When the story of popular entertainment in the twentieth century is written, much will be said, no doubt, about the advent of rock n roll, the arrival of the Beatles, about punk and rap, hit parades and charts, and about the major pop stars of the day. For all that, no study would be complete without a thorough review of the world-wide obsession with organised social dance, the kind of thing known to our elders and betters as ballroom dancing, which dominated our mid-century social scene.
Way back in the Twenties, on into the Thirties, the Forties and beyond, the public thronged to dance halls, lured by the lively atmosphere and buoyed up by romance, to dance the night away to the music of their favourite bands. They bought records too, in the millions - all 78rpm, of course - and danced some more at home, practising the latest steps and generally having fun. To our eyes now, these were times of innocence, of simple joy, of mostly humdrum lifestyles, just ready for an injection of glamour.
If boy was to meet girl, the local dance hall was the place to be. After work, best suit on, our young hero would venture forth, pay his entrance fee and survey the scene. A suitable companion in tow, he would take the floor, show off his command of the quickstep, the foxtrot, the waltz or whatever, pause for a break and whirl off all over again. Saturday after Saturday, wherever you were, in England or America, you could track down the finest swing bands of the day, and dance to them live, the whole attractive panoply opening up before your very eyes. Dance halls were like palaces, colourful and exotic, the bandsmen in sharp outfits, the entire experience suffused with the promise of unforgettable fun.
Everybody knew how to dance. And if you didnt, Arthur Murray and his many imitators made sure you soon learned, their schools and classes spread far and wide. Famous stars demonstrated how it should all be done on film, countless young people anxious to emulate the likes of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire when their own turn came on Saturday night. Records, songs, swing tunes, all were produced in quantity to feed the publics apparently insatiable demand for foot-tapping rhythms. Bandleaders became famous, constantly in the limelight, their public appearances earning them the adulation of the crowds much like todays pop idols. Every town and locality supported a neighbourhood dance hall. Bands played residencies at hotels as well, pleasing diners, while other outfits barnstormed their way around the circuits, every gig eagerly awaited by their fans.
Now, much of that has gone. The dance halls are no longer there. A few bands do remain and formal dancing is still popular with many people. However, as a mass activity, its day is done. Our society now seeks more instant gratification. Mastering complex steps in unison and letting the rhythmic pulse of the music transport you into a sequinned world of enjoyment is no longer fashionable. Theres still a desire to dance; its just that the setting and the boundaries have changed.
Starting with the hot dance styles of the mid-Twenties our survey takes us deep into the heartland of the swing era, allowing us to sample the powerful sounds of the greatest bands from both sides of the Atlantic. The opening number is The Charleston, composed by jazz pianist James P Johnson and played here by the Savoy Orpheans, a top British orchestra. Premiered in the black revue Runnin Wild which toured America in 1923, this tunes intriguing stop-time rhythms generated an entirely new dance step, the Charleston becoming hugely popular. Little is known about Johnny Hamp and His Kentucky Serenaders but the choice of Black Bottom is significant. By the time of this recording, the Black Bottom had become white societys latest dance craze, ousting the Charleston, after it was included in George Whites Scandals of 1926.
The Savoy Orph