An Era in Song: 1914-1929
1. Compare Foster’s “The Swanee River (Old Folks at Home)” to Gershwin and Caesar’s “Swanee.” How
does the comparison serve to illustrate some of the changes that took place between the second half of the
19th Century and the end of World War I (1919)?
2. How does the 1914 version of “Frankie and Johnny” illustrate the growing independence of American
women in the first two decades of the 20th Century?
3. What post-World War I dilemma is posed in “How Ya Gonna Keep ‘Em Down On The Farm”? How
does this serve to illustrate growing divides between generations and locations at this time?
4. How is marriage portrayed in “Makin’ Whoopee,” a song of the late 1920s? What changes seem to have
taken place regarding men, women and marriage since the late 1800s, judging by the song?
5. “All that Jazz” was written in the late 20th Century about the 1920s (specifically, in Chicago). What are
some of the slang phrases of the time that are used in it? What do they mean or describe? What historical
references are made in the song? What does the song tell is about the culture of the 1920s?
Old Folks At Home by Stephen Foster, 1851
Stephen C. Foster, one of America’s Best-loved musical storytellers, wrote “The Swanee River (Old Folks at Home)” in
1851. A memorial center at White Springs honors Foster, who authored about 200 songs during his prolific career.
The Suwannee River flows southerly from the Okeefenokee Swamp in Georgia to the Gulf of Mexico in Florida,
topographically slicing the Florida panhandle from the rest of the state.
After Foster wrote “The Swanee River” in 1851, he sold it to famed minstrelman E. P. Christy. Foster is reported to
have chosen the “Swanee” because its two-syllable cadence fit nicely into the music he had composed. It could not have been
due to a familiarity with the river’s Florida section, since Foster never visited the state.
1. Way down upon the Swanee River,
Far, far away
That’s where my heart is turning ever
That’s where the old folks stay
All up and down the whole creation,
Sadly I roam
Still longing for the old plantation
And for the old folks at home
Chorus:
All the world is sad and dreary everywhere I roam
Oh darkies, how my heart grows weary
Far from the old folks at home
2. All ‘round the little farm I wandered,
When I was young
Then many happy days I squandered,
Many the songs I sung
When I was playing with my brother,
Happy was I
Oh, take me to my kind old mother,
There let me live and die
3. One little hut among the bushes,
One that I love
Still sadly to my mem’ry rushes,
No matter where I rove
When shall I see the bees a humming,
All ‘round the comb
When shall I hear the banjo strumming,
Down by my good old home
*************************************************************************************
I’d give the world to be
Swanee
Music by George Gershwin
Lyrics by Irving Caesar
(1919)
I’ve been away from you a long time
I never thought I’d miss you so
Somehow I feel, your love is real,
Near you I long to be!
The birds are singing, in the summertime
The banjos strummin’ soft and low
I know that you
Yearn for me too;
Swanee, you’re calling me!
Swanee!
How I love you, how I love you
My dear old Swanee!
I’d give the world to be
Among the folks in
D-I-X-I-E - ven now my Mammy’s waiting for me,
Praying for me
Down by the Swanee
The folks up north will see me no more
When I go to the Swanee Shore!
Swanee!
How I love you, how I love you
My dear old Swanee!
Among the folks in
D-I-X-I-E - ven now my Mammy’s waiting for me,
Praying for me
Down by the Swanee
The folks up north will see me no more
When I go to the Swanee Shore!
***********
Frankie and Johnny
By Hugo Frey (1914)
1. Frankie and Johnny were lovers.
Oh lawdy how they could love.
They swore to be true to each other,
Just as true as the stars above,
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
2. Frankie and Johnny went walking.
Johnny had on a new suit,
That Frankie bought
for a hundred dollars,
Just to make her man look cute,
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
3. Johnny said I’ve got to go now.
I won’t be very long.
So don’t you wait up for me my honey,
Nor worry while I’m gone,
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
4. Frankie went down to the corner.
Stopped in to buy some beer.
She said to the fat bartender,
“Has my Johnny man been here?”
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
5. Ain’t gonna tell you no story.
Ain’t gonna tell you no lie.
But your Johnny went by
About an hour ago,
With a girl named Nellie Blye.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
6. Frankie went home in a hurry.
She didn’t go there for fun.
She hurried home to get a hold of
Her Johnny’s shootin’ gun.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
7. She took a cab at the corner.
Says, “driver step on this can”.
Oh she was a desp’rate woman,
Gettin’ two-timed by her man.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
8. Frankie got out on
South Clark Street,
And through a window so high,
Saw Johnny her man a lovin’ up
That high brow Nellie Blye,
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
9. Johnny saw Frankie a comin’.
Out the back door he did scoot.
But Frankie took aim with her pistol,
And the gun went root-a-toot.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
10. Bring out your long black coffin.
Bring out your funeral clothes.
My Johnny’s gone and cashed
his bad checks,
To the graveyard Johnny goes.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
11. Drive out your
rubber tired carriage.
Drive out your rubber tired hack.
There’s twelve men a-going
to the graveyard,
And eleven coming back.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
12. Sheriff arrested poor Frankie.
Took her to jail that same day.
He locked her up in a dungeon cell,
And threw the key away.
He was her man, but he done her wrong.
How Ya Gonna Keep ‘Em Down On The Farm
America’s involvement in World War One brought a change of character with it, and that change was felt nowhere
more keenly than Rural America. Looking back, the family farm has been in decline ever since. Walter Donaldson
wrote the music to this in 1919 (Joe Young and Sam M. Lewis wrote the words), and the song wound up being an
overnight smash hit. It was recorded by nearly everyone, but no rendition was more sublimely spirited than this one,
recorded for Columbia by Nora Bayes - a vaudeville talent of legendary proportions.
“Reuben, Reuben, I’ve been thinking,”
Said his wifey dear;
“Now that all is peaceful and calm,
The boys will soon be back on the farm;”
Mister Reuben, started wink-ing,
And slowly rubbed his chin;
He pulled his chair up close to mother,
And he asked her with a grin:
After they’ve seen Pa-ree?
How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em away from Broad-way;
Jazzin’ a-’round’,
And paintin’ the town?
How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em away from harm?
That’s a mystery;
They’ll never want to see a rake or plow,
And who the deuce can parleyvous a cow?
How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em down on the farm,
After they’ve seen Paree?
Verse 2:
CHORUS [sung twice after each verse]
How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em, down on the farm,
“Reuben, Reuben, You’re mistaken,”
Said his wifey dear;
Verse 1:
“Once a farmer, always a jay,
And farmers always stick to the hay;”
“Mother Reuben, I’m not fakin’,
Tho’ you may think it strange;
But wine and women play the mischief,
With a boy who’s loose with change:”
CHORUS [sung twice after each verse]
How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em, down on the farm,
Makin’ Whoopee
Music by Walter Donaldson, words by Gus Kahn. (from
Broadway Musical “Whoopee!” in 1928)
Every time I hear
That dear old wedding march,
I feel rather glad I have a broken arch.
I have heard a lot of married people talk,
And I know that marriage is a long, long walk.
To most people, weddings mean romance,
But I prefer a picnic or a dance.
Another bride, another June,
Another sunny honeymoon.
Another season, another reason
For makin’ whoopie.
The choir sings Here Comes the Bride.
Another victim is by her side.
He’s lost his reason
‘Cause it’s the season
For makin’ whoopee.
Down through the countless ages
You’ll find it everywhere.
Somebody makes good wages
Somebody wants her share.
After they’ve seen Pa-ree?
How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em away from Broad-way;
Jazzin’ a-’round’,
And paintin’ the town?
How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em away from harm?
That’s a mistery;
Imagine Reuben when he meets his Pa
He’ll kiss his cheek and holler “OO-LA-LA!”
How ‘ya gonna keep ‘em down on the farm,
After they’ve seen Paree?
She calls him toodles, and rolls her eyes.
She makes him strudels, and bakes him pies.
What is it all for?
It’s so he’ll fall for makin’ whoopie.
Another year, or maybe less.
What’s this I hear, why, can’t you guess?
She feels neglected,
And he’s suspected of makin’ whoopie.
She sits alone most every night.
He doesn’t phone, or even write.
He says he’s busy,
But she says, “Is he?
He’s makin’ whoopie.”
He doesn’t make much money,
Five thousand dollars per.
Some judge who thinks he’s funny
Says, “You’ll pay six to her.”
He says, “Now, Judge, suppose I fail?”
The Judge says, “Bud, right into jail.
You’d better keep her.
You’ll find it’s cheaper
Than makin’ whoopie.
All That Jazz
Composer: John Kander
Lyricist: Fred Ebb
Come on babe
Why don’t we paint the town?
And all that Jazz
I’m gonna rouge my knees
And roll my stockings down
And all that jazz
Start the car
I know a whoopee spot
Where the gin is cold
But the piano’s hot
It’s just a noisy hall
Where there’s a nightly brawl
And all
That
Jazz
Slick your hair
And wear your buckle shoes
And all that Jazz
I hear that Father Dip
Is gonna blow the blues
And all that Jazz
Hold on, hun
We’re gonna bunny hug
I bought some aspirin
Down at United Drug
In case we shake apart
And want a brand new start
To do that
Jazz
Find a flask
We’re playing fast and loose
And all that jazz
Right up here
Is where I store the juice
And all that jazz
Come on, babe
We’re gonna brush the sky
I bet you lucky Lindy
Never flew so high
‘Cause in the stratosphere
How could he lend an ear
to all that Jazz?
Oh, you’re gonna see your Sheba shimmy shake
And all that jazz
Oh, she’s gonna shimmy ‘till her garters break
And all that jazz
Show her where to park her girdle
Oh, her mother’s blood’d curdle
If she hears her baby’s queer
For all that jazz
Come on babe
Why don’t we paint
The town?
And all that jazz
I’m gonna
Rouge my knees
And roll my
Stockings down
And all that jazz
Start the car
I know a whoopee spot
Where the gin is cold
But the piano’s hot
It’s just a noisy hall
Where there’s a nightly brawl
And all that jazz
No, I’m no one’s wife
But, oh, I love my life
And all that Jazz!
That Jazz!