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.
In the summer of 1946, J.D. Miller was in the electrical business in Crowley: M&S Electrical (Miller & Sonnier). His eldest son Billy ran the record store.1 He had previously traveled with Happy Fats to Cosimo Matassa's studio in New Orleans to record Happy's band. Upon returning, his first session at home was in October of that year when he recorded his father-in-law, Lee Sonnier and his Acadian All Stars. Obviously inspired by the possibilities he had seen at the session at Cosimo's, Miller purchased a portable Magnarecorder tape-recorder, a speaker, high-level, four-input mixer, a couple of mikes and a used monitor amplifier. He was in business and the first Jay Miller studio started immediately.1
Rayne Tribune Mar 23, 1951
Dedans la porte de ma maison, après jongler,
J'sus après jongler si jamais tu va revenir,
Ouais, toi 'tit monde, tu voudrais pour toi-même,
Jolie, conseil t'écoute tes avec moi,
Oh, yé yaille, mon cœur me fais mal,
J'ai p'us personne dedans pays, ouais, pour m'soigner.
Ouais, toi 'tit monde, te connais pour toi-même,
Mérite pas ça, mais, t'après faire, avec ton nègre,
Ouais, te voudrais t'en 'venir d'la maison,
De faire ton nègre, pour tout ça, toi, t'après faire,
Eh, yé yaille, 'garde-donc pourquoi faire,
J'ai p'us personne dedans pays, ouais, pour m'soigner.
Lee Sonnier
According to some researchers, it would be the first accordion-led Cajun group since before WWII. The song, sung by Blackie Broussard in 1948, would become one of Lawrence Walker's more well known later tunes, the "Evangeline Waltz". Misspelled "Snownier", "Crawley" and "Cajin", the record "La Blues De Cajin" (#1010) discretely displayed the word 'accordion' on the front label. The labels showed the difficulty of getting Cajun spellings printed accurately at pressing facilities away from Cajun country. The title "La Blues De Cajin" reflects it no less obviously than the artist credits to Lee Snownier.1
In the doorway of my house, crying,
Wondering if you'll ever come back,
Yeah, you little everything, you wanted to yourself,
Pretty one, (my) advice, you listen to me,
Oh, yé yaille, my heart aches,
I have no one in the countryside, yeah, to take care of me.
Yes, you little everything, you know yourself,
Don't deserve that, well, what you've done to your man,
Yes, you'd like to return home,
What's done to your man, all that you're doing,
Oh, yé yaille, so, look at what's done,
I have no one in the countryside, yeah, to take care of me.
However, Lee never got the exposure he deserved. He would be out shined by a more prominent and popular player named Iry Lejeune, who would make the accordion remain in the spotlight for good.
Fais Do Do Breakdown - Volume One - The Late 1940's. Liner notes.
Lyrics by Stephane F
Release Info: La Blues De Cajin | Fais-Do-Do F-1010-A Chere Eci Et Chere Laba | Fais-Do-Do F-1010-B Find: Fais Do Do Breakdown - Volume One - The Late 1940's (Flyright, 1986) Acadian All Star Special - The Pioneering Cajun Recordings Of J.D. Miller (Bear, 2011)
In 1928, the first Cajun recording has emerged on the market and area bands were quick to popularize the genre. Hector Duhon and his long-time music partner Octa Clark began playing traditional Cajun music that year but their career would go through many changes and the band had to evolve with those changes. According to Duhon,
When we first started playing, a girl wouldn't go to a dance by herself. She had to have her mother along. So all along the wall you'd see the mothers sitting, along with their smaller children, who had to come along too.1
In 1930, Duhon and Clark changed their style form Cajun to country, calling themselves the Dixie Ramblers. There were other notable differences in those days. For instance, many of the country dance halls didn't have electricity.
Cajun music kind of went out of style for a while and country music was the big thing. We used to rent a car for the night and put a 110-volt generator in it to run power to our equipment. We'd have to take breaks just to go check on our car.1
Duhon reformed his group and added Hector Stutes on fiddle, Jesse Duhon on guitar and Willie Vincent on guitar. When KVOL became the first radio station in Lafayette, with studio in the old Evangeline Hotel, Duhon and his band were billed to play the first broadcast. About that time, they were also in high demand for live radio programs in Port Arthur and Beaumont, Texas.1 Soon, they were discovered by RCA Bluebird's Eli Oberstein and were invited to travel to New Orleans in 1936 to record the "Dixie Rambler Waltz" (#6352). Radio show host and record collector Brody Hunt explains:
I for one think it is a stunningly beautiful side. Regarding the tuning, I think the fiddle is in fine pitch, and the bass, as a fret-less instrument, is being played with a brilliant dissonance rarely heard in American Music!3
When the recording made it's way to Bluebird's factory, Eli had decided to reuse the song in a marketing ploy down in south Texas. To appeal to his Spanish Mexican market, Oberstein re-titled the instrumental as "Vas Dixie" (#2500) and co-pressed it under the pseudonym El Violinista Campestre as well as the Dixie Ramblers.2 He neither understood nor cared about how the music would be received in ethnic communities. He would do this with Mexican artists as well. If there was a way to sell more records during the Depression Era, Eli and his Bluebird team found a way.
The Daily Advertiser (Lafayette, Louisiana) 21 Dec 1983
The Breaux Brothers consisting of Amede Breaux, Ophy Breaux and Clifford Breaux had a short recording career between 1929 and 1934. However, they recorded some of the earliest versions of Cajun music standards alongside their contemporaries such as Joe Falcon, Amede Ardoin and Mayuse Lafleur.
Oh mam, éyoù toi t'es?
Chère mam, j’aimerais te voir,
Une fois avant de mourir,
Chère mam, j'aimerais te voir yaille.
Oh mam, éyoù toi t'es?
Chère mam, j’aimerais te voir,
Une fois avant de mourir,
Chère mam, hé yé yaille.
Oh mam, éyoù toi t'es?
Chère mam, j’aimerais voir,
Chere mam, éyoù toi t'es?
Chère mam, j'aimerais te voir yaille.
Amede Breaux and Ophy Breaux Courtesy of Chris Strachwitz
In the late 1930s, record producer J.D. Miller had teamed up with the Breauxs as a string band. There, he worked with Amede Breaux for a short time until he got married and went into the service. After his recording label Feature Records had been established and the accordion had made a resurgence in independent Cajun recordings, Miller gathered Amede and his brother Ophy to record with his studio group in 1953. The band recorded the iconic 1928 Mayuse Lafleur song "Mama Where You At?", re-titled as "Hey, Mom!" (#1056).
Oh, mom, where are you?
Dear mom, I'd love to see you,
Once before dying,
Dear mom, I'd love to see you.
Oh, mom, where are you?
Dear mom, I'd love to see you,
Once before dying,
Oh, mom, oh ye yaille.
Oh, mom, where are you?
Dear mom, I'd love to see you,
Oh, mom, where are you?
Dear mom, I'd love to see you, yaille.
When Miller shipped off his master tapes along with his session notes to the production facility, either he or the pressing plant accidentally mis-associated the songs. Apparently, due to a mix-up involving a future unknown Mire session, "Hey Mom" was accidentally titled "Bosco Waltz" by Cleveland Mire. When the records arrived at his store, Miller had to painstakingly apply adhesive stickers to correct the mistake and blackout any vocal credits on each pressing. Unfortunately, the Mire sides were never issued. By the 1960s, Huey Meaux of Crazy Cajun productions out of Conroe, TX re-released several recordings, including this one, on 45 RPM. Miller and Chris Strachwitz teamed up in 1968 and had Amedie perform the song at field recording session at Miller's house.
Lyrics by Stephane F
Release Info: Hey Mom | Feature 1056-A Hard Luck Waltz | Feature 1056-B Find: Acadian All Star Special - The Pioneering Cajun Recordings Of J.D. Miller (Bear, 2011)
The late twenties was a pivotal time for Cajun music recordings. In 1928, Joe Falcon and Cleoma Breaux waxed the first Cajun record with 'Allons a Lafayette.' Shortly thereafter, Amédé Ardoin, the Breaux Brothers, Douglas Bellard, Angelas LeJeune, Dennis McGee and others joined the ranks as 'recording stars.' In 1928, so did fiddler Leo Soileau, who is considered one of Cajun music's great innovators.1
Allons, donc, chez Moreau, malheureuse, chère,
S’en aller chez Moreau, nous-autres tout seul, mom.
Ça me revient comme un rêve, malheureuse, chère,
Moi, je t’avais dans mes bras hier au soir, chère.
Ton cœur était barré dedans l’armoire, chère,
Et la clé a été perdue dans ma cour, mom.
Allons, donc, s’en aller, nous-autres tout seul, mom,
C’est pour rejoindre grand Moreau, malheureuse, chère.
Oh, malheureuse, gardez-donc tous les jours,
Tous les soirs, je suis moi tout seul dans mon lit, mom.
Pourquoi-donc, tu viens pas me rejoindre, chère, yaille,
Leo lost his first accordion player, Mayuse Lafleur, in a baroom fight. After Lefleur's death, Soileau hooked up with Moise Robin, a younger accordionist but stylistically very similar. After a recording sessions with Paramount and RCA Victor, the two men moved to Opelousas and with the aid of their new manager, Sheriff "Cat" Doucet's brother Elton, they continued to play dances. According to Robin,
W'ed play every night. On Monday was a special dance for colored people. Light colored people, mulattoes. Whitney Cropper had a store in Mallet where we'd play. We played dances every night.2
Most of Soileau's early recorded output was done with Robin, who was known for his passionate, yet complicated, unpredictable playing. As vocalists, the two are similar, with Lafleur having an edgier tension about his singing compared to Robin.1 While in New Orleans for a Vocalion recording session, the duo covered a familar Cajun melody that inspired other tunes such as the Segura Brother's "My Sweetheart Run Away". Robin's rendition was entitled "La Valse A Moreau" (#15845), although exactly who "Moreau" is has been lost to time.
Leo Soileau
Come on, to Moreau's house, oh my, dear,
Let's go to Moreau's, we're all alone, mom.
It came back to me like a dream, oh my, dear,
I had you in my arms last night, dear.
Your heart was locked in the cupboard, dear,
And the key was thrown in the yard, mom.
Come on, let's go, we're all alone, mom,
To meet at Big Moreau, oh my, dear.
Oh, oh my, looking at that every day,
Every night, I'm all alone in my bed, mom.
Why, then, don't you come to join me, dear, ye yaille,
Look at that how it hurts, oh my, dear.
In the 30s, as the accordion dropped out of favor, Soileau became an innovator of the string band craze. It's an intriguing examination of Soileau's early career that reveals his ingenuity and ability to record in a spectrum of styles.1 It wouldn't be until the 1960s in which Joe Bonsall would give the title new life as "Hack A Moreau".
http://www.rootsworld.com/rw/feature/cajun1.html. Dan Willging
The Early Recordings of Leo Soileau. Yazoo 2006. Liner notes.
Lyrics by Jordy A
Release Info: NO261 La Valse A Moreau | Vocalion 15845 NO262 Demain C'est Pas Dimanche | Vocalion 15845 Find: The Early Recordings of Leo Soileau (Yazoo, 2006)
Cajun music titan Ervin "Vin" Bruce was born in Cut Off, Louisiana. His father, Levy played fiddle at local dances; usually in someone's front room. Vin learned to play guitar at an early age, at 14 he began playing and singing in a local band, performing once a week on the radio in New Orleans. At the age of seventeen Vin was brought to the attention of Don Law, legendary producer/A&R man for Colombia Records. Vin signed a contract with Colombia and became the first Cajun artist on a major label since the 1930's. He was also the first to record Cajun music with such Nashville professionals as Chet Atkins, Grady Martin, Tommy Jackson, Jack Shook, and Harold and Owen Bradley.1
C'est pas la peine tu dis que "non",
Faudra bien qu'tu t'maries,
Faudra bien qu'tu t'maries,
À l'eglise Sainte-Marie.
Tous les deux pour la même,
Ni une ni l'autre tu l'auras,
Tout le soleil pour la brune,
Et pis y'as rien pour la blonde.
Les habits son achetes,
Mais, ton idée est changer,
Les consentements 'mendait,
Les alliances sont achetés.
C'est pas la peine tu dis que "non",
Faudra bien qu'tu t'maries,
Faudra bien qu'tu t'maries,
À l'eglise Sainte-Marie.
Que c'est la cause de tout ça,
C'est ces grands conseilleurs,
Mais, ces grands conseilleurs,
Et pas le grand un payeur.
C'est pas la peine tu dis que "non",
Faudra bien qu'tu t'maries,
Faudra bien qu'tu t'maries,
À l'eglise Sainte-Marie.
Tous les deux pour la même,
Ni une ni l'autre tu l'auras,
Tout le soleil pour la brune,
Pis y'as rien pour la blonde.
C'est pas la peine tu dis que "non",
Faudra bien qu'tu t'maries,
Faudra bien qu'tu t'maries,
À l'eglise Sainte-Marie.
Vin Bruce
A direct interpretation of the old traditional tune "Tous Les Deux Pour La Même", a song made famous by Lawrence Walker years earlier, Vin sung of a darling named Marie and re-titled the tune as "La Valse De St. Marie" (#21189) for Columbia Records in 1953. Working alongside Nashville producer Don Law, at the Tulane Hotel he was backed by Grady Martin and Jack Shook on guitars, Bob Foster on steel guitar, Ernie Newton on bass, Tommy Jackson on fiddle, and Papa John Gordy on piano.
It's not worth you saying no,
You have to get married,
You have to get married,
At St. Mary's Church.
Either of them, it's all the same,
Neither me nor you will have them,
All the sunshine for the brunette,
And then there's nothing for the blonde.
The clothes are purchased,
But, your mind is changing,
The consents (papers) are requested,
The wedding rings are bought.
It's not worth you saying no,
You have to get married,
You have to get married,
At St. Mary's Church.
What's the cause of all of this?
It's these folks giving advice
Well, it's these folks giving advice,
And not the ones paying (for everything).
It's not worth you saying no,
You have to get married,
You have to get married,
At St. Mary's Church.
Either of them, it's all the same,
Neither me nor you will have them,
All the sunshine for the brunette,
And then there's nothing for the blonde.
It's not worth you saying no,
You have to get married,
You have to get married,
At St. Mary's Church.
In 1973, he was honored with "Vin Bruce Day" by his hometown and in 1978 he was Lafourche Parish's "Citizen of the Year" and has been inducted into several Country and Cajun Music Halls of Fame.1
Lyrics by Martn Cortez, Smith S, Stephane F and Jerry M
Release Info: CO 49042/NASH 1630 La Valse De St. Marie | Columbia 4-21189 CO 49043/NASH 1631 Oh Ma Belle | Columbia 4-21189 Find: Vin Bruce: King of Cajun Music: Dans la Louisianne (Bear Family, 2011) Vin Bruce: Vintage Cajun Classics of the 1950's (Vintage Masters, 2012)
Happy Fats kicked off his first recording session with 12 songs for Bluebird records, including six lead with an accordion. Afterwards, he maintained a busy schedule of produce sales and late-night music performances. Following his marriage, Happy Fats was employed by a local produce company buying frogs, chickens and eggs from farmers in the area. On the weekends, he and his band traveled about Southern Louisiana playing for dances. During the first session in 1935, he took his group along with Cajun accordion player Nathan Abshire to record an instrumental about a small town in south Louisiana called "One Step De Morse" (#2174). Morse is a railroad town in Acadia Parish not far from Nathan's childhood home. Happy recalled:
We were contacted by [RCA] Victor through a fellow here in Rayne by the name of Hillman Bailey. This fellow, Hillman Bailey, he had a radio shop here and a music store, and he had contact with the Werleins of New Orleans. And we were brought to New Orleans for the first time, and we recorded there in the old St. Charles Hotel.3
Nathan Abshire
Happy had Nathan backed up with himself and Warnes Schexnyder on guitars, and Norris Savoy on fiddle. However, during the mid-1930s, the interest in Cajun accordion-led bands was waning. Happy dropped the accordion from his lineup and watched his Cajun string band sound take off.
We finally booked enough dances to permit me to quit working, so I enlarged the band and we did seven or eight engagements a week.2
Nathan himself felt the affect of losing out during the string band craze. Dance-halls and recording companies were no longer interested in the old accordion sound.
There was one time the accordion went away. There was no more accordion here in Louisiana. I started to play the fiddle. I'd walk about 20 miles to go play a dance for $3. No electricity, nothing. A guitar, a fiddle and some triangles. Home brewed beer. Home brewed whiskey in them days.4
Overtime, the name of Happy and Nathan's melody would be forgotten. Lawrence Walker would re-work the tune, into the well known "Mamou Two Step", adding it's signature bridge section. Nathan also reworked his song into what he called the "Musical Five Special".
One the most impassioned stories in Cajun folklore that has been mostly lost to time is that of Adam "Tit 'Dom" Hanks and Alice Royer: The Cajun Romeo and Juliet.3 Angelas Lejeune and Ernest Fruge teamed up together to tell the legend of Hanks and Royer. It involved a horse named Henri.2 According to columnist William Thibodeaux of Lafayette:
It's an Amercian love story, not unlike a lot of others. Adam "Tee Dom" Hanks and Alice Royer were sweethearts, but Alice's papa didn't approve of Tee Dom. Figured he wouldn't make a good son-in-law and so they disapproved of their engagement. They obeyed Alice's papa. Alice soon married someone else and left Tee Dom with a broken heart.1
Oh, chère, malheureuse, chère, petite.
Oh, chère, criminelle, oh, quoi t'as fait z'ave(c) moi aujourd'hui.
Oh, Alice 'garde Adam, il est après venir,
Oui prépare toi moi j'veux voir il est apres venir, aujourd'hui.
Ça qui fait j'te dis ça, moi j'le vois il est après venir, (sur) le grand wrack* sur Henri,
Moi, j'le connais pas tu vu ton vieux nég'.
Oh chère, 'garde ton neg' qu'est après arriver, pour toi aujourd'hui.,
Quoi faire que tu m'fais tout ça, toi tu m'fais.
'Garde, tu m'fais plus d'mal à moi,
Dis (à) 'ton nég' que t’écoutes les conseils que les autres t'en mal.
Chère, tu connais si tu voudrais observer pour toi-même,
Tu peux te sauver des misères à pas écouter les conseils.
Adam "Tee Dom" Hanks Courtesy of Pierre Daigle
Researcher Pierre Daigle uncovered the true story in the early 1970s. In the original tune, Tee Dom sang "Il a la jogg au plombeau, et le chapeau sur une coté". The reason for their disapproval was that Tee Dom loved to ride his horse Grand Henri while drinking from a whiskey jug. He would ride with his chapeau (hat) cocked to one side, meaning, he didn't give a hoot about a thing. The heartbreaking story of Tee Dom and Alice spread throughout the land, and a beautiful waltz was created. Finally, Tee Dom relented an married Armena Thibodeaux, and together they raised seven children. Years went by, but time didn't mend Tee Don's broken heart. He was still in love with Alice. According to Pierre,
Despite being married, whenever Tee Dom went to house dances he would sing and play his accordion to the melody of "La Valse a Tee Dom" as tears flowed down his cheeks.1,2
Alice eventually married Edmond Miller and the family moved around the Scott/Judice area of Lafayette. In 1930, Angelas was given permission by Tee Dom to use the lyrics of his song when he recorded "La Valse a Tidom Hanks" (#511) in New Orleans. Pierre searched for Angelas Lejeune and he explained,
It's true. The night before I went to cut the record, I talked to Tee Dom and asked him if I could use his words. He said I could.2
Angelas Lejeune
Oh, dear, oh my, dear little one.
Oh, dear, it's criminal, oh, what you've done with me today.
Oh, Alice, look at Adam, he's coming back,
Yeah, prepare yourself, I want to see, he's coming back, today.
That, which I've done told you that, I see he's coming back, on the big horse* Henri,
I don't know if you see your old man.
Oh, dear, look at your man who is arriving, for you, today,
What you've done to me, all of that, you've done to me.
Look, you've hurt me the most,
Tell your man that you listening to the advice of others has hurt you.
Dear, you know if you'd like to see for yourself,
You can save yourself from misery by not listening to advice.
Alice Royer Miller Courtesy of Pierre Daigle
When he arrived home, while playing a dance in Duson, a woman approached Angelas. Angelas explained,
A woman came to the bandstand. "Are you Angelas Lejeune?" she asked. "Yes," I answered. "Are you the one that recorded 'La Valse a Tidom Hanks'?" "Yes, I am". "Would you play it and sing it as you did on the record?" she asked. So I played it. And all that time that I played she stood behind me on the band stand. When the song ended, she walked away. She looked... well, moved.2
Pierre eventually found Alice living in Judice. She claims that one night at a dance near Bosco, Tee Dom told the late Lawrence Walker the words to the song. The legend would carry on into Walker's "Chere Alice", referring to the sweet Alice Royer, a melody borrowed from his earlier "Country Waltz". The melody can also be found earlier in Joe Falcon's "La Valse de Baldwin", Leo Soileau's "Valse de Josephine" and later in Austin Pitre's "Rainbow Waltz". Alice eventually confessed to Pierre,
[Tee Dom] is the man I would have married had it not been for Papa.2
"The Legend of Tee Dom and Alice". Discussions with William J. Thibodeaux. The Daily Advertiser (Lafayette, Louisiana) 13 Nov 2011
Tears, Love and Laughter by Pierre Daigle
"Du Chicot": A Collection of Essays by Randy Whatley
Lyrics by Stephane F
Release Info:
NO-6708 One Step Du Maraist Bouler | Brunswick 511
NO-6709 La Valse A Tidom Hanks | Brunswick 511
Find:
Let Me Play This For You: Rare Cajun Recordings (Tompkins, 2013)
