JazzWax

Interview: Louis Hayes (Part 3)

In 1960, when drummer Philly Joe Jones was asked by jazz writer and critic Ralph J. Gleason for the name of his favorite drummer, Jones answered "Louis Hayes." Just 21 years old at the time, Louis had just ended a three-year stay with the Horace Silver Quintet to join the Cannonball Adderley Quintet. The parting was amicable, and the reason for the change, Silver said in his autobiography, was money. Silver paid all of his sidemen the same amount, and if one received more, others would soon be asking for the same.

Louis' albums and performances with Silver not only gave the drummer greater visibility but also put him in the upper echelon of the jazz world. Louis also had enormous influence over other drummers at the time, many of whom began de-emphasizing the thud of the bass drum in favor of the conversational cymbals, high-hat and snare. Louis' support was by no means light. His solos were carefully constructed.

In Part 3 of my three-part interview with Louis on his Horace Silver Quintet years, the drummer talks about his emergence as a major force on the drums, his approach on the instrument and working with Silver:

JazzWax: No one ever told you that you were doing a great job in the Horace Silver Quintet?
Louis Hayes: People were coming to me and saying these different things. When you’re accepted by your peers, people like Miles Davis and John Coltrane, you know you’re doing just fine. If the phone rings for work, that says it all [laughs]. Back then, you were measured by how often you got work and by the friends you were associating with. If certain people wanted you around, you were on a special level.

JW: What made hard bop stand out?
LH: To a point, the drummers. Drummers like Philly Joe Jones, Roy Brooks, Art Taylor and Art Blakey. That’s who I was around at the time. I never sat down and tried to analyze it. For me, the beat just came out of my body. I was aware of r&b and learned to play it in Detroit but I didn’t play in r&b bands. I loved jazz too much. Motown Records obviously didn’t start until years later, but the elements were all being formed in Detroit when I was coming up in the early 1950s. In the thick of things, I learned how to play back beats and shuffles and Latin rhythms and mixed them into jazz. That's the hard bop sound.

JW: Who taught you the r&b beats?
LH: Clarence Stamp, my cousin. All of those rhythmic patterns were new at the time. I learned them as a kid. By the time I left Detroit, I knew how to play them with brushes, mallets, sticks—everything. When Horace wrote Senor Blues, I didn’t think about how I was going to come up with a way to play that. It was just something that happened based on my experiences and by my responding naturally to how the tune went.

JW: Did Silver ever write out a drum part for you?
LH: No, he didn’t have to. But I knew how to read music. My cousin had taught me. Everyone else in the group would have a part at first, though. I came up with the drum parts on my own.

JW: What did other musicians say when they heard your drum figures?
LH: Musicians would come up to me and ask, “Did Horace write that out? How did you put that together?” I’d tell them, “Of course not.” When this is your art, you just know what, when and how. It becomes a way of speaking.

JW: Did Silver like to rehearse the quintet?
LH: Horace rehearsed more than Cannonball Adderley did after I joined his quintet in 1959. Horace rehearsed often so the group was always compatible. Some of the things we played the first time were a little difficult and odd. Like The Outlaw on Further Explorations in 1958.

JW: No sheet music?
LH: Not at all. I learned the music in my head. I knew how the tune went, every inch of it. Only then can you create. I have the ability to listen and know instinctively what to play. I’ve had drummers ask me, “How did you play The Outlaw?” See, to me, it was just a thing. I had a format in my head and had worked it out. You have to know songs cold so you can make something out of them and do things that aren’t there.

JW: When you were in Silver's group, who in the quintet did you listen to most while you were playing for inspiration?
LH: I listened to everyone. But at certain times, someone might play something that grabbed my attention and I’d decide to go a different way from what I was thinking. When you play the drums, you can adapt to each soloist’s personality. I didn’t really try to accompany anyone. They have to follow me. You have two choices on any tune. You can accompany whoever is soloing or you can take charge and have them feed off of what you’re doing.

JW: But Silver’s percussive left hand had to be somewhat inspirational, no?
LH: Oh, yes, sure. Horace to me was such a unique pianist. His direction, the way he accompanied and the way he soloed. When you are fortunate to have the ability to sound different than most people, that is a real gift. Horace sounded different than most pianists. Listening to the way he constructed his solos and accompanied someone was so special. He played a major role in the way I played. I was listening mostly to his rhythmic patterns more than the melody. Those patterns were strong and made it comfortable for me to play a certain way and find my voice.

JW: How did those patterns make you comfortable?
LH: Horace played in a way that was so busy, with so much time and rhythm and bounce going on. That helped me get stronger as a drummer, to raise my game and to take more creative risks. But there were no empty spaces. You had to be on the go and thinking the entire time. His playing was about excitement and that made the group stronger and more powerful.

JW: What about the horns?
LH: Horace wrote them tight. There were no head charts. Horace wrote interludes and had whole compositions written out for the horns. When Horace wrote something, you knew immediately it was his. He had that tight snap and harmonies that hooked you.

JW: Did Art Blakey ever comment on your playing?
LH: Not to me directly. I know that he felt very good about me, though, and liked what I was doing. And he always wished me the best. I know his playing had an effect on mine. Each drummer who plays well has something that’s unique. Art  [pictured] could give arrangements a personal rhythmic touch better than anyone. You could put on a record of his and there would be no mistaking who was playing the drums. He put his stamp on everything he played.

JW: Did his overall style influence you?
LH: I never felt like trying to play like anyone else. That was too hard. But I did like little things that I heard by Art but also Buddy Rich, Gene Krupa and others. Gene once gave me a cymbal as a gift.

JW: No kidding?
LH: Seriously. When you’re in the company of these people, they look and watch and listen to you. Everyone wants to know what everyone else is doing. When you’re accepted by the best, it’s an amazing thing. The Horace Silver Quintet could hold its own with any group. Knowing that made me very comfortable.

JazzWax tracks: Louis Hayes first album as a leader was Louis Hayes Featuring Yusef Lateef and Nat Adderley (1960) for Vee-Jay Records. Rounding out the quintet were Barry Harris on piano and Sam Jones on bass. The hard bop ensemble recorded originals by Yusef, Cannonball Adderley, Barry Harris and Nat Adderley. This is a terrific album. Louis unleashes a range of terse, commanding and inventive figures but never overplays. You'll find this album at iTunes and here.

JazzWax clip: Here's all you need to know about Louis Hayes. This is from a European tour by the Cannonball Adderley Quintet in 1963...

Interview: Louis Hayes (Part 2)

The more you listen to recordings by the Horace Silver Quintet in the 1950s, the more you realize that the group had two drummers: Silver's funky, rhythmic left hand on piano and Louis Hayes' sticks. As they played together, Silver and Hayes tended to feed off each other. Both kept time, but each tried to throw the other off with a double-time beat here, a cymbal shot there. Silver and Hayes together established an incredible groove, offering up a surging beat that was never static or dull. And the combined feel was the envy of many leaders at the time, including Miles Davis.

Unlike most drummers of the period, Louis didn't have a heavy hand. Instead, he focused on creating an unpredictable spray of patterns that often came as a surprise to those in the group. And that was the point. The magic of the Horace Silver Quintet rested in its harmonic riffs, tightly arranged horns and unpredictable and exotic beat-keeping. 

In Part 2 of my three-part interview, Louis talks about joining the Horace Silver Quintet in 1956 and his interactions with the composer-pianist:

JazzWax: When did you come to New York?
Louis Hayes: I had always wanted to be in New York. It was a dream. But I was too young in the early 1950s to just pick up and say, “I’m moving to New York.” In 1956, bassist Doug Watkins [pictured], who had moved to New York and was with Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, returned to Detroit for some reason. We played together at a club in Detroit one night, and he encouraged me to make the move. Soon after Doug returned to New York, the original Messengers broke up. Horace left, taking Doug with him, and Doug recommended me and trombonist Curtis Fuller. I moved to New York in 1956.

JW: Where did you live when you arrived in New York?
LH: At first I lived at the Hotel Alvin on 52d St. near Broadway. Horace put me up there. Then I lived on 85th St. between West End Ave. and Riverside Drive. Then Curtis and I moved to 101st St. between West End and Riverside.

JW: How did you Silver bring you into his quintet?
LH: While I was still living at home in Detroit, the phone rang. When I answered it, the voice at the other end said, “This is Horace Silver.” I thought it was a buddy of mine playing a joke. Horace had to convince me it was really him [laughs]. When I finally realized it was really Horace, he asked me if I wanted to join his quintet. Of course, I did. But it wasn’t a done deal. He wanted me to come to New York to see how I’d work out with the group.

JW: What did you do when you hung up?
LH: I told my mother and father. My father wasn’t too aware of those guys. He was the kind of person who was leery of me leaving home to live so far away.

JW: And your mother?
LH: She was different. She was straight ahead. She said, “Louis can handle it.” So I planned to leave for New York. That’s when my father bought me a new set of drums. When I got off the train in New York, Horace was there to meet me. I had my drums, and he grabbed a few things and took me to the Hotel Alvin, which overlooked Birdland. [Photo by William Claxton]

JW: How did you learn Silver's songs?
LH: Horace gave me these different records to listen to, including the one Horace and the Jazz Messengers had recorded for Columbia. There were certain tunes that he wanted me to hear. What wasn’t on record he played for me up at his apartment in the 70s, on the Upper West Side. He was a composition writer, meaning there were no vamp sections—everything was written out. Horace was a gentleman and a nice guy. I was very comfortable with him.

JW: Did he give you direction?
LH: Horace never told me what to play or how to play it. He never said anything like that. He’d play things for me on his baby grand, and I’d listen and pick it up. Also, we always played gigs and rehearsed at Nola’s Studio in New York before recording anything, so I knew the songs cold by the time they appeared on recordings. I always got warm with Horace’s music first.

JW: How old were you when you joined the group?
LH: I was 19. I wasn’t too concerned about fitting in, though. I wasn’t nervous.

JW: Why not?
LH: When I came up in Detroit, it was a place where musicians’ level of playing was high. I had already been around people who had played very well. New York definitely was a step up. For sure, there were major players in New York. But in Detroit, Yusef Lateef's [pictured] group was pretty tight. When guys came from New York to Detroit to jam, they’d have to deal with those guys—Yusef, Paul Chambers, and so on.

JW: But 19 is still pretty young.
LH: Oh, sure. I still had room to grow in New York but I wasn't green. There’s hardly anyone who came to New York and could play on a high level right away. It’s a process. But that’s true of anything. If you decide to be a lawyer, you have to do it for a while and be around people who can do it better than you to you grow. Eventually, your mind grows and you develop.

JW: Did you and Silver discuss the music or your playing?
LH: No. We never really discussed things. You know inside right away if something is working or not. You really don’t have to be told by anyone that things are working. The gigs just kept coming so I knew I was alright. Things weren’t always perfect. There were times when I played with a more comfortable feel than at other times.

JazzWax tracks: Louis Hayes recorded six albums with the Horace Silver Quintet: 6 Pieces of Silver, The Stylings of Silver, Further Explorations, Finger Poppin', Live at Newport '58 and Blowin' the Blues Away. All have been remastered and are available at iTunes and other online retailers.

JazzWax clip: Here's Louis Hayes on Mellow D from the Horace Silver Quintet's Finger Poppin'. Again, train your ears on the drums and listen hard to what Louis is doing here. Silver's left hand assumes the role of the bass drum, with Louis adding high-hat and cymbal figures in the most unexpected places...

Interview: Louis Hayes (Part 1)

During the hard bop era of the 1950s and early 1960s, the Horace Silver Quintet was the most sublime expression of the movement. While Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers and the Clifford Brown-Max Roach Quintet certainly were spectacular ensembles, what both groups lacked was Silver's spirited writing, arranging and verve. From the summer of 1956 until late 1959, when he was lured away by Cannonball Adderley, Louis Hayes was the quintet's drummer. [Photo by Lena Adasheva]

Though not technically the quintet's first drummer (that honor belongs to Kenny Clarke and Art Taylor), Louis did the most to shape the group's jittery-aggressive style, fortifying and complementing Silver's hypnotic, funky piano patterns. Unlike Blakey, whose drum work packed the punch of a cattle drive, Louis was more delicate, delivering a madhouse of intricate rhythms with a lighter touch. To understand how Louis revolutionized hard bop drumming, just listen to any of his six albums with Silver.

In Part 1 of my three-part interview with Louis on his Horace Silver period, the 73-year-old hard bop drummer talks about growing up in Detroit and coming to music at an early age:

JazzWax: What was Detroit like growing up in the 1940s?
Louis Hayes: My father was the one who interested me and my cousin Clarence Stamp in music. My cousin was a drummer. He would have been a drummer of note had he continued. He was 10 years older than I was. I’m the only student he ever had. He could read music well and he taught me how to play the drums. My cousin was responsible for the way I’ve always thought when playing with a group. He said, “If anything goes wrong in the band, it’s your fault. As a drummer, you have control of the group.” [Pictured: Detroit in the 1940s]

JW: What did your father do for a living?
LH: He worked at Ford Motor. He also played drums and piano, and gigged for a time in Detroit. But then he just played when he was at home. A piano was pretty much in everyone’s home before TV. So I started out playing piano. But my father’s drums were always there, all set up. One day when I was about 8 years old, I began playing with them, and my father gave me a little drum pad to practice on.

JW: What was it about the drums?
LH: I don’t know. The drums were just enjoyable to play. The piano was a chore. With the drums, no one had to tell me to practice. My father could see early that I could do certain things on there and was impressed. But he didn’t want me to play for a living. He knew how hard music was as a way to earn money, especially with all the competition in Detroit.

JW: Did you listen to records?
LH: Absolutely. Kenny Clarke [pictured], Max Roach and all the big bands then. My father was listening to them, so I had access to the records. He listened to music all the time. He had the kind of record player you wound up and put the needle on.

JW: Did your mother enjoy music?
LH: Very much so. My mother was very religious and played piano. She’d take me to church, and I’d experience the choirs. Those emotional, spiritual feelings in the church played an important role shaping me as an artist. My mom used to take me to some churches where the choir was so strong you couldn’t help but get the feeling.

JW: Why did you choose jazz?
LH: I was around r&b quite a bit, but I always was drawn to jazz. I loved listening to Charlie Parker, and I paid close attention to the way he built his solos and his ability to play his instrument at that level. My cousin taught me how the drums needed to be played so you’d always know you were in tune and in step with everyone else.

JW: Meaning that you had to know the song’s lyrics and melody as well as the tempo?
LH: Exactly. You have to know the tune cold, so when you accent with the sticks or brushes, it’s coming in just the right places. I listened carefully to tunes and knew all the chord changes.

JW: But if a song is new to you, how do you figure out what to play on the drums?
LH: You can develop an ability to hear whatever amount of  bars and chord changes are in a tune. You have to feel it in your head.

JW: Did you play in groups as a teen?
LH: When I was growing up, there were a lot of young musicians in Detroit who could play on a high level. Many of my friends were like this. So we'd get together at our homes to play.

JW: Did you play in high school?
LH: At first, the jazz groups didn’t let me in. Each city had its jazz cliques. In Detroit in the late 1940s, you had Kenny Burrell, Barry Harris, Tommy Flanagan, Elvin Jones, Yusef Lateef and others. I had my own compadres but I wasn’t on the level of those other guys. But I kept working and pushing.

JW: Did you ever feel discouraged?
LH: Never. I always knew I was going to make a mark one day. But I was afraid to play around those older guys. At first I didn’t want them to know I played music or drums. I had an ego, which is important, and didn't want it crushed. Detroit was a place where musicians constantly challenged each other. Me and my buddies would go to different clubs to watch the musicians on their jobs, as though we were just going to listen. Then when musicians weren’t cutting it, we’d take their jobs [laughs]. That built our confidence without putting our egos on the spot.

JW: You eventually played locally with Yusef Lateef and Curtis Fuller.
LH: That was when I was 18. I knew Yusef, but he wasn’t aware of me. After I auditioned for him, he came to my house to tell me I had the job. But, he said, “I’m going to give you six-week trial period.”

JW: What did you say?
LH: Fantastic. The only problem was that I would be playing at Klein's Show Bar, and you were supposed to be 21 to do that. I was only 18.

JW: What happened?
LH: No one paid any attention to my age, and we had a marvelous time. I learned to be professional there. With Yusef, we played four and five days a week, and the musicians were older. You either grow to that level fast or you didn’t make it.

JW: Was that your first professional job?
LH: No. I had started a group at age 15 playing for money, but we played in teenage clubs where alcohol wasn't served and younger people could come and listen.

JW: Whose drums did you use on those early gigs?
LH: My dad’s. He had a Slingerland set, and it was good. I had everything a young person would need on that kit—even things that were square [laughs].

JW: Like what?
LH: Things that drummers used in 20s and 30s, like skull heads and woodblocks, that I thought were antique. So I didn’t keep them. I should have, though. I used the set until I was 17. Then my dad bought me a new kit, another Slingerland set.

JW: How did your job with Yusef work out?
LH: I lost it. The manager at Klein’s Show Bar eventually found out I was 18, not 21.

JazzWax clip: To understand Louis Hayes' brilliance, dig what he does on the drums to build tension on How Did It Happen from Horace Silver's Blowin' the Blues Away (1959). Check out the fanfare intro by the horns and catch exactly where Hayes comes in at different points. Try not to be distracted by the horns—focus solely on the drums. Replay the clip a few times if necessary to hear the intro. Wild, right?...

Gary Burton on His New Quartet

Late last week I caught up with vibraphonist Gary Burton to chat about his new quartet, featuring guitarist Julian Lage. The group will be making its club debut tomorrow night through Sunday at New York's Blue Note before heading off to Europe. Gary taught himself to play the vibes at age six. After high school he came to the attention of saxophonist Boots Randolph, who took him to Nashville and introduced him to Hank Garland, Floyd Cramer and Chet Atkins. [Pictured: Gary Burton and Julian Lage]

Over the course of Gary's career, the four-mallet vibist has recorded with a range of artists, including George Shearing, Stan Getz, Chick Corea and Pat Metheny. Gary also was an early pioneer of jazz-rock fusion in 1967.

During my conversation with Gary, 67, he talks about why he formed his new quartet and sheds light on his star guitarist:

JazzWax: Why form a new quartet?
Gary Burton: I haven’t had my own band for a bunch of years. My last group was a band I formed after I left my post at the Berklee College of Music in Boston in 2004. 

JW: But why now?
GB: I wanted to form a group around guitarist Julian Lage and me. When I left Berklee, I formed a group made up of Berklee students and spent three years touring. Then in 2006 [pianist] Chick Corea and I took a year and a half to tour as a duet. Since 2008 I’ve toured with Chick and [guitarist] Pat Metheny, and I've played on artists’ special projects.

JW: So it was time?
GB: Yes. I wanted to get something going that was steadier and would give me a little more artistic control. I liked the idea of playing with Julian, even though he had formed his own band. I also love playing with drummer Antonio Sanchez, who was on my Quartet Live CD from 2007, and bassist Scott Colley. So this is something of an all-star group.

JW: Do you plan to tour extensively?
GB: Yes but not constantly. After the Blue Note run this week, we plan to play two weeks in Europe, record an album and then take the month of July to play all the European festivals.

JW: Why do you tour so often in Europe?
GB: Audiences there are more consistent. They’re accustomed to hearing live jazz, and more venues there host jazz concerts and festivals. In the summer, virtually every town in Europe has its own jazz festival. It’s quite remarkable.

JW: What kind of material will you be playing?
GB: Our repertoire will consist of about a dozen new songs. We’ve rehearsed a bit already and played two gigs over the summer at the Red Sea Jazz Festival in Israel. There are new songs by Julian; pianist Vadim Neselovskyi, who was in my last band; a tune from Antonio Sanchez; Chick sent me a tune; we’re doing Light Blue by Thelonious Monk, and a song by pianist Makoto Ozone.

JW: How’s the sound?
GB: We won’t be breaking any new ground in terms of composition or style. But the material is modern, tuneful and lyrical. What’s different are the seasoned players and how we play off each other.

JW: Are you excited?
GB: Very. After going through this period of guesting on other musicians’ projects and albums, this feels more comfortable. I was beginning to miss my own thing.

JW: What do you mean?
GB: As the leader, I get to pick the instrumentation and the players rather than leaders choosing me. I also get to pick the tunes. When I played with Chick, we both chose the tunes, but we tended to choose from his originals. They’re great, of course, but I didn’t have a lot of input. My own group gives me more freedom.

JW: Tell me about Julian, who recorded with you in 2003 and 2004.
GB: Julian is definitely a star. I’ve known him since he was 12. He’s 21 years old now. I first saw him on a Grammy telecast years ago, and he soloed all of 20 seconds. But I knew immediately that this kid was really playing. Then a few years ago I was a presenter at the annual TED conference, which features speakers from the worlds of technology, entertainment and design. I asked Julian to join me, and we performed a couple of tunes together.

JW: How did he do?
GB: He so impressed me during those performances that I invited him to do gigs with me. He made his first record with me, Generations [2003], at age 15. Next Generation was recorded a year later. Julian also is a mature composure, which is unusual for a young musician. From that point on we started touring together.

JW: What did he do about high school and college?
GB: He didn’t go to regular high school. His parents recognized his early talent and provided him with tutors. He managed to finish high school and went on to Berklee. As a player, he's extremely melodic and his sound is well shaped, with tremendous facility on the guitar

JW: What sets him apart?
GB: Julian has found a niche for himself that’s all his own. He brings together an interesting mix of country, jazz and folk. He put off recording as a leader, even though he had record companies chasing after him. Then in 2008 he recorded Sounding Point, which was nominated for a Grammy last year. I think you’re going to enjoy him this week at the Blue Note.

JazzWax clip: Here's Julian Lage backstage at this year's Montreux Jazz Festival...

Gary Burton on John Gray

Yesterday, in my post on trombonist Bob Flanigan and guitarist John Gray, I wondered what became of Gray. A large gap exists in his discography between 1947 and 1956, and his recording career ends abruptly in 1968. Curious, I reached out to vibist Gary Burton [pictured], who played with Gray in George Shearing's quintet in the early 1960s.

But first, a little background from the liner notes of The New Wave (1962), John Gray's only leadership date:

"George Shearing was organizing a West Coast tour for Concerts Inc. during the early part of 1962, and he asked Herb Ellis [pictured] to come along. Ellis had prior commitments so had to decline, but he recommended his friend and fellow guitarist, John Gray. John was auditioned and immediately engaged as a member of the Shearing Quintet for the tour.

"And that brings us to the above mentioned 'clue' to this 'New Wave' in guitar playing: John is quick to acknowledge his longtime admiration for, and indebtedness to, George Shearing's piano style and harmonic ideas.

"As John puts it, 'I seem to think along the same line with Shearing harmonically. He hits my ear better than the far-out players, though I appreciate what they do.' "

John Gray recorded with Shearing from 1963 to 1965, the same period as Gary Burton. Yesterday, I asked Gary about Gray:

"Wow, John Gray. I only met him the day of our concert recording in Santa Monica in 1963 [pictured]. I had just joined Shearing's band a couple of weeks earlier, and it surprised me that when George decided to record the band in concert that he didn't want to use Ron Anthony, the guitarist in the band.

"Instead he brought in John who had to read the pieces and figure out how to blend in with the ensemble all in one rehearsal before the gig that night. I thought it was kind of an insult to Ron, actually.  Ron was quite a decent player, a very good sight-reader, and he already knew all the material.

"But, George seemed to think Ron [pictured] was somehow not up to his standards. With George, there was never much soloing anyway. The rule was you only got to play one 32-bar chorus of a tune, so your solo would last all of about 30 seconds. And no one soloed on ballads except George. Frankly, any guitarist could have covered the guitar solos on George's band.

"I enjoyed playing with Ron during the year with Shearing, and was pleased to learn that some years later he became part of Frank Sinatra's back-up group, along with the bassist Gene Cherico, who also was with Shearing at that time. 

"But John Gray is one of those mystery figures who made a few records, and then gradually faded from view. He would be in his late 70's now if he's still around."

I also asked bassist and personal manager John Levy about Gray. John managed both George Shearing and Nancy Wilson:

"I don't specifically recall John Gray playing with George Shearing in the early 1960s. I do recall him recording with Nancy, and I was very impressed with his playing. I tried to find him on several occasions after the Nancy Wilson dates, but I was not able to find him. It seemed like he retired from the music business."

The mystery of John Gray continues...

JazzWax clip: Here's Nancy Wilson singing I Left My Heart in San Francisco in 1964 with John Gray on guitar, from Today, Tomorrow, Forever...

Interview: Clark Terry (Part 2)

What makes Clark Terry more special than dozens of other trumpet and flugelhorn players? Many newcomers to jazz ask that question when listening to Clark's recordings. Rather than provide the answer, I decided to call saxophone legend Hal McKusick last evening for an insider's perspective. Hal first recorded with Clark in 1956 in a big band Quincy Jones assembled for a series of Dinah Washington sessions for Mercury and EmArcy. Hal and Clark have played together in bands and groups ever since.

Here's how Hal put it:

"Clark is special because he plays effortlessly with a beautiful sound—always swinging, always thoughtful and 
always playful. It's his attack, his ability to tell a story in such a beautiful way and not repeat himself night after night. What's more, he plays efforlessly in the upper registser as well as the lower register, in both cases with a big, fat sound. [Pictured: Clark Terry and Hal McKusick]

"His approach was to really be with the guys in whatever band he was playing. He plays with you in a supportive way, and he's right there for you. He also has this uncanny way of attracting audiences to what he's doing, largely through his whimsical sense of humor. He's funny, but always modest about himself.

"As a player, Clark doesn't move much. Like Billie Holiday, Clark doesn't have to gyrate to get the sound he wants or to swing and express himself. It all comes out of his horn."

In Part 2 of my two-part conversation with Clark last Friday, the legendary trumpeter and flugelhornist talked about Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, Norma Carson and the first time he recorded on the flugelhorn:

JazzWax: What did you think of the music you were playing in Duke Ellington’s band?
Clark Terry: The music was beautiful. It wasn’t easy to play. It was very, very difficult—both from how the music developed and the emotion you had to bring to what you were playing. What’s more, Duke was a taskmaster. He wanted things to be a certain way. So he would rehearse the band over and over.

JW: How did he treat the band?
CT: He was the type of person who liked to surround himself with top-quality talent, and he had complete confidence in them, which gave you confidence. He never gave you a hard time. He just demanded that you do the right thing.

JW: And if someone didn’t?
CT: You’d be replaced [laughs]. I used to call him “maestro.” I loved Duke’s whole book of arrangements. They were beautiful. Strays [Billy Strayhorn, Ellington’s composer-arranger] was fantastic, too. His writing was so touching. And he was a good little piano player. Duke and Strays were very, very close. Strayhorn spent money like crazy, and Duke would cover the cost. Anything he wanted, from trips to clothes. [Photo of Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn by Herman Leonard/CTSImages.com]

JW: Did you enjoy recording Cats Vs. Chicks in 1954?
CT: [Laughs] That put a bunch of guys up against female jazz musicians Terry Pollard, Mary Osborne and Norma Carson. I was up against Norma. It’s funny. Before we started recording that song [Anything You Can Do], Norma said to me, “Now Clark, please don’t be hard on me.” But when she started playing, she blew her head off on that thing. Wow, what a player [laughs].

JW: What was the meaning behind Serenade to a Bus Seat in 1957 for Riverside?
CT: It wasn't intended as a tribute to Rosa Parks [who two years earlier had defied Jim Crow laws in Montgomery, Ala., by sitting in the front of a bus, refusing to get up]. At the time, I had a record date to make for Orrin [Keepnews]. First, a photographer was supposed to come over and take my picture for the album. But he never showed up, and I didn’t have time after that. So they just took a picture of my horn on a bus seat and put that on the cover and used the title for the album.

JW: When did you first record on the flugelhorn?
CT: When I was making an album with Billy Taylor [Taylor Made Jazz in 1957]. I had ordered one because I liked the way it sounded. All of the horn players in Jimmie Lunceford’s band had doubled on flugelhorn.

JW: What happened on the Billy Taylor session?
CT: The horn came in a box to my hotel in Chicago. I was in Duke’s band at the time and we had a day off, so I was recording with Billy. When the package arrived, my roommate thought it was something I wanted right away. So he came down to the place where we were recording and brought it into the studio. When I opened the package, the horn looked great. It was a beautiful, gold-plated instrument. I tried it right there on the spot and loved it so much I decided to use it on the date.

JW: You recorded twice with Thelonious Monk, in 1956 and 1958. What was special about him?
CT: Monk was one of those guys who was set in his ways. You either liked him or you didn’t. There was no middle. I’ve always liked people who were unusual or different. Monk knew what he wanted and knew what he was doing. He was respectful, but we didn’t have much to say to each other.

JW: How did you wind up recording with Monk on your album In Orbit in 1958?
CT: I needed a piano player, and producer Orrin Keepnews asked me if I wanted to use Monk. I said, “Great.” So Orrin called him in. After we recorded a bunch of things, we still hadn’t played anything of his.

JW: What happened?
CT: I said, “Monk, I think it’s about time we recorded one of your tunes.” He didn’t answer, so as I walked away he growled, “Come back here.” He said, “Fine, let’s play this.” He started playing the opening notes to Let's Cool One. He said, “You’ll hear it and then we’ll record it. Just listen.” So I listened and then we recorded it. I had never heard that tune before, and there wasn’t any music. We just did it [laughs].

JW: That was some trumpet section on Listen to Art Farmer in 1962—you, Art Farmer, Snooky Young, Ernie Royal, Rolf Ericson, Bernie Glow and Ray Copeland.
CT: Bernie Glow was the man in those days. He practically lived in the recording studios. He was a hell of a trumpet player. And a really nice guy. When I first came to New York, he said to me, “Welcome to New York. I just wish the same thing for you that happened to me.” [Photo of Clark Terry in 1972 by Paul Slaughter]

JW: What did he mean?
CT: I have no idea. I never asked him. He could have meant anything, including a blonde or brunette [laughs].

JW: Your albums with Bob Brookmeyer sound so good. Why?
CT: Oh, I know. I talk to Bob every week. I enjoyed that group as much as any I’ve worked with. I was always partial to the valve trombone. In high school, my teacher gave me one to play when he saw I could play the trumpet. When I heard Bob play it, I mean really, really play it, I fell in love with the sound. We didn’t waste any time getting that group together. The flugelhorn and valve trombone sound nice swinging together.

JW: After all these years, how does it feel to be the greatest living jazz trumpet player?
CT: Oh wow, I don’t know about being the greatest. But I am the oldest [laughs].

JazzWax tracks: Most Duke Ellington albums recorded in the 1950s and 1960s feature Clark Terry on trumpet. One of the finest is And His Mother Called Him Bill (1967). But everyone has a personal favorite. Other Ellingtonian recordings that are exciting and feature a chunk of the band, minus Duke, include Louie Bellson's Just Jazz All Stars (1952) and Billy Taylor's Taylor Made Jazz (1957). Unfortunately, the former isn't in print on CD, but you can find a killer track of the album's Johnny Come Lately here. The latter was released on Fresh Sound, and six copies are here for about $23.

Clark and Thelonious Monk recorded Bemsha Swing with Sonny Rollins on Monk's Brilliant Corners (Riverside), an early morning session. Clark and Monk also appear on Clark Terry: In Orbit (1958) at iTunes or here. Serenade to a Bus Seat (1957), a fiery album, also is still in print and has been remastered.

Clark Terry and Bob Brookmeyer recorded together on about two-dozen large-ensemble albums. Their quintet sessions included Tonight (1964), The Power of Positive Swinging (1965) and Gingerbread Man (1966). The second album is the only one available on CD or as a download. Or you can buy Clark Terry and Bob Brookmeyer Quintet Complete Studio Recordings (LoneHill) here.

Two offbeat Clark Terry tracks that are notable are Anything You Can Do, featuring male jazz stars pitted against female artists. It's at iTunes on a terrific album called Clark Terry (EmArcy). Cats v. Chicks is also available here or at Amazon.

And be sure to dig Clark in a Latin mood on Que Sera from Spanish Rice (1966), featuring Clark playing arrangements by Chico O'Farrill. Clark is joined in the trumpet section by Snooky Young, Joe Newman and Ernie Royal.

A JazzWax thanks to David Langner.

JazzWax clips: Here's Clark playing Pie Eye (the clip's spelling is incorrect) at Club Saint-Germain in Paris in 1959. That's Clark on flugelhorn, Bud Powell (piano), Pierre Michelot (bass) and Kenny Clarke (drums)...

Here's Clark featured with the Quincy Jones' big band in 1960 on Moanin'...

 

Interview: Clark Terry (Part 1)

Clark Terry is one of the most prolific living jazz musicians, having appeared on a staggering 905 known recording sessions. On trumpet, he probably is the most recorded in history. To give you a sense of how many sessions 905 is, Ernie Royal appeared on 661, Louis Armstrong on 629 sessions, Harry "Sweets" Edison on 563, Conrad Gozzo on 547 and Dizzy Gillespie on 501. In some cases, Clark was recording weekly, month after month.

Clark spent the 1950s in the trumpet section of Duke Ellington's orchestra. He also recorded as a leader and sideman on dozens of dates. What makes Terry's sound so special is a signature ability to swing hard and punctuate with confidence—without ever broiling his notes. Clark always leaves the ear with warm, pretty tones, mostly by bending notes slightly for flavor.

In Part 1 of my brief interview with the legendary trumpet player on Friday, Clark, 89, talked about growing up in St. Louis, playing in the Navy and working with Charlie Barnet and Duke Ellington: 

JazzWax: What was St. Louis like in the 1930s?
Clark Terry: St. Louis was very prejudiced when I was growing up but it was a good jazz town. All the riverboats used to stop there heading up and down the Mississippi River. The boats brought many musicians into the area who were looking for work in town and in Kansas City. As a result, St. Louis was a good jumping off point to get established. Rent was cheap, the food was good and the ladies were beautiful [laughs].

JW: What did your parents do?
CT: My mother died when I was very young. I don’t know how or why she passed. My older sister Ada Mae took over. My father worked on the tanks for the local gas company. He always had calluses on his feet, and I had to sandpaper them. We had a big family. I had eight sisters and two brothers.

JW: Where did you learn how to play the trumpet?
CT: My oldest sister’s husband was a tuba player. He showed me the fingering, which was pretty much the same for a trumpet. Our family was big, so there was no money for lessons. I made my first trumpet out of a piece of wrinkled up tubing and a lead pipe mouthpiece on the end. [Pictured: A young Clark Terry]

JW: How did it sound?
CT: Horrible. I made sounds on it. Eventually the neighbors got tired of hearing the noise and chipped in to raise $6 to buy me a pawnshop trumpet [laughs]. It was just a raggedy pawnshop horn, but between it and the one I played in high school, I was happy. I played all the time. I mean all the time. I loved to practice all day long.

JW: Where did you learn to read music?
CT: At Vashon High School. Mr. Otis and Mr. Wilson were very good teachers. I also listened to a lot of Fats Waller [pictured] records. One of the few times I had saved enough to go hear a band live I went to see Duke Ellington’s orchestra. I didn’t look at them and think to myself, “I’m going to play with that band someday.” But I sure dreamed about it a lot.

JW: How would you describe the St. Louis sound?
CT: When I was a kid, everything in St. Louis having to do with trumpet was hinged on one player—Charlie Creath. His name was pronounced “Creth,” and he was called King of Cornet. As he went, so went jazz trumpet playing there. Everyone tried to play like him. But there were a lot of other good trumpet players in St. Louis when I was a little kid in the '20s, like Dewey Jackson with his Musical Ambassadors and, Shorty Baker in the '30s.

JW: Did you ever see Miles Davis, who was from East St. Louis?
CT: Miles followed us around a lot. He had a lot of respect for me and for Dizzy [Gillespie]. Miles wouldn’t change anything he was doing unless—he said—“Clark or Dizzy told me to” [laughs].

JW: Where were you stationed in the Navy?
CT: I was at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station near Chicago from 1942 to 1945. The bands there were fantastic. The musicians were in barracks No. 1812. We all lived there, in the same place. We were on duty known as ‘ship’s company’—which meant we were permanently stationed on the base. Our job was to form bands from the recruits who were musicians. After the bands were formed, they shipped them out to Naval bases around the world.  [Photo: Pianist Hazel Scott signing autographs at the Great Lakes facility in December 1943]

JW: What did you do all day?
CT: We had a lot of time on our hands, so we jammed all day long. A lot of older professional cats who were there taught us youngsters chord changes and musicians’ habits. Guys like Paul Campbell who had played with Fats Waller and Lester Young.

JW: When you were discharged, you joined Charlie Barnet’s band?
CT: Yes, he was a beautiful person. He wrote Duke [Ellington] a letter about me, saying, “I have this young trumpet player in my band. I think you better give him a listen. I think you need him in your band.” I loved Charlie.

JW: You joined Count Basie's band first in the late 1940s. How did that happen?
CT: Basie was always scouting. He sent his people to listen to me. They’d all tell me that I should join Basie’s band. Finally Basie’s wife came around and started talking to me about joining. So I did. I used to practice a lot during this period, working on a doodle tonguing system I came up with. With this system, you sounded the way an auctioneer talks. 

JW: How did you wind up in Duke’s band in 1951?
CT: Duke used me as a sub a couple of times for Francis Williams. Soon enough I was full time with the band. I was very excited. It’s hard to fathom how I felt. I was very, very grateful and realized I was playing in a band I had dreamed about for years. [Photo: Clark Terry and Johnny Hodges (right) in Duke Ellington's band]

JW: Duke was a very spiritual guy, wasn’t he? 
CT: Yes, he was. But I never got really, really close to Duke. He was closest with baritone saxophonist Harry Carney and traveled with him. Harry drove him. Duke was very friendly with the musicians, but he also was aloof. His arrangements were fantastic. Some of them were written out, some sketched out and some were just ideas that Duke orchestrated. Those charts sounded so good.

JazzWax tracks: Clark Terry with Charlie Barnet's band in 1947 can be found on Charlie Barnet: Town Hall Jazz Concert at iTunes. The sound isn't great but dig the hip action.

Clark Terry with Count Basie's band in the late 1940s can be found at iTunes on Count Basie: At the Royal Roost: 1948. (That's Anita O'Day singing on the sample of How High the Moon.)

One of Clark's earliest recordings with Duke Ellington is A Tone Parallel to Harlem (The Harlem Suite) from 1951, which can be found on Ellington Uptown at iTunes.

A special JazzWax thanks to Hal McKusick.