YEAH MAN: THE MAD SWING & BOLD PROPHECY OF CLEO BROWN’S “WHEN HOLLYWOOD GOES BLACK AND TAN”

 

Behold “When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan.” Recorded in 1935 by singer-pianist par excellence Cleo Brown, the piece swings in the most nourishing ways. Our musicology team has been working overtime to present complete lyrics (below) and, as ever, our critical acumen. Let’s examine the mechanisms of a bright tune that will propel us into the air, jumping.

a proper overview of the song

The opening riff circles energetically a few times before the band enters and the song drives toward the vocals. Brown’s voice veers between propulsive forcefulness and angelic flourishes. Meanwhile, she confers a torrential workout upon the keyboard, with her notoriously powerful left hand. As a listener, Dear Reader, you may feel “swung” — but can you imagine what the piano must’ve gone through? It experienced dizzying sensations that few uprights have ever encountered. We love how the call and response verifies the bold vision (in 1935) of a Black and tan Hollywood.

roots in ellington?

The royal Duke Ellington may have partly inspired this song. He first recorded his own composition “Black and Tan Fantasy” in 1927 and then, a couple of years later, starred in the early talkie Black and Tan. This short fictional film would introduce the magnificent actress and dancer Fredi Washington in her big screen debut. Not simply a musical, Black and Tan turns surprisingly elegiac at its conclusion, with the Ellington Orchestra playing “Black and Tan Fantasy” in a dimly-lit apartment setting as the character played by Washington passes away. Added to the National Film Registry in 2015, Black and Tan offers a remarkable conduit for the Ellington composition, which has since been inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame. 

a bold vision

If Ellington’s composition began to foreshadow societal change, the Brown recording situated this coming transformation in the “promised land” of Hollywood, among the country’s elite performers. Composed by the brotherly songwriting duo of Leon René and Otis René, “When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan” introduces a host of burgeoning African American talents. Louis Armstrong, for instance, had already made his mark as a jazz trumpeter and singer. Other names may not be quite as familiar: musician Bob Howard, actor Stepin Fetchit, actress Nina Mae McKinney, and singer Ethel Waters. By comparing these new Black stars to established white talents such as Fred Astaire and Ina Claire, the pianist-singer Brown and her bandmates propound a very compelling Black and tan reality. Notably, “The Mayor of Harlem” may refer to African American dancer Bill “Bojangles” Robinson.

here’s good news and it’s the newest

While a boxing match between champion James Braddock and contender Joe Louis may have been “in the air,” the bout itself wouldn’t transpire until 1937, about two years after this song was recorded. In the end, Louis defeated Braddock, capturing the lineal heavyweight title. In time, Louis would become the first national African American hero, after he knocked out the German fighter Max Schmeling on the eve of World War II. In celebrating the rise of Louis and other stars, “When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan” doesn’t advocate the old dance moves of “wing-and-buckin’” but insinuates that “Everybody will be truckin’” instead. Yeah man! 

the career of miss brown

Born in 1909 in Mississippi, Cleo Brown moved as a young teenager with her family to Chicago in the early 1920s. She learned stride piano from her brother and, before long, began performing in Chicago speakeasies. There, she met the likes of King Oliver and Louis Armstrong. Over the next several years, she toured regionally with different groups and notably, in 1934, performed at the same club (The Three Deuces) as jazz pianist Art Tatum. In addition to Tatum, she met a who’s who in jazz circles while performing at The Three Deuces. In 1935, Brown moved to New York, where she took over Fats Waller’s radio show, signed a recording deal with Decca, and produced her first recordings. Over the next 15 years, she toured all over the country before dropping out of show business to become a nurse and a church musician. In the 1980s, pianist Marian McPartland rediscovered Cleo Brown living in Denver and brought her to New York to record a segment for McPartland’s show Piano Jazz that aired on NPR. A short while later, the NEA awarded Cleo Brown a Jazz Masters Fellowship. Based upon the NPR broadcast, just about anybody would note the graciousness and kindliness of Miss Brown. She passed away in 1995.

complete lyrics

“When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan”
Cleo Brown, 1935
 

Creole babies from Manhattan
Will be leaving Harlem if they can
Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)
When Hollywood goes black and tan

Louis Armstrong with his trumpet
Will be heading westward with his band
Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)
When Hollywood goes black and tan

Harlem crooners with a swing
Will be singing at the studio
Makes no difference if you can’t sing
Just say, “Heedie-heedie-hidie-ho!”

When they start to swing that rhythm
I’ll be heading for that promised land
Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)
Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)

You won’t find them wing-and-buckin’
Everybody will be truckin’
It’s gonna be grand
When Hollywood goes black and tan

The mayor of Harlem says he’ll be there
To give those boys a helpin’ hand
Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)
When Hollywood goes black and tan

Old Bob Howard made a promise
To latch onto that baby grand
Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)
When Hollywood goes black and tan

Stepin Fetchit’s gonna sing and dance
Like Fred Astaire
Nina May don’t have to sing
Cause she can be petite like Ina Claire

Waters [is] gonna do a fan dance
And shake those feathers off her fan
Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)
Yeah man! (Oh yeah, man!)

Here’s good news and it’s the newest:
Braddock’s going to meet Joe Louis
It’s gonna be grand
When Hollywood goes black and tan

discography
Personnel: Cleo Brown (vocals, piano); Bobby Sherwood (guitar); Manny Stein (string bass); Vic Berton (drums); backup vocals likely by band. Recorded Nov. 20, 1935, in Los Angeles. “When Hollywood Goes Black and Tan” released as Decca 632 and Brunswick 02123 B-side b/w “When” A-side. Lyrics by Otis René and Leon René. [Interestingly enough, both songs on this release share the same first word, even as they are very different songs. Most of all, never underestimate the B-side!]

sources of information
—Whitney Balliett, American Singers: Twenty-Seven Portraits in Song. University Press of Mississippi, Jackson, 2006.
—Eugene Chadbourne, “Cleo Brown.” AllMusic Guide to the Blues. Backbeat Books, San Francisco, 2003.
—NEA Jazz Masters page for Cleo Brown.
—NPR page for Cleo Brown’s appearance on Piano Jazz.
—Brian Rust, Jazz Records 1897-1942: Volume 1. Arlington House, New Rochelle, NY, 1978.
—Mary Unterbrink, Jazz Women at the Keyboard. McFarland, Jefferson, NC, 1983.
—Wikipedia page for “Black and Tan Fantasy.”
—Wikipedia page for Black and Tan (film).
—Wikipedia page for Cleo Brown.
—Wikipedia page for Leon René.
—Wikipedia page for Otis René.

THE MOST IMPORTANT HEAVYWEIGHT OF ALL TIME: A MEDITATION ON THE BOXERS JOE LOUIS AND MUHAMMAD ALI.

The tops, together: Louis (L) and Ali (R) in 1965

I am party to several abiding conversations about the categories “most important” and “greatest” as applied, for example, to writing, music, and sports, and have unveiled my findings at intervals in this sphere. Faithful readers might recall my reverence for the “breath-turning” poet Paul Celan, or my declaration of the top 25 (+5) (+1) most essential American musicians, crowned by Louis Armstrong. In this post, I will crane part of the debate —as it is portable—toward the top two heavyweight boxers of all time, Joe Louis and Muhammad Ali. Nobody, in my estimation, can declare a “greatest ever” among the two, thus I will stick to the scaffolding of “most important,” and in the process, perhaps create a definition-by-example of the category, “most important,” itself. There were many heavyweights, indeed, to choose from, and three others—Jack Johnson, Jack Dempsey, and Larry Holmes—rate a mention, but scholars and experts operating in a variety of media roundly establish Louis and Ali, in that order, or vice versa, as the most significant pugilists. The popularity of heavyweight boxing has evaporated, following the less notable careers of Mike Tyson, Lennox Lewis, and Evander Holyfield, and with the rise in popularity of Mixed Martial Arts; therefore, we can perhaps conclude that Joe Louis and Muhammad Ali will always be tops. 

NICKNAME:  “THE GREATEST.” A former Olympic gold medalist, Muhammad Ali dominated the so-called Golden Age of Heavyweight Boxing, decking several champions, including Liston and Foreman. He avenged losses in title bouts to Frazier, Norton, and Spinks, and triumphed over a set of lesser-known tough customers, such as Earnie Shavers and Ron Lyle, who might’ve been champions in other eras. Shavers fought Ali and Larry Holmes for the title, losing both matches; Lyle, who died recently, was ahead on two of three scorecards versus Ali, when Ali stopped him in the 11^th round of their championship fight. Despite losing many early years in prison, Lyle competed with a number of greats, including a wild win versus Shavers, and a brawling loss to George Foreman, who needed to rise off the canvas in order to prevail in five rounds. This is all to say that the second tier characters in the Golden Age were dangerous, and that, in many other eras, there was no second tier, to speak of, at all. Ali’s most important victory may have come versus then-champion Foreman, when the two clashed at the high-voltage Rumble in the Jungle of Zaire, an improbable win that cemented Ali’s return to the pinnacle of his sport, having lost three years, 1967-1970, in legal limbo. He didn’t fight during that stretch, and was stripped of his belts, of course, after he refused induction into the U.S. military, having articulated the sentiment of other blacks, at the time: “No Vietnamese ever called me nigger.” His defiance of Selective Service, and his brash, groundbreaking personality contributed to his international celebrity. To be sure, Ali was not the first black heavyweight champion to roil the white establishment—Jack Johnson married three white women and was prosecuted under the Mann Act, a law that prohibited the transport of a woman across state lines “for immoral purposes”—but Ali climbed to prominence in another era, and could project power with fewer (or alternative) consequences. His name change, from what he termed a “slave name”, Cassius Clay, to one of Muslim origins, would enable a new mythology, the script of slavery discontinued, demolished. Still, Ali found it necessary to taunt his black opponents, including Joe Frazier, with racially-tinged insults, and even slandered Joe Louis, himself, as an “Uncle Tom.” In 1980, Ali’s decisive loss to former sparring partner, Larry Holmes, would carry notoriety, for the protégé, Holmes, would assume control over the heavyweight division, arguably, for the third most dominant reign in the history of the class. Many of Ali’s exploits—matches, interviews—were broadcast via such television shows as ABC’s Wide World of Sports; nothing, for instance, was more worldly than Don King’s name for Ali-Frazier III: The Thrilla in Manilla. Ali’s gift for a photogenic code of oratory, rap, improv, and braggadocio would complement if not propel the turbulent age of jazz-rock, protest, and rocket travel. 

NICKNAME: “THE BROWN BOMBER.” A former Gold Gloves champ, Joe Louis began boxing professionally in the 1930s, and as his winning streak bulged, it became clear to Louis and his handlers that he would have to project anything but the likes of Jack Johnson (or other figures controversial to the establishment) in his public demeanor, should he ever hope for a bout with a white title holder. He would never gloat; never participate in a thrown fight; and never be photographed alone with a white woman. Thus began one of the most triumphant campaigns in U.S. history. Despite losing a disheartening non-title bout to the German boxer, Max Schmeling, the honest, soft-spoken Louis was maneuvered into a shot at the “Cinderella Man,” champion Jim Braddock. Whereas Ali would wrest the heavyweight title from another African American, Joe Louis had to carry himself just so, just to climb into the ring with Braddock. After he stopped the Cinderella Man, Louis engaged in the longest uninterrupted reign in the heavyweight class, nearly 12 years, with the most title defenses ever recorded in the division, 25 victories. Far from being an “Uncle Tom,” Louis humbled white adversaries in the ring, rather than taunt anybody, especially fellow blacks. He clobbered five former or future champions, including the huge, hulking Primo Carnera, Max Baer, and Jersey Joe Walcott, as well as a number of seasoned contenders such as Billy Conn. In all likelihood, he participated in the most important championship fight in the history of the sport, when Max Schmeling returned to New York in 1938, for a rematch, and for a chance to win the crown. Even though Schmeling, a symbol of Nazi Germany, was not, officially, a Nazi, the specter of the murderous, totalitarian regime accompanied him, amply, across the Atlantic. When Louis hurt Schmeling with a thundering blow to the ribcage, then finished the German in the first round, he became the first national African American hero celebrated by all Americans, as the United States had begun to mobilize, politically, against the Axis powers. Louis would enlist in the army during the war, bolstering morale for black and white soldiers alike. As with Ali, he would see nearly three years vanish from his fighting career, from 1942-1944, but return to the ring a winner. While in Europe, he joined the famous Liverpool Football Club as a stunt, but years later, after his boxing career had ended, he played golf at a PGA event in San Diego, the first black man to do so. He may have lacked Ali’s rhythmic verbiage, but Louis did mint the phrase, “He can run, but he can’t hide,” when Billy Conn, the light heavyweight champion, suggested that he could dodge and outbox Louis. Indeed, Conn was ahead on points, late, in the first of two fights between the men, when Louis, a fairly light heavyweight, toppled Conn with two rocketing blows to the jaw. He also said, on a separate occasion, “Everyone has a plan until they’ve been hit.”

Both men suffered after their careers ended, Ali falling victim to Parkinson’s syndrome, and Louis tragically enduring a smothering and unforgivable crusade by the U.S. Internal Revenue Service. Louis’ post-boxing life would carry him through demeaning stretches as a professional wrestler, a “greeter” role at a casino in Las Vegas, drug addiction, bouts of paranoia, and hospitalization; he passed away in 1981. His final record, 66-3-0, included 52 knockouts, with 23 coming, stunningly, in title fights alone. Ali, for his part, received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2005, and is currently 70 years old and prosperous. Oftentimes, when I think of Ali, I think of a split-decision loss, actually, in his first matchup with Ken Norton, who cracked Ali’s jaw at some point during the bout. Ali’s trainer, Angelo Dundee, claimed that Norton fractured it in the second round, suggesting that Ali fought at least 10 rounds with a broken jaw, nearly winning. That kind of storied grit circulates but in rare instances. Ali would finish his career at 56-5-0, with 37 wins by K.O. Still, for my money, the most important of the two fighters is Joe Louis. Long before Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in baseball, Joe Louis dropped Schmeling, the ‘infallible specimen’ of the Aryan race, a result that would break the color barrier in national pride.