What you're about to see is going to blow your mind (unless you've seen it already). This was the first time I viewed the following video clip, and I knew nothing of it until JazzWax reader and publicist Michael Bloom sent along a link.
The clip is a 15-minute documentary short called Audition at RCA, which was filmed in 1964 by master of the genre D.A. Pennebaker. According to George Avakian, Dave Lambert had put together a new vocalese quintet called Lambert & Co. and came to RCA Studios to audition his new compositions and arrangements.
The hope was that the powers at RCA, which had recorded Lambert, Hendricks and Bavan a year earlier, would go for it. George was willing to produce if things worked out (he's the cool, tough one the group meets on the street before entering the studio).
Very few recordings or clips of Dave Lambert talking or singing on his own are available, so this documentary is a double blessing. Of course, Pennebaker [pictured] would go on to film Don't Look Back (Bob Dylan), Monterey Pop and Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (David Bowie) among others. Here are notes from Pennebaker on the Lambert documentary short:
"Dave Lambert had been a hero of mine ever since I left Chicago for New York in the '40s, long before he’d begun the famous Lambert, Hendricks and Ross trio. He was an arranger for Gene Krupa, who, in addition to trumpeter Roy Eldridge and vocalist Anita O'Day, had these fantastic brass arrangements, which I still remember and have the 78's to prove it. [Pictured: Mary Vonnie with Dave Lambert]
"Anyway, while we were building a studio on 45th Street for fledgling film company Leacock Pennebaker, Bob Van Dyke, our audio genius, introduced me to Dave, and got him to help us finish the studio. Dave, it turned out, was a first-rate carpenter. [Pictured: Vocalist Leslie Dorsey]
"When it came up that he had an audition at RCA for a new group to record songs he had just written, we went along with him and filmed the session. RCA decided not to go for it, and wiped the tapes, so we stuck our unedited film up on a shelf and left it there. Several months later, while helping someone fix a flat on the Merritt Parkway, Dave was hit by a car and killed." [Pictured: Mary Vonnie]
For those eager to learn more, George is going to give the film a fresh viewing for me. I'll catch up with George down the road for his recollections. Hopefully D.A. Pennebaker will reach out to me as well. The vocalists here were not well known then, and never managed to break out. As the rock age swept over the recording industry, vocalese projects like this one sadly were rendered obsolete. [Pictured: George Avakian]
But for an all-too-brief 15 minutes, Dave Lambert and a very cool set of vocalists sang hip music that tragically no longer exists anywhere else but here. If you recognized the musicians on the date, please post as a comment.
To view D.A. Pennebaker's complete Audition at RCA, go here.
The musicians are Moe Wechsler (piano), George Duvivier (bass) and Gary Chester (drums).
JazzWax notes: For more on D.A. Pennebaker, go here. To read a full version of the notes above from Pennebaker, go here. To the best of my knowledge, Blow the Man Down, Comfy Cozy and the other Lambert songs were never recorded by anyone else. [Pictured: Sarah Boatner and David Lucas]
Try to remember that this is 1964, before documentary filmmaking takes on an in-your-face style. To Pennebaker's credit, the camera is constantly on top of the singers where you want him to be, and the lens clearly falls in love with Lambert and the two female vocalists. When cool reigned supreme.
Gil Scott-Heron (1949-2011), a spoken-word singer- songwriter whose socially conscious soul-jazz albums of the '70s neatly leveraged the feel and urgency of Sly Stone, Marvin Gaye and Richie Havens, died in New York on May 27. He was 62.
Scott-Heron's albums from the '70s are essential for fans of jazz and soul. His most dynamic recordings include Pieces of Man (1971), which included Lady Day and John Coltrane, and Winter in America (1974), which featured his hit The Bottle. Often overlooked were Scott-Heron's lyrics and jazz core, which combined sermon-like messages advocating peace, justic and equality backed by the optimism of a jazz flute and piano.
For more on Scott-Heron, see Alec Wilkinson's marvelous August 2010 profile in the The New Yorkerhere.
Here's Gil Scott-Heron's Save the Children, from Pieces of Man, featuring Hubert Laws on flute...
Sony's complete box sets. Record companies have finally started to get their online acts together. Consider this: Sony last week announced the launch of a new e-store. But instead of selling everything and anything it offers, the label is doing things a little differently. Called PopMarket.com, the site features daily deals on special releases and box sets of complete Columbia recordings by specific artists. The boxes are discounted for brief periods of time, and the site offers daily sales (at Popmarket.com, click on the "Complete" tab).
What makes PopMarket's "complete" concept interesting is that it targets consumers who still favor CD box sets and enjoy mini-LP reproductions of the original album covers. The site also adds a level of excitement by featuring a clock ticking down the time remaining for the special offer.
For starters, Sony is selling boxes with all of the Columbia releases for Miles Davis, The Byrds, Sam Cooke, Stan Getz, Return to Forever and Aretha Franklin. Apparently, these boxes will be discounted for a short period—the month in which they are made available.
While record stores may be long gone, Sony's venture certainly gets the juices flowing again. All that's missing is the cranky old clerk with the long gray beard who wears suspenders and a belt, and the young clerk wearing too much English Leather..
Seven hours of Stax. Chris Cowles and Tom Shaker, radio's Stax-maniacs, have produced another mega-show on the Memphis label's artists—complete with interviews. Of particular note is their chat with Skip Pitts, Isaac Hayes' guitarist, on how the music for The Theme From Shaft was done. The show aired on WRTC in Hartford, Conn.
Here are the passionate podcast shows and their respective links:
Hour 1: Interviews with drummer Jody Stephens, founding member of Big Star and staff manager at Ardent Studios; and guitarist Skip Pitts. Go here.
Hour 2: Interviews with Ardent Studios founder John Fry; vocalist John Gary Williams of the Mad Lads; and engineer Terry Manning. Go here.
Hour 3: Interviews with vocalist Eddie Floyd; Rick Nuhn of Concord Music Group; and writer/singer Sir Mack Rice. Go here.
Hour 4: Interviews with former Stax singer/composure and then publicity director Deanie Parker; and guitarist Steve Cropper of Booker T. & the MGs. Go here.
Hour 5: Interviews with vocalist Sam Jones of the Astors and Tim Sampson, communications director of Stax Museum of American Soul Music. Go here.
Hours 6 & 7: Interviews with composer and singer David Porter; Sam & Dave trumpet player Newton Collier; and with piano player, arranger and composer Marvell Thomas. Go here.
Miles Davis. Bret Primack, the Jazz Video Guy, interviews saxophonists Sonny Rollins and Gary Bartz on Miles Davis. Go here.
Russ Garcia at 95. JazzWax reader John Pickworth sent along this clip from a New Zealand television show featuring Russ and Gina Garcia on Russ' 95th birthday. Go here.
Eumir Deodato Plays Marcos Valle. For those who are unable to find this out-of-print album but loved the clip I posted during my interview with Marcos, here's a YouTube of the entire album...
Lambert, Hendricks and Ross fan page. JazzWax reader Jonathan Cohen sent along a link to a Facebook page he created in tribute to vocalese group Lambert, Hendricks and Ross. Go here.
Snooky Young radio. Next Thursday, JazzWax reader and on-air host Tom Priesmeyer will host a two-hour tribute to trumpeter Snooky Young on WRVU in Nashville, Tenn. The show airs from 7 to 9 a.m. (EDT). You can listen on your computer from anywhere in the world by going here, clicking on "audio archive" and scrolling down to click on Swingshift.
WNEW jingles. For those far and wide who grew up listening to the long-gone WNEW-AM in New York (and are homesick for the Big Apple), Joe Fay has assembled a series of jingles for the station that were arranged in the styles of different big band and jazz stars. Scroll down the right-hand side to review and listen. A trip back in time. Go here.
Eric Dolphy comics. JazzWax reader and illustrator Keith Brown is creating a graphic novel on saxophonist Eric Dolphy. He's using Kickstart.com, which allows members to raise money for creative projects. Take a look at Keith's promo clip and dig the Kickstart site while you're there. You may need it someday. Go here.
Dragnet and LSD. In the wake of my interview with Grace Slick, director Raymond De Felitta unearthed a Dragnet beaut at YouTube. In this episode, Joe Friday comes face to face with the Summer of Love here...
Ronnell Bright. Pianist Ronnell Bright has always been one of my favorites, both for his taste and voicings. Sarah Vaughan thought so, which is why Ronnell was her accompanist during some of her finest years in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Here's Ronnell on The Jeffersons. If you don't have time to watch, slide the bar up to 6:05...
CD discovery of the week: Back in 1987, Stephane Grappelli recorded an album of Jerome Kern songs for GRP. The late swing violinist was backed by a rich string section conducted by Ettore Stratta. Stephane Grappelli Plays Jerome Kern soon went out of print and has never been remastered or reissued. That is, until now. Ettore and his wife Pat Philips have produced the re-release of this forgotten warm and tender Kern tribute. Each track—Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, The Way You Look Tonight and Pick Yourself Up, for example—gets your heart and foot moving. You'll find this one at iTunes and here.
Oddball album cover of the week: I don't know much about Artie Wayne, but I suspect that winning over Swedish bombshell Anita Ekberg probably required a little more than a croon from across the room. What's unclear is whether Ekberg's arms are raised in ecstasy or protest. Her expression speaks volumes.
Following my post yesterday on Dave Brubeck's Dave Digs Disney (1957), I heard from Iola Brubeck, Dave's wife. The album has been newly remastered and reissued by Sony/Legacy in mono and stereo versions plus alternate takes. If you were ever a kid, you'll love the new release, which is brimming with childlike optimism and energy. [Pictured: Iola and Dave Brubeck]
Here's Iola's email to me:
"Dave Digs Disney has always been one of our favorites, too. As you noted in your post, the Dave Brubeck Quartet had played some of those Disney-related tunes for several years before the album was actually made.
"Dave was familiar with the melodies because our five kids loved to play them on their individual portable record players. The records were the vinyl Little Golden Records series that I believe were issued by Disney. Dave had heard those tunes repeatedly around the house until they sank into his subconscious, I guess, and the group began to play some of the tunes. Some Day My Prince Will Come became a favorite of ours, as well as Alice in Wonderland.
"Disneyland in California had been open a couple of years before we had an opportunity to take our family from Oakland to Anaheim for a visit. That was when Dave was struck with the idea of recording an album devoted to the Disney melodies. I believe he had the idea right in the park and called George Avakian immediately.
"From what I understand, the business heads at Disney were not too interested in a jazz recording of its songs, so a tie-in was not possible. The solution was to call the album Dave Digs Disney and to use the image you see on the cover, not the park.
"It is interesting that you mentioned in your post that Dave Digs Disney was the second best-selling album in Dave's Columbia catalog. Dave used to joke about that when he introduced Someday My Prince Will Come at concerts. He would say that the reason the album sold so well was that Columbia added Dave Digs Disney to its Columbia House Record Club lineup.
"Columbia had a policy of automatically sending out recordings to members of the club and if not returned within a certain number of days, it was considered a purchase. Dave said he could only imagine the surprise some grandparents experienced when they received the record and played it for little Johnny or Jane expecting a nice "Mickey Mouse" album of sweet Disney tunes.
"I found the new album's outtakes to be particularly interesting. It's fun to compare takes and try to guess why one was chosen over the other. I'm biased, of course, but they all sound good to me."
JazzWax tracks: The newly remastered mono and stereo versions of Dave Digs Disney (Sony/Legacy) are available in a single release at iTunes or here (download) and here (CD).
In the summer of 1957, Dave Brubeck and Paul Desmond decided to record an album of well-known tunes from Walt Disney's animated films. Though Dave Digs Disney was first issued digitally in 1994, the album for years mysteriously remained on the back burner whenever Columbia producers reached into the vaults to remaster Dave's albums using the latest technology. Now Sony/Legacy has finally reissued the storied Disney album, and it sounds splendid. Best of all, the lemon meringue release includes both mono and stereo versions as well as alternate takes.
Yesterday, I spoke to George Avakian, the album's original producer, about the recording. More with George in a moment.
Dave Digs Disney has been a personal favorite of mine for years. I've long loved its sophisticated bedtime story quality and whimsy. Listening to it always sounds like a visit to a childhood neighborhood as an adult. Having spent hours with Dave on the phone and at his Connecticut home last December, I can tell you that this album is dear to his heart and one of the closest representations of who he is as a sunny, optimistic artist.
According to Sony, Dave Digs Disney is the second most important album in Dave's catalogue after Time Out. The album was recorded over three different dates between June and August 1957—in New York, Los Angeles and again in New York. The original LP was issued only in mono, though stereo tapes were recorded at the time. Typically, mono versions were followed by a stereo release six months later. But back in 1957, at the dawn of the stereo era, there wasn't enough of a market. People simply didn't have the gear in large enough numbers, and Columbia decided to hold off.
So why did Dave bother recording an album of Disney songs anyway? According to George's original liner notes, Dave had called him from Disneyland in California after taking his five children on the rides. Excited by the experience, Dave thought an album of Disney movie songs would be a great idea.
The truth is Dave and alto saxophonist Paul Desmond had been playing a batch of Disney songs since the very early 1950s. Dave loved their lyrical, playful quality, probably from his first-hand experience of taking his kids to the movies before Disneyland opened. After all, The Duke was written in 1954 after dropping off one of his sons at school.
Today, a jazz version of a Disney song is hardly a surprise. But back in the '50s, no one in jazz took Disney movies or their soundtracks seriously. Disney represented Squaresville, a largely white Utopian world in which bad moods, misfortune and unconventional lifestyles simply didn't exist. Even the term "Mickey Mouse" was musicians' code for rinky-dink, not the real deal, and lightweight.
The Dave Brubeck Quartet was the first modern jazz group to treat Disney songs seriously. This, of course, excludes the swing-era big bands that recorded quirky, "Mickey Mouse" adaptations. For instance, Dave's group first recorded Alice in Wonderland and Give a Little Whistle in 1952 for Fantasy. In each case, the rendition was a robust, adventurous interpretation rather than a sticky embrace. Bill Evans and Miles Davis followed, and soon even John Coltrane was getting into the act with My Favorite Things and Chim Chim Cher-ee.
Here's what George Avakian told me yesterday:
"The Disney theme was Dave's idea, and I was amazed when he called and told me what he wanted to do. I think I said, 'Jesus, what a goofy idea.' But anything Dave wanted short of tearing down the building was fine with me. He was taken with the tunes, and the quintet had been playing them on the road quite a bit. As you know, Dave and Paul had a quirky sense of humor.
"I was little more than a traffic cop on those sessions. It was one of the easiest dates I ever produced. When the record came out, there were a few who said, 'What is Dave doing recording Disney?' The inference was that the album's theme was somehow trite or child-like, and not nearly as serious as Dave’s earlier efforts. None of which was the case then—or now. Dave was ahead of his time tapping into the Disney songbook. Look at how many artists have done the same since."
The new reissue taps into your inner child, is relentlessly upbeat and offers some terrific improvising by Dave and Desmond.
JazzWax tracks:Dave Digs Disney (Sony/Legacy) is available at iTunes or here (download) and here (CD).
When most jazz fans think about Gerry Mulligan in the early 1950s, two recordings come to mind: his March 1950 session with the Miles Davis Nonet (later coined Birth of the Cool) and his influential August 1952 pianoless quartet date in Los Angeles with Chet Baker, Bob Whitlock and Chico Hamilton, which marked the birth of a more laid-back West Coast sound. But nestled in between the two was an equally important recording session in New York that fused both the cool jazz that had been and the contrapuntal jazz that would soon be.
This album was recorded for Prestige in September 1951 and was known originally as Mulligan Plays Mulligan, later reissued as Gerry Mulligan: Historically Speaking. It was the baritone saxophonist's first album under his own name and one of his most expressive and inventive.
But the tentet recording is notable for several other reasons. First, all of the songs were spirited Mulligan originals. Second, Mulligan arranged them all in a style that made it seem as though twice as many musicians were in the studio. Third, the tracks featured what are arguably tenor saxophonist Allen Eager's finest and most fluid solos. And last, Mulligan's girlfriend Gail Madden played maracas.
Why is the last point notable? The following spring, Madden would be Mulligan's road companion as the two hitched from New York to Los Angeles. According to Matthew Ruddick's unpublished Funny Valentine: A Biography of Chet Baker:
"In the spring of 1952, Mulligan's drug addiction was starting to get out of control, and he was struggling to find regular work. He decided to sell his horns, and hitchhike to California with his girlfriend.
" 'I did some playing along the way using borrowed horns, mostly tenors, and I remember playing in a cowboy band in a roadhouse outside Albuquerque for a while,' he said. 'I was lucky because I knew a guy who was teaching at the university there, and he helped me keep body and soul together.'
"Upon arrival in Los Angeles, Gail Madden introduced Mulligan to her former boyfriend, the arranger Bob Graettinger. Graettinger was in the process of recording City of Glass, his most famous composition, with Stan Kenton’s orchestra. Mulligan evidently impressed Kenton, and was invited to write for the band."
But we're getting ahead of the story. Mulligan Plays Mulligan featured Jerry Lloyd and Nick Travis (tp), Ollie Wilson (v-tb), Allen Eager (ts), Gerry Mulligan and Max McElroy (bar), George Wallington (p), Phil Leshin (b), Walter Bolden (d) and Gail Madden (maracas).
Tracks are all rip-roaring swingers with a bebop heart and contrapuntal finish. On Mullenium, for example, Mulligan arranged for just the two baritones and tenor plus the rhythm section, ostensibly to distinguish the result from his chart of Mullenium for Elliot Lawrence's big band.
On the Mulligan recording of Mullenium, the two baritones are hard-charging, but they swing in and out of each other's lines, with Eager's tenor sailing in for an unbroken solo and Wallington adding keyboard drama. On Funhouse, Mulligan and McElroy open the minor-key tune without accompaniment. The intro features a fugue-like duel that was pretty much new to jazz at the time. Instead of heat, there was cool collaboration with understated cockiness. Oddly, Madden's light maracas offer a quaint, beat touch that works throughout the album like an eternal high hat.
Each track on this Prestige release represents a bridge Mulligan was building between the cool jazz of the late 1940s and the pianoless concept he had been developing at the Red Door rehearsal space in New York in 1950. Remarkably, all seven tracks were cut in one session, and they would become the basis for Mulligan's small-group concept when he arrived in Los Angeles the following year.
I suspect we have Gail Madden to thank in part for encouraging the pianoless concept in New York as well as the California journey. Another one of jazz's silent actors.
JazzWax tracks: Mulligan Plays Mulligan is available as a download at iTunes or here.
Among the least known but most fascinating jazz recordings of the early 1960s are five albums recorded by a quartet co-led by clarinetist Buddy DeFranco and accordionist Tommy Gumina. The first album was recorded for Decca in 1960 while the balance were done for Mercury through 1964. For some odd reason, none of the albums have been reissued on CD, and mint copies of the LPs go for double-digits at eBay. [Pictured: Buddy DeFranco and Tommy Gumina, courtesy of Tommy Gumina]
What made these recordings special was their sophisticated approach. Both DeFranco and Gumina were monster swingers and technicians. They also were fully aware of the pitfalls of combining a clarinet and accordion. Together, the instruments' pleasing personalities pull naturally toward commercial pop, which was the kiss of death for true jazz artists.
So Buddy and Gumina came up with a way to keep the music interesting: They played in a polychordal style— meaning Buddy would run the chord changes to a song on the clarinet while improvising. Gumina would voice the song's chords in such a way that he'd be playing in a different key. The resulting sound was provocative without ever losing the melodic quality of the songs. [Pictured: The Buddy DeFranco-Tommy Gumina Quartet, courtesy of Joyce and Buddy DeFranco]
I spoke with Buddy, 88, last week about this nearly forgotten, short-lived quartet and what they were trying to achieve:
JazzWax: When did you first meet Tommy Gumina? Buddy DeFranco: I met Tommy through my drummer Frank DeVito. In late 1959, I was looking for a piano player for a weekend gig at a club in California. I called Frank for a recommendation. He called me back and said he couldn’t find a pianist, that everyone was working that weekend. But he said he knew of a terrific accordion player.
JW: What did you think? BDF: I thought no way. An accordionist in 1960 was the kiss of death. It was a fast way to sound like a lounge act. When I mentioned this to Frank, he protested. He said, “No, no, Buddy, this guy is different.” I needed a keyboard for the date, so I went ahead and hired Tommy.
JW: How did it work out? BDF: That night, when we first played together, we clicked. Most accordion players, even the ones who claim to be jazz players, didn’t really know how to function in that space on a sophisticated level. Many could swing, but their voicings were fairly predictable. Tommy was different.
JW: How so? BDF: He was an experimental musician. He had a special accordion made with a row of bass line chords as well as root 7 and root 10 chords. That gave enormous depth to the bottom of what we were doing. Tommy had an ear for swing but also an unbelievable technique. He was very different from everyone else. He was technically advanced beyond most people on the instrument.
JW: Was the quartet always going to be about polytones? BDF: Yes, it was. Tommy and I had already been fiddling around with polytonal music on our own. So was Nelson Riddle. We were kind of gearing toward it. But instead of sticking with polytones—notes played in two different keys—we changed it to polychordal.
JW: What is polychordal? BDF: As I’m playing in one key, Tommy was playing unusual structures of chord progressions so it sounded like a different key. I was able to play along, traveling in any of the chord structures he put together. To the average ear, the joy is in the clash of these two keys. The result was a texture that sounded both off kilter and just right. A little messy but right on target.
JW: A dumb question—was Spud Murphy’s "equal interval system” related to what you were trying to achieve with Gumina? BDF: That’s not a dumb question at all. Spud’s system was indeed the beginning of that. Tommy and I—and Nelson Riddle—elaborated on it.
JW: How soon before you both realized you had a good thing going? BDF: Almost immediately. It was incredible. It was a combination of being able to swing and having knowledge of polychordal devices, being able to play with those upper-structure triads. With what we were doing, you had a basic chord and then two or three other chords placed above that structure.
JW: How could you play with such complexity and speed? BDF: What do you mean?
JW: The music sounds hard to play yet travels fast and never loses its swinging jazz feel. BDF: If you have an ear for it and a tendency to play that way, you wind up with a free feeling. We had an unlimited source of harmonies. To the average ear, you sense something sophisticated is going on but you can’t quite figure it out. Mind you, this had nothing to do with free jazz. We were playing within a structure.
JW: Is it fun to play clarinet with an accordion behind you? BDF: Fun?
JW: Yes. The instrument has such a rich personality, especially when it swings. BDF: Oh, my yes. The sound is full, like an organ, but it inhales and exhales, providing a thick base for me to operate from creatively. More important, with Tommy, he was doing complex things back there, which made the experience for me more challenging.
JW: And yet with the accordion, you must have been constantly walking a fine line between jazz and pop. BDF: That’s true, but it was never a concern. We were operating on a complex level. We never slipped into that obvious clarinet-accordion feel. And that’s probably why we never caught on [laughs]. People saw a clarinet and accordion and expected a very specific sound. What they got was much more challenging musically. Maybe 10 years earlier, what we were doing would have been more accepted. Instead, we were a bit too complex to catch on commercially.
JW: How would you two work together? BDF: Tommy always used his left hand to play root 7 and 10 chords, so we never lost the basis of the entire composition. He was so good he was able to function in two or three keys above that. I was playing in and out of upper-structure triads. The concept was to play freely, not contrived. He got the whole tonality thing.
JW: Did you work out the arrangements in advance? BDF: A lot of what we did was worked out, but it wasn’t contrived. One thing led naturally to the next. Tommy would get a bright idea and then I would pick up on it and develop it. Or sometimes I would play something that would bring him into another dimension. Everything always seemed to flow. We didn’t think about sticking to a rigid formula. We just did it. We both had an ear for tonality.
JW: And yet Decca took a chance and signed the group for its first album in 1960. BDF: At most of the record companies, the a&r guys bought what we did. They had ears and liked what we were developing. They saw how different it was.
JW:Spring Will Be a Little Late This Year from the Polytones LP is a particularly beautiful arrangement. BDF: That was basically Tommy’s arrangement. Tommy Dorsey used to say, “There’s a tempo for every song.” Tommy’s arrangement for Spring Will Be a Little Late This Year was taken at the perfect tempo. I had a good flair for polytonality, so I had fun on there. Tommy had an exceptional talent for understanding two or three tonalities at the same time, and you could hear it all on that song.
JW: Did the quartet tour? BDF: We toured quite a bit, all over the country. But it was hard to stay afloat financially. Many weeks Tommy had to go into his bank account to keep the group going. The audiences were so hard to predict. Sometimes we’d be in some obscure town and the club would be packed with people who’d jump up and down. In other towns, big ones, we’d play and get almost no reaction. We had our fans, though, even some fanatics, too. Movie composer David Raksin followed us around whenever we were in California. He loved us.
JW: Did you get bad requests? BDF: What do you mean?
JW: You know, like some drunk guy insisting you play Marie? BDF: [Laughs] Most of the time the requests were worse than Marie. Sometimes they’d ask for a Lawrence Welk song. Tommy had a little temper. Plenty of times I had to talk him out of throwing his accordion at them.
JW: Why did the group break up in 1964? BDF: We ran out of places to play. Rock and roll reared its ugly head. Theaters closed, clubs closed, radio programs folded. When the Beatles came from England and played, a true musician couldn’t believe it. It was impossible to fathom how that music was so popular and why it was putting so many great musicians out of work.
JW: Looking back, what do you think about this quartet? BDF: I still feel great about what we did. We had some pretty good times. Once in a while we’d hit it just right. Most of the club owners knew what they were buying when they hired us. They were mostly jazz clubs and the owners could relate to our experimentation.
JW: Which album was the high point? BDF: I like Polytones best. We really hit our stride on there.
JW: When you boil down Gumina’s playing, what was so appealing about it from your perspective? BDF: Tommy had a technique like Art Tatum's. That brush of notes energizes me. It was special, and for a player, exciting. It challenged me to try to new things, to take risks. It was both inspiring and competitive. That quartet was one of the highlights of my career. It’s still pleasing to the ear without selling out.
JazzWax tracks: Between 1960 and 1964, Buddy DeFranco and Tommy Gumina recorded five albums. They are: Pacific Standard Swingin' Time (1960), Presenting the Quartet (1961), Kaleidoscope (1962), Polytones (1963) and The Girl From Ipanema (1964).
My favorite is Presenting the Quartet. Unfortunately, none of the LPs has been released digitally, making the five albums a prime candidate for a Mosaic Select release. Some of these albums may be available at download sites.
JazzWax clip: Now would I write this long, enticing post without leaving you with a taste of what this brilliant group sounded like? Of course not. Here's Spring Will Be a Little Late This Year, from the quartet's Polytones LP. Dig the polychordal mashes of Buddy DeFranco and Tommy Gumina, that swell intoxicating tempo and the swirl down at the end...
Kenny Burrell appeared on nearly 600 jazz record dates between 1950 and 2008, which is an eyebrow raiser. One of the busiest session guitarists of the '50s, 60s and '70s, many of his jazz dates were sideman jobs. Burrell was a favorite of leaders for his chameleon-like ability to be groovy, soulful, bluesy, swinging or lounge, depending on what was needed and the mood at hand.
But given Burrell's prolific role as a rhythmic force on other artists' albums, it's rare that you get to hear him up close and away from the thicket of other instruments. Soul Call, recorded in April 1964 for Prestige, is one of those rare occurrences. His playing is so clear and undisturbed that you feel as though just the two of you are out for a lunch.
On Soul Call, Burrell is joined by pianist Will Davis, bassist Martin Rivera, drummer Bill English and conga player Ray Barretto [pictured]. The album was recorded just after Burrell appeared on Jimmy Heath's On the Trail and right before Jimmy Smith's The Cat. Soul Call is special because you wind up with a full understanding of what Burrell can do and why he's so special.
Stripped of saxophones, trumpets and other frontline instruments, Burrell's guitar is front and center. What you learn is that Burrell had a powerful conversational style that was different from many of his peers. Grant Green [pictured] also had this same ability to talk through the guitar without ever raising his voice.
Burrell here is soft and supple, switching back and forth between blues and standards. On the blues, he shows off a range of impressive skills, from the uptempo Mark 1 by Will Davis to the loping title track, a Burrell original. On standards like I'm a Lucky So and So and Here's That Rainy Day, Burrell teases out every bit of melodic joy and rolls the essence around and around with a rolling pin of thick chord voicings. Dig the chord run-down at the end of the latter.
Intensive one moment and introspective the next, Burrell could be highly dynamic. He also is plenty tasteful, never overplaying or strumming a chord that isn't meaningful. Every idea on this album had meaning, and he often let the top string ring like a bell for lingering effect.
What's evident as well is that Burrell early in the '60s had an instinctive sense of soul. His picking could be reflective and at other times Mad Hatter. Regardless of the single-note lines he ran, Burrell always enjoyed enhancing those ideas with a full-house of chords that had a deliciously metallic sound.
Burrell was able to sound as delicate as a piccolo or as mighty as a pickup truck. On Soul Call, you hear all of Burrell's many sides entwined in a single, robust statement. By the end of the album, you're sure to wind up with a very different impression of him.
JazzWax tracks: Kenny Burrell's Soul Call (Prestige) is available as a download at iTunes and here.
JazzWax clip:Here's Kenny Burrell's Kenny's Theme from Soul Call. Dig his swinging soul...
As Marcos Valle played and sang his original compositions on Friday night at Birdland, I realized what makes Valle superb: Once you get beyond his addictive melodies, you realize that his chord voicings are captivating. As he accompanied himself on the electric piano and played behind legendary Brazilian singer Wanda Sa and his wife, singer Patricia Alvi, Valle's chord structures and notes were two-handed orchestrations. [Photo by Philip Ryalls]
Jazz piano accompanists do this all the time, of course. Ultimately, what an accompanist bring to the party is taste—the notes and chord choices behind the singer. In the wrong hands, an accompaniment can be a train wreck. But when someone like Valle is filling the spaces, you feel great twice. Valle not only hits the notes you want to hear, he embellishes them with notes you didn't realize you wanted to hear.
Valle and his band—Jesse Sadoc (trumpet) Sergio Brandau (bass) Renato "Massa" Calmon (drums)—played about five originals before Wanda Sa came out and sang a few duets. Then Sa performed and sang alone. The high point of the set (and there were many) was a duet by just Valle and Sa on his ballad If You Went Away. You could hear a pin drop in the room. But as soon as the last note was played, Birdland erupted in thunderous applause. The power of simplicity rules.
On a personal note, before the set began, it was an honor to be singled out by producer Pat Philips [pictured] for my Wall Street Journal article on Valle earlier in the week. To hear one's name over the Birdland sound system is quite a treat, especially in a full house. Catching up with Valle and Sa backstage after the set was rewarding as well. Both artists are class acts.
Here's Sarah Vaughan singing Marcos Valle's If I Went Away, recorded in Rio in 1977...
Snooky Young (1919-2011), the Jimmie Lunceford and Count Basie trumpeter died on May 11 at age 92. Rather than tell you what you already know, let me honor the gallant horn man with this video here (by the way, that's Ronnell Bright on piano)...
Bob Flanigan (1926-2011), founder of the Four Freshmen, died May 16 in Las Vegas at age 84. At the group's start in the late 1940s, all of the Freshmen doubled on instruments. They appeared in short films at the time singing and playing in tight harmony, often on sets that featured coeds relaxing in college-dorm main rooms. Discovered by Stan Kenton, all four were Kenton fans and visualized their sounds as though they were a trombone section.
Throughout the 1950s, the Freshmen's popularity soared with the rise of college admissions and campus concerts. By the early 1960s, the group's savvy sound was adapted and updated by the Beach Boys, who went so far as to record Graduation Day, a Freshmen hit.
Flanigan played trombone and recorded several albums on the instrument. Among the best was Togetherness (1959), with guitarist John Gray.
Here are the Four Freshmen in Japan in 1964, with a fine trombone solo by Flanigan on the first song, Easy Street...
Hi-Lo's. While we're on the subject of hip vocal groups, here's a gem featuring Frank Sinatra and the Hi-Lo's. Based on this clip, it's truly a shame Sinatra and the Hi-Lo's didn't record together...
Jazz lives! JazzWax reader Gerardo Albatros sent along a link to a wonderful clip. It features a grade school jazz band rehearsing in Spain for a Spanish jazz festival. The two trumpet players are sisters, with the youngest, Elsa "Garrapata" Armengou, being six years old. (Garrapata is Spanish for "The Tick.") Go here, and dig the teacher's enthusiasm and his strategy to have students scat part of the song to get the swing and feel just right...
Depression, in living color. We tend to think of the American Depression of the 1930s as a black-and-white event. Like much of history before 1960, what we see in photos is far removed because they are not in color.
Now it seems the Library of Congress is making its bank of color images from the 1930s available online. Suddenly, those hard times seem like yesterday. These images will send a chill up your spine. Hats off to Wrecking Crew drummer Hal Blaine for sending this one along. Go here.
Buck Clayton radio. Today, Symphony Sid Gribetz is hosting a special five-hour show on trumpeter Buck Clayton. Sid will be on the air spinning Clayton platters from 2 to 7 p.m. (EDT) on New York's WKCR. You can listen on your computer from anywhere in the world by going here.
Bill Kirchner radio. Jazz musician Bill Kirchner will host Jazz From The Archives tonight—his 100th show. (Happy 100th, Bill!) Tonight, Bill focuses on his recordings—as player, composer-arranger and bandleader. The show airs tonight from 11 p.m. to midnight (EDT). You can listen on your computer from anywhere in the world by going here.
Latin Grammy protest. Today, at 1 p.m., artists, writers and musicians will gather at New York's Nuyorican Poets’ Café (236 East 3rd Street, 212 780-9386) to voice their protest about the recent announcement by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences to eliminate Latin Jazz from Grammy consideration. To listen to the press conference live on your computer from anywhere in the world (from 1 to 2 p.m.) go here.
CD discoveries over the week. Just before Bob Dylan left the established folk movement behind, giving up his Woody Guthrie sound and Pete Seeger short-sleeved shirts, he gave a concert at a college gymnasium near Boston in May 1963. The concert was professionally recorded and the tapes sat in critic Ralph J. Gleason's house for 48 years. A few weeks ago, Sony/Legacy released Bob Dylan In Concert: Brandeis University 1963, and the result is a fascinating trip back in time.
Dylan performed seven original songs at Brandeis and, somewhat amusingly, was part of a larger folk music show. Amusing because in a matter of weeks, he'd begin to change music history. Most of the originals Dylan chose to perform were rooted in social-justice and red-scare issues of years past. Despite having already written and recorded Blowin' in the Wind (his version would be released 17 days later), the song wasn't part of this bill. For whatever reason, Dylan chose quaint throwbacks rather than the rousing songs that would chart a new course.
Nevertheless, this CD remains a gentle document. For one, Dylan's singing is largely ego-less, focusing on his guitar- strumming skills, the power of his exaggerated hay-seed voice, and dagger-like lyrics. For another, the material is as tawny and pastoral as an unmowed field. There's a richness to this twilight moment, coming at the tail end of the '50s folk revival and just before he realized how to ignite the folk-rock decade. Without getting into too much analysis, Dylan forced rock to become more socially aware and and break from pop. To that end, this album serves as an entrance ramp to the '60s movement that would follow.
A friend of mine alerted me to the piano of Morten Ravn Hansen, who lives in Denmark. Having spent several weeks hitchhiking through the countryside of Denmark in 1979, I completely understand and relate to Morten's creative approach. On the three originals available as downloads, Morten plays a distinct style of jazz that is both bouncy and brooding. His originals remind me of the country's quiet scenery, temperamental skies and homemade jams. I lived on those preserves each time I was picked up and taken home to a driver's home for a full family lunch. In Denmark, there's a special kindness by strangers that doesn't exist anywhere else. At any rate, all of Denmark's spirit rests in the music of Morten's North Sails. You can sample the tracks and download them here.
Oddball album cover of the week. Before she was an esteemed poet, author and autobiographer Maya Angelou was a Calypso dance performer in San Francisco. This album from 1957 was her first. Next, Angelou appeared in an off-Broadway review that inspired the film Calypso Heat Wave, in which she sang and performed her own compositions. Tiring of the Calypso craze and eager to develop her gifts as a writer, Angelou relocated to New York, and the rest, as they say, is literary history.
Willy DeVille is all but forgotten today. Back in 1974, the singer- songwriter founded Mink DeVille, a punk-art band that recorded six albums between 1977 and 1985, all of them excellent. He recorded additional albums as Willy DeVille from 1987 until 2005. As I write in my Wall Street Journal review today (go here) of a new CD compilation due next Tuesday, DeVille was hardly your average CBGB tramp-stamped head-banger.
DeVille was unlike any other artist from the period. And yet he was an amalgamation of almost everyone who was someone. Put in perspective, the late DeVille was one of the most sophisticated and influential singer-songwriters in the years between disco and the British pop invasion of the early '80s. You can hear and see his influence in Culture Club, Human League and Tears for Fears.
Of course, Elvis Costello and David Byrne of the Talking Heads were hardly shrinking songwriter violets. But Costello was more of a limber traditionalist and Byrne a techno-futurist. DeVille, by contrast, was steeped in rock, R&B and soul of the late 1950s and early 1960s. More important, he had one of the great voices of the period, blending the styles of Bruce Springsteen, Van Morrison, Frank Zappa, Ben E. King, Eric Burdon and Joe Cocker.
DeVille's arrangements were equally fascinating, mashing motifs from that could include the Drifters, the Ronettes, the Temptations, Bob Dylan and Fats Domino. To the sophisticated listener, DeVille's music provides a field day of references, musical equivalents of those complex children's drawings in which images of axes, hats and dogs are hidden in the scenery.
DeVille also adapted three different stage personae over the years. Early on, he had the look of a flophouse manager, complete with pompadour and pencil-thin moustache. Next came the long-haired, vest-clad plantation owner. And finally, there was a Southwest, Zorro-pirate thing. But none of this was play-acting like many acts of the period. DeVille was really into it.
DeVille died of pancreatic cancer in 2009. A long-time heroin user, DeVille was a fascinating figure who never sold out and never gained traction in the States. But he was a subversive sensation in Europe and a fascinating rock figure. Perhaps his greatest claim to fame was writing and recording Storybook Love, the theme to The Princess Bride. His song was nominated for an Academy Award in 1987.
Strangely, DeVille's music remains ahead of its time today. In retrospect, this guy was one cool cad.
JazzWax tracks: Come a Little Bit Closer: The Best of Willy DeVille Live, compiled from performances between 1977 and 2005, will be available next Tuesday at iTunes and here.
All six of Mink DeVille's albums are fabulous. They are Mink Deville (1977), Return to Magenta (1978), Le Chat Bleu (1980), Coup de Grace (1981), Where Angels Fear to Tread (1983 and Sportin' Life (1985). And, of course, Willy DeVille's Miracle (1987) is a must.
JazzWax clips:Here's Willy DeVille performing Slow Drain, one of my favorites, in 1981 on German television.
Here'sVenus of Avenue D, performed in New York in 1980...
Upon his return to Rio in 1968 following an extended American tour, Marcos Valle began to record with a new confidence. His music also took on a more percussive and rock feel as Brazilian music changed and developed over the decades. But he also retained his knack for passionate ballads and spirited songs with catchy melodies.
In Part 3 of my three-part interview with Valle, the legendary singer-songwriter talks about his mentor Antonio Carlos Jobim, his rediscovery by young European and American club-goers in the '90s and why he sometimes wishes for rain:
JazzWax: So many people in America know your melodies but your name is still not as well known here as Antonio Carlos Jobim’s or Joao Gilberto’s. Looking back, do you wish you had moved to America? Marcos Valle: If I could go back in time, with the experience and confidence that I have today, I would have stayed longer in the U.S. beyond 1968. But back then, I was young and shy. The best thing for me then was to be in Rio.
JW: Were you accepted by Jobim, Gilberto and other first-generation bossa nova artists? MV: Jobim [pictured] was very nice to me. He had invited me to his home in Ipanema in 1962. At the time, Milton Miranda of Odeon records wanted Jobim to write the arrangements for my first album. I had just signed a five-year contract with the label, and Milton was over at Jobim’s house. Jobim had heard my songs and liked them very much. At his home, he said to his son Paulo, “Listen to the beautiful songs this young boy has written."
JW: What happened next? MV: Jobim asked if I had written out the songs. I told him I hadn’t. He asked me why not. I said I didn’t think I could. But Jobim knew that I had studied classical and that I was able to read music. He asked Milton Miranda to leave and had me stay.
JW: Why? MV: Jobim insisted on seeing me write my first song in his house. When Milton left, Jobim took me upstairs to his son’s room. He brought me music paper, a pencil and an eraser. Every so often he would come by and take a look at what I had written out, at times correcting me. And so I was able to do it . I never will forget that.
JW: Did you stay in touch with Jobim? MV: Oh, of course. Later, when Summer Samba became a big hit in the U.S., Jobim [pictured] told me what steps to take to capitalize on it. He was also my neighbor in Leblon, Brazil, where I lived with my family. He moved to the house just in front of ours. Sometimes we would call each other and ask, "Is your piano tuned?" Then we would choose the one that was in better condition and cross the street to play it.
JW: Did he hear Summer Samba? MV: Yes, I rehearsed it with him at his house, with Jobim at the piano and me on guitar. We were going to record an album of my songs but unfortunately it wasn’t to be. He died in 1994. I still love him and miss him today.
JW: How long have you known Wanda Sa, who is appearing with you at Birdland this week? MV: We started at virtually the same time in the early ‘60s. We would go the same clubs to play and sing. She’s very beautiful and sensual, with a whispering voice. She recorded her first record in 1963, as did I. Hers was released just a little before mine. She also recorded a song of mine called E Vem O Sol.
JW: She was off the scene for a while, yes? MV: Yes. After she married songwriter Edu Lobo, she stopped singing for a long time. Years later, after she was divorced, she returned to recording again. Since then, she has been my guest in shows that I have done in Europe, Australia, Singapore and Brazil. Wanda is an excellent singer and a good friend. She also plays an excellent guitar.
JW: How did you and your music change in the ‘70s, '80s and '90s? MV: I have had many influences. My style is a combination of Baião, traditional samba, jazz, pop, bossa nova, r&b and rock. Bossa nova was dominant in my early records. But in later recordings, other influences show up. Over time, my experience and maturity gradually gave me more confidence to write my own arrangements and to start producing or co-producing my records. I also enjoy performing live much more now.
JW: Your songs were among the first to be remixed for a more techno feel in the mid-'90s, yes? MV: Without my knowledge, disc jockeys in the U.K. discovered my music and started playing my old records in the clubs. My record, Samba ’68, was important for this. The deejays would play the original tracks and remix them to give them an audio lift. Gradually, disc jockeys in other countries started to do the same. Suddenly, I had a new, younger audience. Soon I was invited to appear in Europe and found a great young, energetic audience standing and cheering my songs. What a great experience.
JW: And then what? MV: After my old records were heard, they wanted new ones. The record labels in Europe started talking to me, and I chose FarOut Records, which was just being established by Joe Davis, a young British disc jockey who knew everything about my music . He was introduced to me by my talented friend, the singer known as Joyce.
JW: How does one write Brazilian music? Does it all start with a melody that pulls at the heart? MV: The inspiration comes from different sources. Something that moves you emotionally, like happiness, sadness, the sun, the slums, the suffering, the surf, love—especially love, because it involves everything. And you need to have love for your own music, to treat it well, as you would treat the person you love. I use one or other of these emotions when I write songs.
JW: Your new album, Estatica, is a dramatic work and highly cinematic in its build, yes? MV: Estatica shows me exactly as I feel at the moment now. Samba is very important, as is the Baião, which I use in three of the album’s songs. The psychedelic aspect of my music also is there, with the synthesizers as well as the grooves.
JW: What’s next? MV: A box of my ‘60s and ‘70s records will be released in Brazil by EMI in June. When it comes out, we will have different shows in Brazil promoting the set. After my shows at Birdland this week, we will begin to prepare for these shows. In August I will perform at European festivals, after which I will perform in Moscow, Miami and Montreal. At the end of the year, three records will be released that I recorded in the ‘80s. By then, I probably will be thinking about recording a new CD.
JW: How do you get any work done in a country as beautiful as Brazil? MV: Some days are indeed very difficult. I confess that when I am working on a new CD, I wish it was raining. But you get used to it. I live close to the beach, so I enjoy walking for an hour a day for exercise. Then I come back. Sometimes jump into the water. With this I am ready to work.
JazzWax tracks: I own 20 of Marcos Valle's albums. Each has a different mood and personality. And each contains melodic surprises and fascinating instrumental arrangements. His earliest recordings (Samba Demais, O Compositor e O Cantor, Braziliance! and Samba '68) are a must.
Then I would recommend Mustang cor de Sangue (1969), Garra (1971), Nova Bossa Nova (1997), Contrasts (2001), Jet Samba (2005) and Os Bossa Nova (2008) and Pagina Central (2009). All are gorgeous.
His most recent release, Estatica, is a terrific mix of bossa beats, electronics and samba. You'll find it at iTunes and here.
Another sensual gem is Eumir Deodato Plays Marcos Valle, featuring Deodato on the organ. The album appears to be out of print. Here's what it looks like if you can find it online or at download sites.
JazzWax clip:Here'sOs Dentes Brancos Do Mundo from Mustang cor de Sangue (1969)...
Here's a track from Eumir Deodato Plays Marcos Valle, one of my favorites...
And here'sPrefixo from Estatica, Marcos Valle's 2010 release...
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."
