Victor Silvester - Career in Music

Career in Music

The lack of what he felt were adequate records for dancing led Silvester in 1935 to form his own five-piece band, later enlarged and named Victor Silvester and his Ballroom Orchestra, whose first record, "You're Dancing on My Heart" (by Al Bryan and George M. Meyer), sold 17,000 copies and was to become his signature tune. He insisted his recordings conform precisely to the beats per minute recommended by the ISTD for ballroom dances, a concept termed "strict tempo". In British eyes he became indelibly associated with the catch-phrase "slow, slow, quick-quick-slow" – a rhythm that occurs in the foxtrot and quickstep.

The Silvester band always had a distinctive sound, achieved by an unusual line-up including, as well as the usual rhythm section, alto saxophone (initially Charlie Spinelli and later, for 26 years, Edward Owen "Poggy" Pogson, who had previously played in Jack Payne's and Jack Hylton's bands), a lead solo violin (for many years usually Oscar Grasso), and not one but two pianos, one taking turn in solos and the other maintaining an improvised tinkling continuo in the background throughout every piece, which Silvester called his "lemonade".

He notes in his autobiography that his first two pianists in 1935 were Gerry Moore for the melody and Felix King for the "lemonade". Later pianists included, at different times, Monia Liter, Charlie Pude, Jack Phillips, Billy Munn, Victor Parker (also accordion), Ernest "Slim" Wilson (who was also Silvester's main arranger, and with whom he co-wrote several pieces), Eddie Macauley and Ronnie Taylor. Silvester's drummer for over four decades was Ben Edwards, crucial for supplying the strict tempo. Sometimes there might be four saxophones altogether, two alto and two tenor, including in latter years Tony Mozr, Percy Waterhouse and Phil Kirby in addition to Pogson, all doubling on clarinet as required. On some recordings, the Ballroom Orchestra was augmented with 15 strings and woodwind, when it became "The Silver Strings". During the war, when Oscar Grasso was in the forces, the classical violinist Alfredo Campoli took his place, using the name "Alfred Campbell" for contractual reasons.

These were first-class players, some of whom (like Liter, Grasso and Pogson) were already noted in jazz or danceband circles before they joined Silvester's band. Unlike most British dance bands of the era, there were no vocals. Silvester usually did not play (he was a violinist), but stood in front of his orchestra in white tie and tails, conducting with a flourish. Though popular with dancers, the orchestra was criticised by the dance band discographer Brian Rust, who said:

"Victor Silvester... there was nothing whatever in the thin treatment of the melody... to appeal to those who looked beyond the simple requirements of a steady dance tempo... are of purely utilitarian appeal and nothing more".

He would continue to make music for half a century, mostly covering the popular music standards and show tunes, sometimes (but rarely) swing, trad jazz, and in latter years, especially from 1971 when the orchestra continued under his son Victor Silvester Jr, rock and roll, disco and pop. These later attempts to stay "with it" involved the introduction of an electric guitar, but it is mostly the more melodic recordings of the 1940s and 1950s that are now reissued on CD and still sold widely.

Read more about this topic:  Victor Silvester

Famous quotes containing the words career and/or music:

    From a hasty glance through the various tests I figure it out that I would be classified in Group B, indicating “Low Average Ability,” reserved usually for those just learning to speak the English Language and preparing for a career of holding a spike while another man hits it.
    Robert Benchley (1889–1945)

    I fear I agree with your friend in not liking all sermons. Some of them, one has to confess, are rubbish: but then I release my attention from the preacher, and go ahead in any line of thought he may have started: and his after-eloquence acts as a kind of accompaniment—like music while one is reading poetry, which often, to me, adds to the effect.
    Lewis Carroll [Charles Lutwidge Dodgson] (1832–1898)