Big small bands sound

Just like video killed the radio star, as the popular song goes, the juke box sounded the death knell of the bands that for a long time were one of the magnets pulling servicemen to Strait Street, in Valletta, or The Gut, as the British troops had...

Just like video killed the radio star, as the popular song goes, the juke box sounded the death knell of the bands that for a long time were one of the magnets pulling servicemen to Strait Street, in Valletta, or The Gut, as the British troops had christened it.

It was a time when classic dance music, such as the tango, cha cha and rumba and, later on, rock and roll were the rage.

Always eager to prove themselves, Maltese musicians adopted the styles of American and British bands that were then topping the charts, delighting the clientele in bars and music halls down The Gut.

Strait Street was also the haunt where young Maltese men used to hang out particularly on Saturday nights.

In this final piece of a three-part series, GEORGE CINI talks to Joe Curmi, il-Pusè, and to Salvu Camilleri of Eddie's Bar.

Never a dull moment

Musician Joe il-Pusè Curmi, 77, believes Strait Street was "the college where one learnt the finer points of music".

"Unless you played in Strait Street, you were not recognised as having made the grade. There was never a dull moment for me. We played seven nights a week without any days off," he recalled.

Mr Curmi started out during World War II when he was 13 years old, first playing drums and later taking up the alto saxophone. His father, Ganni, ran several bars, including Jazz Variety, Follies Bergere, the restaurant The British Crown and the QE - standing for Queen Elizabeth.

Mr Curmi, whose mentor was that grand old man of Maltese musicians, the late Paul Arnaud, came from a family of 13 siblings most of whom were musicians and he got his early induction to music at home - his brother Pawlu, il-Pampalun, a drummer who nowadays is closely associated with carnival companies.

His other brothers, Karmenu and Censu, were violinists, Manuel played the accordion and Johnny the piano.

At that young age, still wearing short trousers that were the vogue at that time, Mr Curmi used to play only for an hour. During the war, Strait Street did not sleep.

The music then was swing and boogie-woogie and the repertoire included internationally recognised numbers from the likes of such greats as Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, Harry James, Duke Ellington, Count Basie and Arty Shaw.

"These were the giants of the music scene in America and unless you listened to them you could not improve your style.

"I have records from that epoch that I still listen to and learn from such musicians as the tenor saxophonists Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young. All the musicians used to imitate the style of these two great artistes. Among American servicemen, who were conscripts, one occasionally came in contact with top-notch musicians.

Bob Mayor, a third alto sax with Arty Shaw one day called at the QE in Strait Street but did not tell anyone who he was.

"Saxophone players then in Malta were few and far between and after about five days he invited me to his aircraft carrier and I had the chance to listen to the ship's band rehearsing.

"Bob taught me how to breathe from the diaphragm and not from the chest and so play the sax much better.

"When accordionist and band leader Tito Burns came over to Malta to entertain the services, together with other musicians I got to know his saxophonist, Rex Morris.

"The other musicians included Oscar and Charles Lucas, Joe Carr, Frans Camilleri, il-Bibi and George Borg, all of whom were seasoned musicians but we all learnt from these British and American musicians.

"Bobby tal-pjani used to be a real crowd-puller who had the stamina and charisma to keep people spellbound for an hour at a time.

"You could hear a pin drop during his show and if a waiter as much as clinked a bottle, he would draw the wrath of the clientele."

Servicemen used to spend loads of money and once they went broke they would sell the things they bought, including clothes and shoes, for a pittance.

Musicians used to get about £3 a week but the barmaids used to go round the hall every 15 - 20 minutes asking patrons to tip the music men who used to end up with about £13 a week.

"The income that waiters managed to get was much better than that of musicians. In fact, when I realised that waiters got about £6 a day, I donned an apron but my father was furious because he feared I would get involved in fights.

"If I had saved the money I earned I would have enough to go round the world more than once; we earned loads of money.

"I never felt there was any stigma attached to those who worked in Strait Street."

In 1952, when the late Lord Louis Mountbatten, commander of the Mediterranean Fleet, visited Malta, Mr Curmi joined the Royal Navy by becoming a member of the Admiralty Band. Joseph Sammut and his assistant Karmenu Abela were recruiting musicians for the band. He joined after attending an audition and remained on for 16 years until the run-down of the British Services on the island.

Mr Curmi then joined the Manoel Theatre Orchestra until he retired in 1988.

Close encounters of the cheating kind

Salvu Camilleri of Eddie's Bar, in Valletta, who was about 10 years old in the early 1950s, said Strait Street held a special fascination for boys his age who used to traipse along the narrow route early in the morning before going to school, as well as after school at il-Baviera.

The boys used to gape at scantily attired females, at gays, in those days a gay was known as sinjorina, and also catch gossip about the fights and the fracas of the night before.

"A number of the girls were introduced to work in the bars by their own mothers.

"Most of the bars used to have a cellar behind the bar so that girls aged between 12 - 18 years would hide if the bar was raided by the CID. The bar owners had enough time to hide the girls because they used to be tipped off about imminent raids. Once a couple of girls nearly suffocated because of the long time they were kept in this hole in the ground."

There were a number of decorous women, particularly young widows, who used to work in bars merely keeping company to sailors and other servicemen.

"White Star Bar, for example, employed widows who were not paid a wage but were able to collect a number of laned (tokens) and once the bar closed they made their way home - all hush hush, of course, because of the stigma that used to stick to any women who earned a living in Strait Street."

With the arrival of the American fleet the landa was priced at one dollar but certain barmaids abused the system by telling the barman to charge a sailor for, say, the equivalent of $10, $20 and at times $100 in tokens. This often led to a number of arguments and if the sailor insisted on getting his money back, he would unceremoniously be thrown out of the bar. Such arguments often escalated into massive fights.

"Valletta went dead in the evening with the demise of Strait Street. On Saturday, a lot of Maltese men-there was a dearth of entertainment facilities on the island - used to go down to The Gut especially to music halls like Follies Bergere, Moulin Rouge, Windsor, Bull and Bush, Garden of Eden, Bing Crosby and Rexford that used to have a heavy regular Maltese clientele.

"Just like young men today go to Paceville on Saturday, young men then used to go to Follies for example, buy a girl a drink to get them a landa - the price of a drink was a flat rate of £1 and one shilling - and dance with the girl.

"But as soon as the British sailors came in, the Maltese would be sidetracked because their spending budget was tight. Perhaps, the most popular woman in Strait Street was Zeza l-Monki who, in spite of her lack of beauty attributes, was a jovial character with a great sense of humour who used to pull in men by the dozen.

Among the more popular foreign entertainers were two black people, one known as Guze and the other as Molly is-Sewda, who was a Blues and Gospel singer.

One of the most renowned prostitutes was Rita l-Ungeriza, a refugee who learnt to speak Maltese and spent the rest of her life here.

There were certain bars which were known for prostitutes, some of whom used to fool would-be clients. Paying beforehand, a man used to be told to meet a prostitute at, say, number seven, St Dominic Street only to find when he got there that the address was a private residence.

A popular figure in Strait Street was Cikku of Chicko's restaurant, perhaps Valletta's most patronised eating place. During most of the evening, the restaurant did only lean trade but once the bars closed at 1 a.m. Chicko's would be swarming with people until 4 a.m. A steak cost three shillings and sixpence; steak and eggs five shillings and timpana nine pence. It had a Greek waiter called Antoine.

Next to Eddie's used to stand a tenement run by a sought-after prostitute called Tessie who employed five other women. Tessie used to employ a guy who used to run errands for her and buy take-away food for the women.

The raging activity in Strait Street spilled into Republic Street, then known as Strada Rjali, where other bars mushroomed, including Capitol Bar, Omega, Queen's, Farlex and Opera Bar, among others.

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