“Damn Tooting,” said Lucy, and that was the inspiration for The Best Damn Dance Band in the Land.

As I reflect back on it all now (“it all” meaning the formation of our orchestra: Ira Ironstrings, The Best Damn Dance Band in the Land), it must have been divinely blessed. Things Good like that just don’t happen every day in North Crumble. Not by a long shot.

I think it’s important that the world-at-large know about the day our orchestra was formed…for posterity’s sake, and also because we all get fed up with visiting anthropologists messing up the Good Life here in Macon County with their deep, probing questions. So here goes:

Actually, it was a non-Ironstrings but a fast-friend — Lucy N. Fairweather, our percussionist and Moral Beacon — who inspired us to form our orchestra. that sweet, grey-haired old lady had been passed out in our setting-room rocker for eleven days, just a-rocking and eyeing the bougainvillaea. Came the fateful evening, April 11, 1930. A typical Ironstrings family scene at dusk: the sun falling behind the Ice House, scented breezes wafting in from Kissing Bog, and the whole Ironstrings clan gathered underneath the creeping veranda. Lucy looked up at us Ironstrings, rubbed her antimacassars (which had been ailing of late), smiled benignly, and said, “You Clydes oughta do something about Dance Music. It’s damn well going to the dogs, and tha’s a fact.”

Well sir, we Ironstrings galvanized into action. After flooring the old lady with a feint to the mid-section and a mean right hook, I asked here just what more we could do. Already we had founded a fund to preserve used Andy Kirk 78’s. “Nothing more can be done!” we said, almost to a man. (“Almost,” because Armando Lauderdale had carried the maid, Thelma N. (for Nothing) Edison, off to Kissing Bog and couldn’t be contacted nohow.)

To tell the truth, Lucy was fit to be tied. (In fact, we had to forcibly restrain Polly Paradiddle, who was coming at her with a hunk of hemp and a mean glint in her good eye.) Lucy spoke up just in time. Saluting the colors, she said, “True grey Southerners! Be creative as all get out about the Dance Music Problem!” Taking it as her personal mission, she hailed a passing Red Cross van, clambered up on the hood, and stamped her right foot for attention. “Ira Ironstrings, Friends, and you Crumbums in the ally there,” she spake, still stamping her right foot for attention and also because the sole of her sneaker was flapping some. “I has come up with something, and in sheer reverence to this old grey head and also because I holds the notes on all your instruments, I think that mayhap we oughta form an orchestra! Horray!”

“Horray,” we answered, to a man. (Armando was back now, picking nettles out of his spats.)

“Damn tooting,” said sweet good grey-haired motherly affectionate Lucy.

That did it!

“Tooting!” I cried out. “That’s our answer!”

“The child’s been tetched since the day of the borning,” said Lucy, “and that’s a fact o’ nature.”

“Fellow Red Necks,” addressed I (never dreaming that this was the birth of what would serve in years yet unborn as a true elocutionary gift). “Tooting! Dwell on that word a mo’. Today in music everyone is ‘blowing!’ Every Man Jack of you has been faced with music that’s been blown! Bring back the Toot, say I.”

As if to emphasize my stand, Gutbucket Avakian, the Armenian Red Cross driver, gave his truck horn a whomp with his elbow. Toot, it went. Toot it kept on wenting. Stuck, it was.

“Crazy, pops,” said Thurston, my Portuguese step-sister, running toward the stuck horn, “G Sharp.” Pulling her trusty tuba out of her satchel, she ran off a wicked vamp. Lucy stomped her foot faster. “You fat heads are swingin’ now,” she wheezed.

Frenzy set in.

Maxwell Suggins (tenor washboard and temple bells) had tooted up a heavy four-beat rhythm on his “board.” Tanya Blackberry tooted a joyous cadenza on her three-string Woolworth guaranteed banjo, c. 1907. Reminding us all of a young Teschemacher, Hot Lips Skorstad tooted variations of “A Train” on kazoo, enough to make strong men weep.

I whooped, “Now we’re Tooting, bless our cute little hearts. Now we sound like The Best Bamn Bance Dand in the Land!” (I never could say it fast.)

Hearts full and feet a-flap, our 12 Hot Licks o’ Rhythm kept it up far into the night. As luck would have it, little Samuel F. B. Marconi, boy inventor, warmed up his cactus-needle recorder, the better to preserve all this on wax (as they say in Show Biz). Good thing, too, for you can now hear, at a ridiculously low price, The Best Damn Bance Dand In the Land.

Recorded April 11 and a hunk of April 12, 1930, in North Crumble, Macon County, Georgia, without benefit of clergy.

For your further dancing pleasure, may we suggest:

SORTA-MAY by Billy May, Capitol 562
HAWAIIAN WAR CHANT by Tommy Dorsey, RCA Victor 1234
CHARLESTONS by Ira Ironstrings, Warner Bros. 1297
GLENN MILLER, Epic 3236

Side One:

1. Across the Alley From the Alamo (2:12)
2. The Blacksmith Blues (2:10)
3. The Surrey With the Fringe On Top (2:21)
4. Down By the Station (2:05)
5. Christopher Columbus (2:48)
6. Mountain Greenery (2:43)

Side Two:

1. Jingle Jangle Jingle (2:33)
2. Little Brown Jug (2:26)
3. Jambalaya (2:00)
4. The Huckle-Buck (3:01)
5. I’d’ve Baked A Cake (2:22)
6. Last Night On the Back Porch (2:05)

PRODUCED BY LOU BUSCH

VITAPHONIC HIGH FIDELITY
WARNER BROS. HIGH FIDELITY

MONOPHONIC W 1380

SIDE ONE:

1. Heartaches (1:44)
2. Sweet Georgia Brown (2:31)
3. Sugar Blues (3:00)
4. Ivory Rag (2:26)
5. Oh! (2:47)
6. Alabamy Bound (2:08)

SIDE TWO:

1. Twelfth Street Rag (2:45)
2. Johnson Rag (2:40)
3. Guitar Boogie (2:13)
4. Sam’s Song (2:16)
5. Third Man Theme (2:33)
6. I’m Looking Over A Four Leaf Clover (2:10)

“Unmask the rogue,” they demanded…”throw down the cloak of anonymity”…tell us, “who is Ira Ironstrings?”

That Ira Ironstrings is a delivish fellow is a foregone conclusion. Elusive too. And as mean a rogue as any black-hearted villain that sailed with Capt. Kidd. But Ironstrings (Lord love his playful spirit) has somehow managed to elude us, too. he’s made his second album and vanished stealthily into the black of night.

We almost had him at the recording session, to be frank. Of course it’s common knowledge that Ira records in a soundproof isolation booth (Isolation booths — courtesy the $65,000 Question”), wearing a complete suit of armor, and guarded by a cordon of Pinkertons. Ira’s been known to swing his mace upon anybody just so much as approaching his castle at radio Recorder’s, (a very Bohemian atmosphere for a Recording Studio). Well, to get on with it, we had somehow managed to sneak Ira’s cigarettes away from him prior to the recording session. He’s an inveterate smoker, you know, and just can’t stand to be without tobacco. matter of fact, he once fractured his wrist crushing a package of crush-proof cigarettes. We left him with his matches, though, and that heaven help us, was a fright. We didn’t plan it that way, but blithe spirit Ira turned the tables on us. He was irritated no end; he fussed with his helmet (which made a horrible noise while recording), he cursed at us in Swahili, and clobbered a Pinkerton with his mace. All to no avail, however. Left to his own devices, Ira had no other choice but to get whatever pleasure there was, in of all things, his matches.

Which brings us to the name of this sortie in contemporary music, “Ira Ironstrings Plays: With Matches.”

You all know by now that friend Ira is most assuredly a non-conformist. In planning this album (it was difficult to understand him talking through that ridiculous steel helmet he insists upon wearing), Ira decried the maelstrom of cacophony attendant to high-fidelity sound. Fidelity-shmidelity he sez, “I wanna hear something from the good old days. How about recording some ‘music’ for people with 78 rpm hand wound phonographs,” he queried.

This collection of songs more than satisfies such a glaring gap in modern disc repertoire. At long last, here are the sounds of song hits made when playing a phonograph was an event. Ira was inspired by those songs, and for historical purposes, (there may be those among you who plan on doing Ira’s biography) we note the source of his inspiration.

“Heartaches” was originally made famous by Ted Weems; “Sweet Georgia Brown” by Brother Goon Bones (who playd a pair of hand polished mahogany sticks); “Sugar Blues” by Clyde McCoy (He’s in oil now, you know); “Ivory Rag” by Joe “Fingers” Carr; “Oh” by Pee Wee Hunt; and “Alabamy Bound” by Eddie Cantor.

Ira fell in love to “12th Street Rag,” recorded by Pee Wee Hunt; “Johnson Rag” which soared to popularity as a result of the recording by __________; (we’ve hunted high and low, and can’t find who made this song popular. If somebody knows, please write and help us.) “Guitar Boogie” by Arthur “Guitar” Smith; “Sam’s Song” by Bing Crosby; “Third Man Theme” by Anton Karas, who it is reputed devised the haunting melody simply because he was fearful of James Mason; and last but not least, “Four Leaf Clover” of which there are a multitude of “discoverers,” among them the Firko String Band, Art Mooney and Alvino Rey.

In any event, you’ll agree they’re all hot selections. We had hoped to include a book of matches with each album to sort of put you in the mood, but unfortunately the Fire Department (they’re square) forbid us to do so.

Have fun.

For Your Listening Pleasure, May We Suggest:

A PRACTICAL COURSE IN HYPNOSIS, University 1265
CHINESE & MANDARIN SELF TAUGHT, Folkways FQ-8002 ($37.50)
STETHOSCOPIC HEART RECORDS, GEORGE GECKLER, M.D., Columbia KL4976
RADIO SIGNALS OF MAN’S FIRST SATELLITES, Taben 1
GOOD HOUSEKEEPING’S REDUCING PLAN, Harmony 7143

Warner Bros. Records, Inc.
THE FIRST NAME IN SOUND

VITAPHONIC HIGH FIDELITY, THE FIRST NAME IN SOUND, is the optimum in modern sound recording technique, conforming to the fine tradition of sound reproduction that has been the standard of warner Bros. for more than thirty years. Only the finest materials and equipment are used in these recordings, from actual studio recording session to final pressing.

TECHNICAL DATA: Recorded range, 20-25,000 cycles. Three channel Ampex 300 tape recorders, latest condenser microphones in conjunction with Vitaphonic FNV optimum frequency range control. Mastering on specially designed, electronically controlled variable pitch Scully lathes, and Westrex feedback cutters. RIAA playback curve. Rolloff, 13.75 DB at 10 KC.

CAUTION: Be sure your playback stylus is in good condition. A worn needle will not reproduce the full fidelity of this recording, and will shorten its life.

W 1248
WARNER BROS. RECORDS
Vitaphonic
High Fidelity