I have to admit that I asked Tony to choose “melancholy” for our Word of the Week because while we were watching an old film noir called “Johnny Eager” recently, I heard a very old tune in the soundtrack, a much-loved and oft-performed song called “My Melancholy Baby.” The melody has been haunting me all week, and haunting is the right word, because it is quite a melancholy tune. In fact, “Melancholy” was the name that a vaudeville composer, Ernie Burnett, first gave his song. Make no mistake: Burnett’s song was a fully realized composition, not just a simple melody in need of an arranger to flesh it out. He had been classically trained on the piano from childhood, and it showed.
In 1884, Ernesto Mario Bernadetti was born to Italian immigrant parents in Cincinnati, Ohio. Aware that his son had musical talent and hoping that he would become a concert pianist, Ernest’s father sent his teenage son to a music conservatory in Austria and later in Italy. But when his father died in 1901, Ernest had to give up his studies and return home. He needed to earn an income and immediately found work — as a pianist and entertainer in vaudeville. 1n 1909, at age 25, while “on the tour” and snowed in at a train station in Denver, he composed the song which would be his biggest hit, though its popularity came about so gradually and under such odd circumstances as to rob him of the glory of that early accomplishment.
Ernie’s wife, Maybelle, wrote the lyrics for “Melancholy,” and the two applied for copyright late in 1911. Having tried unsuccessfully for some time to find a publisher for their song — and these were the days, as I mentioned last week, when sheet music sales still reigned supreme in the popular music world; composers had to literally take their work to publishers in person and demonstrate the music, as well — the two finally found a house to bring out sheet music for their song in 1912. But the deal came with strings attached: the publisher insisted that a lyricist from his own company rewrite the lyrics. And so to get their song published, Ernie and Maybelle had to agree to “transfer” rights to the lyrics to the publisher. In lieu of royalties, Maybelle received a “dedication” on the sheet music. And by this time the couple had divorced, as well. All that would make me rather melancholy. How about you? The official credit for the lyrics went to George Norton, staff writer for the publisher Theron Bennett. But how much Norton himself received in royalties for this song is not clear; likely only his regular salary, with the lyricist’s share going to the publisher. Maybelle Watson brought a suit against the Theron Bennett in 1941 — after 30 years — and was awarded 50% royalties for all sales of the song. What a business!
I said that the popularity of “My Melancholy Baby” happened over time. Well, there is a truly amazing story attached to the song. When the United States entered the first world war, Ernest Burnett was called up. Like other men of his age, he was sent “over there.” But while serving in France, his unit was gassed, in the “new” kind of chemical warfare. While he survived, he developed (I know, it sounds far-fetched) amnesia, and he would suffer the remainder of his life with respiratory disease. He had lost his dog tags, and no one knew who he was, including Ernie himself. He languished in the hospital until one day an entertainer came through to perform for the soldiers. “My Melancholy Baby” had become a world-wide hit while the war escalated, and the visitor sang it. Upon hearing the song, Ernest sat up in his bed and shouted, “That’s my song! I wrote it!” After that he made a full recovery of his memory, including all of his musical knowledge. And when he returned home to the US, he continued writing music and performing in vaudeville. In time he started his own orchestra and founded his own music publishing business. I’ve included a charming little clip from The Ed Sullivan Show in 1959, where Ed introduces Ernie Burnett as someone “everyone knows,” and he plays his most famous song on the piano, with plenty of flourishes. This was likely his last public appearance, because he died later that year. What a fitting tribute to a composer and performer at the end of a long career.
I’ve said before that I struggle to find just the right musical recordings for Sometimes a Song, and this time is no different. Popular music of the early 1900’s was a mix of old-style parlor music, Vaudeville, Ragtime and Jazz. And the recordings of “My Melancholy Baby” made over the years ran the gamut of musical genres. The song was recorded by absolutely everybody. One thing is certain: the song had staying power, and it was in the air on radio, on television, in films, and it was sung by entertainers during the entire century, and continues to have appeal at least to certain sorts of American song enthusiasts even now. In addition to being the unofficial theme song of “Johnny Eager,” which I mentioned above, the song was featured by Judy Garland in “A Star is Born,” and then it showed up in “Birth of the Blues,” “Scarlet Street,” and a handful of other movies, and finally the tune was the theme song for Marilyn Monroe’s character in “Some Like It Hot.”
I’ll end with this: William Frawley, who DID have a major hit in his Vaudeville days with the song “Carolina in the Morning” (which I wrote about here) claimed also to have been the first to perform “Melancholy" (as it was then known) at a Vaudeville club in Denver, Colorado in 1912. We have no reason to disbelieve this claim, especially because Frawley was a famous Vaudeville performer in those days; but the very publisher who did so poorly by the three people who actually wrote “My Melancholy Baby” likewise claimed that he had premiered the song, at that same club, in 1912. Who are you going to believe?
I looked in vain to find what I know exists: a much later video of Frawley singing the song on a 1957 episode of the Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour, but that is not available. So for today I settled on FOUR versions of the song — and many of you may have other favorites. First, I present the silky voice of Bing Crosby, whose 1938 recording of “My Melancholy Baby” reached number 14 on the charts. He sings it as a jazzy ballad. After that I’ve attached a swing version of the song, recorded by the Glenn Miller Orchestra in 1941, featuring Glenn’s fabulous saxophone/singer, Tex Beneke. After that, I’ve added the sweet and nostalgic appearance of Ernie Burnett on the Ed Sullivan Show. And finally, I’ve included a link to a piano-only performance by Liberace from a 1956 LP called “Liberace at Home.” The recording quality of that clip is not ideal, and unlike the music Liberace performed in his massively popular television show from the 1950’s, this recording has no orchestral accompaniment at all. It’s just piano, just Liberace, and just wonderful.
I hope you all enjoy this sweetly melancholy old American song!
Another interesting compare/contrast might be Marlene Dietrich doing "Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuss" and ten years later or so "Falling in Love Again."
Another great article, and song! Thank you for these! I look forward to them each Saturday. This week I was reflecting on my tendency to nostalgia for the old times, and old things, like records and turntables. And then it occurred to me that only in this modern age would we all be able to sit here together—in all our various locations, with our coffee—-and hear four different versions of a great song from times before we were born! Technology has some amazing gifts for us.