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| The Ol' Perfessor |
For this last chapter of the Big Band leaders of the late 1930s-early 1940s, the topic turns to the happiest and, all things considered (Exhibit A and Exhibit B) the least sociopathic.
“This band was secure enough to be downright silly, something the Millers and Goodmans would never have done.”
I’m not sure why they dragged Glenn Miller into this. He seemed like one of the nice ones. Also, this:
“He was one of the most outrageous, over the top performers of the whole swing era. From the late 30s to the late 40s he was the physical embodiment of the word success, with eleven #1 records and thirty-five top tens! He starred in seven feature films with such co-stars as Lucille Ball, John Barrymore, Karloff, Lugosi, Lorre. Kyser kept his radio show, Kay Kyser's Kollege of Musical Knowledge in the top ten for eleven years on NBC, yet if you ask the average swing fan about him today, they'll likely reply, ‘Kay Kyser. Who's she?’”
James Kern Kyser, who later found fame as Kay Kyser, was born in Rocky Mount, North Carolina to a solid middle-class, two-income family; his mother, Emily Royster (nee Howell) was the first female licensed pharmacist in the state of North Carolina. Unlike the titans of the swing era, Kyser had neither a favored instrument nor a deep passion for music. He did learn the clarinet and played well enough to record a couple sides early in his career, but the role of master entertainer was his true calling. And he would lean into that eventually.
Kyser met North Carolina’s most famous bandleader, Hal Kemp (profiled here) while still in college and Kemp would give him two major lifts to his career. Recognizing his charisma and indefatigable energy, Kemp handed the reins of the University of North Carolina’s band, the Carolina Club Orchestra, to Kyser when he departed to start his own professional band in 1927. Kyser walked in his mentor’s footsteps after graduation, forming a band of his own (ft. saxophonist Sully Mason and with George Duning handling the arranging) and, by touring night spots across the American Midwest, he built up his own following.
Kemp handed Kyser his second break – and this was the big one – when he recommended Kyser’s band to take over his spot at Chicago’s famous Blackhawk Restaurant in 1934. Having a stable job helped him land talent – he had Merwyn Bogue, aka, “Ish Kabibble” (a spin on “Ish Ga Bibble” which loosely translates to “I should worry”) since 1931, but he added future stars Ginny Simms and “Handsome” Harry Babbit during his time at the Blackhawk – and the band started to record Duning’s arrangements, the most famous being the song that would become his theme, “Thinking of You.” But it took a brainstorm Kyser, et, al. to make him a household name during the war years.
According to one page of the official Kay Kyser website, “Kay Kyser’s Kollege of Musical Knowledge” came about as a way to liven up Monday nights at the Blackhawk – and it started as just “Kay’s Klass.” His orchestra continued to play music in the act, but the quiz show element/concept was introduced as informal stage-banter to loosen up the people who came up for the Monday amateur nights. His young agent, Lew Wasserman (who went on to have some minor successes), came up with the classroom framing. The rest became history, no matter how many people forgot it.
The Mutual Broadcasting System started to broadcast Kyser’s act regionally, before Lucky Strike (yep, the cigarettes!) bought the rights and took it national. It was at this point, March of 1938, that Kyser nailed down the format, with an assist from Mason. “Sully” came up with the full name (“Kay Kyser’s Kollege,” etc.) ahead of the first, nation-wide NBC broadcast and they came up with a character called “The Ol’ Perfessor,” played by Kyser, as the bandleader. By all accounts, Kyser ran a happy ship – guitarist/composer Roc Hillman described the ensemble as “a functional family” and added “everyone got along, and it was happy times all the time” – and he was happy to let his peers – e.g., Babbitt, Bogue, Simms (if before the parted on separate terms), and, later, future talk-show host Mike Douglas - share the stage. And the finished product was a charmer, but also smart marketing:
“The format is music related quiz with songs and comedy. Incidentally, it’s a smash hit from coast to coast, developing a weekly audience of 20 million listeners. ‘Diplomas’ are mailed to listeners sending in quiz questions used on-air.”
Success opened many doors for Kyser. The movie business came calling almost immediately, starting with a film that headlined one of his famous catch-phrases, That’s Right – You’re Wrong (1939; another was, “C’mon, chillun! Le’s dance!”), and continuing to his biggest on-screen successes, Stage Door Canteen and Thousands Cheer (both 1943), and one more from the same year, Around the World, a movie that, per Wikipedia, “fictionalized [Kyser’s] band’s international tours of military camps. As noted in the second quote above, Kyser shared the screen with some of the biggest stars of Hollywood’s Golden Era; even the Warner Bros. cartoons got a piece of him when he played “Cake-Icer” in a Porky Pig cartoon titled, “Africa Squeaks.” (It really should go without saying that that cartoon is tasteful as you think; the Dr. Livingston bit, on the other hand, is solid.)
“This band was secure enough to be downright silly, something the Millers and Goodmans would never have done.”
I’m not sure why they dragged Glenn Miller into this. He seemed like one of the nice ones. Also, this:
“He was one of the most outrageous, over the top performers of the whole swing era. From the late 30s to the late 40s he was the physical embodiment of the word success, with eleven #1 records and thirty-five top tens! He starred in seven feature films with such co-stars as Lucille Ball, John Barrymore, Karloff, Lugosi, Lorre. Kyser kept his radio show, Kay Kyser's Kollege of Musical Knowledge in the top ten for eleven years on NBC, yet if you ask the average swing fan about him today, they'll likely reply, ‘Kay Kyser. Who's she?’”
James Kern Kyser, who later found fame as Kay Kyser, was born in Rocky Mount, North Carolina to a solid middle-class, two-income family; his mother, Emily Royster (nee Howell) was the first female licensed pharmacist in the state of North Carolina. Unlike the titans of the swing era, Kyser had neither a favored instrument nor a deep passion for music. He did learn the clarinet and played well enough to record a couple sides early in his career, but the role of master entertainer was his true calling. And he would lean into that eventually.
Kyser met North Carolina’s most famous bandleader, Hal Kemp (profiled here) while still in college and Kemp would give him two major lifts to his career. Recognizing his charisma and indefatigable energy, Kemp handed the reins of the University of North Carolina’s band, the Carolina Club Orchestra, to Kyser when he departed to start his own professional band in 1927. Kyser walked in his mentor’s footsteps after graduation, forming a band of his own (ft. saxophonist Sully Mason and with George Duning handling the arranging) and, by touring night spots across the American Midwest, he built up his own following.
Kemp handed Kyser his second break – and this was the big one – when he recommended Kyser’s band to take over his spot at Chicago’s famous Blackhawk Restaurant in 1934. Having a stable job helped him land talent – he had Merwyn Bogue, aka, “Ish Kabibble” (a spin on “Ish Ga Bibble” which loosely translates to “I should worry”) since 1931, but he added future stars Ginny Simms and “Handsome” Harry Babbit during his time at the Blackhawk – and the band started to record Duning’s arrangements, the most famous being the song that would become his theme, “Thinking of You.” But it took a brainstorm Kyser, et, al. to make him a household name during the war years.
According to one page of the official Kay Kyser website, “Kay Kyser’s Kollege of Musical Knowledge” came about as a way to liven up Monday nights at the Blackhawk – and it started as just “Kay’s Klass.” His orchestra continued to play music in the act, but the quiz show element/concept was introduced as informal stage-banter to loosen up the people who came up for the Monday amateur nights. His young agent, Lew Wasserman (who went on to have some minor successes), came up with the classroom framing. The rest became history, no matter how many people forgot it.
The Mutual Broadcasting System started to broadcast Kyser’s act regionally, before Lucky Strike (yep, the cigarettes!) bought the rights and took it national. It was at this point, March of 1938, that Kyser nailed down the format, with an assist from Mason. “Sully” came up with the full name (“Kay Kyser’s Kollege,” etc.) ahead of the first, nation-wide NBC broadcast and they came up with a character called “The Ol’ Perfessor,” played by Kyser, as the bandleader. By all accounts, Kyser ran a happy ship – guitarist/composer Roc Hillman described the ensemble as “a functional family” and added “everyone got along, and it was happy times all the time” – and he was happy to let his peers – e.g., Babbitt, Bogue, Simms (if before the parted on separate terms), and, later, future talk-show host Mike Douglas - share the stage. And the finished product was a charmer, but also smart marketing:
“The format is music related quiz with songs and comedy. Incidentally, it’s a smash hit from coast to coast, developing a weekly audience of 20 million listeners. ‘Diplomas’ are mailed to listeners sending in quiz questions used on-air.”
Success opened many doors for Kyser. The movie business came calling almost immediately, starting with a film that headlined one of his famous catch-phrases, That’s Right – You’re Wrong (1939; another was, “C’mon, chillun! Le’s dance!”), and continuing to his biggest on-screen successes, Stage Door Canteen and Thousands Cheer (both 1943), and one more from the same year, Around the World, a movie that, per Wikipedia, “fictionalized [Kyser’s] band’s international tours of military camps. As noted in the second quote above, Kyser shared the screen with some of the biggest stars of Hollywood’s Golden Era; even the Warner Bros. cartoons got a piece of him when he played “Cake-Icer” in a Porky Pig cartoon titled, “Africa Squeaks.” (It really should go without saying that that cartoon is tasteful as you think; the Dr. Livingston bit, on the other hand, is solid.)
Kyser remained a bandleader through all of that and, as noted in the same quote, landed his share of hits during the War years – e.g., “Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition” and “Lights Out ‘Til Reveille.” I didn’t find any clear record of Kyser’s orchestra going overseas, but he took the war effort seriously by working exclusively in radio shows, service shows and in the movies. That said, the more you listen to Kyser the more you hear how the entertainment in his act came before the music. Kyser’s orchestra continued to play “real” music – they hit a lot of standards, including numbers like “The White Cliffs of Dover” and “Elmer’s Tune” – but they also recorded the “Woody Woodpecker Song,” and it’s no wonder that they scored their only gold record with the novelty song, “Three Little Fishes.” To his credit (as I hand it out), Kyser didn’t shy away from the risque. He stuffed those national broadcasts with comedy bits – several featured a recurring character named “Sad Sack” – and recorded some (for the era) sultry numbers like “Why Don’t We Do This More Often” and “Strip Polka.”
A decade’s worth of very real success – Kay Kyser’s Kollege of Musical Knolwedge ran from 1939 to 1949, and even transitioned to TV – it all came to an abrupt shuddering halt when Kyser walked away from the business and never looked back. From the website:
“In December Ford cancels tv show even though in top 10, reportedly because Mrs. Ford didn’t care for the silly humor. It’s eventually hosted by deadly serious ‘Tennessee’ Ernie Ford. Kyser gladly uses this opportunity to retire with no announcement and no fanfare. He just disappears from public life. Moves family (wife Georgia and eventually 3 daughters) home to North Carolina. Turns down offer after offer for appearances, interviews, photos.”
A wicked case of arthritis was the primary cause, but the same thing drove Kyser to his new faith and second act: unable to find a cure for his affliction, Kyser drifted toward the Church of Christ, Scientist, and over the years, became a major figure in that faith. By the 1970s, he ran the church’s film and television department and he served as the president of the denomination for a one-year term in 1983. Two years later, he died of a heart attack, largely forgotten by a business that had celebrated him forty years prior. And, based on the quote immediately above, I’m not sure he minded.
About the Sampler
If there’s one thing I really want to flag about Kay Kyser, it’s the radio/TV program. Spotify has an entire episode – one recorded December 11, 1941, i.e., four days after Pearl Harbor, and complete with reports of “fifth columnists” in Port Angeles starting fires to direct enemy planes to Seattle and the Puget Sound area – but I could only find clips to segments of the show on the typically-infallible Youtube (thankfully, there are many; going the other way, they’re not organized). I did, however, find a clip that puts a Hollywood spin on what Kyser’s show looked like from the movie, You’re Right – That’s Wrong.
I linked to about half the sampler above, but I found those, and the rest of the songs on the sampler, in the few sources I found on Kyser. In the order I arranged them – and this starts with a personal favorite – “Jingle, Jangle, Jingle,” “The Old Lamplighter” (this was one of Douglas’), “Way Back in 1939 A.D.,” “Pushin’ Sand” (one of his biggest), “Playmates” (another novelty-drunk number; that's a live performance, btw), “Alexander the Swoose,” “Ma (He’s Makin’ Eyes at Me),” and “Old Buttermilk Sky.”
This was a weird detour in that Kay Kyser’s name didn’t live on anything like Dorsey, Miller, Shaw or Goodman – or even Crosby or Sinatra. That makes sense musically, but, after reading what little I read, he deserves his place in pop culture for running one of the biggest shows of the 1940s.
Till the next one...
A decade’s worth of very real success – Kay Kyser’s Kollege of Musical Knolwedge ran from 1939 to 1949, and even transitioned to TV – it all came to an abrupt shuddering halt when Kyser walked away from the business and never looked back. From the website:
“In December Ford cancels tv show even though in top 10, reportedly because Mrs. Ford didn’t care for the silly humor. It’s eventually hosted by deadly serious ‘Tennessee’ Ernie Ford. Kyser gladly uses this opportunity to retire with no announcement and no fanfare. He just disappears from public life. Moves family (wife Georgia and eventually 3 daughters) home to North Carolina. Turns down offer after offer for appearances, interviews, photos.”
A wicked case of arthritis was the primary cause, but the same thing drove Kyser to his new faith and second act: unable to find a cure for his affliction, Kyser drifted toward the Church of Christ, Scientist, and over the years, became a major figure in that faith. By the 1970s, he ran the church’s film and television department and he served as the president of the denomination for a one-year term in 1983. Two years later, he died of a heart attack, largely forgotten by a business that had celebrated him forty years prior. And, based on the quote immediately above, I’m not sure he minded.
About the Sampler
If there’s one thing I really want to flag about Kay Kyser, it’s the radio/TV program. Spotify has an entire episode – one recorded December 11, 1941, i.e., four days after Pearl Harbor, and complete with reports of “fifth columnists” in Port Angeles starting fires to direct enemy planes to Seattle and the Puget Sound area – but I could only find clips to segments of the show on the typically-infallible Youtube (thankfully, there are many; going the other way, they’re not organized). I did, however, find a clip that puts a Hollywood spin on what Kyser’s show looked like from the movie, You’re Right – That’s Wrong.
I linked to about half the sampler above, but I found those, and the rest of the songs on the sampler, in the few sources I found on Kyser. In the order I arranged them – and this starts with a personal favorite – “Jingle, Jangle, Jingle,” “The Old Lamplighter” (this was one of Douglas’), “Way Back in 1939 A.D.,” “Pushin’ Sand” (one of his biggest), “Playmates” (another novelty-drunk number; that's a live performance, btw), “Alexander the Swoose,” “Ma (He’s Makin’ Eyes at Me),” and “Old Buttermilk Sky.”
This was a weird detour in that Kay Kyser’s name didn’t live on anything like Dorsey, Miller, Shaw or Goodman – or even Crosby or Sinatra. That makes sense musically, but, after reading what little I read, he deserves his place in pop culture for running one of the biggest shows of the 1940s.
Till the next one...
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