Technology and The Pandemic: A 1918 Musician’s Crossroad

1918 was a strange intersection for musicians even before the 1918 Flu Pandemic hit. These were the final times that music would be experienced   primarily the way it had been for thousands of years. With the exception of music boxes that evolved into player pianos, music had always been performed live. There was little need for the term, “live music.”

In 1918, radio was in its infancy; there were no official radio stations on air yet. The first US licensed commercial broadcasting radio station (KDKA, Pittsburgh) didn’t begin until November 2nd of 1920.

The phonograph was gaining momentum, but it was hardly in every home at this stage. Recordings were still rather primitive and rarely involved proper microphones. A typical recording session in 1918 might involve musicians crowding around a giant horn, their musical efforts vibrated the needle that directly etched the audio into wax. Low bass sounds were barely audible, and all the higher pitched sounds such as violins, were often faint with almost a ghost-like quality. 

Yet, a big, booming, operatic voice could cut through the wax. European tenor Enrico Caruso had the perfect voice for sounding prominent in the new technology, and one of the first recording stars was born.

“Why has this great interest and enthusiasm for Opera so suddenly developed?” asked one journalist in 1917 in National Music Monthly. “Almost every layman will answer with the two words, ‘the phonograph.’”

The Blues would not really make a proper appearance until 1920, when Mamie Smith sold one million copies in six months with “Crazy Blues” the first genuine Blues hit, opening the door for the Jazz and “Hillbilly” records that were to follow.

This was an era when musicians, conductors, composers had lively debates about how recording was going to affect their livelihood.

“Once the talking machine is in a home, the child won’t practice,” complained the bandleader John Philip Sousa, his reasoning being if anyone could listen to the finest music at home with the flick of a wrist, why would anyone bother to learn an instrument themselves?

Many musicians were concerned that other players would be able to listen to a record and steal their licks. Before recorded music, if you wanted to steal a piano player’s chops, you’d have to go see that player a hell of a lot of times. Others argued, “Who will bother to pay to see us, if they can hear, Enrico Caruso in the comfort of their own home?”

These were days of change and a rethinking how the music world was going to function. It might just reflect some the emotions musicians today feel about streaming and the dwindling support of live performances in the 21st century.

The flu arrived in New York City on Aug. 11, 1918 aboard the Bergensfjord, a Norwegian vessel that reported 10 people had fallen ill and three people had perished. New York City greeted the boat with ambulances and took a few select patients to the hospital but did not isolate them from the rest of the patients or staff. Approximately 200 other passengers were set free, and the pandemic in Manhattan began. The number of deaths did not decline until early November of that year. New York City had lost around 30,000 lives to the flu. New York’s death rate per 1,000 residents was 4.7 compared to Boston’s – 6.5 and Philadelphia’s -7.3.

Undoubtedly, musicians died, some likely contracted the deadly pandemic by playing in small and crowded places such as Thomas Cloke Liquor, which was located at 326 Spring Street in Manhattan. Thomas Cloke Liquor was a popular pub near the docks that served food and liquor primarily to longshoremen, coastwise workers and drivers who transported goods on and off the piers. It was the perfect place for exchanging germs.

Official statistics on musicians affected by the epidemic are difficult to find, but it is obvious they lost work and did not have technology like Facebook Live as an option to stay in touch with the public. Making things worse, 1919 brought the enactment of the 18th Amendment, also known as Prohibition. The new law ended more performance opportunities than it created. 

In years to come, the phonograph and the radio launched the most financially successful musical careers of all time, but demand was to change. A musician that could play a song precisely had become more useful for recording sessions than a performer that might be all personality but a bit sloppy in their technique.

On March 9th 2020 at 326 Spring Street, the former Thomas Cloke Liquor was bustling with a band scheduled to play on that Monday from midnight to 3am. When the band finished at 3:02am, a few drinkers insisted the band play an encore. It was my band, Jack Grace Band with Dan Green on bass and Diego Voglino on drums. We played that encore, ironically it was a song I wrote entitled, “It Was A Really Bad Year.”

Little of that pub’s basic structure has changed since those 1918 struggles except that is now called The Ear Inn. It has remained open as a pub since 1817, it shall survive yet another pandemic, and will likely endure whatever other turmoil or technology the world has to offer.

The 1918 Flu Pandemic essentially lasted three months in New York. It was the second and deadliest wave. It also arrived when the world thought the worst was over. There was even a third wave that erupted in Australia and made its way back to the US in January of 1919. The end of World War one played a major role in slowing the spread. 

Covid-19 is going to end, but not before most everyone’s patience does. Brilliant music has been created in conditions of significant suffering. I believe live music will return with gusto when we get through all of this. In the meantime, if we had protected musical properties better in the transition to the internet, far fewer musicians would be looking at such financial peril during the current situation as everyone at home enjoys our music on Spotify, YouTube etc. 

We need to enact laws that require musicians and composers to be paid a fair streaming rate. We created laws to protect the movie industry, so we can certainly do the same for the music industry. 

Share:

Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn
On Key

Related Posts

An ode to the bar at the edge of the world, theater review by Oscar Fock

It smells like harbor, I thought as I walked out to the end of the pier to which the barge now known as the Waterfront Museum was docked. Unmistakable were they, even for someone like me maybe particularly for someone like me, who’s always lived far enough from the ocean to never get used to its sensory impressions, but always

Millennial Life Hacking Late Stage Capitalism, by Giovanni M. Ravalli

Back in 2019, before COVID, there was this looming feeling of something impending. Not knowing exactly what it was, only that it was going to impact the economy for better or worse. Erring on the side of caution, I planned for the worst and hoped for the best. My mom had just lost her battle with a rare cancer (metastasized

Brooklyn Bridge Rotary Club returns to it’s roots, by Brian Abate

The first Brooklyn Rotary Club was founded in 1905 and met in Brooklyn Heights. Their successor club, the Brooklyn Bridge Rotary Club, is once again meeting in the Heights in a historic building at 21 Clark Street that first opened in 1928 as the exclusive Leverich Hotel. Rotary is an international organization that brings together persons dedicated to giving back