Filling In The Blanks With Sheet Music
As I’ve often said, normally the most interesting thing to me about vintage sheet music is the cover art; this because I’m so musically illiterate that the only way I am able to carry a tune is to buy sheet music *ba dum dum* But did you know that inside the cute collectible covers, there’s actually music?!
And sometimes, the very best music is hiding under very plain, boring, wraps. Seriously, these covers are nearly blank (save for some fonts hubby would identify for me — if I cared to let him handle my vintage sheet music), but I’m fascinated anyway.
This copy of Jingle Jangle Jingle is proof that my mom, who sang parts of this song, wasn’t as nuts as I thought. I guess if I watched any classic Westerns, I’d have heard of it; but that’s not my genre. And now I know, should a music trivia contest break-out any time soon, that this song was not written by Gene Autry but by Frank Loesser (music by Joseph J. Lilley).
(And while I’m being so particular, I’d like to note that I was at first incensed that some idiot had yard-sale tagged it with a 75 cents sticker; but it appears that the sticker is original, a way to mark-up the price from 60 cents.)
Before we go any further, I should clarify: When I say “the very best music”, I mean in terms of collecting stories and discoveries. Like I said, I can’t read a note of it and even if I could, I’m no music expert — but I sure do know words. Lyrics. Good stories. Or bad stories, as the case may be. For sometimes, that bland manila paper cloaks some serious racism. Double the “OMG” (Oh My God) points when the racist tunes were formerly the property of a nun. (To be fair, Sister Patricia also owned this cheeky little naughty clock song. I’m not sure that makes things ‘better’… But at least I’m being completely truthful, so spare me the ruler, Sister.)
Another such “goody” I would have missed if I had merely been waiting for fetching cover art to catch my fancy is Ham & Eggs, by John Martin:
When the borders hear the dinner bell
And gather ’round the table;
They eat whatever they are served
As fast as they are able;
Roast beef, veal, or corn beef hash
Stewed prunes and a cup of tea
Is the bill of fare at the boarding house
But here’s the bill for me.Chrous:
H-A-M and eggs, there’s nothing in the world can beat;
They go to the spot whenever I long for something good to eat
The Dutchman loves his sauer kraut
And the Frenchman fried frogs legs;
But when I’m hungry, what I want is H-A-M and eggs.When I take my girl to a swell cafe
And ask “what are you eating?”
She answers “Oysters and Champagne”
Lord, how my heart starts beating;
I’ve just got one dollar bill
And I’m in an awful stew;
So I tell the waiter to bring us on
Some ham and eggs for two.(Chorus)
My mother in law was very sick
We thot that she was dying
And every body in the room
(Excepting me) was crying.
But she’s up and ’round to day
Strong as ever on her legs;
For they brought her back from the very grave
With a dish of Ham and Eggs.(Chorus)
When I got married years ago
My wife was quite good looking;
But we were nearly starved, because,
She was no good at cooking;
So I bought some Ham and Eggs
Put ‘em on the frying pan,
From that day all my trouble ceased
And I’m a happy man.(Don’t forget the big chorus finish now!)
I guess when they said it was a “Comic Male Quartette” they weren’t kidding.
The cover also boasts that “Every Quartette Should Have This Fine New Number In Their Repertoire. A GREAT ENCORE NUMBER” For some reason I want to get a hold of the writers at Scrubs and see if they want a copy of this tune so that Ted’s Band can sing it.
Then again, why not ask the actual cappella band themselves. They’re called The Blanks, and you can’t get much more full circle than that when you started out talking about rather blank sheet music, can you?










In October 1883, Theodore Presser began publishing The Etude, a magazine of music for experts and students. Presser had studied music and led university department for years, but wished to spread the love and understanding of music beyond the conservatory and university. With $250, Presser started publishing his music magazine and almost immediately had to expand to larger facilities to keep up with the demand.
evolved to include jazz, ragtime, modern composers, and encompass new technologies from the phonograph to radio to television. This progression is what appeals most to a non-musician like myself. While I wouldn’t pass up a copy of Radio Guide and its articles on performers and music, The Etude has always seemed a bit more stuffy and mechanical. While The Etude does include a good amount of training and technique, the
magazines are usually quite readable. There are often articles on the quality of music itself, profiles on the lives of composers and performers, and stories about how instruments are made or advents in new technology as it applies to music. There’s a surprising amount of overlap between The Etudes of the 1930s and Radio Guides from the 1930s — their focus may be different, but record collectors like myself won’t be disappointed by the articles of this period.
black-and-white, although the outside back cover was usually in color. The Etude’s covers changed in style as well over the years — in the beginning, each issue was page-numbered by volume, but this practice diminished by the 1920s and the magazine began to look more like a modern magazine. Earlier magazines measured 13-1/2″ x 10-1/2″ but in the early 1940s the format changed to a sheet-music-like 9-1/2″ x 12″. In my opinion, the cover art through the 1930s was the best of the magazine; after the smaller format change, covers were still creative, but by the 1950s covers seemed to use more clip-art, photos, and classic paintings. Before the 1920s, only the January issue had a cover, as the rest of the year was expected to be bound into a single edition.





