In early 1964, Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic staged a series of Young People's Concerts at Lincoln Center that married storytelling with different forms of music, including classical, jazz and folk. The point was to narrate original children's stories on stage while the New York Philharmonic and guest musicians illustrated the drama.
On Saturday, Feb. 8, 1964—between the Friday the Beatles arrived in the U.S. and the Sunday when they performed on the Ed Sullivan Show—the concert series took on jazz. An original adaptation of Peter and the Wolf written by Nat Hentoff (above) was narrated by conductor Leonard Bernstein while jazz composed and arranged by Gunther Schuller was performed by Don Ellis (trumpet), Benny Golson (tenor saxophone), Eric Dolphy (alto saxophone), Richard Davis (bass) and Joseph Cocuzzo (drums). [Photo from YouTube]
Yesterday, with the passing of jazz-folk pianist Mose Allison on Nov. 15, I posted a remembrance and my 2010 JazzWax interview in its entirety. Today, I want to feature 10 favorite Mose clips, so we all can appreciate how important and special he was.
Mose Allison, a jazz-folk pianist and singer-songwriter who brought white rural imagery to the urban jazz scene and was highly regarded by every musician who played with him, even those who were initially wary of his Mississippi roots, died on Nov. 15. He was 89.
Mose was one of a kind. While Dr. John and Leon Russell are two pianists who shared Mose's earthy naturalism, only Mose grasped the nuanced aspects of modern jazz and the music's cosmopolitan wryness. All you need to know about Mose are two songs and the order in which you hear them on his 1957 album Local Color—Parchman Farm and Crepuscular Air. With the former, you have a backwoods tale sung in Mose's signature drawl, followed by the latter, a song impossibly graceful and sophisticated. Mose had the jazz-folk spectrum covered and always made jazz and songwriting sound deceptively easy.
Mose's love for syncopation also greatly helped him in the jazz world, particularly his fondness for bop pianists Al Haig and John Lewis. The list of jazz greats who recorded with Mose and fully admired his unusual piano style included Al Cohn, Bob Brookmeyer, Stan Getz, Zoot Sims, Nat Adderley, Phil Woods, Teddy Charles, Addison Farmer, Pepper Adams, Bill Crow, Major Holley, Henry Grimes, Osie Johnson, Jo Jones, Slam Stewart, Paul Motian, Jerome Richardson, Joe Henderson and many others.
Mose's genius was in the swing of his playing and the wit and sass of his songwriting and singing. He took his time while playing, most often favoring a walking tempo. But his music was firmly in the tabernacle tradition, weaving a "got religion" tale with his keyboard notes and rhythm. By contrast, Mose's vocals could be the unabashed voice of vice, seemingly empathizing with those who strayed or ached so bad they needed a good time.
I interviewed Mose twice, once for The Wall Street Journal (go here) and once for JazzWax. In honor of Mose, here's my JazzWax interview with the artist from 2010 in its entirety...
Mose Allison sings like he’s taking a bath with his clothes on. There's a lovely howling casualness about his vocal style, but what you hear is somewhat deceptive. Within that rural yowl is wisdom and depth, not only in the lyrics of the songs he chooses but also in his piano playing. Mose may initially sound like he just fell off the turnip truck, but he played and recorded with many jazz greats in the late 1950s who don't suffer fools. Before long, he was recording as a leader. There's a lot going on there.
When I went to see Mose perform at New York's Jazz Standard last week, I was surprised that he knew all of his songs by number. He'd quietly say to bassist Ratzo Harris and drummer Tom Whaley "No. 4" or "No. 36." Harris had a book of lead sheets mounted on a music stand. I also was surprised by how syncopated and rhythmic Mose plays today, especially with his left hand. You close your eyes and it's as if a hard-shell crab has mounted the keyboard and is playing along with its claws.
Here's my interview with Mose, one of the legendary originators of jazz-folk and a favorite of British rock groups of the 1960s:
JazzWax: Your lyrics and blues are so utterly original. How many songs have you written? Mose Allison: [Laughs] About 150.
JW: Where were you born? MA: On my grandfather’s farm three miles south of Tippo, Mississippi. There were just a couple of general stores there, a gas station and a cotton gin.
JW: You’re probably one of the few white blues singers around today who actually picked cotton, yes? MA: My father made sure I learned the value of a dollar at a young age.
JW: How does one pick cotton? MA: It's been a while, but you have an 11-foot sack. The pod is a seeded thing on a branch and it comes off pretty easy. The trick isn’t in the picking but the volume, moving fast and getting a lot in that sack.
JW: Where did you learn to play boogie-woogie piano? MA: From my cousin’s records. My dad didn’t like boogie-woogie. He loved stride. He was locked into the Fats Waller thing. I liked Albert Ammons.
JW: Did you take piano lessons? MA: Yes, starting at age 5. I took lessons for a few years at Miss Etta Oliver’s just across the creek. Then I started picking up things off the jukebox, learning to play by ear. So I quit taking lessons. I didn’t learn to read music that well anyway.
JW: You played trumpet professionally first, didn’t you? MA: Yes. I learned trumpet in high school.
JW: Where did you play your first public performance? MA: At Charleston High School in Mississippi. I played Fats Waller’s Hold Tight, as a boogie-woogie. But I didn’t win.
JW: Who did? MA: The guy who played Washington and Lee Swing on the fiddle [laughs].
JW: What did you do after high school? MA: I attended the University of Mississippi for a couple of semesters. Then I joined the Army in 1946 with two friends. I was going to be drafted anyhow. I went into the infantry. I was going to be shipped abroad, so we were sent to Seattle by troop train. My duffel bag was all packed and ready. But then Congress passed a law that said a soldier couldn’t be sent overseas if he had less than 10 weeks of basic training. I had less than that. I was discharged in 1947.
JW: What did you do after you got out? MA: I went back to Ole Miss. I was studying mechanical drawing and chemical engineering. But I didn’t last long. Analytical geometry stumped me pretty good [laughs].
JW: What did you do? MA: I left Ole Miss and went on the road, playing trumpet with a couple of friends.
JW: Did you make it to Memphis? MA: Yes. Before I left Ole Miss, I headed up there. I knew Bill Harvey, B.B. King’s first musical director. He got me to sit in with the band that warmed up the audience before B.B. came on stage. In Memphis, I met black players and white players. I used to go to jam sessions.
JW: What did you do after leaving college in 1951? MA: I went up to New York to have a look at New York University and check out the jazz scene. NYU was so different than the schools down South. For one, there was no campus there. The college was all buildings. There was no portico, no lawns, no trees. As for jazz, no one was working at the time. So I went home.
JW: Who was your biggest singing and composing inspiration at this point? MA: I had heard Charles Brown, Muddy Waters and so forth. I also loved Nat King Cole.
JW: Then what happened? MA: I met my wife and got married. She urged me to resume my studies, so I enrolled at Louisiana State University. I took courses in aesthetics. That’s what opened me up. I had a book called Principles of Art by R.G. Collingwood. It opened my eyes to the fact that some of the stuff that I had been listening to all my life was actually art.
JW: Your trumpet was stolen in a Philadelphia nightclub? MA: Yes, an old, lacquer one. I liked it a lot. But after it was stolen, I never bothered to get a new one. My decision to concentrate on the piano instead was economic and aesthetic [laughs].
JW: By 1956, you had begun to record. MA: Yes, with Al Cohn and Bob Brookmeyer. Then I started writing the Back Country Suite. I knew how to write music. I could write single lines and things, and could make charts. Later, I arranged an album for Columbia Records called Hello There, Universe in 1969.
JW: Back in 1956, how did you start working with Al Cohn? MA: That’s a funny story. I met Marilyn Moore, Al’s wife at the time, in Galveston, Texas, in 1955. I was working a gig down there with a girl singer. Al’s wife was there on vacation. She heard me and liked what she heard. She said that if I ever came to New York that I should get in touch with Al. So when I moved up with my wife and young daughter in 1956, I did.
JW: What happened? MA: I contacted Al, and he had me right out to his house in Flushing, Queens. He gave me some pointers on how to write. I was finally a New Yorker. My wife and I and our daughter moved into an apartment on 103rd St., right off Central Park.
JW: In 1956, how did you meet Stan Getz? MA: I used to go to these jam sessions at night at a loft on 34th St. that belonged to trombonist Clyde Cox. Many of the guys who were there were from the South. At these sessions, I met drummer Frank Isola, who put me in touch with Stan.
JW: How did you get along with Getz? MA: Just fine. No problems. I worked off and on with him. He was a great player. I made one album with him and bassist Addison Farmer and drummer Jerry Segal. It was The Soft Swing in 1957. I didn’t have to adapt to Stan’s style. He liked me just as I was. My models as far as a rhythm piano player goes were Al Haig and John Lewis. Stan had a lush intensity. We talked a lot. I liked him. He was a great player.
JW: Where is Parchman Farm, which you recorded on Local Color in 1957? MA: Parchman Farm is in Parchman Miss. That’s what they used to call the Mississippi State Penitentiary. They used to take prisoners to work in the fields. When I was 10, I was in a gas station in Tippo when a team of horses and bloodhounds came thundering through, looking for an escaped prisoner. It left a deep impression on me.
JW: What about Seventh Son from Creek Bank in 1958? MA: I didn’t write that song. That’s Willie Dixon's. I first heard the song on a record by Willie Maybon. I liked it so much I decided to record it.
JW: What about your unusual vocal style? MA: I’m just doing it. I developed the style over the years. My inspirations were Ray Charles, Charles Brown and Percy Mayfield. I didn’t run away from where I was from. I never felt that was necessary. I just did my thing. I hoped it would impress people. Back Country Suite got real good reviews so I continued doing what I did with a trio.
JW: You went to Britain in the mid-1960s? MA: Yes, I went to England after a guy who booked Sonny Boy Williamson and others blues artists invited me to go on tour there.
JW: Who was the first English rocker to take on your work? MA: Georgie Fame was one of the first. I’ve known him for years. I met the Who later, after they had recorded Young Man Blues, which was a surprise to me.
JW: When you heard the Who had performed and recorded it, what did you think? MA: I figured that’s great. Their version is really the command performance on my song. I like anything that anybody does with my material. I do what I want with other people's material, so I don't quibble when they interpret mine.
JW: Did you like rock? MA: It was alright. I had already heard all the music on which rock was based, so it was just an extension of the blues to me. Muddy Waters said something like, “Rock is just the blues but with a backbeat.” All the rock guys used a heavy backbeat.
JW: Did you like it? MA: Not really. I didn’t like the constant backbeat because it limits you as far as improvisation goes. But I appreciated rock and what they were trying to do with the blues. Recently I did a tribute to The Who’s Pete Townshend. They just rolled the piano out. There were mostly guitar players. They rolled the piano out in front of audience and I did Young Man Blues and Old Man Blues.
JW: Why do you think you’re not better known? MA: Probably because I’m so many different things. They don’t know where to put me. The advertising world has to say someone is the best at something. I’ve never been the best at anything. I do a lot of things.
JW: Your new album, The Way of the World, is terrific. MA: Thank you. I met guitarist-producer Joe Henry in Dusseldorf, Germany. He said at the time that he wanted to record me. I hadn't recorded in about 12 years and I didn’t figure on making any more records.
JW: Why not? MA: With the reissues and so forth, I have put out about 50 albums. None of them have sold very well according to the royalty statements I get [laughs]. I didn’t see a need to make a new one.
JW: What changed your mind? MA: Joe kept at me and mailed my wife and so forth. I kept putting him off. Finally, I said to myself, Joe has a great reputation as a producer and he’s also a great musician. I eventually came to the conclusion, "Why not?" We recorded at his studio, and I like how it came out. [Pause] Never underestimate the power of relentless persuasion [laughs].
Tomorrow, my favorite Mose Allison clips.
Tonight, come on up!...
Reminder—tonight I'll be appearing at New York's Barnes & Noble on 82nd St. and Broadway at 7 p.m. with singer-songwriter Rob Hyman, Cyndi Lauper's co-writer on Time After Time. He'll be interviewing me briefly, and then I'll interview him on Cyndi's 1984 hit. After, I'll answer questions and follow with a book signing and hugs for friends, JazzWax readers, book fans and colleagues. For more information, go here. Hope to see you there!
On Nov. 19, 1966, Lee Morgan headed out to Englewood Cliffs, N.J., and Rudy Van Gelder's recording studio with tenor saxophonist Hank Mobley, pianist Cedar Walton, bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Billy Higgins. When they arrived, the quintet recorded what I consider to be a perfect album. The songs were beautifully selected, the material was well rehearsed and the playing was pure bliss by all five musicians. Once they were done, Blue Note decided to shelve the album.
Why the album wasn't released in '66 remains a mystery. The good news for us is that re-issue producer Michael Cuscuna discovered the tape reels in the Blue Note vaults in 1984 and released the album the following year. Possible reasons why Blue Note would put the brakes on such a wonderful album include too many Blue Note albums coming out at the same time, a desire to release a different Morgan album instead, a conflict with one of Blue Note's other artists releasing an album, the group's inability to tour to promote the album, a failure to get rights clearance on one of the standards or a sonic flaw in a track that needed a re-take that the group didn't have time to correct at a later date. Or it was planned, delayed and then forgotten. And there are probably another 10 reasons that haven't been mentioned here.
What we do know is that The Rajah was released 12 years after Morgan was gunned down in 1972 by his common-law wife Helen at Slug's Saloon on East 3rd St. in New York. A blizzard had prevented the ambulance from arriving quickly, and Morgan bled to death. He was 33.
The Rajah features a relaxed, sophisticated sound with a laid-back, pulse-paced feel. Many of the songs have a light Latin rhythm that was in sync with the bossa nova craze of the day. The song lineup was Calvin Massey's A Pilgrim's Funny Farm, Morgan's The Rajah, Duke Pearson's Is That So?, Walter Davis's Davisamba and two standards—What Now My Love and Once In a Lifetime. Mobley is particularly sensual here, sailing through these calm waters like an early-morning tug while Morgan's horn is lyrical, bright and embracing. Walton on piano is exceptional, particularly with Chambers' thick bass and Higgins' gentle hard-bop rhythms.
I never tire of hearing this album. Michael Cuscuna tells me the following: "I have no idea why this album wasn't released. Lee was prolific, and a lot got left in the can, including a number of titles even better than this one. Alfred [Lion] never had a clear memory of why some things came out and some got left behind."
For those curious about Morgan's murder, a new documentary is winding its way through the film-festival circuit. Information on The Lady Who Shot Lee Morgan can be found here.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Lee Morgan's The Rajahhere.
Leon Russell, a singer-songwriter and pianist who spent much of the early 1960s recording pop hits and recording on them as a Los Angeles studio musician and, who in the years that followed, became a solo artist, producer and composer of hits such as A Song for You, Tight Rope, This Masquerade and Superstar, died on Nov. 13. He was 74.
Back in March 2014, I spent several hours with Leon at his home outside of Nashville. The house was loaded with eclectic, Gothic furnishings that reflected the artist's eccentric taste and personality. While Leon's long snow-white hair and beard and aviator sunglasses created the persona of an aging Hell's Angel's biker, he was a country boy at heart—hewing close to his earthy vision and polite charm.
Today, I'm going to provide you with my 2014 Wall Street Journal profile, followed by my favorite audio and video clips of Leon:
Nashville/March 31, 2014
Leon Russell's ankles hurt. Seated in a red easy chair in the living room of his Tudor-style home—his legs extended and a thick white foam square tucked behind his head—Mr. Russell was dressed in a black sports jacket, a blue dress shirt, green chinos and black loafers. When he stands, Mr. Russell must support himself with a cane, but he uses a motorized wheelchair whenever traveling more than 50 feet.
"Bones in my feet reach too far and have pulled my Achilles tendon flat, so it's hard to stand or walk for very long," said the 71-year-old pianist and singer-songwriter. "I also have a slight paralysis on the entire right side of my body. The doctor who pulled me out at birth damaged my second and third vertebrae. But without those tugs, I probably would have been a regular guy selling insurance in Texas or something."
Neither disability seems to have slowed Mr. Russell. On Tuesday, he will release his 37th studio album—"Life Journey" (Universal)—a mix of originals and standards ranging from Robert Johnson's "Come On in My Kitchen" to Billy Joel's "New York State of Mind." The new album follows "The Union," a hit duet CD in 2010 with Elton John that revived Mr. Russell's career.
While "Life Journey" shares qualities with Mr. Russell's 2002 songbook release, "Moonlight & Love Songs," it has more sass and grit thanks to the Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra and strings arranged by jazz pianist Alan Broadbent.
Mr. Russell is a study in contrasts. While his fierce eyes and long white hair and beard project the image of a Yukon prospector, his hushed twang and courtly manner are a throwback to a more genteel age. A self-described independent, the edgy artist is clearly eager for renewed mainstream acceptance—on his terms. And though Mr. Russell's backwoods vocals and honky-tonk piano sound untrained, few musicians can match his skill or feel-good touch.
Mr. Russell began his career in 1960, touring for two years as Jerry Lee Lewis's opening pianist. He then became a top Los Angeles studio musician—recording behind dozens of artists ranging from the Ronettes and Beach Boys to Sam Cooke and Frank Sinatra.
In 1970, Mr. Russell masterminded Joe Cocker's seminal "Mad Dogs & Englishmen" tour and wrote "A Song for You," "Superstar," "This Masquerade" and other hits. He went on to record formidable soul, gospel, country, blues and bluegrass albums.
"My new CD has a lot of stuff I wanted to do for years, but never did," said Mr. Russell, stroking his beard. "Back then I didn't know anyone who could write Count Basie arrangements and I never had the money to commission them."
Elton John, who used to open for Mr. Russell in the early 1970s, helped in that regard—but insisted Mr. Russell use a producer. "So I called Tommy LiPuma," Mr. Russell said. "We go back to 1965, when he produced the O'Jays' first album and I played piano on it."
Born in Lawton, Okla., in 1942, Mr. Russell was introspective at an early age. Piano lessons began at 4, and by 14 he was playing at local clubs. "Whatever I heard I could remember and play. When I came home from jobs, I'd listen to my radio. The only station it picked up favored R&B and Pentecostal gospel."
Mr. Russell played piano in the local Methodist Church but soon found the music "starchy." "The Pentecostals had horns, drums, guitars, huge choirs and screaming and dancing and all kinds of stuff. That was for me." Mr. Russell also took up the baritone horn to play in the high-school marching band. "I needed a strap to keep it on, and I'd be limping down the road trying to carry it," he said. "But I got to go to the big football games."
Arriving in Los Angeles in 1959 to work in advertising, Mr. Russell soon left to tour with Mr. Lewis, returning in 1962. "I played some of my demos for [singer-songwriter] Jackie DeShannon, who introduced me to [arranger] Jack Nitzsche. Jack worked with [producer] Phil Spector, and I soon met studio musicians like Hal Blaine, Glen Campbell and others who did almost all the rock and pop recording in L.A."
From 1962 to 1968, Mr. Russell appeared on hundreds of singles and albums by other artists as "Russell Bridges," his birth name, developing a reputation for inventive piano licks. "Arrangers just left my parts blank and told me to play jazz, blues or rock in those spots," he said. In 1965, Mr. Russell let his hair grow long. "I had to go to Memphis and didn't have time to get a trim before rushing back for a recording job.
"At the studio, guys I knew said nasty stuff about my hair, which ticked me off. So I let it really grow. One day Sinatra stared so long at my hair in the studio that he walked into a pole."
To compensate for the delayed reaction of his right hand, Mr. Russell had to think ahead. "I trained myself to imagine what I would play six or seven seconds later and figured out something else if I couldn't," he said. "When I started playing guitar in the '60s, it took me a year just to figure out how to hold the pick in my right hand."
Tiring of anonymous pop work, Mr. Russell built his first home studio in 1969 and started recording his own songs and albums. That year, he was asked to produce Joe Cocker's second album, which included Mr. Russell's hit "Delta Lady." Then he was asked to sign on as musical director for a seven-week tour planned by Mr. Cocker for early 1970. Mr. Russell took the job.
To prepare, Mr. Russell brought together more than 15 highly skilled musician and singer-friends. "In just four days we were fully rehearsed and ready to hit the road. What made that 'Mad Dogs' tour so successful was the tribal connection between the audience and Joe and my band. It was like the rock 'n' roll revues I saw as a kid in Oklahoma."
Mr. Russell also began writing songs without a collaborator. "I found the process difficult until I stopped trying to be the writer and performer at the same time," he said. Mr. Russell soon made a few adjustments. "I'd record myself playing piano off the top of my head. After about 20 minutes, I'd wind up with enough for 2½ songs. I'd listen back, edit, moan a melody and add syllables for the words."
Lyrics were a little trickier. "I used to write on pads with a pen but had trouble reading the words the next day. Years later, Bob Dylan taught me to just write and write on a laptop computer. Then I'd print that out. When it was time to write a song, I'd go through the pages and sing melodies to words that moved me."
Today, songs come faster. "At the risk of sounding immodest, I can write you one right now," he said. "Turns out Elton is the same way. I really thought my career was over, that I couldn't do this anymore. Elton changed that with our last album and by encouraging me on this one. Looks like I still have it."
As you probably sense, it was a marvelous afternoon—the two of us talking while facing his large flat-screen TV as a basketball game unfolded with the volume muted. His trademark sunglasses off, Leon had the demeanor of a frontier judge, the kind who would have a gold pocket watch chain running across his vest and small fancy French pistols hidden in unsuspecting places. [Photo above of Leon Russell and Marc Myers]
Leon's lifelong passion was music, and he was in his own skin singing, playing piano or both. He also could do it all—rock, R&B, soul, country and the American songbook—with powerful conviction and dazzling chords. Only when he was singing and playing was he truly communicating. Born in Oklahoma, Leon was proud of his rural beginnings. But like his fellow studio musician Glen Campbell, Leon loved making you think he was a hick trying to make sense of a big city. That gag lasted until he began to play, at which point Leon's peers typically stared in wonder and envy as he stirred up a musical flavor none could match. A hick, indeed.
Last night I was e-chatting with the great singer-songwriter Jackie DeShannon about Leon. Jackie, of course, set Leon on his course when he arrived in Los Angeles. She sent along the following: "Leon was the best. I knew he was a genius the moment I heard him play. He will be missed. A one-of-a-kind musical painting. There won't be another like him. Love you, Leon."
Me, too. I'll be listening to his recordings for most of the day.
JazzWax clips. Here are my favorite Leon Russell songs and recordings:
Here's Leon Russell in 1964 on TV's Shindig playing Roll Over Beethoven, sort of a visual cross between Jerry Lee Lewis and Van Cliburn...
Here's Gary Lewis and the Playboys' Everybody Loves a Clown, a rather sophisticated pop song co-written by Leon Russell, who also is playing piano along with other studio musicians...
Here's Bonnie Bramlett singing Groupie (Superstar), the original name of Superstar that she co-wrote with Leon Russell and the Carpenters covered in 1971...
Here's Leon playing and singing his 1972 composition This Masquerade (pay careful attention to those juicy chord voicings)...
Here's Leon signing and playing his Tight Rope, a #1 hit in 1972. Again, dig his rollicking piano and how sophisticated the chords become as the song progresses...
Here's Leon Russell on piano with Joe Cocker singing The Letter in 1970...
Here's Leon and then wife Mary singing Bobby Womack and Harold Payne's Daylight from The Wedding Album in 1976...
Here's J.J. Cale and Leon Russell at Leon's Paradise Studios in L.A. in 1979...
Here's Leon in his Hank Wilson persona in 1984 performing Truck Drivin' Man...
Here's Leon singing Angel Eyes from Moonlight & Love Songs in 2002...
And finally, here'sGeorgia on My Mind from Life Journey (2014), produced by Tommy LiPumma...
On Nov. 2, I was on NBC's Today show with Hoda Kotbe and Kathie Lee Gifford to talk about Anatomy of a Song. I created a quiz for the show's "Who Knew?" segment, and they took it into the streets to test the music smarts of average visitors to New York. Here's the segment...
Then on Nov. 9, I was a guest on Hoda's radio show, The Hoda Show!, on Sirius XM. Hoda loves the book. I must tell you, Hoda is a peach. She was so sweet to me and so generous with her praise, she nearly brought me to tears. She is who she is on TV. I'm eternally grateful. You can hear the interview here...
On Wednesday, Nov. 16, I will be at New York's Barnes & Noble on 82nd St. and Broadway at 7 p.m. Rob Hyman, co-founder of the Hooters band and co-writer with Cyndi Lauper of Time After Time, is coming up from Philadelphia to interview me. Then I'll interview Rob on what it was like to write Time After Time with Cyndi. There will be a Q&A session and then I'll be signing books. It's going to be a blast, and a lot of great people are coming. For more information, go here. Come on up and say hi. [Photo above of banner at Upper West Side Barnes & Noble]
Next Friday, Nov. 18, I will be in Toronto at the studios of JAZZ.FM91 giving a talk on my book and sharing inside stories about interviewing Mick Jagger, Joni Mitchell, Stevie Wonder, Rod Stewart, Keith Richards, Grace Slick, Roger Waters, Linda Ronstadt and so many others. If you live in Toronto or the region, you won't want to miss this. And please buy those tickets soon for the fund-raising event, which includes a free copy of my book signed. They're going fast. For more information, go here.
Media-coverage roundup. Here are this week's reviews and articles on Anatomy of a Song:
Gary Trust, my main man and Billboard's king of charts, interviewed me for his popular Chart Beat podcast. Listen here.
Hardeep Phull,a superb, fast music writer for The New York Post, wrote a piece for the Sunday edition last week that gave the book a wonderful tabloid spin. "Fascinating song histories are revealed in Marc Myers's new book," Hardeep wrote. Go here.
Julie Hinds of the Detroit Free Press gave Anatomy of a Song a rave review. Writes Julie, "Marc Myers is noticeably free of the pretentious attitude that popular music belongs at the kids' table." Go here.
Bill Bentley, in The Market Report, had huge praise for the book, calling it "one of the most informative music books in a long time." Go here (scroll down a little).
Michael Heaton of the Cleveland Plain Dealer called the book "a music lover's dream." Go here.
Heather Scott Partington of Las Vegas Weekly writes, "Perhaps the greatest gift of Anatomy of a Song is its range. This is a book that encourages you to go back into your record collection, to the hits you think you remember well."
If you love JazzWax, please buy Anatomy of a Song. To purchase, go here in the U.S., here in the U.K. or here in Canada. And thank you for your kindness and support.
This week in The Wall Street Journal, for my "House Call" column, I interviewed Neil deGrasse Tyson, a celebrity astrophysicist, head of New York's Hayden Planetarium and host of StarTalk on the National Geographic Channel. Though he grew up in the 1960s, he had no interest in becoming an astronaut. Find out why here.
Sticking with the science theme in the WSJ, I interviewed physicist Carlo Rovelli for my "Playlist" column on his favorite song—Für Alina, a short piano piece by Estonian composer Arvo Pärt. He discovered it during a tough divorce. Go here to read and listen. Carlo is the author of Seven Brief Lessons in Physics (go here).
Walter Wanderley tribute. Fans of the Brazilian pop-jazz organist will dig Mike Reed's tribute on the Hammond...
GRP All-Star Band. Reader Les Johnston in Australia sent along this clip of the GRP Big Band playing Cherokee, with the trumpet section functioning akin to Supersax...
Charlie Barnet, 1948.Here's the Charlie Barnet band in a short during the second American Federation of Musicians' recording ban playing East Side, West Side, with a solo by a young Doc Severinsen, and singing and dancing by Bunny Briggs...
Georgy Girl was a 1966 film starring Lynn Redgrave as Georgy and Charlotte Rampling, Alan Bates and James Mason. It was perhaps the best of the Swinging London dramatic-comedies depicting the growing gap between young and old London. The movie's theme, Georgy Girl, was a #1 hit in the States in 1967 for the Australian folk group The Seekers. The song was nominated for an Oscar but lost out to John Barry's theme to Born Free. [Photo above from YouTube]
Here are The Seekers in 1965, singing A World of Our Own. What a crush I had on Judith Durham's voice when I was little. To this day, it still strikes me as sensationally beautiful...
Kay Starr, the early years.Here's the late Kay Starr in 1944 with Jimmy Dodds singing Stop That Dancing Up There, with the Joe Reichman Orchestra...
What the heck. Reader Margy Bloom sent along this clip of Los Angeles shot in 12K resolution entirely on the Phase One XF IQ3 100 megapixel camera. In other words, your eyes will pop out of your head (expand to full screen)...
Oddball album covers of the week.
Here are two album covers with palm-sized women planting themselves on musical instruments. I'm not sure why this was appealing, other than women could be cast as more subservient if they were petite perky pets. Note on the first cover: A pinky ring? Note on the second: Given the conga's angle, it's a miracle she's still up there. Watch those feet!
There are plenty of jazz-pop albums in the rock era that, on paper, never should have worked but did and still do, exceptionally well. Joe Pass's The Stones Jazz (1966) is one. Paul Desmond's Bridge Over Troubled Water (1970) is another. Add Lena & Gabor (1970) to the list.
The album by vocalist Lena Horne and guitarist Gábor Szabó (above) was released on Skye Records, a label formed in 1968 by Szabó, vibraphonist Cal Tjader, arranger Gary McFarland and executive Norman Schwartz. The label's catalog was largely jazz-pop, but mismanagement and a failure to gain adequate distribution forced the company into bankruptcy in late '70. After, Skye's assets were acquired by Buddah Records in '71, when the label re-issued Lena & Gabor as Watch What Happens, with a re-shuffled playlist.
In 1969, when the album was recorded, Horne was an elegant supper-club and variety-show belter who hadn't recorded in about four years. Szabó was a guitarist with a proto-fusion approach to chord voicings and tone. Though he had been a member of Horne's band in the mid-1960s, the pairing of these two different artists on a studio album could have been a mess. Instead, it was a stroke of genius by producers Szabó and McFarland. In fact, much of the musical fabric uniting these two was the handiwork of McFarland, who arranged the album.
Lena & Gabor featured Lena Horne (vcl), Richard Tee (org), Gabor Szabo, Eric Gale and Cornell Dupree (g), Chuck Rainey (el-b), Grady Tate (d), Howard Roberts (chorale) and Gary McFarland (arr). The reason I pulled this one out yesterday was an email exchange I had earlier in the day with big-band arranger Bob Freedman, who had read my gospel organ post and touted Richard Tee, the prolific studio organist and performer. I love Tee, and he's fundamental to Lena & Gabor, since his organ gives the album a hip, gospel warmth.
The tracks here are Rocky Racoon, Something, Everybody's Talkin', In My Life, Yesterday When I Was Young, Watch What Happens, My Mood Is You, Message to Michael, Nightwind and The Fool on the Hill. As you can see, there's plenty of Beatles fare, a Burt Bacharach-Hal David tune, a Harry Nilsson hit, two French pop songs and the obscure My Mood Is You by Carl Sigman, and Robert Kessler and Robert Scott's Nightwind, a song first recorded by Grady Tate on his Slaves album for Skye in 1969.
For me, the standouts are Watch What Happens, The Fool on the Hill, My Mood Is You and Nightwind.
Horne and Szabó play off each other with elan and artistry throughout, as if it's 2 a.m. Meanwhile, McFarland's arrangements are tailored differently on each track, as if he were designing a new dress for each of Horne's performances. I can't say enough good things about this album. It's a must own.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Lena & Gabor released as Watch What Happenshere.
In May 1961, Jack Sheldon recorded what today is one of his rarest and most interesting albums—A Jazz Profile of Ray Charles (Reprise). Over two days, the West Coast trumpeter recorded with a trio—Marty Paich (p,org), Joe Mondragon (b) and John Markham (d)., and when the album came out in July, the back cover featured an essay by Ray Charles praising Sheldon.
The songs on the album are Am I Blue?, Georgia on My Mind, When Your Lover Has Gone, Cherry, Come Rain or Come Shine, Just for a Thrill, Moonlight in Vermont, One Mint Julep, Rosetta, Basin Street Blues, There Is No You and 'Deed I Do.
What's particularly fascinating about this album is how much air Sheldon puts through his horn and how ruminative his playing is as he takes on Charles's singing voice. Also terrific is Paich's quirky organ, which has a hard tonality set to sound like Charles' organ on Genius + Soul = Jazz, released two months earlier. Paich almost as if the organ is an accordion, sustaining chords until his fingers move seamlessly on to the next one, making it seem as if the instrument is being operated by a bellows.
Paich in 1961 was busy writing arrangements for Sammy Davis Jr., Mavis Rivers, Ann Margret, Frances Faye and Ray Charles. During this period, drummer Markham recorded live with Benny Goodman (as did Sheldon) and Frank Sinatra and was in the studio with Al Hibbler. As for bassist Mondragon, he was on Paich's recordings with Sammy Davis and Ann Margret and well as recordings by Johnny Williams, Bob Cooper, Pete Rugolo, Ella Fitzgerald, Shorty Rogers and Claude Williamson.
For those who dig Sheldon, this is an opportunity to hear him out in the open, with just a supportive trio. The result is wonderful evidence of his technique, his improvisational choices and his soul.
JazzWax tracks: Sadly, this album has never been re-issued in the digital age. Perhaps a label will release it on CD and download with another rare Sheldon album.
Whether you're overjoyed or devastated by the results of the American Presidential election, I'm turning JazzWax over to organists today to help readers celebrate or cope. The organ is the only instrument I know that can have it both ways:
Largely forgotten today is Joe Henderson, and I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps it's because the tenor saxophonist made his mark in the 1960s, when fewer jazz fans were paying close attention. Or maybe it was because most of his best albums during the period were sideman dates. Or it could be that Wayne Shorter and John Coltrane were so dominant that there was little limelight left. Whatever the reason, Henderson deserves far more attention than he has received in recent years.
Henderson made his mark recording nearly 30 albums as a sideman and leader for Blue Note between 1963 and '68. These included leadership classics such as Page One, Our Thing, In 'N' Out and Mode for Joe. Now, Edel Germany GmbH has re-issued as a download Henderson's only studio album for MPS—Mirror, Mirror. Recorded in January 1980, the album featured Joe Henderson (ts), Chick Corea (p), Ron Carter (b) and Billy Higgins (d).
There's something for everyone on this album. The title track by Chick is a lilting waltz, Ron's Candlelight is a deeply felt ballad and the bassist's Keystone has Thelonious Monk touches. Henderson's Joe's Bolero is a free-jazz opus that shows off Henderson's modal chops, the standard What's New? features a crisp walking bassline tempo, while Chick's Blues for Liebestraum is perhaps the album's finest track, with Henderson's cappuccino-rich tones and low-register lines filling the ear but never crowding it. Chick is superb throughout the album, as are Ron and Higgins.
If you're unfamiliar with Henderson, start with Una Mas, trumpeter Kenny Dorham's superb Blue Note album from 1963. Then dig into Henderson's leadership dates for the label.
As for Henderson's sideman sessions, he appears on many of the most important jazz albums of the 1960s and '70s. He's on Grant Green's Idle Moments, Lee Morgan's The Sidewinder, Andrew Hill's Point of Departure, Horace Silver's Song for My Father, Larry Young's Unity, Bobby Hutcherson's Stick Up!, McCoy Tyner's The Real McCoy, Freddie Hubbard's Red Clay and Woody Shaw's Rosewood.
Clearly, Henderson deserves a careful listen and lots of praise.
Joe Henderson died in June 2001. He was 64.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Joe Henderson's newly released Mirror, Mirror on MPS at iTunes and here.
JazzWax clip: Here's the title track from Mirror, Mirror...
Marc Myers writes regularly for The Wall Street Journal and is author of "Anatomy of 55 More Songs," "Anatomy of a Song," "Rock Concert: An Oral History" and "Why Jazz Happened." Founded in 2007, JazzWax has won three Jazz Journalists Association awards.
