Jazz was so potent in the 1950s that young experimental filmmakers in New York were inspired to express the music's improvisational feel in their avant-garde work. In researching the subject recently, I came across four filmmakers who used used the city as a backdrop for their emotional, abstract cinema. Here are four short films, with a fifth clip added as a bonus [photo above of director Shirley Clarke courtesy of Wikipedia]...
Here's D.A. Pennebaker's Daybreak Express, inspired by Duke Ellington's recording. The five-minute film, from 1953, captured New York's Third Ave. elevated train two years before it was torn down, with Ellington's music as a backdrop...
Here's Francis Thompson's N.Y., N.Y. from 1957, a collection of New York scenes that he filmed with a special kaleidoscopic lens...
Here's Shirley Clarke's Bridges-Go-Round from 1958, featuring a montage of New York's bridges with superimposition. (In 1961, Clarke would film The Connection, with pianist Freddie Redd and alto saxophonist Jackie McLean)...
And here's William Klein's Broadway by Light, from 1958, which gives you a sense of Martin Scorsese's tonal inspiration for the nocturnal Times Square scenes in Taxi Driver (1976)...
Bonus:Here are the glorious musical selections from Shirley Clarke's The Connection. Clarke died in 1997...
Frank Deford, a legendary sportswriter with Sports Illustrated from 1962 to 1989 and again from 1998 to the present, as well as an NPR sports commentator for the past 32 years, died on May 28. He was 78.
Frank had a way of profiling sports legends with deceptively simple language and colorful insights, a style that became the gold standard for sports magazine feature writing. When I worked for the sports section of The New York Times between 1980 and '85, Frank's profiles in SI would force me to stop what I was doing and sit down slowly in the newsroom while reading them. Frank wrote with an engaging everyman style. Frank's prose never forced you to reach for a dictionary nor did he dumb down what he wanted to say. The story drove the profile from a common-sense vantage point.
So imagine my joy last year when I had an opportunity to interview Frank for my "Playlist" column in the Wall Street Journal. On the phone, Frank talked about why Ella Fitzgerald's Someone to Watch Over Me had personal meaning. As Frank told me his story, I wrote and then crafted Frank's tale in his voice. Wow, I thought, I'm ghostwriting Frank Deford! During our conversation, Frank was a joy—funny, easy going and charming. When we were finished 30 minutes later, I came to realize that at his core, Frank was a gentleman and a humorist in the Mark Twain tradition.
In tribute to Frank, here's my Wall Street Journal "Playlist" column interview on Someone to Watch Over Me, as told to me and then edited in Frank's voice. Like all of Frank's profiles over the years, he had a great story to tell:
Frank Deford on Gershwin’s ‘Someone to Watch Over Me’
The sportswriter ends up with the right piano-bar request
Late in the summer of 1964, I was down at the Delaware shore with a bunch of guys who had rented a beach house. One night, we threw a party, and I spotted a girl who knocked me out. She looked like a fashion model. Lightning struck.
Over the next couple of days we spent a lot of time together. Carol was indeed a top runway model, and I was head over heels for her. I sensed maybe she was actually buying my act, too.
Back in New York, I asked Carol out to dinner. Afterward we went to a snazzy piano bar nearby. I was more smitten than ever. She was smart and funny.
We sat around the piano, and at some point the piano player asked me what I wanted to hear. The first song I thought of was Chuck Berry’s “Too Much Monkey Business,” but I knew it wasn’t appropriate for that place.
Instead I asked for “Ace in the Hole,” a sassy Cole Porter show tune urging women to have a guy on the side, since most men invariably disappoint. Feeling smug, I looked over at Carol. She didn’t know the song and wasn’t amused. The whole thing was an awkward mess.
Despite my offbeat taste in show tunes, romance blossomed, and Carol and I were engaged. At which point I said to her, “I was in love with you from the moment I saw you.” She said, “I thought I was too, until you asked the piano player for ‘Ace in the Hole’—whatever that was.”
“What would you’ve wanted to hear?” I asked. Carol said she was hoping for something sweet and tender from me, ideally George Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch Over Me”—you know, “There’s a somebody I’m longin’ to see / I hope that he / turns out to be / Someone to watch over me.”
Carol and I married a year after meeting, and we’ll be together 51 years this August. Her favorite version of the song is by Ella Fitzgerald.
Now, every time we’re out and there’s live music, I play it safe and request “Someone to Watch Over Me.” Carol still loves my sense of humor—just not at piano bars. (c) Marc Myers
Thanks for being an inspiration Frank. I'm glad we had a chance to chat.
JazzWax notes: Here's a sampling of Frank's work for Sports Illustrated (go here). And here's a sampling of Frank's NPR commentaries (go here).
Larry Elgart deserves respect, and it looks like he's finally receiving some with the release of a new two-fer from Blue Moon Records—Larry Elgart and His Orchestra: Sophisticated Sixties (1960) and The Shape of Sounds to Come (1961). I've never been a huge fan, but then again I never gave Larry Elgart or his bandleader brother Les much of a chance. Instead, I was more fond of the Maynard Ferguson band during this early '60s period, an orchestra that still sounds like tigers leaping out of trees. Larry Elgart always sounded a little safe—with fairly straight-up, easy-going arrangements like those recorded by Sy Zentner and Les Brown during this time period. But listening to this new CD, I realize now I have to revisit the Elgarts, particularly Larry. There's an arch quality to his bands that I've long overlooked.
These two Elgart albums exhibit his band's jazzy approach and the craftiness of the section writing. They also show off the band's signature sound—the reeds (with Elgart on lead) playing tip-toeing staccato notes in the manner of someone sneaking home at a late hour holding a pair of shoes. The staccato reed notes remind me of the Hal Kemp Orchestra's punctuating muted trumpets in the 1930s.
To give Larry Elgart his just due, I must point out that his bands were strong and agile on tasteful arrangements that weren't easy. The charts on Sophisticated Sixties were by Ernie Wilkins, John Murtaugh and Roger Middleton. The same goes for The Shape of Sounds to Come, with arrangements by Murtaugh, Marty Holmes, Bill Finegan, Bobby Scott and Lew Gluckin. Unfortunately, the superb musicians on both albums were never credited by MGM, so they don't turn up in jazz discographies.
Larry Elgart grew up in New London, Ct., and learned to play piano from his concert pianist mother. Then he switched to the clarinet and later studied the flute with the girl next door who would become his wife. When his high school needed a tenor saxophonist, Elgart auditioned and won the chair. He eventually switched to alto saxophone, the instrument on which he would record prolifically. Elgart studied with saxophonist Hymie Shertzer, who placed him with Charlie Spivak's orchestra. Larry was all of 17. At 23 in 1945, Larry teamed with his older brother, Les, who played the trumpet, to form an orchestra that commissioned arrangements from a young Nelson Riddle, Bill Finegan and Ralph Flanagan. The band lasted only until 1948. In 1953, the brothers signed with Columbia Records and together began turning out dozens and dozens of top-selling dance-band albums.
Today, Larry Elgart is 95. His brother Les died in 1995.
JazzWax tracks:You'll find Larry Elgart and His Orchestra: Sophisticated Sixties and The Shape of Sounds to Comehere and here.
JazzWax clips: Here's a wonderfully paced arrangement of That's All on Sophisticated Sixties...
This week in The Wall Street Journal, I interviewed Lou Piniella, the former Yankee left fielder and manager, for my "House Call" column (go here). Lou talked about growing up in West Tampa, Fla. and the red sauce that gets him weepy.
Also in the WSJ, I interviewed Brazilian jazz pianist Eliane Elias for my "Playlist" column on her favorite song—Antonio Carlos Jobim's Waters of March (go here). She recalls playing it as a piano duet with Jobim at his apartment in the 1980s. Here's a promo video for her new album, Dance of Time (Concord)...
Email ads. Many subscribers to the JazzWax newsletter wondered last week about the ads that suddenly started appearing in the emails. I've taken care of that so they're now ad-free. If you're new to JazzWax and want to subscribe for free so it arrives by email each evening, scroll down the right-hand column until you find "Subscribe Free." Just click the button and type in your email. You'll receive a confirmation link and that's it!
Rolling Stones: Olé,Olé,Olé! At this point, there probably are two dozen documentaries on the Rolling Stones. Off the top of my head, the most powerful ones include Charlie Is My Darling, Robert Frank's Cocksucker Blues, the Maysles brothers and Charlotte Zwerin's Gimme Shelter, Martin Scorsese's Shine a Light, and Let's Spend the Night Together to name a few. But a new film now on DVD and BluRay—Olé,Olé,Olé! (Eagle Rock)—may be the one with the most heart.
The documentary, directed by Paul Dugdale, traces the band's Latin American tour in 2016 leading up to their March concert in Havana, Cuba, where they became the first rock band to play in the country, post-Castro. It's also a concert that almost didn't happen.
Instead of featuring the band performing hit after hit on foreign stages, the film wisely wanders into the culture of each country where the Stones perform. The 10 stops on the tour included cities in Argentina, Uruguay, Colombia, Peru, Brazil and Mexico before the band flew to Havana for the film's crescendo.
But this isn't a Stones worship video nor one that strives to show how youthful they still are. In each country, the cameras explore the locale with the Stones as they reconnect with old local friends, embrace dance, music and food, and let their boundless curiosity run free. What stands out in each country are the miles of hard-core Stones fans—people of all ages who recognize the music as something soulful, purposeful and inspiring. For examples, in Buenos Aires, there's a guy who plays Stones songs on his car stereo and perfectly mimics Mick Jagger's stage choreography in the middle of the street. The film is peppered with moments like this, and South America may have the band's largest, emotionally invested fan base.
Access in the film is terrific. The cameras are in on planning meetings for Havana, they enter Keith Richards' suite when he accidentally opens the door, and they visit back-street courtyards where musicians play the Stones' songs on local instruments (two musicians, in shock, get to visit with Mick at his hotel).
The stadiums in South America are built for soccer and are enormous—with a much bigger capacity than in the States. So the crowd's size in each city is staggering, and adulation for the band's music is palpable and touching. Their love for the band transcends nostalgia or the love of rock renegades. It's deeply rooted in the band's earthy, familiar blues. We also get to see how hard the Stones and crew work on these tours. You quickly come to realize that these guys just throw themselves on the alter of art time after time. The box-office revenue certainly is great, but they could just as easily lay around at home. Their plane and accommodations may have improved but they clearly are doing something with great passion and purpose.
A high point for me comes in a scene when Keith and Mick are sitting casually in a dressing room reminiscing about the birth of Honky Tonk Women. Then Keith begins to play the song how it originally was conceived on his acoustic guitar and Mick sings along. Talk about stripped down! We also learn that Keith carries a primitive-looking wooden club that he uses to ward off the rain (wishful thinking in some cases). In Sao Palo, bassist Ronnie Wood meets up with an older painter he knows from years back and they spend time painting together. The humanism of all four Stones is front and center.
But the film's climax is the Havana concert. It's heartbreaking to hear Cubans tell the interviewer that playing rock records in past decades had led to arrests, and it's breathtaking to see how overcome with excitement the Cubans were in anticipation of the concert, especially older residents who had to play records quietly in secret. Today, the Stones' music is viewed in Cuba as the sound of true liberation, and the crowd's tears reflect their pent-up passion and desire to make up for lost time. As one person from Havana says in the film, "Music has no borders."
This is a worthy documentary for anyone who is remotely curious about the Stones and wants to see the little-known tender side of four guys who still fill seats in their 70s. Here's a promo video...
And here's Keith and Mick singing Honky Tonk Women in a dressing room...
Music for the BBQ. Cooking this weekend? Here are a bunch of my favorite "full albums" on YouTube to keep you company and motivated in the kitchen or in front of the grill...
Here's Clint Eastwood (not that one) & General Saint's Stop That Train (1983) album...
What the heck:Here's Madness's music video for Our House in 1982. The Brit pop hit went to #7 on Billboard's pop chart...
Oddball album cover of the week.
As we can see from the album cover above, when high-fidelity records and turntables first hit the market in the late 1950s, it took two men to explain the new technology's benefits to every woman. And most women, like the one above, did their very best to make it seem like they cared...
There's nothing like starting a holiday weekend with Count Basie. Here's a fabulous four-part documentary directed by Matthew Seig and written by Albert Murray, with terrific interviews and music clips. Good luck keeping your feet still...
Vibraphonist Terry Gibbs, one of the giants of jazz, has just released a fabulous new album—92 Years Young: Jammin' at the Gibbs House (Whaling City Sound). It's a stone-cold swinging killer. Every single track on here is out-of-control great, proving that bebop and true beauty never ages.
Gibbs's recording career goes back to 1946, when he waxed 78s with Aaron Sachs' Manor Re-bops, featuring Tiny Kahn on drums. For the next 71 years, Gibbs has played and recorded with virtually everyone of note. What has always set Gibbs apart is his high-octane energy and gorgeous sense of time. Like bassist Chubby Jackson, Gibbs has always had a wonderful, hip sense of humor and a pure-gut sense of what sounds amazing. As soon as you hear Gibbs's maillots come down on the vibes' steel keys, you know your ears are in for a great ride. There's never any fat or chopped lived with Gibbs.
Among Gibbs's career highlights are his years in Woody Herman's Second Herd; the new Benny Goodman Sextet in the early 1950s; the Terry Gibbs Quartet with pianist Terry Pollard in the mid-'50s; all of his big band albums, particularly his Dream Band of the late 1950s and his many albums with clarinetist Buddy DeFranco. And when Gibbs called his orchestra the Dream Band, here's what he meant:
Al Porcino, Ray Triscari, Conte Candoli and Stu Williamson (tp); Bob Enevoldsen, Vern Friley and Joe Cadena (tb); Joe Maini and Charlie Kennedy (as); Bill Holman (ts,arr); Med Flory (ts); Jack Schwartz (bar); Pete Jolly (p); Terry Gibbs (vib); Max Bennett (b); Mel Lewis (d) and arrangers Marty Paich, Manny Albam, Sy Johnson, Al Cohn and Bob Brookmeyer.
The personnel above is from his live recording at Hollywood's "Seville" in March 1959. There were around six Dream Band albums in all.
Gibbs's new quartet album features John Campbell on piano, Mike Gurrola on bass and his son, Gerry Gibbs, on drums. It's a perfect ensemble. Campbell's elegant, swinging keyboard fires up Gibbs while Gerry keeps superb time and Gurolla plays a smart, solid upright. Age is meaningless when you listen to Gibbs. The guy sounds as if he's 40 years old on here. Which isn't bad considering he retired nearly two years ago.
Here's how Gibbs ran the at-home recording session, from his liner notes for the album:
"We played some, went out back by the pool, had some sandwiches, told stories and laughed, came back and recorded a few more songs. We did this for four days and recorded 32 songs. No playbacks. I would ask about a song and we would play. All in one take. It was really an old fashioned jam session. By the third day, we actually had a band that I wish I was young enough to travel and play with."
That's Gibbs. Like pal Chubby Jackson, Gibbs was born ready.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Terry Gibbs's 92 Years Young: Jammin' at the Gibbs House (Whaling City Sound) here.
The album also is on Spotify.
JazzWax clips: Here's Back Home Again in Indiana from the new album. Dig Gibbs's touch!
Roger Moore, who played a dashing secret agent in TV's The Saint and in seven James Bond films, died on May 23, 2017. He was 89.
Though Roger wasn't a jazz musician he loved music. Back in 2014, I had an opportunity to interview him for one of my Wall Street Journal "Playlist" columns. When I called Roger for the interview, he was living (naturally) in Monte Carlo. Where else would James Bond reside?
A couple of music clips before we start. Here's the opening theme to The Saint...
And here's Shirley Bassey singing the Moonraker (1979) theme...
During our interview, Roger was charming, with a Bond-ian sense of humor, even at age 87. We spoke briefly about his films, and then he told me about his favorite song and why it was special:
Frank Sinatra’s One for My Baby touches me deeply because I’ve actually been in bars with Frank having one more for the road.
Frank was a dear friend—I used to spend Easters and Thanksgivings at his home in Palm Springs, Calif. I’ve seen him sing One for My Baby several times, and he always treated it like a three-act play. All of the lyrics are from the perspective of the drinker—with an introduction, a main part and a wrap-up. You never actually learn any specifics about the fellow’s woes, which I suppose is part of the song’s genius.
Since the fellow has no one to talk to, the lyrics are directed at the barman. “So, set ’em up, Joe, I got a little story I think you should know / We’re drinkin’, my friend, to the end of a brief episode.” Quite honestly, I’ve never been in that situation. When I came out of the Army at age 21, I couldn’t afford to drink in bars for seven years.
I didn’t even get to order James Bond’s martini in the movies. The female leads order it for me. Director Guy Hamilton wanted to have me avoid all things associated with Sean Connery’s character.
But I have been in bars with Frank. In early September 1971, I was having a drink alone at a bar in New York when Frank arrived with a group of people. A witty friend of ours had died a few days earlier—Bennett Cerf, one of the founders of Random House—and then word came that Mike Romanoff, another friend and a Beverly Hills restaurateur, had died hours earlier.
Frank I and knew each other from Hollywood, and he called me over. We had Jack Daniel’s on the rocks and reflected on two lost friends. At one point Frank said, “I’ve got to get younger friends—I can’t take it when older friends die.”
I remember looking at him at that moment and thinking how much he seemed like the character in his song: “So, make it one for my baby and one more for the road / That long, long road.” (c) Marc Myers
A week or so ago, I received a call from Harry Sepulveda. Harry and I go way back. We first met in the 1970s, when I'd stop by to run my fingers through the many Latin-jazz albums at Record Mart, his store in the Times Square subway station. Today the store still exists, though it moved to a more prominent location facing the shuttle when the station was remodeled years ago. Exciting Latin music still pours out the door, adding flavor to the expansive station. Harry calls whenever there's an album I absolutely must hear. This time, his call was about Ray Mantilla's High Voltage, which was just released by Savant Records.
"Papa, how you been?" Harry shouted over the subway din. "Hey, stop down if you can. I want to give you a copy of Ray Mantilla's High Voltage. Ray is fantastic. Man, he's been in the business a long time. The album was produced by Joe Fields, for his label."
I dig Joe, so I stopped by Record Mart a bunch of days ago on my way downtown to dinner with a friend. Harry knows his stuff about Latin music. And Latin-jazz. And jazz. So I love dropping by to chew the fat with him and to see what he thinks is heavy and hip. Before I left his store, Harry pressed the Mantilla album into my hand along with a couple of others.
When I arrived home later that evening, I put on the CD. Wow, was Harry right. The album is beautiful. Mantilla is an old-school Latin percussionist with sterling jazz credits. He recorded extensively with Herbie Mann starting at the dawn of the 1960s and with Larry Coryell and Art Blakey in the late 1960s. In the early 1970s, he was a founding member of Max Roach's M'boom group. He's on more than 75 jazz albums, including Joe Farrell's Canned Funk, Cedar Walton's Mobius, Freddie Hubbard's Windjammer, Jeremy Steig's Firefly and albums by Charles Mingus, Dexter Gordon, Jimmy McGriff, Mose Allison and many others.
On High Voltage, Manilla's percussion is soft, hypnotic and ever-changing. He's joined by Ivan Renta (ts/soprano), Jorge Castro (bs and fl), Guido Gonzalez (tp, flugelhorn), Mike Freeman (vib on tracks 2 &7), Edy Martinez (p, Fender Rhodes), Cucho Martinez (b), Diego Lopez (d) and Maitreya Padukone (tambala on track 5).
What I love most about this album is Mantilla's gentle but swirling Latin-jazz approach, which lets you dig all of the colors in the music without being overwhelmed. In other words, the rhythm is along for the ride, not drowning out the instrumental conversation. Among the highlights are Exit 45, with a lovely Fender solo by Martinez; The Gypsy, with a lengthy tenor sax solo by Renta; Tu No Me Quieres, a nifty cha-cha-cha featuring Freeman on vibes; the standard Ramona, which also is taken as a cha-cha-cha and the jazz standard Solar. Heck, the entire album is enveloping and shrewd. It's everything Harry said it would be: "Killer." Kudos to Joe Fields.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Ray Mantilla's High Voltage (Savant) here.
JazzWax clip: Here's Tue No Me Quieres (You Don't Love Me)...
In the spring of 1956, bassist Oscar Pettiford, in tandem with producer Creed Taylor, began assembling musicians and arrangers for what would become one of the hippest and sexiest jazz orchestras of the mid-decade period. Two studio albums were recorded for ABC-Paramount, where Creed was head of jazz A&R. Back in 2008, when I interviewed Creed, I asked him about the elegant Pettiford recordings:
JazzWax: The Oscar Pettiford Orchestra in Hi-Fi albums were superb. They must have been a thrill for you to produce. Creed Taylor: They were. Oscar and I were great friends. We talked music whenever we got together for dinner or drinks, When the idea for the albums came up, we’d talk about the musicians who were available. Oscar would say, what about so and so? And I’d say fine, but what about so and so? It was like putting together an all-star baseball team. Quincy Jones was there at the very beginning, too, and arranged some of the compositions, though he was uncredited.
Last week, Uptown Records released Oscar Pettiford: New York City 1955-1958, newly discovered live broadcasts of Pettiford's nonet, sextet and big band at New York's Birdland and the Black Pearl on Second Ave., a club owned by Pettiford. As a big fan of Pettiford's Hi-Fi orchestra, I was overjoyed to hear these previously unreleased live recordings. But first, a little background.
Pettiford recorded the first of his two big-band albums for ABC in June 1956. It was called The Oscar Pettiford Orchestra and featured Ernie Royal, Art Farmer (tp), Jimmy Cleveland (tb), Julius Watkins, David Amram (fhr), Gigi Gryce (as,arr), Lucky Thompson (ts,arr), Jerome Richardson (ts,fl), Danny Bank (bar), Tommy Flanagan (p), Oscar Pettiford (b) and Osie Johnson (d).
Then Pettiford put together another ambitious band that included Betty Glamann on harp and recorded the second ABC volume, The Oscar Pettiford Orchestra in Hi Fi, in August 1957. This album's lineup featured Ray Copeland and Art Farmer (tp), (with Kenny Dorham replacing Copeland on a track), Al Grey (tb), Julius Watkins and David Amram (fhr), Gigi Gryce (as,arr), Benny Golson (ts,arr), Jerome Richardson (ts,fl), Sahib Shihab (bar), Dick Katz (p), Betty Glamann (harp), Oscar Pettiford (b,cello), Whitey Mitchell (b) and Gus Johnson (d).
In the more than 12 months between these two studio recordings, Pettiford rehearsed for his second album during runs at Birdland, where the band was broadcast live multiple times on the radio. When I interviewed Dick Katz in 2008, here's what he had to say about Pettiford...
JazzWax: Who was the most exciting musician you’ve worked with? Dick Katz: Probably Roy Eldridge. I consider him to be as big a giant as any you can name, including Louis [Armstrong]. Roy was an amazing artist. The other was Oscar Pettiford. And then Benny Carter.
On the new Uptown release, we have three new radio broadcasts of the second band that aired on May 18, May 26 and sometime between March and June 1957. This orchestra had a special elegance and delicate charm, thanks largely to Glamann's jazz harp. All of this grace was expressed in the band's opening theme, The Gentle Art of Love, written by Pettiford and arranged by Lucky Thompson. Other charts for the band were by Gigi Gryce, Benny Golson and several "unknown" orchestrators.
Also on this new two-CD set are five tracks of Pettiford's nonet that were broadcast from Birdland in September 1955, and 10 tracks by the Oscar Pettiford Sextet in May 1957, featuring Johnny Coles (tp), Sahib Shihab (bs), Hod O'Brien (p), Betty Glamann (harp), Oscar Pettiford (b) and Earl "Buster" Smith (d) at his Black Pearl club. [Photo above from Oscar Pettiford's Birdland band, with Betty Glamann, right]
By the end of 1957, the economics of such a band and the recording demands on the band's top musicians made the Oscar Pettiford Orchestra a short-lived but noble enterprise. As a result, it's wonderful that we now have additional live material of this gorgeous band. The sound quality of the release is terrific, and the material is soulful and muscular. We have Bob Sunenblick at Uptown to thank. Oscar Pettiford died in 1960.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Oscar Pettiford: New York City 1955-1958 (Uptown), a two-CD set, here.
It comes with a 40-page booklet with liner notes by Noal Cohen.
JazzWax clips: Here's Betty Glamann featured on Seventh Heaven in May 1957 from the new relase. The song is a reworking of Dizzy Gillespie's Tour de Force, written for his 1955 Verve album of the same name, with trumpeters Harry Edison and Roy Eldridge...
This week, I had the honor of interviewing film actress Charlotte Rampling for The Wall Street Journal (go here). The Swinging London icon was lovely and a pure delight. Many of you may remember her in Georgy Girl (1966), The Night Porter (1974), Farewell My Lovely (1975) and Stardust Memories (1980). Charlotte talked about growing up in the U.K. and France, and the haunting memory of her sister Sarah. [Photo above courtesy of Charlotte Rampling]
Here's Charlotte as Meredith in a pivotal scene from Georgy Girl, with Lynn Redgrave and Alan Bates...
For my monthly "Anatomy of a Song" column this week, I spoke to all four surviving members of Deep Purple for a deep drill-down on Smoke on the Water (go here). Guitarist Ritchie Blackmore explained exactly what he's playing on his Stratocaster and how he got that great sound on the song's iconic opener. Here's the 1973 hit...
My weekly "Playlist" interview this week was with W. Kamau Bell, host of the CNN docu-comedy series United Shades of America (go here). He also is the author of The Awkward Thoughts of W. Kamau Bell (Dutton). Kamau chose Living Colour's hard rock song Pride...
Congrats!! Bill Evans' Some Other Time: The Lost Session from the Black Forest—a glorious 1968 recording released last year by Resonance Records for which I wrote the liner notes—won the Jazz Journalists Association award for Best Historical Record of the Year. Congrats to Zev Feldman and the gang at Resonance. It's available here. Here's a mini-doc on the album...
Lars Gullin. Following my post this past week on Swedish baritone saxophonist Lars Gullin, I heard from many readers from Scandanavia, Europe and the States. Here's a bunch:
From Bertil Strandberg, a Swedish trombonist...
For a time, I lived in the U.S. where, among other things, I played the lead chair for three years in the Artie Shaw Orchestra after he restarted his band in 1983. I liked that you picked up the similarity of Gullin and Lee Konitz. I have always been surprised that so few writers and musicians have missed that link. It's quite obvious I think.
I played on Lars Gullin's last two records, and have listened a lot to him over the years. Once, by mistake, I played him on double speed on my tape recorder and was amazed by the fact that it sounded just like Lee Konitz playing fast. Konitz had quite a big influence on Swedish jazz, as you wrote.
A close friend of mine, Jan Allan, a trumpeter, also has been influenced by Konitz. He did several tours in Sweden with Konitz. Like Gullin, he is a true giant. They played a lot together. Jan also played piano with Gullin for a time.
I also was a close friend of trumpeter Al Porcino, who lived in Germany. He often taked about jan as ”that Swedish trumpet virtuoso”. But what really stands out with Jan´s playing is his unique sound and soulful approach. On Spotify, you can hear it on the album Jan Allan 70. You can find one of my recordings on Spotify. Roads Traveled.
I also want to tell how much I like JazzWax. I have followed it almost from the beginning and have told many of my friends about it. Greetings and appreciation.
From Guy Jones in Stockholm. Guy manages pianist Jan Lundgren's fabulous Friends of Jan Lundgren site...
Here's Finland's Haapa-Aho soloing with Dizzy Gillespie (in Finland) from 1982 (move the time bar to 3:48 for his solo):
Here's Jack Bowers...
Thanks for the wonderful column on my favorite baritone saxophonist, Sweden's legendary Lars Gullin. Not many people may know that Lars had a son, Peter, who also played the baritone sax and sounded at times more like Lars than Lars did. Peter's trio album, Tenderness, was a jazz album of the year in Sweden (it was released in 1992). Sadly, Peter died of cancer in 2003 at the young age of 44, having released, I believe, only two albums as a leader. As for the Dragon recordings you listed, I also have all 11 in the series. I also would recommend to those who simply can't get enough of Lars (I'm one of them) a few more. They include Fine Together: The Artistry of Lars Gullin (Sonnet) and a pair of 4-CD sets, Lars Gullin: Portrait of the Legendary Baritone Saxophonist, Vols. 1 (1951-55) and 2 (1956-60) on Fresh Sound. There may be more volumes in that series but I haven't seen them.
From Alan Matheson...
Thank you so much for the great article on Lars Gullin and for shining a spotlight on this great musician. I’ve done a couple of Gullin tribute concerts here in Vancouver with my octet, and the music is just as fresh now as it was then. I liked your idea that Lee Konitz might have brought some Birth of the Cool 78s with him to Sweden. Actually, Capitol Records had very good distribution in Scandinavia, and I’ve seen all kinds of postwar Capitol 78s in Helsinki, including the Miles recordings and the famous Lennie Tristano sides. Digelius Records in Helsinki bought a large collection of 78s from a Swedish collector in 2015, and it was my happy duty to sort them for the store owner, Emu Lehtinen, while I was on vacation. I have some of the Dragon albums you cited and they are, as you wrote, uniformly excellent. You may want to see the 1976 movie Sven Klang’sKvintett, which is loosely based on Gullin’s life. An excellent film.
And finally, from Joe Lang...
Fresh Sound has two Lars Gullin box sets that I believe have much of the same material (here and here). They also have those wonderful Fresh Sound booklets.
Billie Holiday. The poster above for the Nov. 19, 1956 Carnegie Hall concert was sent along by Joe Lang from Jerry Kline. Here's the setlist.
British jazz. Last week, following my post on alto saxophonist Joe Harriott, I received the following email from Phil Andrews in the U.K....
Around the same time Joe Harriott was in London in the 1960s, another great alto saxophonist was on the scene named Bruce Turner. Bruce played alto and clarinet in styles ranging from Dixieland to Mainstream, and he sometimes knocked on bop's door. I think you and JazzWax readers would enjoy his playing. Here's a YouTube clip from his John Kirby-esqe Jump Band...
More on Joe Harriott. I also received this informative email from Roger Cotterrell in London...
Many thanks for posting on Joe Harriott (and on Bogey Gaynair). You may be unaware of a Harriott biography by Alan Robertson (Joe Harriott: Fire in His Soul) now in its second edition. A truly tragic tale, but with great, belatedly recognized achievements. Also there is an autobiography of Harriott’s Jamaican bassist Coleridge Goode, co-written with me (Bass Lines: A Life in Jazz). The book fills in further detail of that period of jazz in Britain and has much to say about Harriott’s position in the U.K jazz scene and his relation to Ornette. It was good to hear the audio clips you provided.
On a personal note, your blog is invaluable in drawing attention to musicians in danger of being forgotten because they have been overshadowed or were in the wrong place at the wrong time to get proper recognition. And your attention to often underrated female jazz instrumentalists of the past is excellent. Plus, one of the most attractive features of JazzWax for me is that you offer a seriously international perspective. I much appreciated your recent coverage of Henri Renaud and Belgian jazz. I look forward to reading more about Swedish jazz at JazzWax.
Big Jay McNeely, the tenor saxophonist and one of rock 'n' roll's forefathers, turned 90 last week. He was honored last week on May 17 by the Grammy Museum in Los Angeles. I spoke with Big Jay last week (his latest album, above, is here). To read my WSJ article on Big Jay, go here. For a swell new article on him, go here. And here's Big Jay's Just Crazy (1952)...
Frank Sinatra. Two more Frank Sinatra DVD sets have just been released by Eagle Vision that cover all four Timex-sponsored TV shows hosted by the singer on ABC. The first DVD set includes The Frank Sinatra Timex Show and An Afternoon With Frank Sinatra. The first show was broadcast by ABC in October 1959, while the second aired two months later. The second DVD set features To the Ladies, broadcast in February 1960, while the other, Welcome Home Elvis, was broadcast in May 1960. You'll find these new DVD sets (and more information about who was on the shows) here and here.
Jimmy Heath. Bret Primack (above), director of the documentary Passing the Torch, featuring jazz tenor saxophonist Jimmy Heath mentoring students at the Tucson Jazz Institute in Arizona, tells me that the film is available on Amazon here.
What the heck.Here are the Trammps in 1976 singing That's Where the Happy People Go. Recordings by this muscular, driving Philadelphia group was a powerful force at discos in the late 1970s. Their big hit, Disco Inferno, was the least of their great repertoire...
Oddball album cover of the week.
Made you gasp, didn't it? One of the songs is Mame. Very "now." To bring this post full circle, here'sGeorgy Girl from the album...
Marc Myers writes regularly for The Wall Street Journal and is author of "Rock Concert: An Oral History" (Grove), "Anatomy of a Song" (Grove) and "Why Jazz Happened." Founded in 2007, JazzWax has won three Jazz Journalists Association awards
