I Like Spike

JORDAN YOUNG DIDN’T HAVE TO write a new book about Spike Jones. He covered the topic quite adequately when he came out with the first-ever biography of the bandleader in 1984, and he expanded that book a decade later, and again a decade after that. But the latest, recently published fourth edition of Spike Jones off the Record (BearManor Media) is larger and more lavish still, nearly 500 pages of biography, analysis, anecdote, and discography.

I was already impressed with Young’s dedication to this purpose back when the second edition came out. I compared it to the earlier book and discovered that he rewrote sections to add information, correct errors, or streamline the text. I’m even more impressed with the transition to edition four (the third edition escaped me). Compare it with its predecessors and you find that all of the earlier chapter titles reappear, but in the decades between editions, lots of new info has come to light, and Young has been diligent about gathering it, alongside more photos and other memorabilia, which are reproduced in this volume more crisply than in the earlier editions. .

The new book has gone back to the large format book of the first edition – the second was eye-strainingly smaller – but it’s easier to read than both of the others, with a slightly larger typeface and good use of a two-column format.

This isn’t a straight-line birth-to-death kind of biography. Like Jones’s recordings, it takes off into unexpected directions to delightful effect. The story starts, as it should, with the 1942 release of “Der Führer’s Face,” the record that shot Jones and His City Slickers to stardom. Written for a Donald Duck cartoon, someone (there are a few versions of the story) put it in Jones’s hand. At that point, Spike’s band had recorded only a handful of sides during the preceding year, mostly old songs like “Come Josephine in My Flying Machine” or cornball novelties like “Pass the Biscuits, Mirandy.” A group called the Hoosier Hotshots had a far greater reputation at the time for raucous comedy records, but they were frightened away from this one by the raspberry.

It was a point of concern for Jones, too, so he recorded the song in two versions, one of which used a trombone fonk for the offending salute. But the rubber-flapped Bronx cheer gadget made a far more satisfying sound, and, as soon as it was released, disc jockey Martin Block played it repeatedly on his show and offered copies of the 78 to listeners as a War Bonds-buying bonus.

Like the psy-ops that soon would be employed by the American Army’s Ritchie Boys, this lampooned Hitler’s fascism from within, as it were: It’s the narrative of a participant only pretending to believe in the regime. (“Iss dis Nutzy-land so good? Vould you leave it iff you could?” “Ja, dis Nutzy-land is good – ve vould leave it iff ve could.”)

You can find on YouTube both the Donald Duck cartoon and what purports to be Movietone News footage of Jones and ensemble performing the work. Pay particular attention to the one-finger salute singer Carl Grayson leads them in.

But the phenomenon of Spike Jones didn’t come from nowhere. We get an overview of Spike’s early years, as he learned his craft and broke into the music world as a freelance drummer, working and recording with a variety of bands for over five years. He was most visible – or audible, really – working with John Scott Trotter’s orchestra, backing Bing Crosby on hits like “White Christmas.” (Although I swear that’s Spike on the bandstand in the 1940 Bing Crosby movie “Rhythm on the River.”)

Jones began collecting unusual paraphernalia with percussive potential in the 1930s, stockpiling his noisemakers in a small apartment while fooling around with the sound. Young traces the fascinating story of the City Slickers’s evolution by exploring its several contradictory sources. Did Jones hit the wrong chime during a Kraft Music Hall broadcast and provoke unexpected laughter? It’s as good a story as any.  

Jones found the right people to help him explore his unique approach to music. Multi-instrumentalist Del Porter had cemented a reputation as a close-harmony singer in his group The Foursome, which had an impressive list of Broadway, Hollywood, and recording-studio credits by the time he began helping create Jones’s embryonic orchestra, for which he provided arrangements and vocals. Carl Grayson, of course, was another vocalist, and Country Washburne came in on tuba and as another arranger. It’s even suggested that songwriting superstar Cindy Walker came up with the “City Slickers” moniker.

Recordings and radio time certainly helped the band grow more and more successful, launching them on what would be a punishing tour schedule. Jones was tireless. He was also a perfectionist, who crafted the songs and comedy routines into reliable gems.

Personnel changed over time, and it’s what might be considered the second generation of the band that we know from its television appearances. (Again, YouTube is an excellent source for clips.) Although Young tracked down and interviewed as many of the Jones associates as he could find over the years, he gives interview spotlights to trumpeter George Rock (also the kid’s voice on “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth”), percussionist Joe Siracusa, and all-around wildman Earl Bennett, better known as Sir Frederick Gas. These portrait offer nice contrasts to the narrative, also giving Jones a more flesh-and-blood character through the different perspectives.

New to this volume are several “interludes,” consisting of sheet-music examples that show how carefully worked out were these now-familiar versions, as well as some examples of the band’s punishing itinerary as realized from 1950 to 1954. There’s also a tour-itinerary snippet for 1946 from the diary of Doodles Weaver, perhaps the most lunatic of the band members, who also gets his own chapter.

As if all that’s not enough, there’s an exhaustive discography as well as brief biographies of performers and others associated with City Slickers, making this not only a compelling life story but also a vital reference for a completist like me. All in all, an excellent job by Young, who may want to take a rest for a while, nicely put together by BearManor Media, a publisher doing a laudable job of exploring the less-heralded avenues of entertainment.

Spike Jones off the Record: The Man Who Murdered Music (Fourth Edition)
by Jordan R. Young
BearManor Media