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THE COVENTRY HERALD 19 May 1933 (ref. 7)
PATIENCE, PLEASE ! MAKING GRAMO RECORDS OF COVENTRY
The Coventry Hippodrome Orchestra made three records--"Good Old Songs" (two sides), “Tommies' Tunes " (two sides), and "The Knave of Diamonds" for Regal-Zonophone, a subsidiary company of Columbia, on Wednesday 17th May. Here are "Fairfan's " impressions of a visit to the Hippodrome stage during the recording.
"SILENCE!" says the Big Noise, and in the ensuing minute of tension hearts seem to tick as loudly as a cheap watch. There are three buzzes from a slender piece of apparatus, a red light glows, down comes Mr. Shadwell's baton and the Hippodrome Orchestra bursts into melody. Everyone on the Hippodrome stage believes that a test record is being made, but no, after the musicians have flooded their souls into about fifty bars of "Tommies' Tunes," the Big Noise waves his hands and Mr. Shadwell stops the band. The Big Noise points an accusing finger at a bandsman. "You played two notes instead of one to the last song," he says with a grin. "You must play only one C there. By the way, I think we had better have the whole of that intro out. And so the umpteenth cutting commences.
MUSICAL DIRECTOR
At this stage of the procedure let me introduce to you the Big Noise. He is Mr. Joseph Batten, the Musical Director of Columbia, a large and genial man who commands respect because he commands respectfully. Mr. Batten is a genius. The slightest little noise seems a big noise to him. He is more likely to discern a violinist playing an octave low in an orchestra of 100 musicians than the average concert-goer would be to notice that a trumpeter had hiccups. Perfection Mr. Batten's one and only standard, and patience is one of his greatest qualities. While the orchestra is rehearsing he goes from score to score putting pencil rings round notes of which he does not approve. When the piece has been played he says exactly what he wants altered - from his knowledge of music it would seem that he could play at least twenty instruments. At last the first part of the selection is completed satisfactorily. Just half-a-minute too long!" declares Mr. Batten, consulting his watch. "Shall we cut from here to here?" suggests Mr. Shadwell, borrowing the pianist's music. “Certainly," replies Mr. Batten, and the record is made.
£3,000 RECORDING STUDIO
The apparatus on the stage is connected to a £3,000 mobile recording studio, which takes the form of a van parked outside the stage door. Thanks to the marvels of the modern recording system, the piece is played back two minutes later. "That's good" declares Mr. Batten, "but there. Is too much blare with the Reveille. "He turns to the trumpeter and requests him to mute it the next time. And so the afternoon drags on. Mr. Frank Copson, the vocalist, has a trying time, for he has to start the second side of the record by singing "Roses of Picardy." After standing too far away from the microphone during the first test and then not facing it properly during the second, he succeeds eventually, and the second side of the "Tommies’ Tunes " record is made.
SYNCOPATED PIANISM
Finally there is Mr. Jack Wilson's piano solo, "The Knave of Diamonds," in which the pianist is assisted by the orchestra. This piece is fireworks of syncopated pianism, and Mr. Wilson's fingers threaten to fly away from his hands at any moment. The record is played back, and Mr. Batten states that the violin accompaniment is too heavy and reedy. So alterations are made, and Mr. Wilson begins his fireworks display again. A few minutes later he is sighing with relief, for he has been told that he "will not be troubled again." "I’d rather work down a coal-mine," says Mr. Wilson. And I am inclined to believe him.
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