MonthMay 2016

Solo Recordings

“The Gentleman Obviously Doesn’t Believe” (1935)

“The Gentleman Obviously Doesn’t Believe.” Words and Music by Michael Carr and Eddie Pola. Recorded by Elsie Carlisle with orchestral accompaniment on May 28, 1935. Decca F-5568 mx. GB-7167-1.

Elsie Carlisle – “The Gentleman Obviously Doesn’t Believe” (1935)

“The Gentleman Obviously Doesn’t Believe” is a catalogue of traits that a certain attractive, anonymous man lacks: he has no fondness for drinking, smoking, dancing, modern popular music, or, most importantly, romance. Through her complaint about the man’s various deficits, the singer reveals herself to be passionate about all of life’s pleasures, and she encourages her audience to identify with her position (“like me…and you…and you”). We are given the impression of a woman inexplicably drawn to her opposite. Elsie Carlisle brings to this recording a sweet sincerity that convincingly conveys both wonder for and enchantment with the attractively puzzling “gentleman.”

“The Gentleman Obviously Doesn’t Believe” had been recorded the previous month by Lew Stone and His Band, with vocals by Lew Stone himself. Later in 1935 there were American versions by Joe Haymes and His Orchestra (with vocalist Clifford Wetterau) and by the Dorsey Brothers’ Orchestra (with Kay Weber, who sings the introduction, whereas Elsie had merely recited it).

Solo Recordings

“Waiting for the Lights to Change” (1935)

“Waiting for the Lights to Change.” Composed by Cyril Ray. Recorded by Elsie Carlisle with orchestral accompaniment on May 28, 1935. Decca F. 5568 mx. GB7166-1.

Elsie Carlisle – “Waiting for the Lights to Change” (1935)

“Waiting for the Lights to Change” appears to have been recorded only by Elsie Carlisle. Its composer, Cyril Ray, was in 1935 primarily involved in directing the music for comedy films starring Leslie Fuller, but it is not at all certain that “Waiting for the Lights to Change” was part of a soundtrack. If it had been, one would expect to see the name of the movie printed on the record for marketing purposes.

This languid and melancholy song uses an extended traffic-related metaphor to describe the feeling of being at an impasse in life. At first the gridlock appears to be general, but soon we learn that the singer has encountered a more specific roadblock in her love life: a relationship represented by a street marked “THROUGH” that suddenly presents her with a red light — love thwarted. Elsie Carlisle, veteran torch singer, takes what is fundamentally a very repetitive song and uses it to create a somber atmosphere that is somehow deeply attractive, much as she had done earlier in 1935 with “I’ve Got an Invitation to a Dance.”

Jay Wilbur

“Yes, My Darling Daughter” (1941)

“Yes, My Darling Daughter.” Words and music by Jack Lawrence and Albert Sirmay (1939). Recorded by Elsie Carlisle under the musical direction of Jay Wilbur on May 22, 1941. Rex 9989 mx. R-5781-2.

Personnel: Jay Wilbur dir. Alfie Noakes-Chick Smith-t / Paul Fenoulhet or Ted Heath or George Rowe-tb / Frank Johnson-Frank Weir-cl-as / George Smith or Cliff Timms-ts / Matt Heft-p / Jack Simmons-g / Billy Bell-sb / Jack Simpson-d

“Yes, My Darling Daughter” – Elsie Carlisle (1941)

“Yes, My Darling Daughter” was written in New York by American songwriter Jack Lawrence and Albert Sirmay (or Szirmai), a former Hungarian operetta composer who had become an editor for Chappell Music. The tune has its roots, however, in a Ukrainian folk song that dates back to the early nineteenth century, if not earlier, and the modern composition retains a somewhat traditional atmosphere.  The lyrics describe the stages of a love relationship by way of an antiphonal, rapid-fire mother-daughter conversation, with both sides of the argument often delivered by the same singer. Such is the case with Elsie Carlisle, here in the last few months of her recording career. Elsie deftly conveys both sweet innocence on the daughter’s part and mature experience on that of the mother without seeming to take a pause.

“Yes, My Darling Daughter” was introduced to the public in 1940 as a duet between Dinah Shore and Eddie Cantor on the latter’s radio show, and the record she released soon afterwards helped to launch her career. The song was also recorded in America in 1940 by Gene Krupa and His Orchestra (with vocals by Irene Daye), Glenn Miller and His Orchestra (with vocalist Marion Hutton), and Benny Goodman and His Orchestra (with vocalists Helen Forrest, Cootie Williams, and Benny Goodman himself). At the beginning of 1941 there were versions by the Andrews Sisters and Bob Chester and His Orchestra.

There followed British versions by Ambrose and His Orchestra (with vocalists Anne Shelton and Doreen Villiers), Geraldo and His Orchestra (with Dorothy Carless),  Billy Cotton and His Band (with vocals by Alan Breeze), Carroll Gibbons and the Savoy Hotel Orpheans (Anne Lenner, vocalist), Harry Leader and His Band (in a Paul Jones medley), The Witley Court Music Box (with Joyce Head and Joan Bush), and Nat Gonella and His Georgians (with vocalist Stella Moya).