JazzWax

Dave Brubeck: Zurich '64

In September 1964, the Dave Brubeck Quartet was in Zurich, Switzerland, on one of its countless tours of Europe. The group—Brubeck on piano, Paul Desmond on alto saxophone, Eugene Wright on bass and Joe Morello on drums—appeared at the city's Kongresshaus concert hall. Desmond's Take Five had become a massive international hit for the group, and Dave was a crossover phenomenon, bridging the gap between emotional jazz and the rational classical tradition. On the road to promote his Time Changes album, released in early '64, Dave and Desmond once again delivered a live-performance one-two punch.

Dave often favored rocking live audiences into a near-hypnotic state with his powerfully played rhythmic classical-inspired chords. When he finished his tumultuous improvisation, Desmond would slip in and provide an impossibly seductive melodic jazz solo on the high end of his alto register. This sparkling heavy-light change-up was in evidence during the Zurich concert, released recently in the States on CD thanks to the TCB label as Swiss Radio Days: Dave Brubeck Quartet, Zurich 1964 (cover at top).

Dave opens the concert with Audrey, an original he wrote with Desmond and had recorded 10 years earlier on Brubeck Time. The Zurich version is far superior, with its delicate, seductive touch and Desmond's feathery articulation.

Dave's Cable Car, a 6/8 waltz, was first recorded a year earlier in 1963 on Time Changes. On top of the restless melody, Morello plays brushes that emulate the sound of San Francisco's cable cars. It's pure joy.

The first time Dave recorded You Go to My Head in 1946 with his octet, it was executed as an optimistic ballad. Here, the quartet gives it a medium-tempo, walking-bass reading, with Desmond breaking your heart on his breezy solo. It's one of the very best instrumental recordings of the song.

When Dave launches into Take Five, the audience responds with a tidal-wave roar. It's a fairly standard rendition, but Morello steals the show with his extended, tour-de-force drum solo, unleashing everything he has. After all, he was responsible for keeping that 5/4 beat.

Koto Song was first recorded in the studio for Jazz Impressions of Japan in June 1964. Interestingly, Koto Song was the only tune from the album that became a standard. The album's recording began in 1960, following Dave's 1958 world tour for the U.S. State Department, which stopped off in Japan. But the album had to be sidelined for a few years due to touring and other "impressions" projects.

Pennies From Heaven receives a classic uptempo treatment by the quartet, with Dave hammering out chords before Desmond slides in with his parfait-like solo.

Morello's Shim Wa was first recorded by the drummer for his own It's About Time album in 1962 but not released on the album. The 6/8 waltz then wound up on the Dave Brubeck Quartet's Time Changes album in 1963.

Dave's Dziekuje (or Thank You in Polish) is a bright tune with an Eastern European flavor. It appeared on Jazz Impressions of Eurasia in 1958 and is a lovely, up-tempo closer.

Like many albums in the Swiss Radio Days series, this one is essential listening if you love the Dave Brubeck Quartet. The sound is clear and the playing extraordinary. Dave was a marvel and, with Desmond, pure gold. The music remains timeless.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find the CD version of Swiss Radio Days: Dave Brubeck Quartet, Zurich 1964 (TCB) here.

JazzWax clip: Here's Audrey...

JazzWax note: To read my at-home interview with Dave Brubeck for The Wall Street Journal in 2010, go here.

Big Sid Catlett: 1944-46

Back in January, I posted on drummers Gene Krupa and Big Sid Catlett, whose styles were quite similar in their sharp, swinging tap-dance attack. As noted then, Catlett was one of the most influential and dynamic drummers of the 1940s. Sadly, he died in 1951, which means his entire career was spent in the 78rpm era, and his clutch of leadership sessions were recorded only between 1944 and 1946.

In 1944, these included four sides for Commodore, featuring Ben Webster (ts), Marlowe Morris (p) and John Simmons (b) (Sleep, Linger Awhile, Memories of You and Just a Riff). and two more with the same group for Onyx (1-2-3 Blues and I've Found a New Baby).

Next came Sidney Catlett and the Regis All Stars (for Regis Records), featuring Charlie Shavers (tp), Edmond Hall (cl), Frank Socolow (ts), Eddie Heywood (p) and Oscar Pettiford (b) (Blues in Room 920, Sweet Georgia Brown and Blue Skies).

The same group, minus Hall, recorded two more as Sid Catlett and the Big City Jazzmen (Blue Skies and Thermo-Dynamics). Then in January 1945, Big Sid Catlett's Band recorded four sides for Capitol in Los Angeles. The band featured Joe Guy (tp), Bull Moose Jackson (as), Bumps Myers and Illinois Jacquet (ts), Horace Henderson (p), Al Casey (g) and John Simmons (b). The tracks were I Never Knew; Love for Sale; Just You, Just Me and Henderson Romp.

Finally, in 1946, Catlett recorded for the Manor label with Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis (ts), Bill Gooden (org,celeste,vcl), Pete Johnson (p), Jimmy Shirley (g) and Gene Ramey (b). They recorded Organ Boogie, Organ blues, Sherry Wine Blues, Open the Door Richard, Shirley's Boogie and Humoresque Boogie. Of the bunch, Sherry Wine Blues is most fascinating, pairing Davis, the blues modernist with boogie-woogie pianist Johnson topped by Gooden's celeste.

The reason I provided so much detail above is because you're going to need it. The tracks are available on The Chronological Sid Catlett, 1944-1946, which runs around $84. But if you simply want to listen to them, you can hear the complete album at YouTube. Here are Catlett's leadership sessions above (plus Sometimes I'm Happy and How High the Moon led by Al Casey and His Sextet for Capitol with Gerald Wilson on piano, Willie Smith on alto sax, Illinois Jacquet on tenor sax, Horace Henderson on piano, Al Casey on guitar, John Simmons on bass and Catlett on drums; the album opens with Rose Room in 1944, a V-disc of the Esquire Metropolitan Opera House Jam Session featuring Barney Bigard on clarinet, Art Tatum on piano, Al Casey on guitar, Oscar Pettiford on bass and Catlett on drums, with writer George Simon announcing)...

A special thanks to Doug Paterson.

Horace, Leon and Frank

Horace Parlan (1931-2017), a hard bop pianist who overcame a polio-stricken right hand to become one of the finest trio and solo pianists of his generation, died in Denmark on Feb. 23. He was 86. I recently posted about Parlan here and here. Among Parlan's finest group recordings are the Blue Note albums he recorded with Stanley Turrentine and Dexter Gordon. In tribute to Parlan, here's Gordon's Society Red, with Dexter Gordon (ts), Freddie Hubbard (tp), Horace Parlan (p), George Tucker (b) and Al Harewood (d). Be sure to dig how Parlan voices his chords behind Gordon and Hubbard and how he builds his gospel-jazz piano solo...

Leon Ware (1940-2017), a sensual-soul singer-songwriter who was perhaps best known for producing Marvin Gaye's I Want You (1976) album and co-writing the title song, died on Feb. 23. He was 77. To read my two-part interview with Leon in 2009, go here and here. Here's Leon singing I Want You in 2001...

In The Wall Street Journal this week, I interviewed restaurateur and celebrity chef Tom Colicchio of TV's Top Chef fame (go here). Tom grew up in Elizabeth, N.J., and talks about how he started cooking, the meaning of fresh food in his Italian neighborhood and about the blueberry pie that got away.

Also in the WSJ, I interviewed comedian and impressionist Rich Little on Frank Sinatra's You and Me, from his Trilogy album in 1980 (go here). As Little notes, no matter how close you were to the Chairman, if he did you a favor, you were even and you were never as close again. Here's the song, by Carole Bayer Sager and Peter Allen...

More Larry Coryell. A special thanks to Jimi Mentis for sending along this clip of the late Larry Coryell at Yoshi's in Oakland, Calif., in 2013...

And speaking of Larry Coryell, Chris Cowles, who hosts jazz and R&B shows on radio station WRTC-FM in Hartford, Ct., sent along this link to his fabulous three-hour Coryell tribute show (with some Blue Mitchell mixed in). Here are the tracks in case you want to buy or listen to them on Spotify:

Hour 1
The Great Escape — Larry Coryell
Are You Too Clever — Larry Coryell
Yin — The Eleventh House
The Jam With Albert — Larry Coryell
For Mod’s Only — Chico Hamilton
Gen. Mojo’s Well Laid Plan — Gary Burton
Elementary Guitar Solo No. 5 — Larry Coryell
After Later — Larry Coryell

Hour 2
Gypsy Queen — Larry Coryell
Witchitai-to — Jim Pepper
Stiff Neck — Larry Coryell
Cleo’s Mood — Larry Coryell
Things Go Wrong — John Mayall
Yeah Ya Right — Blue Mitchell
Blue On Blue — Blue Mitchell
Blue Caper — David Newman

Hour 3
The Windjammer — Grant Green
Got To Be This Way — John Mayall
Who Done It — Blue Mitchell
Flat Backing — Blue Mitchell
Driving Till The Break Of Day — John Mayall
Dodge City — Sonny Red
Worried Mind — John Mayall
Everybody Wants My Good Thing — Papa John Creech
Sitting Here Thinking — John Mayall
Low-Lee-Tah — Eleventh House

Terry Teachout. In reading Terry's Facebook page, I saw that he referenced this dance sequence for I Ain't Hep to That Step But I'll Dig It, featuring Fred Astaire and Paulette Goddard from Second Chorus (1940), backed by Artie Shaw's orchestra...

What the heck. Speaking of Shaw, here's the band with Dick Haymes singing Count Every Star in 1950...

Here's the version you're probably more familiar with, the 1950 B-side by the Ravens...

And here's the first recording of the song in 1950 by Ray Anthony, with an Adios riff motif and a Glenn Miller Orchestra reed voicing. Dick Noel is the vocalist...

Oddball album cover of the week.

In Germany, where this 1960s album appeared, Hammond consoles apparently doubled as phones.

Larry Coryell in Cologne: 1994

In 1994, Larry Coryell was in Cologne, Germany, and performed with French guitarist Bireli Lagrene and the mighty Hungarian bassist Aladár Pege. Fortunately the concert was captured for German television. The superlative results not only are blissful to hear but we also get to see what jazz is all about—the warm intimate improvisational conversation between good friends. A special thanks to Jimi Mentis for sending along the link. What a glorious way to end the week and pay tribute to the late Larry Coryell. Here's 1 hour and 20 minutes of musical kinship...

The Jazz Record Turns 100

On Sunday, Feb. 26, the first jazz record will celebrate its 100th anniversary. In 1917, the Original Dixieland Jass Band recorded two sides of a Victor 78rpm—Dixie Jass Band One-Step and Livery Stable Blues. The result was what is now considered to be the earliest jazz recording. The quintet featured Nick LaRocca (cnt,dir), Eddie Edwards (tb), Larry Shields (cl), Henry Ragas (p) and Tony Sbarbaro (d). Where was the recording made? In New York, on 38th St., just west of Fifth Ave. [Google Maps image of the building where the recording was made, on the top floor]

In 2012, I wrote a feature for The Wall Street Journal on the music and the exact location of the recording session. In honor of the jazz record's centennial, here's that article:

Start Spreadin' the Blues
The Wall Street Journal
February 21, 2012

By Marc Myers
(c) Marc Myers LLC

New York

Rocking back in his office chair several weeks ago, Jack Azizo seemed stunned. "That was done here?" asked the 57-year-old co-owner of Jimmy Sales Corp., a men's-accessories company based in Manhattan. Mr. Azizo had just been told that the very first jazz phonograph record was made in his company's 12th-floor office space on Feb. 26, 1917. "I can't believe this—I love jazz," he said.

If New Orleans is the cradle of jazz, then New York's Garment District is where jazz spoke its first words. Ninety-five years ago, members of the Original Dixieland Jass Band (ODJB) boarded the freight elevator at 46 W. 38th St. and rode to the top floor. When the five musicians arrived at the new studio of the Victor Talking Machine Co., the quintet set up their instruments and recorded two songs—"Dixieland Jass Band One-Step" and "Livery Stable Blues."

Released weeks later, the 78-rpm record became an overnight sensation—and a fitting start to jazz's future. On one side was a blues and on the other a dance number—two forms that jazz would rely on for decades to come.

"These songs by the ODJB were terrific, expressive tunes that changed popular music overnight," said Dan Morgenstern, a jazz historian and author of "Living With Jazz." "The impact of their syncopated approach can only be compared to records by Elvis Presley in the mid-1950s. Everything changed after their release."

Despite the band's boastful name, the Original Dixieland Jass Band wasn't quite as original as it claimed. "Black musicians in New Orleans had been playing the music that would come to be called jazz as early as 1906," said Bruce Raeburn, curator of Tulane University's Hogan Jazz Archive. "The idea to form a group and take the show on the road wasn't really theirs either."

That honor belongs to a Northern promoter, who in 1916 convinced several white musicians from New Orleans to form a pre-ODJB band and relocate to Chicago. Another New Orleans dance band—Tom Brown's Band From Dixieland—had already had success playing there at local restaurants. Shortly after the musicians arrived, they were renamed the ODJB and met Max Hart, Al Jolson's agent. He booked them into a New York restaurant near Columbus Circle in January 1917.

Within weeks of the ODJB's engagement, Columbia Graphophone Co. executives caught wind of the uptown excitement and invited the band down to its Woolworth Building recording studio. "But when they performed there on Jan. 31, the wailing music was either too difficult to record or the executives didn't care much for what they heard," Mr. Raeburn said.

Paid for their time, the musicians left dejected but not discouraged. They quickly approached Victor, which had just moved to 46 W. 38th St. The record company jumped at the chance to best Columbia.

When the ODJB musicians set up their instruments on Feb. 26, Victor engineers placed the musicians at different distances from the large conical horn that served as a microphone in those days. The engineers made test pressings and even strung wires near the ceiling to absorb the sonic overtones.

At the end of the recording session, band cornetist and leader Nick LaRocca told Victor engineers that the name of his blues number was "Livery Stable Blues." But after the band left, Victor executives gave the song the more playful title "Barnyard Blues." And that's when trouble began.

Sensing an opportunity, agent Hart rushed out to copyright the new Victor title and song—but under his own name. Accidentally left out of the name-change loop, Victor's pressing plant attached "Livery Stable Blues" labels to the records instead.

Months later in Chicago, Alcide Nuñez, the ODJB's former clarinetist, who had left the band in 1916 after clashes with leader LaRocca, heard the record. But when Nuñez tried to purchase the song's arrangements for his own band, he discovered that "Livery Stable Blues" had never been copyrighted.

So Nuñez went to a Chicago publisher and secured credit for the song title. When sheet music began appearing, LaRocca halted its sale with an injunction, and a lawsuit followed. The judge hearing the case eventually ruled that neither LaRocca nor Nuñez would be granted a copyright. Doubts were raised about LaRocca's own originality as well as the practicality of trying to copyright a blues.

With a bang of the gavel, "Livery Stable Blues"—the B-side of jazz's first record—passed into the public domain, free for all to record. By 1920 the ODJB's popularity began to wane, and in 1925 the group disbanded.

Several weeks ago, Mr. Azizo was asked if his office had a CD player. It did, and he put on the disc that this writer provided. As the ODJB's frantic music played, Mr. Azizo shook his head. "Can you imagine if these walls could talk?" he said. "The last time this music was heard up here was probably when these guys were standing around playing it." (c) Marc Myers LLC

JazzWax tracks: Here are the two sides of the first jazz record:

Here's Dixie Jass Band One-Step...

And here's Livery Stable Blues...

Remembering Larry Coryell

The importance of Larry Coryell in jazz history cannot be overstated. Whether you favor jazz-rock fusion or not, it was a revolutionary style that dominated jazz in the late 1960s and '70s thanks largely to technological advances, a shift in pop culture and the demands and interests of a new generation of players and listeners. To help us fully understand the late guitarist's contribution (see my post yesterday), I reached out to three dear friends—vibraphonist Gary Burton, trumpeter Randy Brecker and guitarist Steve Khan, all of whom were close to Coryell and instrumental to fusion's launch and evolution:

Gary Burton: "Larry was exactly what I was looking for as I searched for musicians to start a rock-oriented jazz quartet. We all were primarily jazz musicians, but we all also appreciated the Beatles, Bob Dylan and other newly arrived rock and folk artists. Larry’s unique mix of jazz and rock melodic phrases was just what I pictured in my mind for the band.


"When we went into the studio at RCA in 1967 to record Duster, our first quartet album, none of us realized we were starting a new category of jazz. We just thought it would be interesting to mix elements of rock and jazz in our new jazz group. The surprise came a few months later after the media and audiences picked up on what we were doing. We toured pretty much non-stop for the next two years as a result of Duster's popularity and success, after which Larry moved on and eventually formed his own bands.

Randy Brecker: "The thing that surprised me most about Larry's playing was the fact that he really was an improviser in every sense of the word. You never knew what he was going to play next. It could be something in any key, any genre or any sonic palette. His son, Julian, [a guitarist and singer-songwriter], put it best when we were having a late-night talk about his dad (and I'm paraphrasing): 'Because he always took chances and played whatever came into his head, you never knew what you were going to get, so every night was different. Maybe some nights things didn't quite come off, but on nights when they did, man, there was nothing like it!'

"Larry also could play any genre of music you could name, and they all sounded completely authentic. His early group, the Free Spirits, was a great example of this. The music could and would go anywhere. I was like a sixth member of the band and would sit in a lot. The most memorable night I remember was at Steve Paul's The Scene on New York's West 46th St. Dave Liebman also sat in, and Jimi Hendrix was lurking around checking us out. We literally created a shimmering and constantly shifting 'wall of sound' that we immersed ourselves in for half an hour. It was just amazing. Those were exciting days, and Larry singularly was at the helm of the jazz-rock movement. Everyone looked up to him. [Editor's note: You'll find the Free Spirits' Live at the Scene: February 22nd 1967 here.]


"Larry and I met before either of us came to New York, in the summer of 1964. I was chasing after my college sweetheart and taking classes at the University of Washington and Larry was there, too. He had a Hammond B3 organ trio gig going nightly at a club called the Embers. I would come by and play frequently."

Steve Khan: "When I first heard Larry during the late 1960s, what first struck me, in the context of the Duster album, was that the full spectrum of the guitar and its possibilities was wide open. One could play anything and from any style, and, in a jazz context. It was now all O.K. to play. Then, when I saw the Gary Burton Quartet play in Los Angeles several times during those years, there seemed to be a new energy infusing the jazz of that period. Along with the Charles Lloyd Quartet of that time and, of course, Miles Davis' electric band, the fusion era was well on its way. It was an incredible time for realizing what was possible, and Larry was right at the front of the movement as far as guitar was concerned.

"I think what made Larry so special was that he was fearless. He just attacked all music, any music, with the same abandon. He would play a borrowed guitar, an unfamiliar guitar, and go at it with the same energy. Our duo came about because of business considerations from his managers at the time. There were all these gigs that did not pay enough for his Eleventh House band, and his managers hated turning down income. So they asked me if I'd be willing to put together a guitar duet setting with and for Larry. I wasn't sure that I could do it. But, Larry and I talked. By then, we had been friends for a long, long time. I decided to just bring in the music that I had always felt closest to.

"I find it so ironic that I'm still interpreting that same catalog of music from Blue Note, Riverside, Verve, Columbia and other labels from that era. At the time, I wanted us to cover works that no one else was touching on guitar then. And that's what we did. Remember, we're talking about 1974. There really were no other acoustic guitar duos at that moment. Everything was electric.

"It's ironic that on Backlog, my new CD, by pure coincidence I'm playing three tunes from Bobby Hutcherson albums: Head Start and Rojo from Happenings, and Catta from his Dialogue album. I mention this because back in '74, I had us playing Hutcherson's gorgeous Bouquet, also from Happenings. Life is so strange sometimes. I miss Larry."

Larry Coryell (1943-2017)

Larry Coryell, a guitarist who started out playing rock 'n' roll as a teen but wound up pioneering jazz-rock fusion starting in the mid-1960s and then psychedelic fusion in the early '70s, influencing a generation of guitarists, died on Feb. 19. He was 73.

Born in Texas and raised in Seattle, Coryell studied journalism at the University of Washington while taking guitar lessons privately. In 1965 when he was 22, Coryell moved to New York and took classical guitar lessons. He arrived in the city just as instrumental folk and electric rock were intriguing skilled musicians and captivating young audiences.

Coryell's early group, the Free Spirits, was a fascinating hybrid of folk and R&B, combining the California sound of the Byrds and bluesy pop instrumental riffs found on R&B singles by groups such as the Coasters. The Free Spirits' first album, Out of Sight and Sound (1966), featured Jim Pepper (ts,fl), Larry Coryell (g,sitar,vcl), Columbus "Chip" Baker (g,vcl), Chris Hills (el-b) and Bob Moses (d).

The following year, Coryell shifted to a more bluesy avant-garde jazz style on drummer Bob Moses's Love Animal (1967), an album that showcased Coryell's sophistication and penchant for experimentation.

But it wasn't until Coryell's appearance on Gary Burton's albums Duster (April 1967) and Lofty Fake Anagram (Aug. 1967) that he and Gary began to invent a new approach that combined the dreamy energy of rock with the wanderlust of jazz improvisation and rural romanticism of country. The album had a profound effect on young guitarists, including a teenage John Scofield, who told me the following last night from Seattle:

"Larry was at the vanguard of the jazz-rock movement and could play rock, blues, country and jazz. He was the first guitarist I heard who put it all together. In 1967, I was 16 when my guitar teacher told me about Duster by the Gary Burton Quartet. The album still sounds great today. I became a big fan. I first met Larry in 1975 when I was new on the scene. He befriended me and helped me enormously. You couldn't help but love him. He'll be sorely missed."

Coryell's rock guitar began to absorb San Fransisco influences and flowered on his first leadership albums Lady Coryell (1968) and Coryell (1969), which included Jam With Albert.

In March 1973, Coryell recorded Introducing The Eleventh House, which established his long-form psychedelic fusion band, featuring Randy Brecker (tp), Mike Mandel (p,synt), Larry Coryell (g), Danny Trifan (b) and Alphonse Mouzon (d). In the early 1970s, with the rise of FM radio, 8-track tape players, and more affordable high-end component stereos systems, Chick Corea formed Return to Forever, John McLaughlin started the Mahavishnu Orchestra and the supergroup Weather Report was launched. Touring college towns and campuses in the '70s, jazz-rock fusion bands fired the imaginations of university students looking for a more mystical form of rock that abandoned vocals for long, expressive instrumental solos. By the mid-1970s, fusion bands—with their ability to crank up the volume of electrified instruments, including synthesizers—soared in popularity, marginalizing the appeal of acoustic jazz and sidelining the traditional form until its revival in the 1980s.

Here are my favorite Larry Coryell tracks that trace his eclecticism and influence on the development of fusion:

Here's Larry Coryell in 1966 with the Free Spirits playing Cosmic Daddy Dancer (dig traces of the Coasters' Yakety Yak)...

Here's Coryell with Bob Moses on Rock Fantasy in 1967...

Here's Coryell and Gary Burton with Steve Swallow (b) and Roy Haynes (d), on Gary's Duster album, playing Ballet...

Here's Coryell's Jam With Albert on his album, Coryell (the "Albert" here is electric bassist Albert Stinson...

Here's Coryell playing The Vamp on trumpeter Randy Brecker's 1968 album Score...

Here's Coryell and Miroslav Vitous (b) and Billy Cobham (d) playing Gloria's Step from Coryell and John McLauglin's Spaces album in 1970...

And here's Ism-Ejercicio from Introducing the Eleventh House with Larry Coryell, recorded in 1973...

Prez-ident's Day: Lester Young

One of finest recorded versions of One O'Clock Jump features Count Basie at the 1957 Newport Jazz Festival. It's on the album Count Basie at Newport (Verve) and includes powerhouse solos by tenor saxophonists Lester ("Prez") Young and Illinois Jacquet, and trumpeter Roy Eldridge. Since today is President's Day in the U.S., a holiday, what better way to celebrate than by listening to Young raise the hairs on your forearms. His solo comes first. Here's One O'Clock Jump...

McEnroe, Carroll and Tessa

In The Wall Street Journal this week, I interviewed John McEnroe for my "House Call" column (go here). We talked about growing up in Queens, why he disputed line calls the way he did and where his tempestuous nature comes from. [Photo above of John McEnroe from Jimmy Kimmel Live at YouTube]

Also in the WSJ, my chat with society event-planner extraordinaire David Monn on his favorite song, Regina Belle's Dream in Color (go here). [Photo above of David Monn, courtesy of David Monn's press reel]

Barbara Carroll. In the wake of my tribute to late pianist Barbara Carroll, I received the following from saxophonist Bill Kirchner...

"Hi there. JazzWax readers may be interested to know that bassist Joe Shulman, whose name you include in the personnel of the audio clips featured in your post on Barbara Carroll, was Barbara's husband. They married in 1954 and he died of a heart attack in 1957."


Harry Belafonte. Following my post on singer Harry Belafonte's jazz start in 1949, arranger Bob Freedman sent along the following:

"Your post reminded me of lying on the living room floor listening to my parents' console radio at midnight while Symphony Sid played some of the best records I'd ever heard. Sid gave a lot of play to Harry Belafonte's recording of Lean on Me, and he always referred to Harry as "The Cinderella Gentleman." I remember how Brew Moore's solo on that record impressed me, though I never quite understood the "Cinderella Gentleman" thing.

"Early in the 1976 tour I did with Harry, he and Brazilian guitarist and accordionist Sivuca would jam some pretty nice stuff during the show. I recall how Harry lit up when I mentioned that he and Sivuca were going bring back the popularity of jazz. Too bad that I was wrong about that."

Speaking of Brazil, go here to watch and listen to the great Rio drummer Renato Massa and his tribute to bossa nova drummer Milton Banana, who died in 1998. Unfortunately the video clip can't be embedded but it's well worth a click.

Tessa Souter, a superb vocalist, will be appearing at Dizzy's Club Coca Cola in New York on Tuesday, March 7, with shows at 7:30 and 9:30. Tessa will be joined by pianist Adam Platt, guitarist Yotam Silberstein, bassist Sean Smith and drummer Billy Drummond. [Photo above of Tessa Souter from Tessa's Twitter page]

A Love Supreme. Following my post on the similarities between Art Farmer and Quincy Jones's Mau Mau in 1953 and John Coltrane's A Love Supreme in 1964, I received the following email from jazz critic and author Bob Blumenthal:

"For another example of what we (or at least I) refer to as the Love Supreme riff, check out Eddie Harris' 1967 recording of Sham Time from his album The Electrifying Eddie Harris. He introduces the riff in his solo (at 2:45) and develops it for the next half minute. Then he brings it back as his background accompaniment to Jodie Christian's piano solo at 4:40, allowing the phrase to grow into a full horn section riff at 5:14. This always struck me as a perfect example of Albert Murray's point about the proximity of the Saturday Night Function and the Sunday Morning Service."

Here's Eddie Harris playing Sham Time...

What the heck: Here's Barbara Carroll playing Barbara's Carol...

Oddball album cover of the week.

Where in heaven's name was this sock hop held? The so-called "land of hi-fi" looks like the basement of a house in a country behind the old Iron Curtain. Not sure which is odder, the hair style on the girl dancing, her unflattering shorts or the odd sock roll. The guy's outfit isn't much better. The music, on the other hand, was solid...

Cherry Wainer: Funky Organ

Virtually unknown in the States, Cherry Wainer was a British organist who appeared most often on German television in the 1960s as a duo with her husband, drummer Don Storer. What she lacked in time and swing she more than made up for with energy and charisma. Wainer died in 2014. Here are a few clips:

Here she is playing the Peter Gunn theme...

Here she is playing A Taste of Honey...

Here's Wainer behind Ernestine Anderson singing Moanin'...

And here's Wainer playing Take Five...