My Thoughts on Harry Reser

I’ll be honest here: I do not claim to be an “expert” on Harry Reser—or any other famous banjoist for that matter. I am not a “fanboy,” so wrapped up in minute detail that I can’t see or think clearly. As a certified non-expert, all I can offer is my opinion, and commentary/speculation based on the little written information there is about him (which is about all anyone can do today) and the occasional odd anecdote from someone who actually knew him. I am just a guy who is smitten with his unique music and thinks he deserves more attention in the four-string banjo world (knowing it’s probably too late to get him any attention anywhere else).

I am not a biographer, or a researcher, or a discographer, or an instrument historian; I know nothing about that esoteric stuff. All I know is that I like what I hear. What do I hear? I hear wonderful, complex music, well beyond what is normally associated with the banjo; I hear big-city sophistication that shows off his Classical training; I hear dazzling technique and utter musicality; I hear music, as opposed to entertainment; I hear a seriousness—even amongst all the cornball stuff that he recorded during the Jazz Age—that has probably kept him from being remembered as the true “Banjo King.”

Most importantly for the purposes of this essay, I hear the plectrum banjo on the majority of his recordings. I didn’t always hear it: I must admit that I paid little attention to his music (being a snobbish plectrum specialist and therefore not interested in the tenor) until this fact was brought to my attention by Juergen Kulus. A little attentive listening, and lo and behold, Juergen is right! Just as there are some recordings that are obviously tenor, there are just as many or more that are obviously plectrum. And with the growing access to Harry’s lesser-known pop-tune and band recordings (thanks to the internet), the percentage of obvious plectrum recordings has skyrocketed. Through this process, I have grown to love all of his music, regardless of instrument.

You may ask, why do I believe this? Simple: I am a musician, and I have a great ear; I can hear the difference between the two tunings! No matter how hard you try, they just do not sound the same. This is entirely a matter of chord voicings (how the chord tones are stacked), and some characteristic single-string things that he did on tenor (and didn’t do on plectrum). It is fair to say that there are a few recordings where it is genuinely hard to tell which instrument it is on—which I’ll get to in a moment.

There are many possible reasons why it is assumed that everything he did was on tenor. Here is where I go straight into opinion and far-reaching speculation (he’s no longer with us, so how can I ask him?), so beware; I don’t mean to offend anyone or their own assumptions/“expertise.” I welcome comments to the contrary.

First off is that Harry is the biggest “hero” for tenor players (just as Peabody is for the plectrum): thankfully, I have noticed a slackening of the plectrum vs. tenor argument over the years as the old guard passes on. This is a silly old argument that should probably be put to rest. The four-string banjo as a whole is an endangered species; it would behoove all of us to put aside our snobbish preferences. For example: as you may know, I’m not a fan of the “Chicago” tuning (for purely academic reasons), but I have swallowed my snobbish pride and recognize that a four-string with ANY tuning is still a four-string (and of course, “a banjo is a banjo”). Enough said.

Next, he was a famously business-savvy musician. Though he predated Eddie Peabody by a few years, I think he saw the writing on the wall. Peabody hit the scene in a big way and quickly cornered the plectrum market out of sheer flashy popularity. It was in Harry’s best financial interest to concentrate on the tenor market. It is very interesting that the majority of his early promo pictures—as a soloist and as a band leader—were taken with the plectrum banjo (while his two most-famous and still-popular recordings were on tenor).

It should be pointed out that music publishers/publicists/etc. were and are quite aggressive: they may have had a lot to do with the tenor specialization. Did they deny (or care) that Harry also played plectrum? I think it is quite plausible that these money men had no idea there were two kinds of banjo! Just as “tenor banjo” is the mainstream description today for a banjo with only four strings; it is typically only us four-stringers who know there are two types.

Probably the biggest reason for the tenor assumption though is simply the number of notes he plays on both of them. If Peabody-inspired chord melody is your only benchmark for plectrum technique, then it may be hard to believe anyone could play that many notes on it. This is not meant to take anything away from the great Eddie Peabody (another hero of mine)! They are simply different music styles and skillsets. All it takes is a broadening of listening horizons (and again a softening of prejudices) to include both styles as equally-important parts of that benchmark. Developing the skillset for both is the ultimate goal.

I recognize that most folks choose which tuning/style to concentrate on based on the kind of sound they prefer. I played tenor first but was more attracted to the close-harmony of plectrum chord melody—so I switched. It was only later in life that I discovered I have the physical ability and an affinity to play “lots of notes,” and started trying to apply it to the plectrum. So, learning about Harry Reser’s plectrum skills was a revelation to me; it showed me that “yes, it can be done, and has been done.”

Speaking of listening, here is the best way to get on board with this idea: listen to a lot of recordings, knowing (or at least trusting/not doubting) that it is plectrum. Let’s start with the obvious tenor recordings (there’s no mistaking them!): Crackerjack, Lollipops (his two most-famous recordings), Trainin’ the Fingers, Heebie Jeebies, Page Paderewski, Symphonola, Flapperette, and Fair and Warmer. Get used to the flashy single-note runs, his extensive use of the pentatonic scale (which is easier on the tenor), and bright, open sound.

Now listen to Easy Goin’, Pickins’, Cat and Dog, Frosted Chocolate, Crazy ‘Jo, Kitten on The Keys, and Clock and The Banjo. If you can find them (hint: YouTube), listen also to Collette, Ukulele Lady, An Island for Two, Tamiami Trail, Sugar Blues, When The Robert E. Lee Comes To Town, and Calling. Plus, look up his one known video, a movie short from 1937 featuring Tiger Rag. The video offers the added benefit of actually seeing him play a plectrum banjo.

Once you’ve gotten used to the close-harmony chord voicings on these recordings, next listen to any number of his band recordings. In most of them, he only takes an 8-bar solo, but the majority of them have that distinctive full-bodied plectrum sound (you’ll know the tenor when you hear it!). Just for fun, listen to his 1934 recording of Santa Claus is Coming to Town (the song’s debut!) and the flip-side Jingle Bells. Yes, that’s plectrum!

As I said, some are hard to tell the difference: Pickins’ and Clock and The Banjo are two great examples. In one of the Pickins’ recordings (there are two) he plays two distinct minor 2nds at transition points. A minor 2^nd is nearly impossible to play on the tenor due to its tuning in 5ths, especially at the speed he does it. On Clock, his flashy single-note runs sound like tenor, but the majority of the piece is nothing but arpeggiated chords, which are clearly plectrum tuning (the close harmony is unmistakable). It would take major finger gymnastics to play those chord voicings on tenor.

I have in my possession the book The Great Harry Reser by William Triggs (Juergen had warned me about him!). In the book, Mr. Triggs states with great expert authority that Harry’s recordings were all done on tenor; moreover, he rues the “fact” that he didn’t make any plectrum recordings, so we would know what he sounded like on it! He also wrote a book (plus lots of magazine articles) of transcriptions, which are supposedly made by listening to the recording and writing it down. Well, all I can say is that he didn’t have a very good ear! This is a big reason I do not claim to be an “expert”; here is one of the world’s foremost “authorities,” and look where that got him!

Why does this matter? I know it all may seem like minutia, or just splitting hairs, so what’s the big deal? Well, thank you for asking!

#1, I take the banjo very seriously. I think it deserves the close look that I offer here. If the Jazz Age, four-string banjo is ever to recover ANY of its former glory, it must be taken seriously—as seriously as it was back in the day; it is a real musical instrument, capable of real music using real music theory concepts. That was the whole driving premise behind the creation of my alter ego, The Banjo Snob.

#2, I think it is important to distinguish between the tenor and plectrum banjos—not for the cliquish favoritism mentioned above, but for the purposes of playing-potential (what can be done) and the unique and special personality differences between the two. On the surface you could just shrug your shoulders and say, “I don’t know, it just sounds like a banjo to me” (think of your frustration when speaking with an outsider about the difference between four and five strings!). But knowing the difference is a powerful thing; in short, being able to tell by listening requires musical ear training, which will quite simply make you a better musician. Recognizing the differences/strengths/weaknesses means we can take advantage of them.

As an avid banjo player, teacher, and advocate, it is natural for me to think that the shrinking four-string banjo world can only benefit from better, more-informed banjo player/musicians.