Marty Bloom could certainly feel proud of his accomplishments and credits as a songwriter. It is possible that some individuals indirectly think of Bloom each morning when they rise, especially if they have the habit of checking for last night's chewing gum on their bedposts. Yet his name comes up just as often in American music history as a big shot at the music publishing and artist management offices. He briefly managed two of the most brilliant, famous, and reportedly difficult artists in the history of classic jazz, Fats Waller and Jelly Roll Morton, but had the foresight to come up with even more helpful arrangements for them than he could provide. His direct involvement in the music business shouldn't negate his musical talents, as there is a rightful tendency to be suspicious of old-school music business types whose names appear on songwriting credits. Quite often, these credits and the ensuing royalties were simply usurped by the business guys; but this is not the case with Bloom, who was hands on with records being cut as both a co-writer and an actual participant in the sounds. In the latter case, what he did was quite unique, most often credited as "sound effects" or "effects." These included the use of various whistles and kazoos and something identified with the abbreviation "kl" in esoteric foreign discographies.

Bloom's real name was M.L. Blumenthal, and his involvement with music publishing stretches back prior to the '20s. In 1918, he formed the Melrose Brothers Music Company with the two oldest brothers from this publishing dynasty, Walter Melrose and Lester Melrose. Lines of demarcation were much more fuzzy in the music business back then, so the company's involvement with recording and publishing Jelly Roll Morton also included quite a bit of personal management, apparently Bloom's department. Historians at the Decca/MGM/MCA conglomerate recall that it was Bloom that brought Morton there for his historic recordings. Bloom's suggestion that the label sign Morton up in 1927 was partially motivated by his desire to unload the managerial responsibility on someone else, but also made great musical sense. And Bloom remained involved on the next page as a member of Morton's Red Hot Peppers, taking part in many of the recording sessions and adding his special touches.

In the early '30s Bloom briefly took over managing Fats Waller, a connection made through a fellow music publisher and A&R man. He quickly found regular gigs for Waller, but found dealing with this artist's personality nerve wracking. Bloom passed the managerial bouquet over to Phil Ponce, and it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to Waller. Bloom simply found songwriting a more satisfying endeavor than management. Walter Melrose was one of his best collaborators, often resulting in splendid ballads such as Melancholy or Reverie, each as haunting as its simple title. Bloom's most well-known song by far, however, is the somewhat gross musical question Does the Spearmint Lose Its Flavor on the Bedpost Overnight?, a collaboration with singer Billy Rose and songwriter Ernest Brever. It was a hit in 1924 for the tenor and baritone vocal team of Ernest Hare and Billy Jones. With the title changed to Does the Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor on the Bedpost Overnight, it once again was on the charts in the early '60s, this time for the British skiffle-meister Lonnie Donegan. Will Melrose, Grant Rymal, and Bloom adopted Willie the Weeper from a folk song, while titles such as Millenberg Joys and Cannonball Blues also have strong traditional blues and old-time music aspects. It is only appropriate that this material has been recycled by bluegrass groups such as the Dillards. ~ Eugene Chadbourne, Rovi