reduce their portamento, and free them of all the annoying tricks which ignorance and inexperience bring ?
The legitimate singers and teachers, of course. But they will not. ” No,” they say, ” you learn to sing our way or not at all ! ”
And so the crooner continues in his errors, sneered at by just the very people who could help him most. There is no possible way for a singer to learn to sing in the modern microphone style. There is no school which caters for it, no recognised teachers, the musical colleges are just con-temptuous, and this, so far as I know, is the first book which has ever been written on the subject.
Is it any wonder, then, that most crooners are dreadful ? Yes, I readily admit it. But then, are not most ” straight ” singers, judged by the highest standards in their own sphere, also dreadful ? Is all music bad because a bad café band plays it badly ? Indeed no. There are crooners who produce beautiful sounds with their voices. Surely this is undeniable ? Their singing may not be academic, but it is often intensely pleasing, and unquestionably gives pleasure to millions.
What more can be asked of singing than that ?
….. On my break the other night I took a short walk across Piccadilly Circus and up Jermyn Street. I went in search of The Monseigneur Restaurant. You wont find it in on the map. It closed down in 1934.
So why the interest? Because back in the early 30s, The Monseigneur was home to some of the best music in England. Its founder, Jack Upson, made his fortune in the shoe trade. Dolcis shoes was his family business. When he found himself in need of a venue to entertain his many lady friends a restaurant seemed the obvious choice.
A restaurant like the Monseigneur could stay open long after the pubs had shut. On Thursdays it stayed open as late as 2am.Patrons walked in down through the fan lit door on the right, guided by gold balustrades. Downstairs in the basement the walls were frescoed in lavish red and blue amid rich, silk tapestries. The band swung out to a clientele including the future King Edward VIII.
Roy Fox and Mantovani led bands here. And so did Lew Stones band between 1932 and 1934. Among his personnel were the trumpet player Nat Gonella and 30s heart throb Al Bowlly on vocals. Listening to him, it was said, was like having lemonade poured down your spine. He died nearby aged just 43 when a Luftwaffe bomb exploded outside his flat.
So what’s it like now? First of all the building wasn’t bombed or bulldozed. The ground floor now houses Gotti’s Italian Restaurant. But walk down the steps into what’s now the Jermyn Street Theatre and you’re standing in the very room where Stone’s band broadcast live on the BBC for 90 minutes every Tuesday night at 10.30pm.
Dancing at home was a big deal during the depression. With as many as five million radio sets in the country its easy to understand how Lew Stone became a household name. Nowadays it takes imagination to keep the glamour alive.
After the Monseigneur closed the building was converted to a cinema, later renowned for showing sleazy movies. Its transformation into a theatre in 1994 restored its respectability.
Martin, a helpful member of the theatres staff, is the only person I meet who has any knowledge of the buildings provenance. He walks me through to the office and shows me one of The Monseigneur’s original menus, preserved in a frame. Aside from the backstage dressing rooms its the sole reminder of the hotspot this place once was.
I walk out onto Jermyn Street, home of high fashion, where Beau Brummell once polished his boots with champagne. Directly opposite the former Monseigneur there’s now a Tesco’s Metro.
In true 30s style I buy a pack of fags and pitifully puff my way back to work. I hope to make it onto the X90 before oblivion covers my tracks. I checked, and Lew Stones name didn’t even make it on to the menu.