JazzWax

'Rhythm and Blues Revue'

Back in 1955, R&B was already rock and roll. Little Richard, Chuck Berry and other artists were pioneering a new form that was highly theatrical, distinctly integrated in appeal, and loaded with sexual overtones. What isn't well-documented is the battle that was brewing within R&B. As rock and roll expanded, the form not only began crowding-out jazz but also shoved aside the older, more formal 78-era R&B styles.

In the following full video of the Rhythm and Blues Review (sent along by record-promoter legend Dick LaPalm), you can see that the film was an attempt to revive the form that thrived prior to the invasion by brasher and more outrageous artists of the 45-rpm era.

Oddly, while the small type at the bottom of the movie's opening credits says the date of the film is 1955, it must have been filmed earlier over a series of dates and pieced together—probably in 1950 and 1951. The artists, their dress and their performances clearly aren't mid-50s. For one, Nat Cole was a huge TV star in 1955 and Sarah Vaughan was well on her way. And Basie's group with Clark Terry, Buddy DeFranco and Wardell Gray was a 1950-51 ensemble. [Pictured above: Big Joe Turner]

In fact, Basie's discography shows him in New York with this group in October 1950, appearing in a "Snader telescription film." Snader produced the Rhythm and Blues Revue for television. The 1955 date must have been tied into the proliferation of TV sets nationwide. In 1955, 77% of American households owned at least one set v. 56% a year earlier. In 1950? Only 9%. [Pictured above: Buddy DeFranco]

By 1955, there was a sufficient older audience of black and white TV viewers in specific markets to make the revue's production and leasing to stations profitable.

Here—from 1950 and '51—is the film...

 

Greg Abate and Phil Woods

One of the finest saxophone albums of the year is The Greg Abate Quintet, Featuring Phil Woods (Rhombus). In fact, this high-pressure bop blowing date is one of Phil's best recent outings, and he's put to the test. I love this album because it's smartly paced, rich with daredevil reed playing, and there's loads of artistic competition. [Photo above: Greg Abate]

Abate, 65, is a seasoned pro. He grew up in Rhode Island, attended Boston's Berklee College of Music in the late 1960s and early '70s and, like many terrific New England jazz musicians, stayed put. He plays soprano, alto and baritone saxes here as well as the flute, but he's most at home on the alto. He has played with trumpeter Red Rodney, saxophonist Jerome Richardson and other leading jazz artists, and he has an acoustic approach that clearly was honed in the '80s.

Though Abate started recording relatively late, in 1980, when you listen to him on this album you realize that someone should be recording this guy weekly. Put the album on and what hits you first is the beautiful strut of his swing, followed by his effortless ability to deliver clean, serpentine improvisational lines.

Which makes you wonder why Phil [pictured above] agreed to climb into the ring with him. But if you know Phil, you know that he loves to get in there and put himself to the test and bang around creatively with those who can really blow. As Phil notes in a blurb on the back cover, "I sleep a lot better knowing there are alto players like Greg! It was a joy to make music with him, and he writes good songs that are challenging." Phil has never flinched at a hard day's work.

And what a relief—you won't find any Songbook nonsense here. Eight of the 10 tracks are by Abate [pictured above], with one by Phil and another, a gorgeous ballad (Marny), by John Patrick, a pianist who Abate has gigged with in New England. How good is Abate as a songwriter? Dig Carmel by the Sea, which he wrote for one of his favorite vacation haunts in California, or Pear for the Bear, which was written for Tom Bates, Abate's jazz-loving friend.

Phil's song, Goodbye Mr. Pepper, was composed as a tribute to Art Pepper, but, say Abate's liner notes, the song has never been recorded until now. Oh, a word about the rhythm section—Jesse Green (piano), Evan Gregor (bass) and Bill Goodwin (drums). Pure taste and huge chops, and they support these two tigers ably. [Photo above: Greg Abate]

There isn't an inch of fat on this album, and every track is brimming with melodic fervor and fun-loving woodchopping. Jazz lives!

JazzWax tracks: You'll find The Greg Abate Quintet, Featuring Phil Woods at Amazon here.

More on Greg Abate here.

JazzWax clip: Here's Greg Abate's Carmel by the Sea with Phil Woods taking the second solo...

Carmel By The Sea

Interview: Sue Raney (Part 2)

What makes vocalist Sue Raney special? First and foremost, she uses her intonation like a fine net that renders you immobile. As Sue sings, she has this way of commanding attention by wrapping a lyric around her finger without ever becoming possessive about the story. What's more, she lays back in just the right places, adding a breathiness to her voice and feathering her delivery. This enables her to seem attached to a song without smothering it—as though holding its arm. It's a studied coolness that seduces you little by little without ever being clingy or cloy. 

The second factor is Sue's technique, which is remarkable. She has a mighty passing gear but never abuses it. Instead, she knows how to surge without ever breaking a sweat, making those extra efforts seem like a snap. And she doesn't wander into the upper register to flirt with risk but instead purposefully soars there, pulling off leaps from one note to the next without wavering. Today's singers could learn a great deal from Sue Raney's recordings.

The third factor—which is unknown to most people—is her incredibly sweet and gracious conversational style. Sue comes from an age when people voiced appreciation sincerely and wrote letters of thanks. And I have to say, if you love Sue's singing voice, her phone voice will knock you out. It's warm and velvety and saturated with kindness. 

In Part 2 of my two-part conversation with Sue, she talks about her struggle to break through in the '60s and her new album with Alan Broadbent...

JazzWax: In  1960, you recorded two singles—four sides—with Bill Holman. What was the goal?
Sue Raney: Bill was amazing. We hoped to create a hit with Biology and One-Finger Symphony. Biology came close and wound up on Billboard’s “Bubbling Under the Hot 100” chart. Capitol promoted it nationally, but the record never gained enough steam. If I had had one hit record, my future might have been different.


JW: How so?
SR: So many great young singers were recording all at the same time. Vikki Carr and Jack Jones had hits, which took them to that next plateau. Unfortunately, I didn’t have that hit. 


JW: And yet your pop records hold up well, especially your sessions with Page Cavanaugh in 1960 and ‘61.
SR: We worked steadily at clubs in Los Angeles. I recorded Angel Eyes and I’m in Love with the Honorable Mr. So and So with The Page 7—which was the Page Cavanaugh Septet. He arranged three horns and a four-piece rhythm section, and the results were great. Page had a little edge to him, but never to me. He was a sweet guy. 

JW: What about those recordings with Buddy DeFranco and Tommy Gumina around the same time?
SR: Those were for the Armed Forces Radio’s "Navy Swings" programs. They were incredible. 


JW: How did the rock scene change your world?
SR: There was less and less appreciation for what I was doing. Without a hit, I slipped to the outskirts of pop. Many other singers had already gotten over that hump. At the time, I didn’t consider myself a jazz singer. I was sort of in the middle, but I did a lot of TV—The Red Skelton Show, The Tonight Show and others.

JW: You were on The Dean Martin Show, too.
SR: Yes, I did a duet with Dean. I had brought this lovely Michel Legrand medley. But Greg Garrison, the show’s director, said, “You can’t do that. We don’t want girl singers to do that kind of stuff.” Whatever his vision was, he didn’t want female vocalists to go into an artsy-craftsy thing. Instead, I did an opener called Like to Get to Know You, by Spanky & Our Gang.


JW: Were you comfortable with it?
SR: My favorite songs are jazz-pop ballads, which let me get involved with the lyrics. But you just couldn’t do those in the ‘60s—unless you were Ella Fitzgerald. I wish I could have been on those Songbook shows with Frank Sinatra and all the rest. But I just didn’t have a hit.
 
JW: Do you wish you had come up earlier?
SR: Someone once said I was born too late. Had I been recording earlier, I would have been established. I didn’t come up during the big band era. And if I were just starting out today, things also might be different. Look at Diana Krall and how terrific she is. Also holding me back was my reluctance to do a ton of traveling, which I guess wasn’t good. I didn’t like touring so much.


JW: What did you do in the ‘70s?
SR: I went into the jingle business with my former husband. I sang ad jingles for so many companies, I’ve lost track. We started a jingle company called EYE—Ed Yellen Enterprises. We wrote a lot of the jingles, I sang them, and it became a good business for us.

JW: Your album Dreamsville in 1988 is a lovely tribute to Henry Mancini.
SR: Henry kind of looked out for me. When he scored the movie Wait Until Dark in 1967, he hired me to sing the closing theme.


JW: How did your involvement with Supersax come about?
SR: During the ‘70s, when I was recording jingles, I knew saxophonist Med Flory. We were on the Ray Anthony Show together in the early ‘60s. One day at a restaurant, Med came up to me and said he had a great idea. He wanted to add voices to the saxes in his group and asked me to sing lead. He said he'd sing bass.

JW: How did the group come together?
SR: I got Melissa Mackay and John Bahler, and we rehearsed at my home up on Mulholland Drive. Gene Merlino was on the Ray Anthony Show and Med sang bass.


JW: Who scored the voices?
SR: That was Med’s wonderful writing. There’s nothing more rewarding than to be part of a vocal ensemble. I sang lead because I don’t read music well. The saxes were recorded first. Then we stacked the voices twice—overdubbed. There were five of us, so the vocals were tricky.

JW: How so?
SR: For example, we recorded Star Eyes but found that with five of us, there were too many hissing s's at the end. So we sang “Star Eye”—without the last "s." If you record one layer of voices, that’s fine. But when you overdub twice, the result gets tricky.


JW: You clearly have an affinity for Doris Day, yes? Your 2007 album was dedicated to her.
SR: Yes, very much. I grew up loving her voice. I hadn’t recorded with a string orchestra for a long time. But for that album, we went into Studio A at Capitol, where I had recorded 50 years earlier with Nelson Riddle.

JW: Did you ever meet her?
SR: I met her one time, for a second. Around the time my mother took me to Marty Melcher’s office, I went up there to hear my first record, The Careless Years. In she walked. I didn’t recognize her at first. It was so fleeting. She was in and then gone. But after my CD came out in 2007, I sent it to her and she wrote me such a wonderful letter.


JW: What does it say?
SR: Part of it says, “Dear Sue. I’m very late in saying thank you and I’m so sorry and embarrassed. I’m sorry that you’re paying tribute to me when I should be paying tribute to you.” She was so sweet and all class.

JW: Why was Doris Day so important to you?
SR: When I was growing up in the ‘50s, I wanted to be like her, and I tried to sing like her. I loved her voice. Her movies made me cry, she was such a good actress. She loomed large in my life. Just watching her made you feel good. All those Technicolor movies with Gordon MacRae. I grew up on them.


JW: On your current release, Listen Here, you're accompanied only by pianist Alan Broadbent, a gorgeous player.
SR: I always loved those albums Alan did with Irene Kral. I always wanted to do something with him like that. I always loved Irene’s sound. She and Alan melded together so well. I hope this new album comes close.

JazzWax note: If you're in New York this week, Sue will be appearing with the Alan Broadbent Trio at Feinstein’s at Loews Regency .

JazzWax tracks: Sue's latest album, Listen Here (Rhombus), is a collection of ballads. She's accompanied on the album by pianist Alan Broadbent. You'll find it here.

JazzWax clips: Here a clip of The Bad and the Beautiful from Sue Raney's latest album ...

The Bad And The Beautiful

And here's one from Ridin' High (1984), arranged by Bob Florence...

This Happy Madness

Interview: Sue Raney (Part 1)

Sue Raney is a direct link to America's golden age of pop and jazz singers. Yet she remains one of the most underrated female vocalists on the scene today. Sue has recorded exquisitely with every major arranger—Nelson Riddle, Billy May, Ralph Carmichael, Bill Holman, Bob Florence, Jack Marshall, Billy Byers and others. She also has been teamed with Buddy DeFranco, Page Cavanaugh, Shelly Manne, the Four Freshmen, Supersax and her husband, trumpter and flugelhornist Carmen Fanzone.

So why isn't Sue Raney better known? She came up a little late—in the early '60s, when the music changed and pulled the rug out from under young pop singers. Lacking hits, she found recording increasingly difficult as pop-rock and soul began to dominate the charts and studios. But that didn't stop her. Sue recorded jingles in the '70s before turning to jazz in the 1980s and beyond. Earlier this year she released Listen Here (Rhombus), a collection of ballads accompanied only by pianist Alan Broadbent. If you're in New York this week, Sue will be appearing with the Alan Broadbent Trio at Feinstein’s at Loews Regency.

In Part 1 of my two-part conversation with Sue, 72, the singer with the intimate tone talks about her start and how she wound up in Capitol's Studio A with Nelson Riddle in 1957...

JazzWax: Where did you grow up?
Sue Raney: I was born in McPherson, Kansas, but we moved to Wichita soon after. My mom wanted either my sister or me to be musical. She got lucky. When I was four, I started singing to the dolls we played with. That’s when my mother realized I could sing. But when she took me for voice instruction, the teacher said I was too young. So my mother took the lessons and passed them on to me.


JW: Did you sing locally?
SR: I sang at all the local luncheons and events. After World War II, we moved to Albuquerque, N.M., where my mother’s brother lived. He was a drummer. My parents were looking for work and there wasn’t much available in Oklahoma. Once we were situated there, we began going back and forth to Los Angeles. [Pictured above: Sue Raney, in her pre-teens]

JW: Why?
SR: At age 14, I was already at a professional level. I had my own radio show and was recording demos. On one of those trips West, my mother and I went to a publishing company that Mo Miller, Nan Grey’s mother, ran. Nan was Frankie Laine’s wife.


JW: How did you wind up moving to Los Angeles?
SR: One day Frankie Laine [pictured above], his Columbia producer Mitch Miller and actor and radio host Jack Carson were playing golf. Carson needed a teen singer for his radio show. He already had the King Sisters and guitarist-singer Tony Romano. Laine recommended me. In November 1954, I auditioned and got the job on Carson's show. Then I moved out there to live with Frankie Laine’s mother-in-law before my family moved, too, in 1955.


JW: A radio show in 1956?
SR: I know [laughs]. Jack Carson was one of the last celebrity radio hosts. It was the tail end of the radio-show era thanks to television’s strong gains nationwide. CBS was one of the last networks to have shows where audiences were invited in and applauded after you sang. But it was radio, and I was really lucky to be a part of that. At the time, I was 15 going on 16. The show didn’t last long.

JW: What did you do?
SR: I needed another show. Mo Miller, Laine's mother-in-law, became my manager. I was all set to debut on Columbia recording a duet with Frankie Laine.


JW: What happened?
SR: My mom was tenacious. She wanted her little girl to do everything. She took me to Marty Melcher’s office. Marty was a producer who was married to Doris Day. That day, talent agent Pierre Cossette was in the office. He had been at MCA, the talent agency, and by then was managing artists on his own. Pierre called after my audition at Marty’s office and offered me a shot on The Ray Anthony Show on TV. [Pictured above: Doris Day and Martin Melcher]

JW: What did you do?
SR: We chose Ray Anthony instead of recording a duet with Frankie Laine.


JW: Was Laine upset?
SR: Yes, a little. And he should have been. It wasn’t really right. My folks were novices at this, and sometimes they made the wrong decision. Because of Ray Anthony, I wound up auditioning at Capitol. Lee Gillette came over to the audition and signed me to the label. I was 17 years old, and it was all overwhelming and wonderful. What a blessing for me. [Pictured above: Sue Raney with Ray Anthony]

JW: Did you have any professional training?
SR: I was a natural when I was young. When I began traveling out to California at age 14, Laine wanted me to go to Lillian Goodman, a vocal coach. Frankie Laine had always touted her. He had voice problems, and so did Betty Hutton. Goodman had resolved those problems for both of them and others. Lillian became my guru. Everything I learned from her has stayed with me.


JW: What did she teach you?
SR: She provided classically oriented training as well as breathing and good stability. I was with her for a year. At first I couldn’t afford the lessons, which were $15 an hour, an unheard-of-sum back then. But my mother had convinced my Aunt Marie to pay for them, which she did, thankfully. [Pictured above: Sue Raney with Nat King Cole]

JW: Your first session was with Nelson Riddle?
SR: I know. Amazing—at age 17. That album began as a series of singles. I was taken aback to be in his company. Nelson used to work with me and he took me to John Kennedy’s Presidential Inauguration. My gracious, to be in his company—I was overwhelmed. Everyone was there at the recording session. After I recorded the first song, the string players all tapped on their instruments with the base of their bows to applaud me.


JW: What did you think?
SR: Producer Lee Gillette told me that they rarely did things like that. Today I don’t remember much about the session. I recall I was in a booth with three acoustic panels and that Bob Bain was behind me on guitar. But that’s about it.


JW: You also recorded with Billy May in 1960—Songs for a Raney Day.
SR: That was another unbelievable session. It was funny: My dad was never particularly musical, but he just loved Billy May and how he always arranged those bending saxes on singers’ albums. You know what I mean? Billy had them wail and drag notes. But on my album, May didn’t score that sound, which my dad sure would have loved.

JazzWax tracks: Sue Raney's latest album, Listen Here (Rhombus), is available here.

Sue's initial albums are sensational and should not be missed. They include...

• When Your Lover Has Gone (1957), with Nelson Riddle.
• Songs for a Raney Day (1960), with Billy May
• Breathless! (1960), with Page Cavanaugh, Buddy DeFranco and Tommy Gumina and Shelly Manne and His Men.

The second one listed above is out of print and costs a fortune from independent sellers. However, you'll find a few of the tracks on a Billy May collection here.

JazzWax clips: Here are clips from the albums above (place your cursor to the left of the song titles and click the arrow)...

It's Easy To Remember

Impossible

Does Anybody Here Love Me?