In a Norfolk, Virginia living room in 1919, baritone Delroy Hollins drilled bass singer Len Williams, tenor Otto Tuston, and James "Buddy" Butts into shape for the vaudeville circuit, launching a group that would spend two decades living a double life. By day the Norfolk Jazz Quartet cut blues and scat numbers for the OKeh label, touring with singer Mamie Smith's variety show in 1922, the same summer Butts was fatally stabbed by a jilted girlfriend. Recording sacred material as the Norfolk Jubilee Quartet, the same four voices produced some of the era's finest a cappella gospel sides, Williams's bass driving each arrangement with jazz-inflected scat. The music database AllMusic calls them the most influential jubilee group Tidewater Virginia produced before the younger vocal group Golden Gate Quartet eclipsed them — proof that sacred and secular could share one throat.
Norfolk's very identity as a "jubilee" act reaches back to Fisk University's 1870s traveling choir, which set the template every later group like theirs copied: a cappella close-harmony spirituals sung by young Black singers raising money for their school. A Carnegie Hall history of the genre credits Fisk's touring quartet as the tradition's starting point. One song makes the thread concrete: "Get On Board, Little Children," a spiritual "first published in 1872 as one of the songs of the Fisk Jubilee Singers," per the folk-song archive Ballad of America — the very title Norfolk chose, half a century later, for one of its best-known recordings.
listen forNo recording preserves Fisk's original touring choir singing this piece — it survives only in songbooks and in the jubilee-quartet recordings it inspired, like Norfolk's. What's audible is the shape the printed spiritual dictates: on "Get On Board, Little Children," listen for the title line tossed out by one voice and answered by the rest, the call-and-response chorus ("get on board... there's room for many a-more") that gave the jubilee form its churchly urgency and let it travel from a campus fundraising tour into a commercial recording booth fifty years on.
AllMusic's biography says bass singer Len Williams "anchored each song with scat-like rhythmic patterns in the bass clef which were strongly influenced by the jazz music of the day" — and the clearest proof of which jazz sits on the group's very first OKeh session, March 1921: a vocal-quartet arrangement of "Jelly Roll Blues." Jelly Roll Morton's own tune, published as sheet music around 1915, was still three years from Morton's first studio recording of it, a solo piano session in Richmond, Indiana, on June 9, 1924, when four Virginia vaudevillians beat him to a record.
listen forMorton's 1924 solo-piano recording rides on the syncopated "breaks and riffs" he built his reputation on, ragtime's stiffness loosened into something that swings. Norfolk's 1921 version, cut with no instruments at all, carries that same rhythmic snap in voices alone: listen for the bass line's clipped, syncopated patter under the melody, doing with a mouth what Morton's left hand does on piano — evidence the group's harmony singing was already absorbing jazz phrasing before Morton had committed a note of his own tune to record.