Lost Sounds: Blacks and the Birth of the Recording Industry, 1890-1919

9 Cousins and DeMoss

148 lost sounds ences never let him break completely free of black stereotypes, he bore no anger. “I have no grievance whatsoever against the world or the people in it,” he once said. “I’m having a grand time.”87 A thwarted genius? Williams himself never expressed it that way. He was not a firebrand, but a quiet, persistent man who worked within the system. He was grateful for what he had been able to achieve against towering odds, and for the doors he had been able to open for so many who followed him. Most blacks and unbiased whites of the day apparently felt the same way. Perhaps we should as well. 9 Cousins and DeMoss The recordings by Cousins and DeMoss represent a bit of a mystery. They appear to give us a glimpse inside the world of black vaudeville in the late 1890s, but we must say “appear to” because the identities of the two artists have not been conclusively proven. There are no first names on the label, and no catalog listing or advertising has been found. However, it is almost certain that these were Sam Cousins and Ed DeMoss, two experienced if somewhat minor black entertainers who were active on the vaudeville and minstrel stage at the turn of the century. Sam Cousins and Ed DeMoss both performed frequently in the New York area, although they did not normally appear as a duet. Cousins, the better known of the two, was a comedian and monologuist with a long list of credits. During the 1898– 99 season he was with producer John W. Isham’s popular touring show The Octoroons, in one- and two-act comedy sketches including “Darktown Aristocracy” and “A Tenderloin Coon.” Audiences loved his songs and topical humor. Following a November appearance one reviewer commented that “Sam Cossins [sic] keeps them roaring with his monologue, and some parodies he has written on late popular hits.” Another, following an engagement in Canada in February, remarked that “Mr. Sam Cousins, monologue artist and comedian, never fails to please the audience with his funny sayings and parodies which are up to date.”1 Life on the road was grueling, but also brought good times and camaraderie. A February column in the Freeman reported that Cousins and other members of the Octoroons cast had attended a reception in London, Ontario, where they smoked expensive cigars and posed for a “flash light picture.” In March Cousins took out an advertisement in the Freeman, in which he listed his specialties and current engagement and noted that he was currently singing Cole and Johnson’s “I Wonder What Is That Coon’s Game?” The ad included a photograph of Cousins, who appeared to be in his twenties.2 Tenor Ed DeMoss was best known for his years with the Standard Quartette (q.v.), of South before the War fame, in the early 1890s. He was familiar with recording from his experiences with that group, which had made numerous cylinders for the New York and Ohio Phonograph companies, and for Columbia. After leaving the quartet around 1895 he became a solo performer, based in New York. A Decem02 .73-152_Broo 12/17/03, 1:45 PM 148 149 Cousins and DeMoss ber 1898 item referred to him as a “popular vocalist” who had just returned from a four-week engagement outside New York.3 The two known recordings by Cousins and DeMoss were made for Berliner in New York, most likely during the summer of 1898.4 That the duo recorded at all seems to have been an accident of time and place. Both were frequently in the city, and they may have even performed together occasionally. The Berliner Gramophone Company, struggling to establish disc records in an industry heavily dominated by cylinders, was busy in the late 1890s trying to build up its catalog. Many varied artists were invited into its recording laboratories in New York and Washington , and the company seems to have been open to experimentation in order to add some distinctiveness to its listings. It recorded choruses, Broadway actresses, famous orators, and an operatic tenor, as well as the usual run of studio regulars familiar to cylinder buyers—mostly obscure baritones and tenors and brass bands. It was also open to black artists, recording George W. Johnson and black basso Thomas Craig. Two titles have been documented by Cousins and DeMoss, both numbered in Berliner’s 3000 series, which was reserved for “duets.” Both are fascinating recordings...