The Man I Love
1928Sung by Layton and Johnstone
intro
Flipping the Script
To understand oopsie gaysies in the context of their time, we must consider how the music industry worked just over a century ago.
In the 1920s and 1930s, songwriting was big business and vocalists were the stars that shaped how the melodies would be heard. Numerous songs that are nowadays regarded as jazz standards, compositions that are considered ‘standard’ in a musician’s repertoire, were composed in these decades. They were also big hits of their day, with recording companies capitalising by making multiple versions of all the most fashionable tunes.
Singers could create their own signature interpretations, with many vocalists choosing to perform the lyrics exactly as written. In doing so, many opened up the door for queer interpretations, oopsie gaysies that flip the script on what one might expect from an old-fashioned love song.
Layton and Johnstone (c. 1933)
Many of the most famous songs of the 1920s and 1930s were recorded by artists of any gender.
One of the most recognisable songs of the era is the 1924 song ‘The Man I Love’. Listen below to a performance by American-born duettists Layton and Johnstone in 1928, when the song was taking the United Kingdom (their adopted country) by storm. Layton joins in about halfway through the recording, adding to the homoromantic atmosphere.
Press play to listen along:
LYRICS
When the mellow moon begins to beam
Every night I dream a little dream
And of course Prince Charming is the theme, the “he” for me
Although I realize as well as you
It is seldom that a dream comes true
To me its clear
That he’ll appear
Someday he'll come along
The man I love
And he'll be big and strong
The man I love
And when he comes my way
I'll do my best to make him stay
He'll look at me and smile
I'll understand
And in a little while
He'll take my hand
And though it seems absurd
I know we both won't say a word
Maybe I shall meet him someday
Maybe Monday, maybe not
Still I'm sure to meet him one day
Maybe Tuesday will be my good news day
He'll build a little home
Just meant for two
From which I'll never roam
Who would, would you
And so, all else above
I'm waiting for the man I love
The title and lyrics undoubtedly reveal that the object of affection is a “big and strong” man. Though it may sound bold for men to confess their desire for a ‘Prince Charming’ it was not considered an expression of queer longing at the time. They were singing a song originally written for the theatre by the Gershwin brothers, perhaps most famous for their numerous successful Broadway compositions. An enduring jazz standard with multiple oopsie gaysie versions, their interpretation is an archetypal example of cross vocals; the song was originally written for a female character to sing, yet many later male vocalists left the original gendered words unchanged.
With commercial pushes across industries and mediums, songs of romantic yearning became the new standard.
Early jazz and popular music recordings in our collection can be found on both sides of Atlantic, yet much of the highly commercialised English-language entertainment world was based in New York City, the land of Broadway revues and Tin Pan Alley. This music publishing hub was where writers, including a significant number of Jewish and Black composers and lyricists, created song after song. From ragtime numbers, to curious novelty tunes, to sentimental songs about home, the aim was to create works that would sell.
Often, they did. Innovations in microphone and recording technology, as well as the surge in demand for home radios during the 1920s and 1930s, meant that music publishers had many ways beyond only the theatre to promote their creations. In what historian Katherine Spring names a ‘three-pronged promotion’, studios found that producing sheet music, phonograph records, and encouraging on-air radio performances of new compositions could turn their songs into hot commodities.
A sign of the more outwardly socially adventurous times of the ‘roaring twenties’, works themed around sensual romantic attraction sold particularly well. Many vocalists sang the same compositions in their own styles, often irrespective of their gender, leading to the possibilities for the sound of same-sex love stories to be recorded.
The Brox Sisters tuning a radio
(c. 1925)
"Red Hot Mamma" (1924)
Sheet Music
This would not have been unusual at the time, and likely was not considered odd. Consider the vocal trio the Brox Sisters, who also performed musical numbers on Broadway. They sang multiple songs about women in unison, including ones as brazenly filed with desire as the oopsie gaysie “Red Hot Mamma”.
“Red hot mamma, red hot mamma, you’re the one I need”
Press play to listen along:
LYRICS
I’ve got a girl, a wonderful girl,
She’s the sweetest one in town.
You can search for miles around,
But no one can be found like this one.
She has a smile that will open your eyes
With a certain little way.
And every time that I get near her,
I look at her and say.
Red hot mamma, red hot mamma,
You’re the one I need.
Red hot mamma, you’re some charmer,
Yes, indeed.[...]
Publishers found much commercial success with jazz-influenced songs such as the one above and, although all sorts of topics were on the table, songs about desire started to be dominant in popular music. This is a legacy that still lasts today.
With the transition from silent films to talking pictures in the late 1920s, movies became a key avenue for songs to reach more listeners than ever before.
Many of these love songs were intrinsically tied to scripts, and characters in the movies them selves. In the UK, Gracie Fields was one of the country’s leading music hall performers and recording artists. She is perhaps most remembered for her early comedy films and a tune that was featured in her 1931 hit Sally in Our Alley. Playing the titular character, Fields also sings the song during the movie that is dedicated to her.
“Sally, Sally, Marry me Sally and happy forever I'll be”
Grace Fields (1937)
Sally, Sally
Don't ever wander
Away from the alley and me
Sally, Sally
Marry me Sally
And happy forever I'll be
When skies are blue
You're beguiling
And when they're grey
You're still smiling, smiling
Sally, Sally
Pride of our alley
You're more than
The whole world to me [...]
Press play to listen along:
Although women singing songs about women was common at the time, Fields’ 1960 autobiography offers a rare glimpse into her perspective on the songs gender implications. She recalls how, when a music publisher presented her with his work, she shooed him away, remarking that “Sally” was a song for a man. The result when the tune made it into the film, was one of the UK's most enduring and recognisable oopsie gaysies.
Some performers found creative ways to tweak the lyrics of sought-after tunes as they recorded their own versions, adjusting words to avoid singing
same-sex connotations, to varying levels of success.
Take the example of the song “No One Loves Me Like That Dallas Man” from the 1933 scandalous (and well-attended) movie I’m No Angel starring Mae West. The title and lyrics clearly lay out that the narrator’s object of desire is a male “wild horse traine” from Texas, a heterosexual love interest when sung by West.
Don Redman (1933)
Movie Still from I Heard
“Kisses sweet as honey;
smiles that make life sunny,
Let me introduce that Dallas man”
smiles that make life sunny,
Let me introduce that Dallas man”
“Kisses sweet like honey;
smiles that make life sunny,
No one loves me like that Dallas man”
smiles that make life sunny,
No one loves me like that Dallas man”
Cary Grand and Mae West in I'm No Angel (1933)
Lobby Card
Press play to listen along:
For many years, the music industry’s drive to turn songs into successes meant that vocalists of any gender could become part of their cross-medium promotion. Though Redman’s version still fits into the definition of an oopsie gaysie (a man singing about another man’s “sweet kisses” still sounds somewhat queer after all) it is a clear example of how artists’ changed words in an attempt to “straighten” lyrics, a relatively common practice.
Oh kisses sweet as honey,
Smiles that make life sunny,
Let me introduce that Dallas man
Oh he’s a highfaluter
Rootin’ tootin’ shooter
Let me introduce that Dallas man
Oh brother,
Girls all go insaner
when they’re in his arms
He’s a wild horse trainer,
Full of wild and woolly charms
Like a Texas ranger,
He’s a welcome stranger,
Let me introduce that Dallas man
Though many singers performed songs exactly as written, others substituted unavoidably gendered words and more clearly sidestepped creating oopsie gaysie versions. “Man” became “gal” or “she” switched to “he” as applicable, resulting in a straight-sounding perspective. In any case, the song’s instantly recognisable titles usually remained unchanged, promoting the composition with audiences, turning songs into commercial successes, and making money for the artists as well as the music publishers behind the scenes.
The world of 1920s and 1930s popular song was full of songs of love and lust; from those created for the stage to those that helped make stars on the silver screen, it doesn’t take long to find an oopsie gaysie among them.
Listen to more recordings made for theatre or film below, or continue to the next exhibit to learn how the most prevalent song structure of the 1920s and 1930s brought the gender of the narrator to the forefront or each tune.