Born in Inglewood, Calif., Zoot Sims was on the West Coast in 1970 for a string of Los Angeles gigs. One of those dates was at Donte's—a jazz club on Lankershim Blvd. in North Hollywood. Sims was accompanied by pianist Roger Kellaway, bassist Chuck Berghofer and drummer Larry Bunker.
JazzWax reader Jimi Mentis sent along this rare video of four tracks from the date. Produced by Jack Lewerke [pictured], a West Coast record entrepreneur, the film was made for Lewerke's company, Euro-Film Corp. My guess is that Euro-Film was in the business of creating pre-tour visual promotions to stimulate or support European bookings. But I'm not certain.
Everyone in jazz had to start somewhere. In the case of tenor saxophonist Hank Mobley, that start came in Newark, N.J. Though Mobley had recorded in April 1953 with Max Roach's sextet and quartet for Debut (a short-lived label founded by Roach, Charles Mingus and Mingus's then wife, Celia), Mobley wasn't recorded again until September 28, 1953.
The live Newark date in question was recorded at The Piccadilly Club and has just surfaced for the first time on Hank Mobley: Newark 1953 (Uptown). Recorded by Newark native Ozzie Cadena, who would join Savoy a year later as a producer, the sound is remarkably clean and the music highly informative. Here, we have a recording documenting Mobley's on-stage development and how he interacted with an established player—trombonist Bennie Green.
Mobley was joined on the date by artists who also were just starting out: pianist Walter Davis Jr., bassist Jimmy Schenck and drummer Charlie Persip. Only Green was already a seasoned player, having recorded with bands and ensembles for about nine years prior to this New Jersey gig. [Photo of Bennie Green above by Francis Wolff]
In the fall of 1953, Mobley was a year away from his first ensemble recording for Blue Note (Horace Silver Quintet Vol. 1/Nov. 1954) and two years from his first leadership date for the label (Hank Mobley Quartet/March 1955). As we can hear on this new CD, Mobley was already an agile force and a prolific one, having written three originals for his earlier date with Roach.
Mobley, Davis and Persip were already considered a working unit. According to the liner notes by Bob Blumenthal, Persip had been playing a series of R&B road dates months earlier, but whenever he'd return to New York, he'd reunite with Mobley and Davis to play bebop.
The Piccadilly Club was among Newark's most popular jazz venues at the time. In the entertainment pecking order, however, comedians were the bigger draw and often had the most pull. At the Piccadilly, Redd Foxx [pictured] was responsible for hiring Mobley, Davis, Persip and Schenck as the Piccadilly house band.
Foxx also brought stars to the club who would be backed by the house band. Leading artists hired by Foxx included J.J. Johnson and Sonny Criss. During one of the Foxx hunts, he convinced Green to swing by.
Green is easily the star of this date. Without his insistent tone and confident, fluid technique, this date would have been a lot duller and less polished. Green also calls the tunes and takes the first solo on most tracks, setting the pace.
As for Mobley, his sound was already in place, though his ability to navigate a solo was still a work in progress. Born in Eastman, GA, Mobley moved to Elizabeth, N.J., when he was young. Twenty-three years old at the time of this recording, Mobley exhibits a dry fluidity that would become his hallmark sound at Blue Note.
On Keen and Peachy, for example, we hear Mobley zip through the changes, pausing in places to think ahead. There's even a passing reference to My Lean Baby, which had been recorded by Illinois Jacquet a year earlier and Dinah Washington [pictured] in June—both versions would have been released on disc by the time this date was underway. [Photo of Dinah Washington by Herman Leonard Photography LLC]
Other uptempo tunes include Pennies From Heaven, Blues Is Green and 'S Wonderful, which best show-off Mobley and give us a chance to hear his early, serpentine approach.
What also is fascinating is that these aren't hardbop dates but straight-up bop sessions. Which is somewhat interesting, since Lou Donaldson and Clifford Brown had already ignited the new style in June for Blue Note.
In the years that followed, Blue Note's Alfred Lion would use Mobley as his house tenor saxophonist, pairing him with hard-bop groups and repeating his label's cookie-cutter formula over and over again. That Hank Mobley wasn't there yet. [Photo of Hank Mobley by Ted Williams/CTSImages]
In the fall of 1953, Mobley was still a relative innocent, finding his way and being schooled by artists like Green. Not until Lion brought him aboard did Mobley begin to show the full range of his possibilities. Nevertheless, this session provides us with a previously unheard glimpse of a tenor giant in waiting.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Hank Mobley: Newark 1953 at iTunes and Amazon here.
JazzWax clip: Here's Hank Mobley with Horace Silver Quintet a year after this recording...
By 1964, Chet Baker was damaged goods. The '50s had been a series of ego flights and emotional letdowns for the trumpeter. The vulnerable and naturally pretty look he had coolly projected at the start of the decade was lifted by Hollywood in the form of James Dean and Montgomery Clift. By 1958, Baker's sensitive-victim look was out, replaced by tough guys like Marlon Brando, Paul Newman and Burt Lancaster. Even jazz on the West Coast had lifted much of his moody, melodic style. Baker's temperament and disposition weren't helped by his drug addiction in the early '50s, which set Baker on a life-long crash course.
In late 1959 and 1960, Baker toured Italy and the rest of Europe, a trip that once again fired-up his ego. But his new-found fame and movie stardom led to cockiness and, eventually, to an arrest for drug smuggling and forgery. The result was two years in an Italian prison (he had been sentenced to three).
Upon his release in 1962, Baker began touring Europe again, recording extensively in Italy. After exhausting all commercial possibilities there and likely eager to resume his drug habit without having to wheedle pills in Europe and risk a longer prison stretch, Baker returned to the U.S. in 1964, winding up first in New York.
Upon his return, Baker recorded The Most Important Jazz Album of 1964-65 for Colpix, his first U.S. studio date in five years. On the session, Baker played flugelhorn and sang on two tracks. The results were sublime. He was joined on the date by Phil Urso (ts,cl), Hal Galper (p), Jymie Merritt (b) and Charlie Rice (d). Many of the arrangements were by Tadd Dameron and Jimmy Mundy.
What makes this recording special is Baker's lyricism and musical maturity on pure jazz songs. His solos, phrasing and intonation are all deeply profound, while his ideas are clear and mellow. How he managed to retain such beauty and clarity given his reckless self-abuse is baffling.
By taking on serious works like Dameron's [pictured above] Soultrane, Tadd's Delight, Gnid, Mating Call and Whatever Possessed Me, Baker displays enormous tenderness and sensitivity for the material. He even delivers a vocal on Walkin'—lyrics by Quincy Jones:
Love is quite the joker
He likes to have his fun
He sets you down in clover
Till he wins you over
Then suddlenly leaves you flat
Just like that, here's your hat
Start walkin'
For some reason, Phil Urso [pictured above] never received the proper amount of credit for being a perfect musical foil for Baker's sound. Urso could swing smartly, and his lines and tone were gritty, hefty and tasteful. Unfortunately, the pair also were heroin-mates, visiting 157th St. in Harlem together often to score.
Pianist Galper is another forgotten artist of great merit, contributing two originals—Retsim B. (for Baker, not Billy Eckstine) and Margarine. On Whatever Possessed Me, we hear Urso play clarinet while Baker sings. Positively gorgeous.
Jimmy Mundy, in addition to arranging Gnid and Soultrane also scored Duke Jordan's Flight to Jordan and Ann, Wonderful One.
When this album was recorded in May 1964, Baker was an emotional, drug-dependent wreck, already at the start of his long decline of no return. But during the months that preceded this session, his playing was among his finest jazz works from a patient, expressive standpoint.
There really isn't a bad note or throwaway line on his 1964 album, and Baker's tone is pure honey. How this was possible given his emotional state will always remain one of life's great mysteries.
JazzWax tracks: You can find Chet Baker's The Most Important Jazz Album of 1964-65 at Amazon.
JazzWax notes: James Gavin's distinct and haunting biography of Chet Baker, Deep in a Dream, can be found here.
My interview with Phil Urso's brother, Joe, can be found here.
Jazzwax clip: Here's Chet Baker playing Tadd's Delight. Dig Phil Urso's Coltrane-esque solo, setting up Baker's tender reading...
On Friday, the Jazz Journalists Association announced the nominees for its 2012 JJA Jazz Awards. I'm happy to tell you we're up for three of them:
1. The Helen Dance-Robert Palmer Award/For Writing in the Year 2011—Marc Myers writes on jazz for The Wall Street Journal and blogs daily at JazzWax.com, on which he has conducted more than 300 multipart interviews with jazz, rock, and R&B musicians and has posted commentary on rare and contemporary recordings. JazzWax is syndicated by Jazz.FM91 (Toronto) and by All About Jazz.
2. Blog of the Year "Jazz Wax" (Marc Myers)
3. Best Liner Notes of the Year Marc Myers—Wes Montgomery: Movin', The Complete Verve Recordings (Hip-O Select). Marc Myers—Ella in Japan (Hip-O Select).
The winners will be announced on June 20. Fingers crossed!
Janis Joplin. On Friday, my review of Janis Joplin's The Pearl Sessions (Legacy) appeared on the Wall Street Journal's Speakeasy blog site (go here). The twin-CD set is due on Tuesday. There are nine previously unreleased tracks and insightful studio banter, providing a refined look at a hard-working artist who was on the verge of using her voice for wooing instead of welding.
Hal McKusick. Following my post on the late saxophonist, readers wanted a sense of Hal's speaking voice, which I referred to in my tribute. Here's a clip of Hal explaining what jazz is (if you click and it says "this video is private," click here)...
And here's a mini-doc on Hal filmed in 2008 by Alexandra Fairweather, a student at the Ross School in East Hampton, N.Y., where Hal taught for many years...
Roy Haynes. Bret Primack was on the scene with his video camera at the 2012 Mid-Atlantic Jazz Festival when drummer Roy Haynes was being interviewed...
Jack Tracy, who died in December 2010, was a famed producer for Mercury, Argo, Limelight, Liberty and Chess. He recorded Dizzy Gillespie, Sarah Vaughan, Roland Kirk, Oscar Peterson, Cannonball Adderley, John Coltrane and many others. Jack also was a huge fan of JazzWax and spoke with me at length for my upcoming book, Why Jazz Happened. [Jack Tracy with Woody Herman]
Last week, I received the following from Jack's son Tim:
"Before my Dad passed away, I would bring him up to the very top of my property on the border of Washington state and Canada. He would hang out with me while I did my chores—cutting the grass, clearing brush, trimming branches and so on. There was a little spot where he could sit and nap while looking out over a beautiful vista, listening to all the music he loved and enjoyed so much. Picture a shiny bald head and iPod earbuds!
"Anyway, one day he said, 'I think I'm about as close to heaven as I can get right here! When I'm gone, build a cement bench right here with my ashes mixed in.'
"Last July, Dad's family built that bench [pictured]. And a pole is there to proudly display his flag from the Navy. We had a wonderful day of stories, music, memories, food, laughs and tears. His family and friends also had a chance to sit a spell with Jack on that bench. His granddaughters also were able to 'sit in Grampa's lap' before heading back to college.
"Once again, thanks for remembering Dad and for including him in your book and at JazzWax."
Terry Teachout. Terry had a rough week. The Louis Armstrong biographer, Wall Street Journal theater critic, opera librettist and good pal informed me that he won a Guggenheim Fellowship for 2012. It will be used to support the completion of Mood Indigo, his biography-in-progress of Duke Ellington.
And if that wasn't enough, he emailed soon after with more good news: The Letter, his first operatic collaboration with Paul Moravec, will receive its New York premiere in February 2013.
As many of you know, this blog exists because back in 2007 Terry insisted. Way to go Terry!
Dick Carr. If you dig the big bands, pop vocals, jazz and stories from the great days of radio, dig Dick Carr's blog, Big Bands, Ballads and Blues. A lot of history and experience there.
Glee and Saturday Night Fever. Normally I don't weigh-in on TV shows, but this is an exception. On Glee (Tuesday, April 17, on Fox at 8 p.m., EST), the show will put on Saturday Night Glee-ver, a tribute to the 1977 soundtrack.
On Friday, I was treated to an advance copy of the music and was blown away. Sounds a lot like the original, but with massive production improvements. Finally, I understand the words! The soundtrack will be available on April 17. Listen here.
CD discoveries of the week. Wayne Escoffery's The Only Son of One (Sunnyside) has a supremely delicious '70s feel, complete with acoustic and electronic instruments. Tenor and soprano saxophonist Escoffery not only penned the album's songs (he splits the credit with Orrin Evans on Two Souls), he has a take-charge soulful sound that is impossible to ignore. For me, this is easily one of the most exciting and important saxophone albums of the year. Hats off to Evans on piano and Fender Rhodes, and Adam Holzman on synthesizers. If you attended college in the '70s, this album will hit you like Friday afternoons after classes back at the dorm in front of your turntable. Sample any track to have your breath taken away.
Slipstream (Redwing), Bonnie Raitt's first album in seven years, is like a kid who can't sit still. The singer-guitarist delves into Southern soul, reggae, midnight blues, rural-route ballads, Country pop, rockers and femme folk. But this Whitman's sampler provides plenty of Raitt's signature yearning. The album opens with a funky Used to Rule the World and ends with a gorgeous duet between Raitt and pianist Patrick Warren. A sincere working of wisely chosen songs delivered with fields of attitude.
I have a huge crush on Kat Edmonson's voice. It's often compared to Billie Holiday's or Blossom Dearie's on helium—but that's not really fair. On Way Down Low (Red General), the singer's off-beat intonation and kite-flying vulnerability are on fine display. The Texas-native has superb jazz instincts and sets moods splendidly, leaving miles of space that allow your heart in. On this album, she aces several well-known songs that are pretty tough to sing. I don't think I've ever heard a finer rendition of Brian Wilson and Tony Asher's I Just Wasn't Made for These Times. Same goes for Whispering Grass, Nobody Knows That and What Else Can I Do. Listen for yourself.
Harmonica player Hendrik Meurkens can't help himself. Each of his recent albums has exhibited enormous taste, often with a bossa beat. On Celebrando (Zoho), he's joined by bassist Gabriel Espinosa, clarinetist Anat Cohen and many other superb instrumentalists who add enormous lift and breezy elegance to the tracks. Four are by Meurkens and four are by Espinosa, with other originals mixed in. But be sure to catch Alison Wedding's vocals, which beautifully weave in and out of melodies. A fine spring-fever chaser.
Singer-pianist Daryl Sherman is a mischief-maker. An unabashed lover of the American Songbook, Daryl takes on 13 Cole Porter tunes on Mississippi Belle(Audiophile), many of which are offbeat sleepers. Among the left-field Porters are Ours, Use Your Imagination, Looking at You, the title track and Where Have You Been? Interestingly, it's through these tunes that Porter is revived as a masterful lyricist, since we may be hearing these for the first time. This is a gorgeously simple album, with Daryl working passionately though the material without drifting into cabaret-land. Oh, almost forgot: Daryl's piano playing and voicings? They're the top.
The beach pre-dates the Beach Boys by millions of years. The beach-party movie does, too—but by just a year or two. Starting roughly with Gidget (1959) and Where the Boys Are (1960), sand and saltwater became the stuff of summer romance and freedom from prying parents. One of the genre's hottest male stars was Frankie Avalon. Today, the name conjures up mindless film plots, washboard abs and dim girls. But in truth, Avalon had a superb, warm voice back then. Thankfully, Muscle Beach Party (Real Gone Music) has just been issued, combining Avalon's beach tracks with serious crooning—both for United Artists in the early '60s. It's a perfect marriage. Sample Again, which unites both themes warmly. This has all the feel of Coppertone and an amusement park at dusk.
Oddball album cover of the week. Many media denizens in the early 1950s believed that radio and records were doomed as TV sets began flying off store shelves. But what the smart crowd missed was that TV required all of your attention while recorded music could be used as background for a range of activities. Including shirking household chores for a shot at emphysema.
Hal McKusick, an East Coast jazz saxophonist, composer and arranger whose seductively smooth sound, tireless work ethic and flawless technique were admired by Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Clark Terry, Art Farmer, Johnny Mandel and every other musician he worked with since the early 1940s, died on April 10 of complications from a fractured hip. He was 87.
If all that you owned were the albums Hal recorded, you would have a sizable chunk of post-war jazz history. Though other jazz musicians appeared on more dates (Hal clocks in at 233 known sessions), few sidemen could rival the sheer number of significant recordings. Starting with Les Brown in 1943, Hal recorded with many of the most challenging bands of the decade—including Boyd Raeburn, Alvino Rey, Buddy Rich, Ralph Burns, George Handy, Tom Talbert, Claude Thornhill and Neal Hefti.
In the 1950s, Hal continued his band career with Elliot Lawrence, Bill Harris, Al Cohn, Quincy Jones, Ernie Wilkins, Gene Krupa, Manny Albam and many others. With the widespread adoption of the 33 1/3 LP in the early 1950s and growing demand by labels for inventive small groups, Hal again wound up on some of the most dynamic sessions—as a sideman and leader. His output in 1956 alone is daunting (go here). His recollections of recording with Charlie Parker in 1953 can be found here.
What distinguished Hal—in bands and groups—was his sound on the alto saxophone. Hal recorded on virtually all reed instruments and the flute, but the alto was his primary horn. Starting in the late 1940s, he pioneered a lighter, dryer tone —without sacrificing the aggression or inventiveness needed to hold the knowing ear.
His technique minimized vibrato and leaned on lyrical phrasing and the instrument's higher register, resulting in an appealing, wistful lightness. This approach wasn't lost on Paul Desmond, Lee Konitz and other cool masters of the instrument during the era.
Hal brought virtuosity to everything he did, including his many hobbies. Hal was one of those guys who bothered only if he could go all the way. In the 1970s, he became a pilot and flew to gigs, eventually earning a nice payday ferrying passengers down to St. Barts in the Caribbean, an island with one of the region's most difficult and treacherous runways.
As a woodworker, Hal crafted bowls, tables and cupboards in his workshop out back for clients, perfecting the craft's techniques by reading books. He also was a superb photographer, taking candids of many of the artists he played with, including Bill Evans, whose portrait sat over his piano in his studio.
On a personal note, Hal's passing leaves me with a particularly heavy heart. We spoke by email or phone almost weekly. Hal was the second jazz legend I interviewed for this site (baritone saxophonist Danny Bank was the first), and he is probably the source I turned to most for details and insights about other artists and jazz events.
I had known about Hal since the 1970s, after hearing Cross-Section Saxes (1958). When I started JazzWax in the summer of 2007, I decided to start calling musicians I admired most for interviews. Many of my favorites weren't necessarily well-known. Instead, they were major players to me because they appeared on my favorite albums. I could hear what they were doing, and it was special. Hal was at the top of my list of desired interview subjects and, if I recall correctly, Rob Rusch, founder of Cadence magazine, pointed me in the right direction.
My multipart interview with Hal in October 2007 was done in the dark. Hal insisted I call him back so he could sit in his studio with the lights out, to better recall the events of his past. The result was a colorful, honest recitation of his career, giving readers a sense of his start and his life-long devotion to jazz.
Over time, the increasing frequency of our conversations drew us close, with Hal taking on the role of mentor and father-figure. He'd frequently call when he sensed from my blog that I was over-working, which was almost always the case.
"Hey, man, you're doing amazing things," Hal would say in that smooth, knowing voice of his. "But are you doing too much? Are you sure? I've been there, and you're there now. I know you can't help it. But pace it, and keep it cool."
Few artists I've interviewed have said the word "cool" as delightfully as Hal—as if he had invented the word. The middle of the word was extended ever-so-slightly but never to the point of ridicule. Just enough so that saying the word "cool" was truly cool.
Most days we'd talk late in the afternoon, after he finished giving a grateful high-schooler a lesson. There was something about talking to Hal on the phone that was similar to sitting in front of a fireplace. The sessions were relaxing, educational and hugely rewarding for me. Like many musicians, Hal sounded like he played—his voice was melodic and relaxed.
Last December, he asked me to come out to Sag Harbor. His lovely wife Jan was away with family, and he was looking for some musical company. "Come out. We'll just hang and listen to music." Neck-deep in writing assignments and my book, and just days from a trip to Venice, I couldn't pull away.
"Hal, I wish I could, but I'm tied three different ways," I said.
"I know. Would be fun, but I know you're busy," he said. "Keep doing what you're doing. You've made a big difference. You're preserving the music, and what you've done for the musicians is great. You won't realize how important your work has been until years from now."
Now, of course, I'm sorry I didn't drop what I was doing and spend the day out there. Nevertheless, Hal's voice remains in my head, urging me on, and his passion for doing a solid job is still awe-inspiring and a part of my own drive.
Hal has been a solid mentor, an inspiration, a kind soul and a very cool cat. But cool—the way Hal would say it.
JazzWax tracks: I have nearly all of Hal's recordings. So let me give you a list of 10 starter albums that are essential listening to fully appreciate the beauty of his playing and his artistry:
Easy Coast Jazz Vol. 8 (1955)
Terry Gibbs: Vibes on Velvet (1955)
In a 20th Century Drawing Room (1955)
Manhattan Jazz Septet (1956)
George Russell: Jazz Workshop (1956)
Hal McKusick: Jazz Workshop (1956)
Jazz at the Academy (1956)
Jazz Cornucopia (1957)
Triple Exposure (1957)
Cross-Section Saxes (1958)
JazzWax clips: Here's Hal on Minor Matters, from East Coast Jazz...
In the late 1950s, Liverpool was thick with home-grown poets, writers and artists who revered American beat poets and painters. But because of Liverpool's geographic isolation from the main of England and Liverpudlians' fast, snappy brand of humor, the approach came with a wicked wit. And still does, based on my most recent trip to the city for The Wall Street Journal (go here) and stay at the Hope Street Hotel (more below).
Back in the early '60s, a serious intellect combined with an irreverent sense of humor typically resulted in what we now refer to as Pop, a social-mocking movement that started in England in the mid-1950s. Pop sensibilities ran through much of the arts in Liverpool—from sculpture and poetry to painting and music.
But there was another trait that distinguished Liverpudlians—indefatigable charm. Unlike most other cities' bohemias, where artists and writers tended to be highly educated, brooding, dark folk, Liverpudlians had a less grim view of the world. Their optimism came from an appreciation of life, a bright sense of tomorrow and a dread of not being more special than the next guy or gal in some way. They also had plenty of will and fortitude, since most teens came from lower-income households. [Pictured above: Liverpudlian Cilla Black]
One of the few eyewitnesses and participants in several of Liverpool's arts cliques in the early '60s was Mike McCartney. Not only was his brother Paul a rising talent who played the local clubs, but Mike also was part of the flourishing improv community that intersected with the poets and musicians.
"The humor here is sharp but it isn't meant to be a put-down," Mike said. "You heard it for the first time at Kennedy Airport when the Beatles arrived and held a press conference. To your ear, their flip answers may have seemed rude. But that wasn't their goal at all. That kind of humor is a reflex here. Everyone has it. It's used to test your agility and cleverness."
Liverpudlian humor also is applied fast and without warning. I had several opportunities to experience the humor and to put it to good use. On one of the days, I bought a sandwich at a supermarket. When I asked the checkout girl if she had a napkin, she said, "Sorry, we only have large packages for sale." I said, "That's OK, I'll use the back of my coat, as usual." Without missing a beat, she said, "That's great. Just be sure to turn it inside out first." Think of the brand of humor as a form of Ping-Pong meant to see if one is up-to-snuff. If you visit, be sure to bring your A-game.
On the day Mike and I were scheduled to meet, he drove up in a black VW Touareg. He hopped out and walked toward me. "MM?" he said," to which I replied, "MM, how are you?" We both laughed at sharing the same initials. Then Mike took me on a driving tour of the city.
Our first stop was just up Hope Street—at the "Inny" (Liverpool Institute High School for Boys) where Paul and Mike went to school. Next door was the Liverpool College of Art school that John Lennon had attended. Mike grew quiet.
"When our mother died in October 1956, me, Our Kid and our father were in shock." ("Our Kid" is a Liverpudlian phrase for a sibling). "Even though John [Lennon] went to a different school and was older, Paul and John grew close after his own mother was killed in 1958 by a police car. Paul was enthralled with him and made a big fuss when he brought him over after school for the first time." [Photo above of John Lennon at the McCartney home in 1962 by Mike McCartney]
Though Mike's drumming days were over after his arm was injured at scout camp, he became an avid photographer and music fan, often combining the two. Mike documented the early Merseybeat scene when Paul, John, George, Pete Best and all the rest were just coming up. Mike is planning a definitive Liverpool photography book.
Mike also showed me where he worked as a sales apprentice at Jacksons the Tailors and then as a hairdresser at Andre Bernard's. "From up there," he said, pointing to where the salon had been on Ranelagh Street [pictured], "I could see Our Kid unloading parcels from lorries at Lewis’s Department Store, George Harrison working as an apprentice electrician at Blacklers next door, and Brian Epstein’s brother Clive across the street at a tiny NEMS music store.”
We visited the Museum of Liverpool, where Mike's exhibit of 30 celebrity photos was being held. "Back in December, Queen Elizabeth came to see the museum, and I had the honor of escorting her through my images," Mike said. "Along the way she remarked that she liked one of my portraits. I said to her with a smile, 'I'd be happy to take your portrait—special price.' Well, she gave me this fun look, and I could tell she has a wonderful, playful sense of humor"
We also drove past the site where the Hope Hall Cinema had stood. It's now being rebuilt. But back in 1962, there was a warren of rooms in the basement that served as Liverpool's Greenwich Village. “There were happenings there—poets reading to audiences, and the like," Mike said. "That’s where I began doing comedy improv."
Within months, Mike, Mike McGough (pronounced Mc-GUFF) and John Gorman formed a group that put melodies to their poems and improvised stories around them. They called themselves the Liverpool One Fat Lady, All Electric Show. "One Fat Lady" is a nickname for the 8 in bingo.
Though somewhat whimsical, the Liverpool poetry movement was special. Known as the Merseysound, poets took on everything and anything, flexibly raising topics. Poets included Adrian Henri, Roger McGough, Brian Patten, John Gorman, Heather Holden, Spike Hawkins, Pete Brown and others.
When the Beatles arrived in the U.S. in 1964 and quickly became a pop phenomenon, Liverpool's status soared in Britain. Long thought of as England's lower set, teens throughout the country began to affect a Liverpudlian accent. Regional television swept into Liverpool and signed Mike, McGough and Gorman to perform comic improv skits weekly. "It was a risk to quit our jobs and give it a go, but we all did," Mike said.
Clearly, the trio had to change the group's impossible name. "Everyone loved Miles Davis, and we were big fans of Lift to the Scaffold, the 1958 French film soundtrack that you called Elevator to the Gallows," Mike said. "It was all very existential—a scaffold that held a gallows. Wow. So we called ourselves The Scaffold."
Next came what used to be Paradise Street and is now part of the outdoor shopping mall known as Liverpool One. Across the way was a facade adorned by a large spread eagle. "There's the Eagle Pub [pictured], where American soldiers congregated during World War II," Mike said about the now-vacant space. "Me mates and I were in there one day and I decided I needed a pseudonym for a last name. McFab was a bit over the top but McGear was inside enough that it worked."
Mike did not want to appear to be riding his brother's coattails. In 1965, George Martin produced a Scaffold single with 2 Days Monday and 3 Blind Jelly Fish. The trio also toured as comic relief for Manfred Mann and the Yardbirds.
By June 1967, with Sgt. Pepper complete and released, Paul decided to produce an album for Mike and McGough. Called McGough & McGear, the album featured poetry, drinking songs and a range of other English Music Hall fare. The album opens with the sound of surf, making one wonder whether The Who leveraged the idea for Quadrophenia in 1973.
On McGough & McGear, Mike did the singing and McGough did the narrating. "I couldn't play an instrument well enough to record: I played the tape recorder," Mike said. "I'd take what I wanted and then play it for the musicians."
Those musicians happened to be friends of Paul's who were in London at the time. The "studio" musicians included Graham Nash, John Mayall, Spencer Davis, Dave Mason and Jimi Hendrix.
"I asked Our Kid who the guitarist was going to be for a session," Mike said. "He told me Jimi Hendrix. So I went out and bought food and drink—an entire bar. I expected an entourage. But when the bell at the studio rang, it was just Jimi, saying he was there for the session.
“Jimi played his solo on the first take and it was far out. Our Kid and I were in the control booth, and he asked me what I thought. I told him it was a bit too far out. Our Kid told me to go in the studio and tell him and show him what I wanted.
"So I went in and sat with Jimi on the floor during the next take, tapping his knee to tell him when to play. After, when Our Kid played back the track for me and asked which take I liked, I told him the first one. Our Kid told me I had made a good choice. But when I asked for the first take, the engineer had erased it to make room for the next take. I learned a valuable lesson that day.”
In 1967, the Scaffold recorded Thank U Very Much, which was written by Mr. McCartney after he phoned his brother to thank him for the Nikon F 35mm camera he received as a holiday gift. The song reached No. 4. "I heard that it was the Queen Mother's favorite song—the family used to sing it together, stopping to let the Queen Mother sing one specific line: 'Thank you for our gracious Queen." I didn't have the heart to tell them that the line was "Thank you very much for our gracious team"—the Liverpool soccer team.
In 1968, the group recorded Lily the Pink, which whimsied-up a drinking song poking fun at Lydia Pinkham's Medicinal Compound, an American patent medicine. The song hit number 1 twice. "Soon after it was released in December, it went to No. 1," Mike said. "Then it dropped slightly in the charts. But mothers had bought their children NEMS gift certificates, so after Christmas, they all ran out and bought Lily the Pink with their gifts, sending it back to No. 1." [In video below, from left, Mike McCartney, John Gorman and Roger McGough]
Next, Mike recorded two solo albums—Woman in 1972 and McGear in 1974, on which he was backed by Paul McCartney & Wings.
That night, over dinner, we talked about Mike's photography books and how unfortunate it was that they were out-of-print. That's when he told me about the definitive Liverpool photo book he was planning that will tell the story of the arts scene there—and will feature his previously unpublished images of the Beatles before fame swept them away.
Thanks, Mike, for showing a New Yawker a good time.
JazzWax travel tip: If you happen to find yourself drawn to Liverpool, I heartily recommend the Hope Street Hotel. The staff was as cheery as a music box, and the restaurant was positively sublime. That latter was and is chef Paul Askew's doing [pictured above].
JazzWax Note: For more on Mike McCartney, go here. You can follow him on Twitter at Mike McCartney @_MikeMcCartney_. Watch those underscores! His Twitter has this picture.
JazzWax tracks: You will find the newly re-issued McGough & McGear (Real Gone Music) here, Womanhere and McGearhere. On the cover of Woman, that's an image of Mike and Paul McCartney's mother in her nurse's headgear, not a nun.
JazzWax clips:Here's Mike McCartney talking recently about his exhibit at the Museum of Liverpool...
Here's the Beatles' All You Need Is Love. Mike pop up at 1:06, at the shin of his brother Paul...
And here's Paul McCartney's video for Let 'Em In, from 1976, featuring black-and-white photos by Brother Michael...
Most people are unaware that Paul McCartney has a younger brother. That's because since the early 1960s, Mike McCartney [pictured above] has done a noble job of avoiding any temptation to cash in on his brother's fame. Which is pretty classy, as celebrity siblings go. As I write in today's Wall Street Journal (go here or pick up a copy), Mike is an artist in his own right.
Mike has always been a photographer, but back in the '60s and '70s, he also was a comic improv artist and singer, recording several albums and hit singles. To avoid any appearance of riding his brother's coattails, Mike created a stage name—Mike McGear. In Liverpool in the early '60s, when something was fabulous, it was called "the gear," as in, "Wow, that shirt is the gear." While Paul left Liverpool with the Beatles in the mid-'60s, Mike remained in town—raising a family, photographing the city and performing.
Mind you, many people in Britain back then were well aware that Mike was Paul's brother. But by changing his last name for performance purposes, Mike made it clear he was going to make a go of things on his own, without his brother's whoosh.
When I traveled to Liverpool several weeks ago to spend the day with Mike for the Wall Street Journal, I asked him about this. "It was just the right thing to do—you don't ride on someone else's back. It doesn't look right here if you do. It's part of our do-it-yourself heritage."
Mike also said something else that still rings in my head: "You have to understand, Liverpool was the Brooklyn of Britain back in the early 1960s." Pre-Beatles, Liverpool was the poor relative of England, largely because of its hard accent and perceived lack of class.
In researching Mike and Liverpool prior to heading over, I learned quite a few things about the city's vibrant arts scene 50 years ago that I didn't know. I'll share more of my adventures and discovery tomorrow. For now, grab a copy of the Wall Street Journal.
JazzWax clip: Here's a brief documentary on Liverpool...
Jazz in 1959 and 1960 was so crowded with extraordinary talent that you can spend years discovering albums and artists from these years who are completely new to you. It's like looking for fossils in Utah—move the sand with your foot, and you're likely to uncover a dinosaur bone. One hidden-gem album from these magnificent years is Lenny McBrowne's Eastern Lights.
Recorded in 1960 for Riverside, the album featured Don Sleet (tp) [pictured], Daniel Jackson (ts) Terry Trotter (p) Jimmy Bond (b) and Lenny McBrowne (d). The pure delight of this tight-knit quintet is rooted in the upbeat and melodic originals by Daniel Jackson and the tasteful playing of soloists Sleet, Jackson, Trotter and McBrowne.
McBrowne had a delicate touch on the drums and recorded with Billie Holiday, Tony Scott and Bill Evans, Paul Bley, Fred Katz, Harold Land and Sonny Stitt before forming this quintet. It's puzzling that this fine group recorded only two albums (the other was Lenny McBrowne and the Four Souls for Pacific Jazz in the fall of 1959). These were McBrowne's only leadership sessions, and his last known recording came in 1976.
What's special about Eastern Lights is that the music sounds like a West Coast group's interpretation of hard bop. There's a sunny optimism here without an over-saturation of drums or extended solos. At the same time, there isn't a West Coast cliche to be found. All of the horn lines are smartly framed and the soloists retain a tight grip on intensity. [Pictured: Recent photo of Daniel Jackson]
Interestingly, four of the five musicians were from the West Coast (Bond was from Philadelphia), and all but one of the compositions were by tenor saxophonist Daniel Jackson, a brilliant composer whose name is little-known today. Jackson's harmonic touch was perhaps closest to Elmo Hope's.
In addition to Jackson's smoky blowing is the ever-tasteful and crisp trumpet work of Don Sleet, who died way too young. For more on Don Sleet, go here and here.
Also a delight is pianist Terry Trotter, whose playing is gentle-handed and on time. Dig his gorgeous solo on Like Someone in Love. In later years, Trotter became a studio musician and wrote the Everybody Loves Raymond theme.
Bond went on to become a Wrecking Crew bassist. As for McBrowne, catch his solo on I Don't Know the Melody.
JazzWax tracks: Both Lenny McBrowne and the Four Soulsand Eastern Lights are available on one CD—Lenny McBrowne: Complete Recordings (Fresh Sound). Go here.
JazzWax clip: Here's Lenny McBrowne and the Four Souls playing Dearly Beloved from the Pacific Jazz release, featuring the same group, except Herbie Lewis is on bass, and Elmo Hope arranged this one...
Where is jazz headed and who is leading the charge into exciting new territory? Readers of this blog know that this year I've already mentioned Robert Glasper, Terri Lyne Carrington, and Geri Allen as producing exciting new recordings that quilt numerous forms, allowing their music to retain a traditional feel while integrating the contemporary. Another exciting artist breaking new ground—but coming at jazz from a Latin perspective, is saxophonist Yosvany Terry [pictured above, photo by Przemek Wozny]
On his new release, Today's Opinon (Criss Cross), Terry plays alto, soprano and chekere (a percussion instrument). He's joined by Michael Rodriguez (tp), Osmany Paredes (p), Yunior Terry (b) Obed Calvaire (d) and Pedro Martinez (perc,vcl)—with Gonzalo Rubalcaba (keyboards) on Son Contemporaneo.
What makes this album special is how Terry delicately weaves Cuban influences with hard bop, fusion and avant-garde themes—creating a restless, shaken mix with a pointed feel. Fortunately, the album never settles into any one jazz style, nor does it succumb to the lure of endless Latin-jazz rhythms. It's an honest and fair merger, the result of which is something new and different. Terry truly combines forms while allowing the listener to feel the artist's message.
All of the tracks except Suzanne were composed by Terry. Suzanne was composed by Marcio B. A and Yunior Terry. This album is Yosvany Terry's second as a leader.
Terry is originally from Cuba and has been living in New York since 1999. He is a lecturer at Princeton, a faculty member at New York's New School University and the Harlem School of the Arts, and has been a resident instructor at Stanford Jazz Workshop at Stanford University since 1995.
To hear the album's dynamic approach, sample Summer Relief, Son Contemporaneo and Harlem Matinee. A spirited blend of old and new—without sounding like one or the other.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Yosvany Terry's Today's Opinionat Amazon. For more on Terry, go here.
JazzWax clip: This clip of Subversive isn't on Terry's new album—it's from 2006. But it will give you a taste of his approach...
And here's Terry last year in Buenos Aires, Argentina, with his Afrocaribbean Quintet. Dig how he merges avant-garde jazz with Latin rhythms...
Are we almost done with the social networking thing yet? Like many of you, I Tweet and Facebook daily because I understand that these are digital universes where millions of people congregate. As you know, part of my mission is to let everyone on the planet know about JazzWax (be sure to tell your friends). So Tweeting and Facebooking once a day is sort of a must. [Pictured above, Shay by Laura Pannack, 2010]
What I don't get is how some people are able to find time in their schedules to e-chatter all day long. I'm also puzzled by others who are convinced that strangers truly want to know their every thought and sneeze, and that they believe their personal reports are actually entertaining.
Einstein said everything dies eventually—unless its value continues to increase over time. Actually, he didn't say that, I did. But if he had, Einstein would illustrate the point by saying that Google's value is increasing—you need information throughout the day so you continue to use it. Or that Amazon's value is clear—when you want to shop, you continue to go there to evaluate prices and buy. [Pictured above, Man with Straw Hat by Saul Leiter, c. 1955]
But the gimmick known as social networks—where people merely yammer, complain and reflect sardonically—surely must have a term limit. The entire process of communicating to no one in particular on these sites has become, for lack of a better word, dull.
As far as I can tell, Facebook seems close to reaching its tipping point—and just as it's planning to go public. There have been so many bad design changes at Facebook, each one worse than the next. Functionally, it's so convoluted, counter-intuitive and creaky that I often take a pass.
Twitter isn't too far behind—though its enforced brevity and appetite for compressed literary wise-assery make it slightly more entertaining and valuable.
One more thing: I'm noticing that fewer people older than age 40 are bothering with Facebook. Young college graduates also seem to be posting less often. Those new to the workforce are finding they have less time than in college to keep up with their 50,000 friends and have moved on. [Illustration above by Saul Steinberg]
I could be completely off-base here, but the novelty of social networking seems to be wearing thin, and Facebook in particular seems played.
The World of Henry Orient. I've always been a fan of this odd film, largely because it features lots of shots of New York in 1963-4. If you also love this film, you'll enjoy John Colapinto's piece in The New Yorker, in which he tracks down the teenage stars. Go here.
Ella and Frank. JazzWax reader and Sharp Nine Records founder Marc Edelman sent along this clip of Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra. Hard to know why Fitzgerald was so routinely cast as a sad sack in televised duets—or why someone thought having Sinatra sing uncomfortably rude lyrics to her would be a hoot. But hey, that's entertainment...
Carmen McRae. Singer Carol Sloane [pictured, right] remembers singer Carmen McRae, as only Carol can. Go here.
CD discoveries of the week. Here's another terrific CD in the Legends Live series: Cannonball Adderley Quintet at Liederhalle Stuttgart (JazzHaus) recorded live in March 1969. The Adderley group—with Adderley on alto sax, his brother Nat on trumpet, Joe Zawinul on keyboards, Victor Gaskin on bass and Roy McCurdy on drums—was at the height of its jazz-soul prowess. Tracks include Why Am I Treated So Bad, Work Song and The Painted Desert. And the fidelity, like all of the albums in this series, is spectacular.
If you love Toots Thielemans, you'll dig Yesterday & Today (Out of the Blue). This new two-CD set features rare tracks recorded between 1946 and 2001. A life-spanning look at the famed Belgian guitarist, harmonica-player and whistler places him in nearly every type of setting. Early guitar tracks are bop originals, followed by work with George Shearing, Hank Jones, Urbie Green, Al Cohn and Zoot Sims, and often on harmonica. All of the swinging tracks were selected by producer and Thielemans' friend Cees Schrama, who hunted for material that's hard or impossible to find. Thielemans' uncanny understanding of the American jazz idiom and his ability to engage the listener without succumbing to mawkish nostalgia is unrivaled. Sample Early Autumn, from 1958.
To understand the roots of the British Invasion, a good place to start is the traditional jazz and blues movements in England in the 1950s. One of Britain's most revered trad jazz trombonists and bassists is Chris Barber, who will soon turn 82. On Memories of My Trip (Proper) a two-CD set, Barber is heard in many settings, from the early 1960s until 2010. He's teamed with everyone from Eric Clapton and Van Morrison to Edmond Hall and James Cotton. In the years pre-dating the Invasion, American blues artists crossed the Atlantic to tour in the '50s and early '60s and often were teamed with British musicians, Barber among them. Sample Kansas City, featuring Barber with Muddy Waters and Pinetop Perkins.
Maggie and Terre Roche were and are talented roots-folk sisters who had the misfortune of recording just as the market was saturated with female singer-songwriters. Their 1975 Columbia album Seductive Reasoning (Real Gone Music) has just been reissued, and the gentle, plaintive music holds up well. While the sisters didn't have the urgency of Joni Mitchell, the gospel bang of Laura Nyro, or the polished veneer of Carly Simon, their voices here were pure, and Maggie's songs were lyrical and meaningful. The pair, of course, went on to join their sister Suzzy to become The Roches. The album was recorded with the Muscle Shoals Rhythm Section down in Alabama. On If you Empty Out All Your Pockets You Could Not Make the Change they were joined by Paul Simon. Once forgotten but now unforgettable.
I guess you could call New World Beat's After Carnival (COM) a smooth-jazz recording, but applying such a label might be a tad unfair. With the merging of Richard Sprince's vibes and Matt Vashlishan's soprano and alto saxes, there's a cool, bouncy vibe to this one that goes beyond the music that often accompanies pictures of the Caribbean at YouTube. The band is from Miami and here focuses on Brazil. Sample It's Not Far. For when your head needs a break.
Oddball album cover of the week. I'm not sure why Jack Jones covered Carly Simon's theme to The Spy Who Loved Me in the late '70s or why it required him to be placed on a raft-sized island on the waterfront of a major city. But there you have it. To make matters worse, this was a disco album—and an awful one at that. I kid you not.
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."
