BLUEBIRD BLUES:
The Leland Hotel and the Musicians Union
BLUEBIRD BLUES: The Leland Hotel and the Musicians Union
In 1937 and 1938, the top floor of the 22-story Leland Hotel in Aurora was used as a recording studio for RCA Victor’s budget label, Bluebird. Sonny Boy (John Lee) Williamson, Big Joe Williams, Robert Nighthawk, Yank Rachell, Tampa Red, Jazz Gillum, Henry Townsend and Washboard Sam all set their music to wax in the Sky Room under the auspices of Bluebird exec Lester Melrose. It was a swanky space, an ample ballroom located atop the largest building in the city. It was painted in a rainbow of colors and featured a ceiling painted to look like the sky. The light fixtures were designed to imitate stars and planets. Top dance and swing bands played for well-heeled, white clientele. By contrast, most of the now famous blues artists were struggling to make ends meet at the time of their sessions. It was welcome work during the Depression.
Nobody was getting rich while playing the blues. Making records was never profitable for black artists. To put it bluntly, they were exploited from the very beginning. At the dawn of recorded music, the only African American presence on disc was the minstrelsy of popular white artists like Arthur Collins, whose coon songs were characterized by racist buffoonery. Blacks were at first absent on record, and then, when they appeared, they were hugely under-represented. The first jazz records made were not by the creators of the idiom, but, rather, by pedestrian white imitators, such as Paul Whiteman, with the ironic surname.
The record labels marketed their material in a special category referred to as “race records.” Unlike many white performers, black artists received flat fees at sessions and took no share of the royalties, with very, very few exceptions. [Bessie Smith earned an estimate of $20,000 for her work as a recording artist, which is a tidy sum, though Columbia raked in $156,000 in sales from her hit “Downhearted Blues” alone.]
Radio, at its onset, posed an additional problem for these blues artists. At the time of the Leland Hotel blues sessions, radio stations were permitted to play records over the air without paying artist royalties. Meanwhile, composers and music publishers, like Lester Melrose, were able to make a tidy profit from music publishing rights. Melrose was arguably more interested in the potential revenue from publishing than he was about “producing records,” per se.
The musician’s union sought to gain legal control over the use of records by the radio industry and to address copyright rules. Members were losing live radio gigs and many were discontented with their meager income. They received nothing in terms of airplay royalties. The unemployed and under-employed were quite vocal about increasing work opportunities as well.
Joseph N. Weber was president of the American Federation of Musicians (AFM), and he did not take up the musicians’ cause with much relish. He was thought by many members to be a suck-up to recording industry and radio execs. He was also perceived to be a procrastinator on pressing issues. When he increased his own salary at a time when musicians were still feeling the fallout from the Depression, he was received with particular ire by many members, who were envious of his lifestyle and lavish vacations. The Depression apparently took its toll on Weber both physically and mentally, and he had become prone to “nervous breakdowns.”
In 1934, while on an eight-week vacation to Europe, Weber met James C. Petrillo, head of the Chicago local. Petrillo suspected Weber of pitting one local against another to create suspicion and jealousy, a lesson learned during a strike in Chicago in 1931. Though the purpose of that strike had been to prevent the use of records in commercial broadcasts, the strike was settled when the stations agreed to reduce the working hours of musicians. It was a poor settlement because members were desirous of additional income, not less. Pertrillo had been hoping for a better resolution.
Just prior to the Leland Hotel Bluebird sessions, in 1936, Petrillo called another strike. He announced that effective the following February 1, “in order to end the menace and threat to employment which has been brought about by canned music, the Chicago Federation of Musicians [would] not permit its members to make any recordings or transcriptions without special permission from the executive board of the local.”
It was at this point that work shifted from Chicago to Aurora and other jurisdictions. Aurora was chosen due to its proximity to Chicago. It was the terminus for the Aurora and Elgin Railroad and boasted an inter-urban passenger service that connected with the “L” (elevated lines) in Chicago’s downtown loop.
Elsewhere in the country at this time, a movement began to insist that a “for home use only” sticker be inserted on the face of each record. In Pennsylvania, the Supreme Court even ruled in favor of the musicians. In Waring vs. WDAS it was stipulated that “musicians have the right to prevent unauthorized use of their records,” though it was overruled in federal court.
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In 1937, more negotiations took place between the AFM and representatives of radio and phonograph companies. Not much of substance resulted from a lengthy convention. Petrillo boycotted the meetings. After 14 weeks, stations agreed only to spend two million dollars more to hire staff musicians. The Justice Department later ruled it out.
Petrillo became vocal in his disappointment with Weber, and a newspaper ran the story of Petrillo’s rising star. It was stated that Petrillo is the “tail wagging the dog”, referring to the union in general and Weber in particular. Weber, outraged, took out a front-page editorial in the union publication in which he called Petrillo “a self-appointed strong man dispensing hot air.”
Meanwhile, on May 4, 1937, the Bluebird Record label arranged for the first recording sessions in Aurora. Established Chicago-based recording artists Tampa Red, Washboard Sam, and The State Street Swingers were all committed to wax on that date, as was a singer named Merline Jackson, who was better known as the "Yas Yas Girl".
The following day, a carload of musicians from St. Louis arrived at the Leland Hotel studio. Walter Davis, who was a popular Bluebird artist and talent scout, was summoned by Melrose to bring with him Big Joe Williams, Henry Townsend, Robert Nighthawk (a.k.a. Robert Lee McCoy) and John Lee "Sonny Boy" Williamson. The latter two were making their first outing as vocalists on disc. Robert Nighthawk would go on to influence slide guitar players everywhere, and Sonny Boy became one of the genre’s most prodigious and prolific harmonica players. The pairing of Big Joe on guitar and Sonny Boy on harmonica resulted in some of the most exciting recordings on the Bluebird label. They stand as a prototype of the post-war ensemble sound later developed by Muddy Waters and others.
In 1938, the Leland Hotel studio saw even more studio activity than it had the previous year. Sonny Boy alone would cut nearly 30 songs that year. Big Joe Williams made additional recordings, as did mandolinist Yank Rachell, guitarist Elijah Jones, and pianist Speckled Red. Tampa Red made dozens of recordings with either Black Bob or Blind John Davis joining him on piano, while Washboard Sam and Jazz Gillum racked up just as many titles. The blues sessions continued through December of that year.
As negotiations continued, radio industry reps became willing to compromise, but for a time they insisted that no restrictions should be placed on the “destination of their transmissions,” and that it was the union’s job to get the small stations to hire more musicians, not the industry’s. It was resolved in 1938 that every radio station using musical records must place on its payroll “a number of musicians acceptable to the ATM,” all of which were to be union members. As if to avert a loophole, it was stipulated that no station could transmit any musical program to another station that does not employ musicians. Also, a practice whereby large portions of programming went unpaid for by the radio stations was addressed. Prior to settlement, hotel and restaurant managers would arrange for live music from their ballroom to be broadcast in exchange for advertising that resulted when the stations announced their place of origin, thus short-changing the musicians.
The union, at this bend in the story, got something, but less than was hoped for. More strikes and labor activities would follow. One fight was against the “juke box menace,” union members insisting on royalties whenever their records were played. The Dept of Justice ruled that no compensation was due to them. This hit the blues artists particularly hard, as their music was not generally heard on the radio, but rather on home Victrolas and jukeboxes.
Petrillo assumed the helm of the AFM in 1940 and would instigate the longest strike in entertainment history, the 1942-1944 musicians’ strike, sometimes called the “Petrillo ban.” No musicians were allowed to make recordings for any commercial record company during that time. Among blues cognoscente, the Petrillo ban has become a convenient marker for the distinction between “pre-war” and “post-war” blues recordings.
The Leland, still the tallest building in Aurora, has been converted into an apartment building with retail businesses on the bottom floor. It is now listed on the National Register of Historic Buildings. During the 1997 Blues on the Fox festival there was a dedication for a plaque commemorating the 60th anniversary of the first Bluebird recordings at the Leland. Present were musician Billy Boy Arnold and surviving members of Sonny Boy Williamson’s family.
