A unique window into the world of Cajun music between 1928 and 1965. Compiled histories from websites, books, news articles, liner notes, and interviews. Most come from my personal 78 collection. Also covering Creole, Cajun-Country, and Cajun swing.
By the summer of 1928, it had become quite apparent to Columbia's record company executives that an intriguing development was taking place. Their new experiment with Cajun music was proving to be an unexpected success. The bayou and prairie country of Cajun Louisiana, almost totally ignored by record companies up to this point, had overnight become a potential hotbed for record sales.1
Toutes les belles filles veut donc pas de moi,
"T’as des vilains manière" dit pop,
"Toutes les filles veut pas te marier,
Tu va te prendre une délaissé",
Toutes les belles filles veut donc pas de moi,
Rapport que je suis un bambocheur,
T’as parti le but que moi j’aime tant,
Mais, aller avec ton père.
C’est Madame Aubert* que je veux me marier,
C’est la belle que je veux voir,
J’ai bien suit pour l’attraper,
Et parti à pleurer.
Adam Trahan grew up around Abbeville and had learned the accordion before he was eighteen. Once he had mastered the basics, one of his uncles took him to Rayne where he purchased a Monarch accordion for $22.50. Inspired by Cajun-area musicians such as Joe Falcon, he kept practicing until, in his own words:
I got to be pretty good. I learned the accordion by myself--on my own--no one ever really taught me how to play it.1
After entering an accordion contest in Acadia parish, his name became known among other Columbia Cajun musicians. While still single, living at home, Trahan received a telegram from F. Mackey, a Columbia Record representative. The telegram directed him to "hop on the next train to New Orleans."1
Crowley Daily Signal Apr 18, 1929
All the beautiful girls don't want me,
"You have bad ways", says pop,
"All the girls do not want to get married,
You will have to take a forsaken one."
All the beautiful girls do not want me,
Because I am a rambler.
You've left with purpose, the one I love,
Well, to go with your father.
It's Madame Aubert which I want to marry,
It's the beauty which I want to see,
I have followed to catch her,
And went away crying.
With no time to lose, Adam went first to the Gueydan rice mill where Obrey Clark and Otise Monceau worked, only to find that his two fellow bandmembers employed there were unable to take off work. The owner of a shoe shop in Kaplan suggested his guitar playing brother, Edney Broussard, who was willing to travel to New Orleans. There he recorded "The Pretty Gals Don't Want Me" (#40501), a melody loosely borrowed from an old children's tune, "The Rabbit Stole The Pumpkin". It was an intense fast-paced song that demonstrates Trahan's expertise on the accordion. Unfortunately, Broussard's guitar chords on the recording are out of musical phase with Trahan's accordion much of the time.1
"Valse Qui M'Fait Du Mal". Lawrence Walker was both near Duson, Louisiana who joined his father Allen and his brother Joseph Elton to record traditional fiddle tunes between 1928 and 1932 as the Walker Brothers Band. By mid-1930s, young Lawrence has learned to play the accordion. While other accordion bands were beginning to give way to more popular string bands, Lawrence continued to perform and record, adapting his music to include popular American tunes.
Oh, 'tit monde, moi je me tarde de me voir,
M'en aller z'à la maison, y a p(l)us personne pour me recevoir,
Hé Jolie, tu connais j'prends ça dur,
Petite, prends ça dur, cher 'tit coeur, j'peux p'us pleurer.
Oh, 'tit monde, comment j'vas faire z'ave(c) ça,
Petite, tu connais, moi j'veux plus t'oublier,
Oh, 'tit monde, j'ai que(l)que chose pour te dire,
Petite, tu connais, ça fait du mal juste à jongler.
Crowley Daily Signal June 3, 1950
Even the Walker accordion finally succumbed to the flood of string bands during the late 1930s and early 40s. He returned, however, along with Nathan Abshire, Austin Pitre, and others, after World War II to take his place in the Cajun music revival. In the 1950s, Walker became an immensely popular band leader, bringing outstanding musicians like Dick Richard, Ulysse Joseph "U.J" Meaux, and Lionel Leleux into his Wandering Aces band. Together, with Mitch David on fiddle (and possibly vocals), possibly Valmont "Junior" Benoit on steel guitar, and either Simon Shexnaider or Lawrence Trahan on drums,in 1950, the young group recorded "La Valse Kim Fe Du Mal (The Waltz That Hurts Me So)" with George Khoury on his new label. (#606). His smooth accordion style and original compositions in traditional and contemporary styles made Walker a favorite among dancers throughout South Louisiana and into the Golden Triangle of Southeast Texas.
Oh, my little everything, I long to see,
Myself going home, there is no one to greet me,
Hey Jolie, you know I take this hard,
Little one, I take it hard, dear little sweetheart, I can't cry anymore.
Oh, my little everything, how will I deal with that?
Little one, you know, I don't want to forget you anymore,
Oh, my little everything, I have something to tell you,
Little one, you know, that makes me feel bad just thinking about it.
His many fans invariably describe him as perhaps the best accordion player and singer in Cajun music. Yet, his popularity seems to have remained in the dance halls and in the memory of the crowds who were lucky enough to have heard him perform.
http://www.flattownmusic.com/Lawrence-Walker.aspx. Brief History by Dr. Barry Ancelet
Cajun swing fiddler Harry Choates' memory is lived in legendary tales of his life. Never content to staying in one place or settling down with his family, he truly led the life of a vagabond. He never owned a fiddle, allegedly; borrowing them as he needed to make enough money for drinking. Money was never around and found refuge wherever he could in between paying gigs. "Poor Hobo" was recorded twice by Harry. Once for Mercer's Cajun Classics in early 1947 (#1008) and then again for Bill Quinn's Gold Star label in late 1947 (#1336). The song is based on the Breaux brother's classic "Les Tracas Du Hobo Blues" recorded for Columbia back in 1929. Harry's drummer, Curzy "Pork Chop" Roy remembers the recording session:
I remember those because Quinn who was a tough customer had us do several retakes on those songs. We didn't receive any money for this. Harry received a check.3
Hé Ha Ha.
Oh, je peux me voir, mais, comme un pauvre hobo,
Pas personne qui me veux pas, mais, ça m’a fait pitié.
Hé, malheureuse, quoi faire tu fais comme ça,
Oh, je connais, c'est par rapport à la mienne.
Oh, petite, pour moi tu fais comme ça,
Quoi t'a fait, mais, moi, je connais sera pas longtemps,
Mais, moi, j'connais chérie, hé hé hé,
Oh chère, je vas t'emmener un jour, chérie.
Rio Vista Club, Bandera, 1950 Frank Lamanski, Phil Marx, Harry Choates, Louis Oltremari, Ivy Gaspard, Junior Keelan
It was a tune his most likely picked up while playing with Leo Soileau in the late 1930s, known as "Chere Liza". His session at Goldstar was backed up by Wilbur "Pee Wee" Maples on guitar, Pee Wee Lyons on steel guitar, Grady Mann on bass, and Johnnie Ruth Manuel on piano. Although author Tim Knight lists Amos Comeaux as the drummer, Curzy specifically remembers playing the drums on this recording session. Apparently, after the band finished recording, Quinn took them all to a Mexican restaurant. Curzy recalls:
We got paid in hot tamales.3
Oh, I can see that, well, I'm like a poor hobo,
Not a single person that does not want me, well, that makes me sad,
Hey, it's terrible, why are you doing this like that,
Oh, I know, it's because of how I look (feel).
Oh, little one, you've done this to me like that,
What you have done, well, I know it won't be long,
Well, I know, dear, hey, hey, hey,
Oh dear, I'm going to take you away one day, dear.
Later 45 releases by Starday and D Records (ST212 and D1043) mis-titled Harry's "Louisiana" as "Poor Hobo". Author Tim Knight would use this title of this song for his biography on Harry Choates; a fitting description of what his life was like. Success and stability were never important to him. He had a naive innocence about himself, and said he was only interested in making people happy. According to Harry's daughter, Linda:
“My daddy just loved people with an almost childlike trust.”1
If you like this material and want more, be sure to check out "Poor Hobo: The Tragic Life of Harry Choates: A Cajun Legend" by Tim Knight. Find: Flat Town Music Museum of the Gulf Coast
The second recorded Afro-Creole artist, Amédé Ardoin, placed his high-pitched 1920s wails on "Two Step De La Prarie Soileau" (#40515) in the midst of sizzling encounters between his own accordion and Dennis McGee’s masterful fiddle — merging the sounds so well that it can be hard to hear where one ends and the other begins. Old-style Creole joints like this, typically performed with a fiddle as the lead instrument, derived from traditional French folk, but the tone and content were closer to blues.3 This music (referred to variously among black Creoles as “French music,” “French la la,” as well as just “la la”) had introduced the diatonic one-row accordion as lead instrument. In the early years, it was often the sole instrument backing the human voice, as well as played solo or accompanied by a fiddle. Author Roger Wood claims la la was undoubtedly influenced by Cajun music in which both accordion and fiddle were already established as alternating lead instruments.1 Black Creoles like Ardoin used the same style as the white Creoles, making their sound quite indistinguishable. According to Roger Wood:
To my ears, the recordings of Amédé Ardoin did not sound all that different from . . . Cajun accordionists I had heard on records.”1
Eunice News Dec 13, 1929
However, Jeremy Simien, a 19th century Louisiana portraiture expert and collector of Creole material culture, states it's more likely white Creoles and well off Creoles of color mirrored each other in style and in most aspects of culture. Researchers like Simien believe it's impossible to say that Creole la la was undoubtedly influenced by Cajun music. Cajun/Creole were indistinguishable at some points in time.5
Comment donc, je vas faire, Joline?
Ta mom m’a pas voulu, comment je vas faire, chère?
Ayou c’est je vas aller, Joline? Ayou c’est je vas aller?
C’est toi toujours, t’étais, t’étais pas là, yaille,
Comment tu veux que je vas à ma maison?
Oh yaille, ma chère, tu m’as abandonné, yaille,
Comment tu veux que je vivre, Joline, c’est pas ma faute, catin,
Comment tu veux ton pop et mom a dit tout le temps, "Joline,
Vient donc avec moi." Je peux pas te revoir
C’est rapport à tu jolie, mignonne.
Hé, bonsoir, bonsoir catin,
Comment tu veux que je peux faire donc, m’en aller, mignonne, Joline,
Et te quitte-toi en arrière, ye yaille,
Il faut que tu t’en aller par rapport à ta mom, chère,
"T’après venir avec moi, mais, toi, Joline."
Amede Ardoin
Many of Ardoin’s recorded performances featured accompaniment by legendary Cajun fiddler Dennis McGee in a biracial collaboration that was, and has to this day remained, fairly rare in the history of black Creole music. Moreover, Ardoin sang in a tense, high-pitched voice with a strong, pleading tone in the manner of the classic Cajun singers (as opposed to the open-throated technique more common in African-American vocalizing). His instrument was the traditional single-row diatonic accordion, and his music was based mainly on the popular Cajun waltzes, one-steps, and two-steps.1 The duo cut their first recordings together in 1929 at a joint Columbia/Okeh field session in New Orleans under the direction of the Okeh A&R man and talent scout Polk C. Brockman. At this historic session, Ardoin and McGee waxed six Cajun waltzes and two steps, with the accordion and fiddle sharing the lead, including the now classic "Two Step de La Prairie Soileau". It was an ode to one of the many prairies of Louisiana, this one settled by the Soileau family of Louisiana, located in today's Allen parish. Today, the community of Soileau is situated between Oberlin and Elton.4
So how will I handle this, Joline?
Your mom didn't want me, how will I handle this, dear?
Where is it that I'll go, Joline? Where is it that I'll go?
It's you always, you were, you were not there, yaille,
How you want me to go back home?
Oh yaille, my dear, you have abandoned me, yaille,
How do you want me to live, Joline, it' snot my fault, pretty doll,
How you want your dad and mom who've always said "Joline,
Come with me." I can't see you again,
It's because you're so pretty, my cutie.
Hey, goodnight, goodnight pretty doll,
How do you want me to handle this? I'm going away, cute Joline,
And leaving you behind, ye yaille,
It's necessary that you leave because of your mom, dear,
"You're coming with me, well, you Joline."
With Dennis McGee backing him up on fiddle, they created a rhythmic, repetative verse that continues from start to finish. It featured his common lament about a woman named Joline. But not all of Ardoin's performances named names. Goldman Thibodeaux claims to be the last living person to have seen Ardoin perform when Thibodeaux was 8 years old:
He was coming for a Sunday afternoon house party, and for three hours he sat in a corner and played, making up songs on the spot. Amede, he could put the words in a way, the girl knew he was talking about her, the man knew he was talking about him, but he wouldn't name anybody's name.2
The murky early days of the Goldband have always been the least documented. Goldband initially served mostly as a vanity label for Eddie Shuler and his western band, the Reveliers -- an excellent group that went toe-to-toe with Cliff Bruner, Leo Soileau, Harry Choates, the Hackberry Ramblers, and the other top Gulf Coast swing bands of the time. Many of Eddie's singles are solid western swing, Cajun, and country efforts comparable to anything else coming out in those genres at the time.1 Shuler's western swing band would play at the same Louisiana dance halls that popular Cajun musicians frequented every night. It wouldn't be long after the popularization of regional Cajun music he would realize it was time to capitalize on the market. Watching the success of Harry Choates' "Jole Blon" in 1946, Eddie used the opportunity to get his band to cover the song "Jolie Blonde" (#1012) with his 3rd pressing in either very late 1946 or 1947. According to author Ryan Brasseaux, Shuler and his All-Star Reveliers recorded the first post-Choates Cajun adaptation of "Jole Blon".2
Jolie blonde, si tu croyais,
I(l) y avait juste toi dedans le pays.
I(l) y a pas juste toi dedans le pays, oui,
Jolie blonde, mais moi, je peux avoir?
I(l) y a juste toi, moi je voudrais pour me marier.
Jolie blonde, moi j'connais,
Oui, mourir c’était pas rien,
J'ai quitté dedans la terre,
Aussi longtemps, oui, mais, jolie fille,
Quel espoir et quel avenir j'peux avoir?
Crowley Daily Signal Aug 16, 1949
Eddie Shuler's vocalist was Frankie "Tee Tee" Mailhes who sang the song as close to the Choates recording as possible. Eddie had fond thoughts of Harry's song and his early recording:
Harry Choates was one of them overnight sensations. He went and cut that “Jole Blon” thing... I thought Choates was a real good fiddle player. He had a charisma about him that was outstanding.1
Pretty blond, if you believe,
It was just you over there in the countryside,
It's not just you over there in the countryside, yeh,
Pretty blonde, well, what can I have?
It's just you over there, I would like to marry.
Pretty blond, I know,
Yeh, dying, it's nothing,
I'm left in the dirt,
So long, yeh, well, pretty girl,
What hope and what future can I have?
Most of the Cajun songs that Eddie Shuler could record with his Reveliers ended up going nowhere. He struggled getting his group to gain any popular traction.Eddie's #1012 label used the same label and plant as maroon version of #1011. It would be the last logo with the motto "Everyone A Treat".
During 1929, Paramount had gained enough interest in Cajun music to bring in fiddler Leo Soileau and his new accordion player Moise Robin to the Gennett Recording Studio, Starr Piano Company Building, Whitewater Gorge Park in Richmond, Indiana. The two were carrying on the earlier work that Soileau had begun with his late friend, Mayuse Lafleur. The Soileau-Robin recordings are interesting for their tension filled playing, particularly Soileau's "special", the "Easy Rider Blues" (#12808), which indicated a debt to the Texas blues-man Blind Lemon Jefferson. While the words borrow from Jefferson's iconic song, the melody follows closer to his "Black Snake Moan" released in 1927. Leo's lyrics are more of a mesmerizing chant with English vocal calls surrounding the word "rider", "woman" and "mama". When folklorist Ralph Rinzler asked Leo if there were any songs he wrote that hadn't been written before, Leo claimed "Easy Rider Blues". Soileau recalls the recording after is made it's way in stores:
That was popular down here boy! Very good!6
Starr Piano Company
According to author Ryan Brasseaux:
Soileau's English-language lament "Easy Rider Blues" featured the intricate interplay between the fiddle and accordion voices. Moise kept time with his left hand on the accordion's two bass chords, while interjecting syncopated riffs between Soileau's crying fiddle runs. The fiddler's experimental composition represented the collision of conflicting instrumental styles. Their bluesy interplay sounded like a tense debate between the fiddle and Robin's aggressive accordion rebuttals.4
Goodbye ride, my soul rider,
Goodbye ride, my soul rider, rider, rider, rider, rider,
Woman, woman, if you flag my train, woman,
I'm sure gonna let you ride.
Mama, mama, there's trouble around my bed,
Mama, malheurse, mama.
Moise Robin
Early Cajun music and early Mississippi Delta blues recordings often collided into what is known as "Cajun blues". According to John Broven, "their Paramount version of 'Easy Rider Blues' was a remarkable Cajun-blues performance."5 After their return to Arnaudville, Louisiana, the duo moved to Opelousas and hired a manager, Elton Doucet. Robin played more dances and recorded two more times with Soileau before he wanted a break from the musician’s life and quit. However, according to Soileau, the duo never hit off. Tension stemmed from artistic differences. Robin recalled the tension as well:
Leo always wanted to take the lead when we played. He kept the lead and I had to follow him. It's bothersome to always follow a violin, you see. It's difficult. I had to play below his violin's volume. We didn't play too long together, about one year.1
Blues melodies like this one influenced early Cajun tunes such as Dennis McGee and Ernest Fruge's "Les Blues Du Texas". In 1934, Alan Lomax traveled to Louisiana to record Wayne Perry in which he covered the tune, simply listed as "Cajun Two Step" on the session notes.3 Perry's version speeds and swings the melody. The same basic melody appears in the Balfa's "Les Blues De Cadien" and the Musical Four Plus One's "Tran La Ezy".
Find: Louisiana Cajun Music Vol. 5: The Early Years 1928-1938 (Old Timey/Arhoolie, 1973) Down In The Basement: Joe Bussard's Treasure Trove of Vintage 78s 1926-1937 (Old Hat, 2003) Cajun Capers: Cajun Music 1928-1954 (Proper, 2005) The Early Recordings of Leo Soileau (Yazoo, 2006) The Beginner's Guide to Cajun Music (Primo, 2008)
The Deshotels lived near Basile and were involved with many bands and line-ups from that area for their dances. Elise, his wife Ester, and Cleveland "Cat" Deshotel all played with Nathan Abshire at the Avalon Club. The Dehotels and his band were like most bands of the era; people came and went depending on work obligations.
Meanwhile, record producer George Khoury knew how to spot successful Cajun musicians. After working closely with Nathan Abshire, he gathered one of Nathan's biggest fan bands, led by Elise Deshotel. The two groups worked closely during the early 50s playing in the same dance halls around Evangeline parish, not far from the small town of Ville Platte. They made their recording debut in 1951 with an instrumental called "Le Two Step de Villeplatte" (#618), which was captured on a home recorder and released as a 78 RPM single. It featured Dewey Balfa on fiddle, Atlas Fruge on steel guitar, Elise Deshotel on rhythm guitar and Ester Deshotel on drums. Elise's wife Ester was more than likely the drummer on some recordings since she played live with them. Her driving style kept the band's rhythm in tact. With Ester playing drums with Nathan, she became one of three female drummers for the band. The other two were Bernella Fruge and Will Kegley's sister, Ozide. Cat played both bass and fiddle with Nathan until the Swallow-label recordings ended.
Atlas Fruge, Ester Deshotel, Wilson Granger, Nathan Abshire, Elise Deshotel
In fact, these women join the ranks of the few females playing and singing Cajun music during the 1950s. People such as Marie Solange Falcon, Theresa Meaux Falcon, Johnnie Ruth Smyrle Manuel, Laura Broussard, Corita Thibodeaux and Yvonne Leblanc highlight the rarity of Cajun women playing music in male-dominated industry.
All Music Guide to Country: The Experts' Guide to the Best Country Recordings edited by Michael Erlewine
Jean Baptiste "J.B." Fuselier was a popular and innovative musician, recording a number of popular Cajun hits in the 1930s and 1940s, adding drums and steel guitar to his traditional Cajun ensemble.1 Fuselier was generally overshadowed by the less traditional Leo Soileau and Luderin Darbone – both of whom had their brands of Cajun string band music.1,2 In 1937, himself along with Preston Manuel and Beethoven Miller left for New Orleans to record "Elton Two Step" (#2016) for Bluebird records.
Eh, cherie
Moi, je m'en vas toujours, mais, moi tout seul,
Tu m'as quitte personne mais pour m'aimer,
Comment tu crois que moi je peux faire, jolie,
Toujours tout seul a ma maison.
He, petite mom, quoi moi je vas faire,
M'en aller si loin de toi, jolie,
Mais tu cois plus ces beaux yeux noirs, catin,
Comment t'aime ca, tu sais que moi j'aime tant.
J.B. Fuselier
The same melody appears even earlier in Amede Ardoin's 1929 recording "Two Step de Mama", not to be confused with Ardoin's "Two Step De Elton". Eventually, in 1948, Iry Lejeune would make this into his well known "Lacassine Special". Both Elton and Lacassine are small towns in the southwestern part of the state.
I'm going forver, well, all alone,
You left me, noone to love me,
How do you think that I will handle this, cutie,
Always alone at my home.
Hey, little moma, what will I do,
Went away so far from you, cutie,
But you want to see these pretty black eyes again, doll,
How do you like that, you know that I love you so.
In the late 1950s, Lawrence "Blackie" Fruge re-titled the Chester Pee Wee Broussard's "Creole Stomp" on Khoury's recordings as "Elton Two Step". After WWII, Fuselier joined with Iry LeJeune and the Calcasieu Playboys and the two ruled the dance hall circuit until 1955 when LeJeune was killed and Fuselier severely injured when hit by a car while changing a tire at night on a dangerous South Louisiana highway. Despite his injuries, Fuselier never stopped playing and recorded a number of sides for Goldband in the 1960s.1
