The Truth About Ming & Ling

Ming & Ling in the early 1940s

Let the following be a lesson that all "truth" is provisional — especially here on this blog!

A couple of months ago I posted two songs allegedly recorded by vaudeville duo Ming and Ling. Ever since Nick Tosches added a chapter about them in the revised edition of his book Unsung Heroes of Rock 'n' Roll (1991), these "Chinese Hillbillies" became something of a cult item among rock music aficionados. And their legendarily obscure singles — "records so strange that they defy description" — took on a decidedly Holy Grail sheen.

Although Tosches acknowledges in his book that there may have been more than one Ming and Ling — and that the duo who recorded these wild rock-and-roll songs might not be the vaudeville duo who performed throughout the forties and fifties — his enthusiasm is so contagious that you want to believe they are one and the same.

Well, it turns out that this is not the case. I was recently contacted by Ling's son-in-law John Buckley, who set the record straight about Ming & Ling.

The duo only performed live and never made any recordings. Contrary to the story they gave the press, they are not cousins but in fact father and son. Ling's real name is Gregory Paguio, and he is not Chinese but half-Filipino and half-Irish. His father Ming's real name is Jose T. Paguio. Jose had played in vaudeville for many years before asking Gregory, who was just 17 at the time, to join him on the stage in 1940.

The two performed as Ming & Ling for more than twenty years until Jose's retirement in 1962, after which Gregory led an Oriental revue produced by former Forbidden City dancer Dorothy Toy. For the next five years Gregory toured the West Coast and Asia before retiring in 1967. I'm guessing that's him in the ad, surrounded by a bevy of Oriental dolls and looking very James Bond! Here's what one reviewer had to say about the show: "Toy, Ling and Oriental Revue at Three Rivers Inn shouldn't be missed by any who appreciates lively, daring, beautiful girls, Hawaiian songs and dances, Geisha Girl Shows, and fabulous costumes. M.C. Bob Ling surprises the audience with his delightful impersonations of Perry Como [and] Dean Martin" (The Syracuse Post-Standard, September 30, 1966).

Well, it's good to finally know the truth about Ming & Ling's alleged recordings. Although this may technically disqualify them from being "Unsung Heroes of Rock 'n' Roll", they remain one of the most fascinating acts from the twilight years of vaudeville. Now, if we can only get our hands on their 1949 appearance on the "The Milton Berle Show"!

Many thanks to John Buckley for contacting me and generously providing the photos of Ming & Ling. If you are interested in learning more, feel free to email him (buckley1969@gmail.com).

Finally, let me give a shout out to John's son Brian Buckley, who is himself an up-and-coming singer-songwriter, and to "Ling", who is still with us today.


Remembering the good old days: Jose and Gregory Paguio

Ming and Ling: Zipper Head Boogie

NOTE: According to the family of Ming and Ling, the songs featured below were NOT recorded by them. See this post for more information.

Several weeks ago I wrote about Ming and Ling, the proto–rock 'n' roll vaudeville duo who performed during the 1940s and 50s. Well, one of my readers, Peter (who has a wonderful blog showcasing his cassette collection of Thai folk pop), kindly posted the link to an archived edition of WFMU's The Hound radio show from June 29, 1991, that featured two of Ming and Ling's rare recordings (probably from early 1950s). Now, at last, we can finally hear why Nick Tosches included these "Chinese Hillbillies" in his book Unsung Heroes of Rock 'n' Roll.

Here they are, folks... the incomparable Ming and Ling!


"Zipper Head Boogie" by Ming and Ling


"Chopsticks" by Ming and Ling

The songs reveal not only the duo's energy and talent but also their slightly twisted sense of humor, one which undoubtedly helped them navigate the awkward place of being an Asian American in America. ("Zipper Head" was a derogatory term for Asians during the Korean War; and "Chopsticks", besides being that utensil which many Americans still struggle with, is also, of course, that old chestnut familiar to anyone who's ever taken piano lessons.)

I also recently found these two short reviews from Billboard magazine that give a pretty good idea of what Ming and Ling's early acts were like.

Outstander is Ming and Ling, two Chinese lads tagged as “Two Hillbillies From the Burma Road.” Wearing mandarin jackets, one plays the accordion and the other sings—but it’s the kind of music and singing least expected. Their opening Chinese lullaby is a scat song. The accordionist surprises with masterful squeezings for the 12th Street Rag, and singer strikes another stance for My Wild Irish Rose. For the finish he joins in with a mouth organ and even sings and yodels to give an authentic Western tang to Red River Valley. Do I Am an American on the recall. Both boys bubble with personality. A cinch for any nitery floor.

—Billboard, April 11, 1942

Evidently, Ming and Ling also performed for a couple of years as a trio with Miss Hoo Shee, a singer and dancer who was billed in the late 40s as "The Oriental Mistress of Charm and Swing".

Oddly enough the act the customers gave the biggest mitt to were the Chinese trio, Ming, Ling and Hoo Shee. Two guys (accordion and guitar) and a girl, dressed in native costume, open slowly, while the gal gives out with a poor Rocking Horse Ran Away. Having gotten this throwaway out its system, group gets down to work. First is a very funny hillbilly number, beautifully underacted. Accordionist, a pint-sized guy, puts the mob in stitches with his toothy grin and bits of business. Segue into a Loch Lomond number pressing down on the Scottish burr. A battle of crooners routine gave the guitarist, a tall lanky guy, a shot at the spot and he really socked. A capable pair of pipes helped him a lot. Team got together for an Ink Spot routine, also sock, and tried to walk off. Big applause brought ‘em back for a comedy juggling bit but act finally had to beg off.

—Billboard, December 16, 1944

It's great to finally hear Ming and Ling and learn a little more about them, but I'm still hungry for more. If you have any leads, let me know!

Ming and Ling: Ding-Dong Daddies

I was recently searching the Web for information about Forbidden City dancer Jadin Wong when I learned about the intriguing Chinese American vaudeville duo Ming and Ling in Nick Tosches' Unsung Heroes of Rock 'n' Roll: The Birth of Rock in the Wild Years before Elvis. From the early 1940s to the early 60s, these "Chinese Hillbillies" bowled over audiences with their humorous renditions of Irish tunes and Polish polkas and imitations of Perry Como, Bing Crosby, and Frank Sinatra. According to newspapers of the time, Ming and Ling were a "must-see" hit wherever they played, whether at New York City's China Doll nightclub, Midwest county fairs, or the Sky Room at the Mapes Hotel in Reno, Nevada. The duo even performed on national television — on "The Milton Berle Show" in 1949 and "The NBC Comedy Hour" in 1956.

Even more intriguing are some obscure records attributed to Ming and Ling: a wild version of "Milkcow Blues Boogie" released in 1950 that, according to Nick Tosches, makes Elvis Presley's recording four years later pale by comparison; and a wailing rockabilly tune from 1949 called "Eggroll Eatin' Mama"! Since I've not personally heard these songs and can't find any information about them besides Tosches' book, I'm afraid I must leave the musical legacy of Ming and Ling shrouded in mystery. But one thing is certain: the history of Chinese American vaudeville is a veritable "Land of the Lost" just waiting to be rediscovered.

NOTE: According to the family of Ming and Ling, the songs featured below were NOT recorded by them. See this post for more information.

HILLBILLY HARMONY—Ming (left) and Ling give out with their Yangtze yodel. These comical Chinese boys are laying New Yorkers in the aisles.

Ming and Ling, Ding-Dong Daddies,

Burlesque With Chinese Accent
By Ray Peacock

NEW YORK (AP)—What China needs in this country is more guys like Ming and Ling.

They're a pair of Chinese hillbillies who are downright funny, and in their New York debut make you wonder where they've been all this time.

Their act is a satire on all Chinese sing-song acts that have gone before them. Just when you least expect it, they burst out with a dash of the Deep South or Scotland or Erin Go Bragh. Remember their name which will be easy to do, because they're going to be around.

Use Real Names
Actually they are cousins, and the euphonious names are not phony. Ming is the little guy, a wizened five feet two, and he was born in Shanghai 38 years ago. His full name is Ming Jue, or, as he has restyled it, Joe Ming.

Ling, who is Robert Ling, was born in Jersey City, of all places. His folks had a curio shop. He's five feet eleven, and 21. The two point to themselves and their stature as perfect examples of contrasting diets in China and America. Bob has tried five times to enlist in the army, but has been rejected each time because of a heart murmur.

Their act is only three years old, but Joe Ming has been around a lot longer than that. He lived for a while in Manila, his father being an exporter and importer, and after returning to Shanghai decided he wanted an American education. So at 18 he entered Valparaiso University. But show business was in his veins, and after two years of studying civil engineering he quit school.

For the next 15 years or so, Joe played the piano in a Hawaiian band, did a solo piano act, and literally was kicked around from coast to coast.

When the cousins finally met, Bob had done some singing for the fun of it in schools and before clubs, and was running errands on the side.

Opening in Boston
"Joe started to coach me," Bob explains. "The stuff we were doing seemed foolish to me, but Joe said it was right. He can't sing himself, but he can teach singing. And then we opened in Boston, and worked around the Midwest until our agent, Al Grossman, got us a New York booking at the Belmont Plaza Glass Hat. It looks like our luck has changed."

The only complaint with their act is that it's too short. Bob wears a Mandarin coat, one which signifies he is a gentleman. Joe is dressed as a coolie. They switch corny hats with abandon. Bob sings in an excellent baritone, and Joe plays the accordion and sings squeaky songs.

"We kid the whole works," they explain. "It's laundry shop humor."

Catholics both, Joe and Bob are thoroughly Americanized. Yet they feel a strong tie to the old country, and have given countless benefits for China Relief.

"It's a funny thing," says Bob, "but in some new records we got from China, we noticed a new rhythm that Chinese music never had before. You watch China. It's going to come of this war a greater and better nation."

—Charleston Daily Mail, May 2, 1943