Origin Story · Volume 4 · RHYTHM & BLUESIntroduction
The Abandoned Market
In 1945, the American record industry was four companies, and all four had spent the war learning to live without Black customers.
That is a blunt way to put it, so here is the mechanism. RCA Victor, Columbia, Decca and the newcomer Capitol pressed records out of shellac, a resin scraped from trees in India and Southeast Asia, and from early 1942 the war cut the supply to a fraction of what the industry wanted. A company that could press only so many discs pressed the ones with the largest and safest market, which meant mainstream pop for white audiences. The specialist catalogues (the ones the trade called race records, meaning Black music for Black listeners, and hillbilly, meaning white rural music) were trimmed first and hardest. At the same time the musicians’ union called its members out of every recording studio in the country for more than two years in a dispute over royalties, and the draft and the petrol ration were dismantling the touring big bands town by town. By the end of the war the majors had lost the habit of the Black market, lost the staff who knew it, and largely lost interest in reacquiring either.
What the majors had not noticed, or had noticed and dismissed, was that the market they were abandoning had just become richer than it had ever been. Between 1940 and 1945 well over a million Black Southerners moved north and west to war work (to the shipyards of Oakland and Long Beach, the aircraft plants of Los Angeles, the foundries of Chicago, Detroit and Gary) and they were earning industrial wages, in cash, in cities full of taverns, and every tavern had a jukebox. The demand did not shrink in the war. Only the supply did.
This book is about the people who walked into that gap. Almost none of them were musicians. They were a nightclub owner in Chicago, a record-shop owner in Cincinnati with a bad temper and his own pressing plant, a radio-parts dealer in Newark, two young men in New York spending a dentist’s ten thousand dollars, a Houston club owner with a booking agency, four brothers in Los Angeles, and an eighteen-year-old in New Orleans wiring a studio into the back room of his family’s appliance shop. Between roughly 1945 and 1950 they built, from nothing, a second American record industry, one that found its customers through jukeboxes and late-night radio rather than through network shows and department stores, and that could make money on sales the majors considered beneath noticing.
The introduction runs on for another 7 paragraphs, and then the book starts. 25 chapters · about 120 pages · $14.99
