As we swing out the year today, it's time for another installment of Mindblowers. For those new to JazzWax, at the end of each quarter I provide a roundup of my favorite quotes from interviews I conducted with legends over the past three months. For the other 11 volumes in this quarterly series dating back to 2007, scroll down the right-hand side to "Mindblowers," where you'll find links to each one. For my full interviews, scroll down to "JazzWax Interviews." Happy New Year!
Trumpeter Clark Terry on the first time he recorded on flugelhorn in November 1957. "The horn came in a box to my hotel in Chicago. I was in Duke’s band at the time and we had a day off, so I was recording with Billy Taylor [Taylor Made Jazz]. When the package arrived at the hotel, my roommate thought it was something I would want right away. So he came down to the place where we were recording and brought it into the studio. When I opened the package, the horn looked great. It was a beautiful, gold-plated instrument. I tried it right there on the spot and loved it so much I decided to use it on the date."
Clark Terry on Miles Davis. "When he was a kid, Miles followed us around East St. Louis a lot. He had a lot of respect for me and for Dizzy [Gillespie]. Miles wouldn’t change anything he was doing unless 'Clark or Dizzy told me to' [laughs]."
Saxophonist Hal McKusick on Clark Terry. "As a player, Clark doesn't move much. Like Billie Holiday, Clark doesn't have to gyrate to get the sound he wants or to swing and express himself. It all comes out of his horn."
Dionne Warwick on English pop singers who rerecorded her Burt Bacharach hits. "Lifting what I was doing was the way of the world over there. I guess they all hoped it would be their ticket to hitting it big in the States. Interpretations are one thing. Copying a version closely, with my phrasing and delivery, is a challenge."
Dionne Warwick on Bacharach's songs. "They were all difficult, musically. Burt’s complex melodies and shifting time signatures within the song were tough. You had to be able to read music to keep up."
Drummer Louis Hayes on playing with Horace Silver in the late '50s. "No sheet music. I learned the music in my head. I knew how the tune went, every inch of it. Only then can you create. I have the ability to listen and know instinctively what to play. I’ve had drummers ask me, 'How did you play The Outlaw?' See, to me, it was just a thing. I had a format in my head and had worked it out. You have to know songs cold so you can make something out of them and do things that aren’t there."
Louis Hayes on the Horace Silver Quintet. "I didn’t really try to accompany anyone. They have to follow me. You have two choices on any tune. You can accompany whoever is soloing or you can take charge and have them feed off of what you’re doing."
Rock 'n' roll legend Fats Domino while signing autographs for dozens of grade-school children in New Orleans. "You gotta make kids happy."
Author Will Friedwald on shifting tastes in pop music in the early 1960s. "After the Beatles and Bob Dylan, the idea of singing a song that you didn't write yourself seemed hopelessly bourgeois, passé and 'establishment.' Yet from that moment on, with the strong exception of a few upper-bracket types such as Dylan, Lennon and McCartney, pop music was both compromised and downsized."
Producer Phil Ramone on The Girl From Ipanema in 1963, on which he was the engineer. "Quincy Jones wanted Sarah Vaughan to record the song, so Creed Taylor decided to make a demo of it in English. Astrud Gilberto, who had come to the date with her then husband, guitarist Joao Gilberto, volunteered, saying she could sing in English. Astrud went into the studio and did it. But when Sarah heard the demo, she decided at first not to record it. The Girl From Ipanema sat on a shelf on Sarah’s end waiting for her decision. Many months later, Creed finally released the single, with Stan Getz’s Blowin’ in the Wind on the B side. It was a charming little recording. When the single became a hit, it drove the Getz/Gilberto album and took the bossa nova to a new level in the U.S."
Phil Ramone on what he did to get the drums on Dionne Warwick's Burt Bacharach hits to sound clear but hushed. "I’ll tell you what I did differently there. I put the drums on a two-foot riser and stuffed fiberglass under the riser. The drums were alive above the two-foot area, but you didn’t get bottom-heavy reverberation. When the musicians on the sessions played in the room, they could see and feel the drums everywhere but the drums never drowned them out."
Phil Ramone on the big English beat of the mid-'60s. "I remember going into studios in London and seeing groups like the Rolling Stones and the Animals. I remember seeing Keith Moon, The Who’s drummer [pictured]. When I heard him, I said, 'There’s a drum sound we had better look out for.' Back in the State, I’d tell people, 'Are you aware of the sound coming out of England? It’s way beyond just the Beatles.' "
Documentarian Albert Maysles on filming Gimme Shelter in 1969. "My brother David and I didn't view ourselves as flies on the wall—to fade back and just take it all in. There's no poetry in transparency. We wanted the Stones and others to know we were there, and for them to wrestle with that mild tension."
Albert Maysles on Michael Wadleigh's film Woodstock. "My brother David and I walked out of the film. Too many [talking-heads] interviews. It felt staged and the interviews disrupted the natural course of events happening in the film."
Pianist Dave Brubeck on Take Five, credited to bandmate Paul Desmond. "Actually, the song was a collaboration. I had asked Paul to improvise a melody with a 5/4 tempo, but he couldn't come up with anything. Instead, he had two themes, and I found that by putting them together and repeating the first theme, we could form a song."
Arranger Don Sebesky on recording Wes Montgomery for A&M Records in the '60s. "Wes couldn't read music. The whole point of my approach to record Wes and the rhythm section first and then arrange the orchestra was to give Wes free reign and then capture the rise and fall of his emotional content with the orchestra. When one of the guys in the rhythm section would create something inventive, I had a reference, a catalyst that I could use to bounce off of for the orchestral arrangement."
Don Sebesky on the one time he played with pianist Bill Evans. "We played on a jingle together for an Esso TV ad, before the oil company became known as Exxon. Bill Russo wrote the arrangement and Bill played piano. It was in ‘60 or ‘61."
Don Sebesky on jazz-rock fusion, a movement he embraced. "Looking back, I think many jazz musicians lost track of their roots. The rock-pop trend was a wave that swept through the jazz world. It was an experiment. The bossa nova was probably the demarcation line—where jazz-pop ended and jazz-rock began—since the Brazilian form was so musical."
Jazz critic Nat Hentoff on the late pianist Billy Taylor. "He wasn't a pyrotechnician, but he was always telling his story on the keyboard and finding new ways to be himself."
World musician David Amram, 80, on his tireless schedule and whether he ever gets to rest. "Everyone asks me that. Here's what I tell them: 'Yeah, most of the time. I took a nap in 1957 and it gave me a headache [laughs].' "
Billy Taylor, a pianist mentored by Art Tatum who could play any jazz style flawlessly and whose graceful keyboard choices were matched only by his ability to communicate the joys of jazz on TV and radio, and in books and classrooms, died in New York on December 28 of a heart attack. He was 89. [Photo by Hank O'Neal]
A jazz giant who eschewed alcohol and drugs, Billy defied the jazz-musician stereotypes found in pulp fiction and film of the 1950s. He was gregarious and courtly, well-spoken and approachable—and oddly devoid of the simmering anger, anti-social behavior, bad habits and hipster persona that made the jazz life at once alluring and dangerous.
In many ways, Billy didn't need the cartoonish trappings that sprang up around jazz starting in the late '40s. A highly trained musician, Billy's benevolent personality made his piano playing look easy—a powerful trait that encouraged those who held golden opportunities to share them with him.
Easy-going and industrious, Billy started his career by accompanying the best jazz artists in New York in the mid-'40s. All saw enormous promise in Billy, and all took him under their wing—buffering him from the legions of nocturnal hangers-on, Runyonesque exploiters and chiseling club owners who peppered the New York jazz scene.
One suspects that many of these seasoned jazz artists saw something of themselves in Billy and went out of their way to keep him from becoming just another flash in the jazz pan. Given the lengths to which these jazz artists went, Billy was viewed by older musicians as jazz's best shot for proving that the music was fine art and not merely background for club conversations.
Billy's talent and sunny disposition often landed him prized spots on stage and in recording studios in the '40s. He also was Birdland's house pianist in the early '50s, where he accompanied virtually every jazz legend who played there—except pianists, of course.
Billy's recording career began in 1944 with violinist Eddie South, and his first leadership date for Savoy came a year later with Al Hall on bass and Jimmy Crawford on drums. The four tracks recorded that day in March 1945 were Mad Monk, Solace, Night and Day and Alexander's Ragtime Band.
The dexterity exhibited on those recordings helped Billy land a plum spot in a 1945 concert at New York's Town Hall that was recorded by Commodore Records. Sessions with major jazz artists followed, and Billy joined Don Redman's band in 1946, becoming one of the first jazz musicians to tour Europe just after World War II.
Upon his return in 1947, Billy formed a quartet that included bassist John Levy, John Collins on guitar and Denzil Best on drums.
I spoke with John Levy [pictured] yesterday about Billy and this group:
"I don’t recall how or when I met Billy. We were all friends, playing gigs together on 52nd Street. We both had accompanied jazz violinists a few years earlier—Billy with Eddie South, and me with Stuff Smith. Denzil and I had worked together with pianists Lannie Scott and Jimmy Jones. And John Collins already was an established guitarist. We were a tight rhythm section—exactly the type that clubs would want to hire.
"We all assumed from the start that we’d be heading out on the road to tour. But it didn’t work out that way. Everyone in the group was moving in different directions at once. Later in '47 I recorded with Lennie Tristano and Billy Bauer. Then Denzil and I went with Billie Holiday in 1948.
"Even back in ‘47, Billy was well respected by everyone. He was a great player from the start, and his educational passion was already showing. He would research everything—who wrote the songs, who had recorded them, how they recorded them and so on.
“Billy was naïve—in a good way. He was an innocent and the classiest musician around. He was strictly educational. He didn’t hang out, and he didn’t hit on women or any of that stuff. He married Teddi and that was it. Everyone loved him.”
Between 1947 and 1950, Taylor performed and recorded with a wide range of leading artists, including Charlie Parker, who requested Billy for his August 1950 concert with strings at the Apollo Theater.
In 1952, Billy formed a working trio with bassist Earl May and drummer Charlie Smith—perhaps his greatest group. During this period, Billy was one of the first trio leaders to integrate Latin jazz into his groups. In 1954, the Billy Taylor Trio recorded with conga player Candido Camero for Prestige.
I spoke with Candido yesterday:
"Billy was a genius, a very nice gentleman and humble. There are not enough words to describe how good he was in every way. Not many people know he played with Machito and His Afro-Cubans in 1946 while Machito was waiting for Rene Hernandez to come to New York from Cuba. Billy had learned the Latin feel early by associating with a lot of Latin musicians and by going to hear Latin music in clubs. He was always good to me. I will miss him." [Pictured: Candido, Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker in 1950]
Billy's TV appearances as an "explainer" of jazz's special qualities and importance began in the late 1950s and continued throughout his career. He was the musical director of the David Frost Show in the late '60s and early '70s, and his jazz segments for Charles Kuralt's Sunday Morning on CBS, in which he profiled jazz greats, were always intimate and authoritative. In this regard, Billy probably did more to introduce jazz to new audiences than anyone else before or since.
Last year, after I interviewed Billy, I visited him at his apartment with filmmaker Bret Primack. During our time there, I had a chance to tell Billy that he was responsible for my own interest in jazz. Back in 1968, Billy had visited my junior high school in upper Manhattan with bassist Ben Tucker and drummer Grady Tate. After they performed I Wish I Knew How It Felt to Be Free in the school's auditorium, 45-rpms of the song were handed out to each student. I went home and played the record endlessly, or at least until I heard Young Holt Unlimited's Soulful Strut a year later.
Touched by my comment, Billy went into a closet in his music studio and emerged with a book he had written. It was Jazz Piano: A Jazz History. He opened the flap and wrote something inside and handed it to me, saying "And I mean it." Later, I had a chance to read the inscription: "Dear Marc, Keep on keeping on!!"
While I was writing this post yesterday, Nat Hentoff called and the subject was Billy:
"I think Billy was greatly underappreciated as a jazz pianist," Nat said. "He was always surprising himself. He wasn't a pyrotechnician, but he was always telling his story on the keyboard and finding new ways to be himself."
Those who have had the good fortune to spend time with Billy will not easily forget his wide smile, oversized glasses and melifluous voice. His contributions to jazz are matched only by his vast contribution to jazz appreciation. Billy spread the gospel—gently.
JazzWax notes: You can read my five-part JazzWax interview with Billy Taylor here.
My interviews with John Levy, Candido Camero and Nat Hentoff are here, here and here.
Also, see Will Friedwald's tribute to Billy Taylor in today's Wall Street Journalhere. Billy Taylor's site is here, featuring dozens and dozens of videos.
JazzWax tracks: If you are unfamiliar with Billy Taylor and want a handful of recordings by the pianist, here's my list of five favorites (the first one is a must if you don't own it already):
JazzWax clips:Here's Billy Taylor and Candido Camero playing Mambo Inn...
Yes, Billy was an educator and all that. But you don't sit down at a piano with these guys unless you have enormous confidence that you can bring your game. Remember, that's Duke Ellington and Willie "the Lion" Smith:
Don't feel bad if the name Gene Estes doesn't ring a bell. Most jazz listeners aren't familiar with him. Though Estes started his recording career in the mid-'50s bands of Harry James, Billy May, Shorty Rogers and Henry Mancini, he also was an in-demand studio percussionist who wound up on studio recordings by the Monkees (Theme), Beach Boys (Pet Sounds), Frank Zappa (Lumpy Gravy) and many other rock groups of the '60s and '70s. But as Estes' 1976 album Westful: Jazz in Hollywood shows, the West Coaster never lost his taste for large ensemble swing bands and straight-ahead arranging.
Yesterday I spoke with alto saxophonist Med Flory, who played on Westful:
"Gee, I don't recall that recording specifically but I do remember that Gene was an excellent guy. He wrote East Coast, don't you think? Man, he could write and arrange. He reminded me of Bobby Brookmeyer in that regard—swinging, harmonic and upbeat. Gene had it going. A sweet guy. We hung out together a lot. [Photo of Med Flory by Mark Sheldon]
"Gene worked often in the studios playing all kinds of percussion instruments. Hey, there's a lot of stuff in that trap case [laughs]. By the '60s, many rock and jazz sessions wanted more texture and there was plenty of work out here to keep you busy. After Gene formed this rehearsal big band in the early '70s, we played a few gigs at the Three Rings out in the San Fernando Valley on Ventura Blvd. As a personality, Gene didn’t leap out and push himself on you, but he was solid on drums and vibes, and, man, he had it going. Whenever his arrangements were done, we’d all get together and play them. The best part is Gene's charts were always easy to play and always sounded great. They weren’t skull-busters. And man they could swing." [Pictured: Gene Estes, center on vibes, with the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson, right, in 1967]
Swing, indeed. Then again, the band on Westful: Jazz in Hollywood may have had something to do with it: Ollie Mitchell, Ralph Osborn and Conte Candoli (trumpets); Bob Enevoldsen [pictured] (valve-trombone); Herbie Harper (trombone); Dick Leith (bass-trombone) Med Flory and Meyer Hirsch (alto sax), Tom Scott and Jay Migliori (tenor saxes); Bill Hood (baritone sax and bass-clarinet); Joyce Collins (piano); Alan Estes (vibes); Jim Hughart (bass) and Gene Estes (drums, vibes).
Every track here hydroplanes with finger-snapping energy, except for the last one, of course—the ballad Goodbye. But rather than give you a detailed rundown, here are the album's liner notes written by Estes...
"Two years of beautiful loyalty. Guys coming to Sunday rehearsals after their Saturday gigs. So few charts in the early days. I write slow. Copy slower. But it isn't the scratching that makes the sound. It's the players—catching bad notes, setting phrasings. Charts I didn't even like. They made me like 'em—the soloists:
"Herbie Harper on Sharly My Boy and All About Henry. Bob Hardaway on Sharly, Pot Luck and D.A.V. Conte Candoli on everything. Jay Migliori on All About Henry and Besame Mucho. Med Flory on Pot Luck. My brother Alan on Poca Nada. Bob Enevoldsen on Poca and Lump. Meyer Hirsch on Lump. Joyce Collins on Big "P." Tom Scott on Besame. Herbie and Eno together on Goodbye.
"During the years we've had many different good players and always a good band. This is the best. The right combination of good playing, interest and enthusiasm. Pulling together. It isn't even like trying to prove anything with writing or playing. It's just a matter of having a ball. I think the band has ended up being that kind of band. Just having fun."
Sharly My Boy, All About Henry, Poca Nada, D.A.V. and Sweet Lump were written by Estes. Big "P" is by Jimmy Heath and Pot Luck by Johnny Mandel. Besame Mucho was by Consuelo Velázque and Goodbye was by Gordon Jenkins. All of the arrangements on the album were by Estes.
This is an insider's recording. Appearing on the small Nocturne label out of Hollywood, few know about this date or even remember it. What Med recalled most about Estes, however, was his upbeat spirit and drive. And on this album, it shows. Estes died at age 64 in 1996.
JazzWax tracks: Gene Estes' Westful: Jazz in Hollywood (Nocturne) unfortunately isn't available on CD. However, I notice that eBay has a few copies on LP, and the album may be available at download sites.
In the mid-'60s, Bud Shank recorded a string of albums in Los Angeles for World Pacific Jazz that were West Coast attempts to capitalize on rock, pop and the new movie music. These recordings included Michelle, A Spoonful of Jazz, California Dreamin', Light My Fire, Music from Today's Movies, Magical Mystery and Let It Be. One of the most glorious efforts in this groovy genre was Bud's Windmills of Your Mind (1969).
What I love about Bud on these recordings is that he wasn't turning on or selling out. Instead, his hard sound and all-out blowing on alto sax and flute gave the music a speeding-MG, mid-life crisis sophistication. On Windmills of Your Mind, he fed Michel Legrand's jazz-based pop melodies through the Bud Shank jazz grinder, resisting the temptation to convert the film tunes into adult contemporary fare.
Windmills of Your Mind was arranged by Legrand [pictured] and covered all of the composer's hot material at the time. Which meant three movies—The Thomas Crown Affair, Umbrellas of Cherbourg and The Young Girls of Rochefort. If you're unfamiliar with any of these movies, all are available at Netflix and are must-sees for jazz fans.
Windmills of Your Mind was recorded in Los Angeles and featured Gary Barone, Bud Brisbois and Conte Candoli [pictured] (trumpets); Billy Byers (trombone); Bud Shank (alto sax and flute); Ernie Watts (tenor sax); Michel Legrand (piano and harpsichord); Artie Kane (organ); Howard Roberts (guitar); Ray Brown (bass); Shelly Manne (drums) and five strings.
Every track is a French twist on the swinging '60s, with superb arranging by Legrand and crisp playing by Bud and the orchestra. The album opens with the Thomas Crown Affair's title song, which is given a paisley feel with Legrand's harpsichord and strings. Watch What Happens from Umbrellas follows, using a fabulous merging of alto, tenor, trumpet and piano. Legrand here plays tag with Bud on the improvised sections, adding to the track's dynamism.
The cat-like Theme D'Elise from Umbrellas offers plenty of punch, and Bud both echoes the arrangement and takes a graffiti can to it on the improvised passages. One Day, which Legrand wrote with Alan and Marilyn Bergman in 1967, is a torrid ballad that Bud plays with abandon backed by Legrand on piano and strings.
Chanson de Solange and De Delphine a Lancien are both uptempo burners from Rochefort. The former finds Bud on alto along with a taste of Byers' trombone and Roberts' guitar. For the latter, Bud is on flute, running through impossibly fast and complex lines backed by piano and vibes. Though the vibist isn't named in the album's personnel, Larry Bunker is a good guess.
I Will Wait for You was the other major standard to emerge from Legrand's Umbrellas. It's taken at a variety of tempos, including a series of Supersax-y lines run down by the two saxes, trumpet and organ.
My favorite here is the inquisitive His Eyes, Her Eyes from The Thomas Crown Affair, which sets Bud and Barone off on a wild tear supported by Kane on organ.
Once Upon a Summertime is taken as a scorching ballad. The album ends with another tune from Rochefort—the skippy Chanson des Jumelles, with Barone's trumpet and Kane's organ.
The older I get, the more I appreciate Bud's jazz-goes-'60s efforts—particularly when they sizzle. To his credit, Bud always stuck to his knitting, no matter the trend or fad. On Windmills of Your Mind, that was an easier challenge given Legrand's French jazz-pop melodies.
JazzWax tracks: Bud Shank's Windmills of Your Mind (World Pacific Jazz) is available only on LP but may be available at download sites. It's on LP at Amazon here. EBay, as of yesterday, also featured quite a few copies.
JazzWax clip:Here's Bud Shank on alto saxophone backed by Gary Barone on trumpet, Artie Kane on organ and Howard Roberts on guitar playing His Eyes, Her Eyes from Windmills of Your Mind (1969)...
Over the course of his career, guitarist Barry Galbraith appeared on 594 recording sessions. Yet he made only one album as a featured leader—Guitar and the Wind. The album was recorded over three days in January 1958 for Decca. The fact that Galbraith didn't record more extensively as a featured soloist for Decca and other labels is unfortunate.
There are only two possible explanations for Galbraith's lack of spotlight time: Either he was too busy as an East Coast sideman (he was recording virtually every other day at the time) or he was introspective and more comfortable in a group setting. The answer, according to Hal McKusick, who knew Galbraith well, is both.
What makes Galbraith's lack of output notably disheartening is the exceptional quality of Guitar and the Wind. Galbraith's ability rested not in speed or technique—though he was capable of both. Instead, Galbraith was about extraordinary chord voicings and swinging harmony lines. His sound also was strong and large, with enormous confidence. Guitar and the Wind not only demonstrates this side of Galbraith but also features two superb orchestras behind him on the different recording dates.
The first and third sessions featured Urbie Green, Chauncey Welsch and Frank Rehak (trombones); Dick Hixson (bass trombone); Bobby Jaspar (flute and tenor sax); Eddie Costa (piano and vibes); Barry Galbraith (guitar); Milt Hinton (bass) and Osie Johnson (drums), with Billy Byers arranging.
The second session featured Bobby Jaspar (flute and tenor sax); Phil Bodner, Romeo Penque and Spencer Sinatra (reeds); Eddie Costa (piano and vibes); Barry Galbraith (guitar); Milt Hinton (bass) and Osie Johnson (drums), with Al Cohn arranging.
The "wind" on both sessions was Bobby Jaspar on flute, though Cohn's charts triple up on flutes on some tracks. The sound of Galbraith with flutes is positively gorgeous, particularly on I Like to Recognize the Tune. Other tracks feature superb trombone arranging by Byers [pictured], particularly on Anyplace I Hang My Hat.
Hal McKusick knew Galbraith well, both as a session-mate and as a member of Hal's own groups. Here's what Hal shared with me yesterday:
"You're assumption is correct: Barry was content to be busy doing all the dates he did. A wise a&r man would have been wise to capture his talent on many albums, in different settings, but sadly it was not to be.
"Barry was very organized with his time. He would go home after a day of recording, with a night gig added in some cases, and practice classical and other pieces in his basement. He was a truly dedicated musician, quiet, efficient and a great sight-reader. He also had the finest taste in phrasing, articulation and voicings.
"We spent many hours at his home (when he lived on Long Island) exploring songs and working out ensemble sounds with guitar and alto. That was the beginning of my recording career as a leader, utilizing what we had discovered together.
"Barry is one of the great unsung heroes in music, known and respected by those who are aware of his contribution and terrific musical ability."
If you dig Galbraith, you have 593 recording sessions to choose from. If you want to hear his brilliance up close, you have just Guitar and the Wind.
JazzWax tracks: Barry Galbraith's Guitar and the Wind is hidden at Amazon on a two-fer release from LoneHill called The Manhattan Jazz Septette, a group led by Oscar Pettiford and recorded in June 1956 that included Hal and Galbraith. You'll find the CD here.
If you're still craving pure Galbraith, you'll find him on three tracks on Guitar Soul (Status), recorded in May 1957 with Kenny Burrell on guitar, Leonard Gaskin on bass and Bobby Donaldson on drums. The three tracks are Billie's Bounce, Prelude to a Kiss and It Don't Mean a Thing. Remaining tracks feature other guitarists. Unfortunately, this album is rare and doesn't seem to have made its way onto CD yet.
JazzWax clip:Here's Barry Galbraith soloing on Love Is for the Very Young (also known as the theme to The Bad and the Beautiful), from Guitar and the Wind...
Jack Tracy (1927-2010), a Down Beat editor in the early 1950s who became a formidable jazz record producer starting at the end of the decade and whose recordings included the Benny Golson-Art Farmer Jazztet, died on December 21. He was 83. [Photo of Art Farmer, Jack Tracy and Benny Golson by Chuck Stewart, courtesy of Steven Cerra]
Jack's name and liner notes graced many of Mercury's jazz and pop albums of the period. He soon was sent to run the Los Angeles offices. But once the folk-revival movement began in earnest in the early 1960s followed by the British Invasion, he struggled to find the types of groups to record that his bosses demanded, Jack told me several weeks ago. "I tried," he said. "I went to all the clubs and saw all the young groups, but I just didn't understand the music or what would sell."
But that didn't stop Jack. He simply moved on to other labels. From 1958 through the 1970s, he produced over 300 jazz recordings for Mercury, Limelight, Argo, Chess, World-Pacific and Fantasy.
Record promoter Dick LaPalm remembers:
"In early February 1960, I had just returned to Chicago from a promotion tour for Nat Cole. When the phone rang, it was Leonard Chess [pictured]. He was very excited and wanted me to fall by the studio to hear a new jazz group that Jack Tracy had just signed. The problem was that Leonard didn't know a lot about jazz and even less about this group.
"It was already late, and I was kind of reluctant to face the Chicago winter, but Leonard wouldn't let me get out of this one. So in sub-zero weather, I headed out to hear the initial recording session of musicians Leonard refered to as 'Benny Goldman and another guy who plays a big trumpet.'
"It was worth the trip. In fact, I should have paid admission. Producing the session was my friend, Jack Tracy. A few minutes after I walked into the control room, Jack hit the talk-back mic...'OK, guys. We're on a roll. Killer Joe. Take three.'
"The co-leaders of the band, better known as The Jazztet, were Benny Golson and Art Farmer."
What I'll remember most about Jack was his love for JazzWax. Not a week went by without an email from Jack excitedly expressing his enjoyment for one or more of my posts. We also spoke at length for my book some weeks back.
On the morning of his passing last week, I received the following holiday thanks from Jack:
"Marc: Thank you for Jazzwax , it has become a regular part of my must-checks. My best wishes to you for a happy holiday season. Peace. —Jack"
I'm going to miss Jack. For more on his long career as an observer and participant in jazz history, see Steve Cerra's fine interview at Jazz Profileshere. [Photo of Jack Tracy by Steve Cerra]
Jean-Pierre Leloir (1931-2010). French jazz journalist Guy Kopelowicz sent along the following sad news from Paris:
"French photographer Jean-Pierre Leloir died Monday evening [December 20] at his Paris home, his daughter Marion announced today. He was 79. Leloir was the ever-present photographer on the Paris jazz scene since 1951. Many of his photos adorned the covers of jazz albums by Art Blakey, Louis Armstrong, Donald Byrd, Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins, Lester Young, Duke Ellington, among many others."
Beatles '63. Painter Melissa Meyer sent along a link to the following rare color Beatles clip from 1963:
Jazz Montreal. Video-journalist Randy Cole taped the following performance at Montreal's Segal Centre for the Performing Arts on December 18. The song is Change of Heart, by trumpeter Kevin Dean. The trio is Dean, Al McLean on alto saxophone and Mike Rud on guitar. Dean is a founding faculty member of the Schulich School of Music's Jazz department at McGill University...
Freddie Green. Michael Pettersen in Evanston, Ill., has launched a site in tribute to guitarist Freddie Green. You'll find the site here.
CD discoveries of the week: The Ben Wolfe Quintet Live at Smalls is a driving, contemporary hard-bop session. Recorded at the New York jazz club Smalls, the group features bassist Wolfe, saxophonist Marcus Strickland, trumpeter Ryan Kisor, pianist Luis Perdomo and drummer Gregory Hutchinson. All of the music was composed and arranged by Wolfe, who understands how to create attentive hooks and build on them with historical flavor. Sample the cat-like For the Great Sonny Clark or Telescope. This is a perfect album all the way through. You'll find Live at Smalls at iTunes or here.
Clyde McPhatter is all but forgotten today. But throughout the '50s, his voice pioneered the smooth, emotional sound that dominated early soul before Jackie Wilson, James Brown and Marvin Gaye added earthy energy to the mix. A founding member of the Dominos and the Drifters, McPhatter went solo in the mid-50s for Atlantic. But perhaps McPhatter's greatest vocal years were from 1959 to 1965, when he recorded for MGM and Mercury. During this seven-year period, McPhatter was given the full strings and choir treatment, which perfectly framed his licorice timbre. A new two-CD set Clyde McPhatter: Love Please includes all of his MGM and Mercury singles, remastered. Unfortunately for McPhatter, his distinctly silky '50s sound never quite made the jump to the more urgent '60s as tastes changed. The singer died in 1972 of complications brought on by acute alcoholism. You'll find Clyde McPhatter: Love Please at iTunes and here.
Oddball album cover of the week: The New York Quartet recorded two albums for Coral in 1957—this one and Adam's Theme. The group was comprised of Mat Mathews, Herbie Mann, Joe Puma and Whitey Mitchell. I have not heard this one, but based on its title, one can only assume the arrangements are "easy listening" in spirit. As for the cover, it's fun to see the early suburban love ritual of resting greasy hot dog skewers on each other's clean shoulders—a pastoral rite popular in the '50s.
Dick LaPalm [pictured in 1963] is a record promoter who worked closely with Nat King Cole on all of his releases for Capitol in the '50s and '60s. He sent along the following note regarding the history of The Christmas Song:
"In early May of 1946, the King Cole Trio, with guitarist Oscar Moore and bassist Johnny Miller, was appearing at The Trocadero in Hollywood. One night after the last set, a then 21-year-old Mel Torme came up to the bandstand and told Nat that he had a new song that he was eager for him to hear.
"After the last few customers had left, Mel [pictured] sat down at the piano and performed The Christmas Song for Nat and the guys. Nat loved it immediately, and he sat down at the piano and ran it down a couple of times. Years later, Nat told me that it was that very night that Oscar Moore played the Jingle Bells coda. Interestingly, Nat used this same ending every time he recorded the song.
"As much as Nat liked the song, he told Mel that it would be wrong to record it with just his trio, that it deserved a bigger showcase. Carlos Gastel, who was managing both Nat and Mel at the time, tried to persuade Capitol Records to use a few strings just for this one song. No luck. No strings!
"On June 14, 1946 while appearing at Kelly's Stable in New York, the Nat King Cole Trio went into the studios of WMCA radio to record The Christmas Song. As soon as he heard the first playback, Nat knew it was wrong. He was determined to have his way, displaying a rare instance of stubbornness. Nat convinced Capitol to let him re-record it—this time with a string section.
"On August 19, 1946 Nat returned to the same WMCA studio for his first-ever orchestral recording. By the way, the 'string section' consisted of four string players, a harpist and a drummer. A modest orchestral roster, to be sure, but a beginning, an augur of things to come for Nat Cole.
"The session turned out perfectly, and became a watershed recording in his career. Contrary to what many think, this was an entirely new session, not just the addition of some strings to the June 14th date.
"Nat's first recording of The Christmas Song hit record stores (remember them?) the third week of November 1946, and the response was incredible. One week later it reached the #3 spot on pop and r&b charts, an uncommon crossover, and a portent of what would ultimately become Nat's boundless appeal.
"This was the recording that Capitol would reissue every holiday season for the next seven years, and each year it would chart in the Top 5. Any wonder that Capitol Records was elated?
"In August 1953, Nat recorded it again, this time with Nelson Riddle conducting, and, of course, with many more than five strings. This version was reissued for the next eight years.
"Then on March 30, 1961, Nat recorded the stereo version with Ralph Carmichael conducting. This is the last time he recorded the song, and to the present time, this is the rendition that Capitol reissues regularly.
"Though the song is seasonal, it had no such restraints where Nat's fans were concerned. It always blew me away to hear someone from Nat's audience shouting, "The Christmas Song...The Christmas Song" no matter the time of year.
"The duet with daughter Natalie, so brimming with love and devotion, was recorded in July of 1998 in England with the London Symphony Orchestra. I've often conjured up a vision of this huge orchestra in London's Abbey Road Studios, standing by for the downbeat and Natalie looking up and saying, 'Dad, you always wanted more strings. Well, this is really more strings!'
"This year marked the 65th year that we're treated to Nathaniel's classic recording, and it remains, by far, the most-played of all Christmas records. The original 1946 recording was inducted into The Grammy Hall of Fame in 1974.
"Merry Christmas, and enjoy the magic of the Season."
—Dick LaPalm
JazzWax clip:Here's Natalie Cole overdubbing her dad's most famous version...
Rather than post prose today, I've decided to share with you some of my favorite video clips viewed over the past week. As my friends know, I'm a YouTube junkie, trawling the site daily for little-known and hidden jazz, rock and soul videos. Below are five favorites:
Here's Dusty Springfield on perhaps her best televised version of The Look of Love...
Here's Springfield announcing and interviewing the Beatles in October 1963...
Here's James Brown working through a medley of hits and steps. Hang in for the dance-off between Brown and Davis...
And finally, here's Sarah Vaughan with pianist Ronnell Bright in Sweden in 1958 singing September in the Rain, Loverman, Mean to Me and a stunning Tenderly. Dig Ronnell's chord voicings behind Vaughan! (I spoke with Ronnell yesterday and he's doing great. Go here for my interview with him)...
Trudy Pitts, a Hammond B3 organist with a swirling, stinging style rich with technique and whose attack on the instrument was as aggressive as many of her male counterparts, died December 19. She was 78.
A late jazz-soul bloomer, Pitts was signed by Prestige in 1967 just as jazz was losing young listeners to rock and soul. Unlike many organists of the period who had learned to play the Hammond B3 in church and on the road, Pitts studied music at the Philadelphia Musical Academy, Temple University and Juilliard. Pitts' move to the organ was encouraged by her husband, William "Mr. C" Carney, who had played drums with organist Shirley Scott and later would perform with Pitts.
Pitts recorded four albums as a leader for Prestige and a handful of others as a sidewoman with Pat Martino, Willis Jackson and Rahsaan Roland Kirk. She also recorded more recently on piano. Pitts performed in 2006 at the 11th Annual Mary Lou Williams Women in Jazz Festival at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C., and in Philadelphia on the Kimmel Center's 7,000 pipe organ. She performed at the Kennedy Center again in 2008.
It should also be noted that Pitts was a formidable vocalist with a deep, earthy sound reminiscent of Sarah Vaughan's in the mid-'60s.
JazzWax tracks: Two of Trudy Pitts' finest recordings are Introducing the Fabulous Trudy Pitts (1967) and Pat Martino's El Hombre (1967). You'll find Introducing as well as tracks from Pitts' These Blues of Mine on a compilation: Trudy Pitts and Pat Martino: Legends of Acid Jazzhere. Pat Martino's El Hombre has been remastered and is available at iTunes or here.
JazzWax clip: Not familiar with Trudy Pitts? DigSteppin' in Minor from Introducing...
Not convinced? Here's One for Rose from Pat Martino's El Hombre with Danny Turner on flute...
Saxophonist Hal McKusick is on some of the finest New York recording sessions of the '50s. His reputation for reading music perfectly the first time, no matter how complex, spread quickly among fellow musicians and those in charge of assembling them for recordings. Hal could always be counted on to swing, lead a big-band reed section and deliver smooth solos. It also helped that Hal was a supremely confident player, a virtuoso on virtually every reed and woodwind instrument, and as easy-going as a June breeze.
From a collector's standpoint, 1956 was a particularly golden year for Hal. We recently spoke on the phone about his recording work that year as a sideman and leader, and Hal was as amazed as I was by the sheer number. To give you a sense of his busy recording schedule in '56, here's a list of his 27 sessions that year—all of which are top-shelf recordings with many of the finest East Coast jazz studio and club musicians:
We Could Make Such Beautiful Music—George Williams and His Orchestra (January 11-13)
The Hawk in Hi-Fi—Coleman Hawkins (January 18)
Plays Tiny Kahn and Johnny Mandel—Elliott Lawrence (January 30-February 2)
Drummer Man—Gene Krupa (February 12)
Jazz Workshop—Hal McKusick (March 3 and April 3-4)
A Mellow Bit of Rhythm—Andy Kirk (March 4 and 12)
The Drum Suite—Manny Albam (March 5-7)
Johnny Mathis (March)
The Jazz Workshop—George Russell (March 31, October 17 and December 21)
A Bit of the Blues—Osie Johnson (April 7)
Larry Sonn and His All-Star Band—Larry Sonn (April 10-11)
Rhythm Was His Business—George Williams (April 23-28)
The Mellow Moods of Jazz—Peanuts Hucko (May)
Kansas City Memories—Nat Pierce (June)
Manhattan Jazz Septet—(June)
To You From Teddi King—Teddi King (June 9)
Swinging at the Steel Pier—Elliott Lawrence (June 16-21)
All About Urbie Green—Urbie Green (July 31-August 5 and 23)
Gil's Guests—Gil Melle (August 10 and 24)
Erroll Garner With Orchestra—Erroll Garner (September 2)
Swingin'—Terry Gibbs (October 1, 2 and 8)
Shepard's Flock—Tommy Shepard (October 1-3)
In a Swingin' Mood—Ann Gilbert and Elliott Lawrence (October)
Jazz at the Academy—Hal McKusick (November 3)
Larry Sonn and His Orchestra—Larry Sonn (November 20)
The Swingin' Miss D—Dinah Washington (December 6)
Hal McKusick Quintet—Hal McKusick (December 31)
JazzWax clip: Johnny Mathis' first session for Columbia was in 1956 and featured Bernie Glow (tp), Ben Harrod (oboe), Ray Beckenstein (fl), Hal McKusick (cl,as), Danny Bank (b-cl), Eddie Costa (p,vib), Barry Galbraith (g), Milt Hinton (b) and Osie Johnson (d). Manny Albam wrote the arrangements.
One of the four tracks recorded that March was I'm Glad There Is You, with Hal McKusick on alto saxophone behind Mathis. To hear the track and Hal's alto sax for free, go here.
You'll find the track at iTunes or here on Johnny Mathis: 40th Anniversary Edition. The track is incorrectly listed at Amazon as the Percy Faith version. That one came later and had strings.
Marc Myers writes frequently on music and the arts for the Wall Street Journal. He is author of "Why Jazz Happened" (University of California Press). In 2012, JazzWax was named the Jazz Journalists Association's "Blog of the Year."
