1 Jazz Me Blues
  Mckenzie & Condon's Chicagoans:
  2 Sugar
  3 China Boy
  4 Nobody's Sweetheart
  5 Liza
  The Chicago Rhythm Kings:
  6 There'll Be Some Changes Made
  7 I've Found A New Baby
  8 Baby, Won't You Please Come Home?
  9 Friars' Point Shuffle
  10 The Darktown Strutters' Ball
  Charles Pierce & His Orchestra:
  11 Bullfrog Blues
  12 I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate
  13 Nobody's Sweetheart
  Miff Mole & His Molers:
  14 One Step To Heaven (Windy City Stomp)
  15 Shim-Me-Sha-Wabble
  Eddie Condon & His Quartet:
  16 Oh, Baby!
  17 Indiana
  The Dorsey Brothers & Their Orchestra:
  18 'Round Evening
  The Big Aces:
  19 Cherry
  Wingy Manone & His Club Royale Orchestra:
  20 Trying To Stop My Crying
  21 Isn't There A Little Love?
  Ted Lewis & His Band:
  22 Wabash Blues
  Elmer Schoebel & His Friars Society Orchestra:
  23 Copenhagen
  24 Prince Of Wails
  The Cellar Boys:
  25 Barrelhouse Stomp
  26 Wailing Blues
Frank Teschemacher & His Chicagoans
 
           Frank Teschemacher (1906-1932) was a grievous casualty, an astonishing 
            individualist, and a cranky stylist, who died in a car crash before 
            he was 26. His hero was Bix Beiderbecke, who had only recently predeceased 
            the Kansas City native, and Tesch's principal beneficiary, in one 
            sense, was the equally ruggedly individualistic Pee Wee Russell, though 
            his influence on Benny Goodman is also strong and acknowledged.
           Obviously, there's a `catch him while you can' quality to his recorded 
            life. It starts in this Retrospective single disc back in 1928 with 
            the track that gives the album its title, Jazz Me Blues, 
            and gives us a template for white Chicago jazz, albeit with a two 
            man front line of alto and clarinet, which was a clear reference to 
            what Jimmy Noone and Doc Poston were doing on the (black) South Side 
            of the city. I should add that Mezz Mezzrow was also on clarinet, 
            but fortunately we don't hear much of him. It's actually quite a hesitant 
            number and I don't rate it highly, even if the alto was the fine Rod 
            Cless.
           There then follow four total classics, recorded the previous year, 
            and played by McKenzie and Condon's Chicagoans, that all lovers of 
            such things will know by heart. How amazing for me to remember that 
            one of the musicians in that band, Jimmy McPartland, once put his 
            big paw on my shoulder at the 100 Club in London and said to me, kindly, 
            as he passed; `Scuse me, son'. He then sat on the chair Bix had used 
            back in Whiteman days and blew the place down.
           One should always note the sheer angularity of Tesch's playing, 
            its Cubist lines to the fore, and the hot company he kept - all the 
            very best of his confreres, which meant Muggsy Spanier, Joe Sullivan, 
            Eddie Condon, Red Nichols and Gene Krupa and all the gang. There's 
            a modern sounding riff on Bullfrog Blues where Tesch's clarinet 
            edges towards Johnny Dodds, himself active in the city at the time.
           Not everything works, despite the tight company. The Dorsey Brothers 
            band and The Big Aces are both disappointing, the latter especially 
            as it included Jack Teagarden and Don Redman, but the results are 
            souped up dance band music. Ted Lewis's ghastly Wabash Blues 
            is still puke-making. Also Dick Feige was no Spanier and not all the 
            Charles Pierce tracks are especially good. Indeed Miff Mole's band 
            rather sweeps them away, both musically and in terms of recording 
            quality - hardly a fair comparison, of course, as Mole was an elite 
            player and his companions included Nichols, Sullivan, Condon and Krupa. 
            And more kudos comes via The Cellar Boys, where Wingy Manone blows 
            a superb cornet, Charles Melrose plays a mean accordion, and tenor 
            player Bud Freeman proves that he was ahead of the game back in 1930.
           So, some rather up and down sessions here. But that's what happens 
            when your recording career lasts barely two and a bit years. Inevitably 
            there will be dullish or eccentric sessions to be balanced by some 
            of the hottest, most driving Chicagoan jazz this side of Heaven.
           Transfers are good. The personnel listings are generally accurate 
            but I noted a few misattributions and mistakes.
          
  Jonathan Woolf
          See also review by Tony 
            Augarde