Blind Skeleton's Three Tune Tuesday

Three Tune Tuesday plays tunes. So why does this week open with a man reciting a poem? Because the best story about a game isn’t always sung. The theme this week is “Games,” and we follow the stakes as they drain right out of one — from everything riding on a single swing, through the swagger of a man who never loses, to an afternoon where the only thing on the line is a bag of peanuts. We open at the ballpark in Mudville, where DeWolf Hopper throws his whole booming theatrical might into Ernest Thayer’s “Casey at the Bat” (Victor, 1909) and the mighty Casey goes down swinging in front of the entire town. Then we take to the road with Kelly Harrell’s “Rovin’ Gambler” (Victor, 1925), the wandering player who wins every hand — and the girl besides. We land back in the bleachers with Harvey Hindermeyer’s “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” (1908), one of the very first recordings ever made of it, where the game costs nothing and everybody goes home happy. Hope, swagger, and Cracker Jack — three spins of the shellac. This week’s theme is inspired by our friends at https://ancient.games.

In this week's episode, Boneapart and Yulia continue their Liberty, Equality, Fraternity series with a look at Fraternité — brotherhood, solidarity, and standing together — themes that feel as urgent today as they did a century ago. We open with a "today in music history" moment: Marcel Journet's rich bass voice bringing the Porter's Song from Flotow's opera Martha to life in a 1905 Victor recording. Then we turn to our theme, starting with a stirring 1922 brass band march simply — and perfectly — titled "Fraternity," performed by the St. Hilda Prize Band, a group of coal miners from South Shields who happened to be among the finest musicians in Britain. We close with "Hold the Fort," recorded in 1914 by the Chautauqua Preachers' Quartette — a gospel hymn born from a Civil War battle cry that found new life as a labor movement anthem. Three songs, three stories, one enduring message: we're stronger together. Pull up a chair, pour yourself something warm, and join us.

On this Imbolc-themed Three Tune Tuesday, Boneapart and Yulia spin three pre-1926 gems: a cheeky hospital flirtation in Billy Murray's "Good-night, Nurse" (1913), the hopeful robin-call of Charlotte Kirwan's "When the Robins Nest Again" (1913), and Irving Berlin's tender confession "Tell Her in the Springtime" (1924). Amid crackly grooves and seasonal candlelight, they explore rebirth, from personal healing to nature's first whispers

1925 was the year that "electric recording", or "orthophonic" records, were designed, greatly enhancing the sound of recorded music. This week Yulia and Boneapart discuss what made electric recording such a game changer and provide examples of just how much of an improvement over previous "acoustic" recording it made.