No 45 Autumn 1997 Edited by Michael Walters
More people ought to write books like this. Although it purports to be a history of Pearl Records, do not be put off by this. It says as much about the author as about the Company, and is, as Richard Baker points out in the Foreword "a thoroughly good read". In fact, you don't need to be interested in Pearl Records (though it helps) to enjoy this book, and its author's ebullient enjoyment of life and all-pervading sense of humour. Many are the wonderful characters who flit in and out of its pages, unsung heroes of many walks of life whose names would probably have "perished with their walls of stone" had they not been brought vividly alive in this book. Charles sees humour in them all ("for look you there is humour in all things ..."), but never makes fun of them. Your editor appears twice (on pages 57 and 100) and on both occasions is the butt of Charles's genial and kindly wit. The book can be enjoyed purely for its excellent store of anecdotes - perhaps one of the best being an incident early in his career when he was obliged to take a policeman's name and address ... But I'm not going to tell you the story, you'll have to read the book!
We are treated to a number of excellent discources on the actual technicalities of making records - but always presented in an interesting way, and never going on too long. (You can skip over them if you're not interested, but I found them fascinating). Other choice pieces of information include some hysterically funny pseudonyms adopted by recording artists. Enthusiasm and love of a wide range of music oozes through every part of Charles's being. He championed the unfashionable Glazunov, and other unfamiliar music, and his exposition of the Elgar edition, including the finding of hitherto unpublished test pressings, is calculated to excite any record collector. Be warned, however, many of the jokes do not merely border on the salacious, they glory in it; - but a bit of good clean dirt never hurt anyone. One joke may need to be explained for non-Londoners - the chap with a face like a monkey who lived at Chessington. Chessington (near London) is the site of a well-known zoo.
Charles laments that Pearl's first attempt at an historical vocal record, of the soprano Frances Alda, was a commercial failure and nearly put them off this genre for ever. What a good thing it didn't. The record was deleted after the first print run, and no wonder. I have a copy of this disc, and Alda is one of the most boring sopranos I know. No doubt Pearl's customers thought the same. Gilbert and Sullivan figured hugely in Pearl's history, largely due to the input of John Wolfson; and Charles admitted that the recording of "The Grand Duke" was a turning point in the history of the company. Even Wolfson does not escape the rapier of Charles's witty determination to depict all his friends without their trousers, by recounting a quite innocent remark by John about Donald Adams' nether regions. But, as if to redress the balance, Charles also recounts his own inadequacy on meeting Adams for the first time.
The book contains a great many typos (some quite amusing) and is poorly bound, very tight at the spine which will break at any attempt to open the volume properly. Even after exercising the utmost care, the pages are starting to come out of my copy. It is obtainable from the author at 9 Kirkdale Road, Tunbridge Wells, Kent TN1 2SB, UK.
Web page created 25 July 1998