JazzWax

Complete 'Audition at RCA'

A few years ago, I stumbled across a 15-minute black-and-white film called Audition at RCA directed in 1964 by D.A. "Penny" Pennebaker. Also known as Lambert & Co., the film features jazz vocalist Dave Lambert and four young singers he assembled for an audition at RCA studios in New York with hopes of recording a bunch of singles. The group—Mary Vonnie, Sarah Boatner, David Lucas and Leslie Dorsey—was formed shortly after the disbanding of Lambert, Hendricks and Bavan in late 1963.

Over the past few years, I've featured posts on the film as I've gathered more information from different sources. A few weeks ago, I interviewed Penny (pictured) for my "House Call" column in The Wall Street Journal. While I had Penny, I asked him about the making of Audition at RCA.

Rather than post his comments as a sole entry today, I've decided to unite all of the information from earlier posts into a single oral history so it will be a one-stop read. Interestingly, Penny filmed Audition at RCA just before embarking on Dont Look Back, his Bob Dylan documentary in 1965.

First, let's begin by looking at Audition at RCA so readers new to my long-term obsession are up to speed...

Here's the story behind the film, featuring my interviews with director D.A. Pennebaker, producer George Avakian, singer Mary Vonnie and Dave Lamber's daughter, Dee Lambert...

D.A. Pennebaker: In 1964, I already knew Dave Lambert and George Avakian. I had been a fan of Dave's recordings for years, ever since I arrived in New York from Chicago in the 1940s. And I knew George because I had and still have a substantial collection of 78s that he knew about.

In 1959 fellow filmmaker Ricky Leacock and I joined Drew Associates, a journalistic film production company started by Robert Drew while he was at Life magazine. Ricky and I left Drew Associates in 1963, and a few months later we formed Leacock-Pennebaker Inc. We decided to build a film production studio at 56 West 45th street in the diamond district.

Jewelers had been in the space but were robbed, so they decided to move out. After we got the 9th floor space, it was just a empty floor. As with any place you move into, you think you’ll be there forever so we had big plans.

While we worked on the rooms, Bob Van Dyke, our audio genius, introduced me to Dave (above). I told Dave what we were doing and Dave said he was a carpenter and would happy to help us finish it. Dave turned out to be first-rate. We built little editing rooms and a place for a mixing studio. Another friend, Mario, who also did carpentry, helped, too. We finished the place in about a month.

At some point in ‘64, Dave told me he had assembled a new vocal group and that they were going down to RCA to see about a record deal. I know Dave was keen on recording his material as a series of 45s because singles would make him more immediate money.

He said his group, Lambert & Co., was going to record a demo of the songs they had rehearsed to see what RCA thought. I told Dave I’d go down and film them. He liked the idea.

George Avakian (above): From the film, it looks as if I had asked Dave to meet me outside the studio and that I was championing the session. In truth, I found out about the session only an hour or so before and had agreed to tag along in case I could be of help.

Pennebaker: What intrigued me about the film project was this combination of the “wild rabbits” and the “hutch rabbits.” The hutch rabbits were the studio musicians who lived in “cages,” got fed every day and were told when they’d be playing. They had steady work and well cared for. The wild rabbits, by contrast, were the ones who came in with new ideas for a record. They faced more risk and higher stakes. I thought it would be interesting to film the two groups of "rabbits" working together.

Avakian: From the film, it looks like RCA Studios at 155 East 24th St., between Lexington and Third avenues. The guy in front of the dials is Ernie Oelrich [pictured above], a superb engineer. The musicians were terrific. George Duvivier was an absolute rock in the studio—he knew exactly what to do the first time, perfectly. The same was true of pianist Moe Wechsler and drummer Gary Chester. They understood Dave's music right away.

Pennebaker: There were three of us operating cameras that day—me, Nicholas Proferes and Jim Desmond. Several years earlier, Albert Maysles and I had created a compact 16mm camera that could be mounted on your shoulder. The portable camera eliminated the need for a bulky tripod and made the film more immediate, fluid and journalistic.

Nick was in the control room with his camera and Jim and I were in the studio shooting Dave and his singers. There was no real direction from me, which is also how I did Monterey Pop in 1967. Everyone was a free spirit to go with his gut. Then we edited the results later.

We never told anyone there to do anything for the camera nor did we say a word to them. Sarah took off her shoes on her own, and in one scene they moved around in a circle without coaching so Dave could see the musicians or so he could be front and center. [Pictured above: Sarah Boatner and David Lucas]

Avakian: The guy on the left in the picture above is Steve Sholes, the director of RCA's pop music department. The guy I'm talking to without a jacket is Ben Rosner, an RCA promotion man. He's probably the one who got Dave the audition, and Steve probably set up the session.

Pennebaker: As I was filming, I found myself most interested in Sarah, the African-American singer. There was something about her that was intriguing. My camera tended to be on Sarah. Desmond’s camera wound up on Mary Vonnie.

Mary Vonnie (above): Back in 1964, I had just graduated from high school in New York when a friend who knew Dave told me Dave was looking for singers to start a vocalese quintet. My friend thought of me because he had heard me fooling around singing Annie Ross's solos in school.

I was very familiar with Lambert, Hendricks and Ross. I said I'd love to do it, so my friend arranged a meeting. I auditioned at Dave's apartment, where I was hired and met the other singers. Dave didn't say much when we rehearsed. He taught us to sing like an instrument. I was a trumpet. He was a sax. He taught us syncopation and how to sing just before or just after the beat.

We did some gigs in and out of town to get started. Some of them were at clubs in upstate New York, near Niagara Falls. I remember we went out in a boat to see the falls.

Then came the audition at RCA. As we all drove over that day, Dave was cheerful as usual and not noticeably anxious. We recorded seven songs—Individualist Waltz, Think of Me, Leaving, Old Folks, Comfy Cozy Blow the Man Down and Comfy Cozy. All except Old Folks were written by Dave.

Standing around the microphone, each of us sang our parts and kept it tight with the other singers. It's kind of an inside-outside focus of attention. You have to be very intent on precision but at the same time blending with the others while riding the music.

I don't know what happened with the audition and why we didn’t get a chance to make a record. Dave never explained the outcome. I guess I assumed we'd just do another demo, but we never did. I do know that the group didn't have any official breakup. I think we were on hold for a while. I'm sure Dave would have followed up with other record companies if he could, but he might have been sick or out of commission at some point. I know he really wanted to do an album featuring his own compositions.

Avakian: I'm not sure why the audition didn't result in an album. I think the reason was that Dave didn’t have enough new original material for a full 12-inch LP. At any rate, the decision to do the album would have been Steve's. I was in charge of the overall department at RCA, but Steve was in charge of the pop division. I wouldn't have overruled him or stood in the way of what he thought was best.

Pennebaker: I have no idea why it didn’t happen. They may have disagreed over whether it should be a series of singles or an album. Or perhaps RCA didn’t see the commercial value. Either way, it was sad.

Vonnie (above with Lambert): Dave was such a pleasure to work with, always funny and laid back and amazingly gifted. He was an inspiration to all of us, not only for his outstanding musicianship but the way he was able to make magic happen while teaching us his songs. It seemed like the sound he wanted was effortlessly transmitted direct from his head into our voices. To this day I remember the songs and I sing them or parts of them from time to time.

Pennbaker: Dave was killed in October '66 helping a guy change a flat on a Connecticut highway. It was terrible news. After Dave died, Art D'Lugoff, who owned New York’s Village Gate nightclub, held a benefit there. I couldn’t go. Someone knew we had shot the film and asked if they could show it. But we never edited the film after Dave was turned down by RCA.

Nick and I edited all the film and got it to the lab for a print the next morning. After Art showed the film, a guy came to me, a reporter from Germany, and said he’d seen the film and liked it and wanted to take it back to Europe. So we gave him a print.

Vonnie: The last time I saw Audition at RCA was at a memorial for Dave in 1966 at the Village Gate. I will never forget the great time we had together.

Pennebaker: At the end of the film, we saw them off. They all went home and we went home. The people in the studio, the "hutch rabbits," stayed in the studio.

Vonnie: In the years that followed, I was in a theater company in Los Angeles called The Colony that staged performances at the Studio Theatre Playhouse. Then I was in a completely different field, working with people to enhance their lives. Today, when I listen to music, I like the Klazz Brothers, and I love Latin and salsa, which I learned to dance to at the Palladium in New York.

Dee Lambert: Though I lost my dad’s manuscripts for the original songs you hear in the film in a fire in 1979, I did have transcriptions made from the originals and filed copyrights for them. I have lead sheets of the songs as arranged as well as take-downs done by a Los Angeles service (from the soundtrack of the film).

Pennebaker: Our cameras loved Dave's group because they so obviously loved what they were doing. Each of the singers was so different. Sarah and Mary loved Dave, and each of the singers had their own spirit. They were the wild rabbits and they didn’t give a shit about anything.

JazzWax flicks: If you want to buy a DVD of Audition at RCA (aka Lambert & Co.), go to D.A. Pennebaker's site here.

JazzWax note: Mary Vonnie and David Lucas are still with us. Dave Lambert died in 1966. Leslie Dorsey became a cab driver in Boston and was killed in a robbery in 1988 (go here). I can't find much information on Sarah Boatner.

JazzWax clips: Here are five of the audio clips recorded that day, including Old Folks which was cut from the final film...

Here's Individualist Waltz...

Here's Think of Me...

Here's Leaving...

Here's Old Folks...

Here's Comfy Cozy...

Willie, Tina and Joe

In The Wall Street Journal this week, I interviewed baseball legend Willie McCovey, the former first baseman and San Francisco Giants slugger, for my "House Call" column in the Mansion section (go here). Willie talked about growing up in the segregated South, the slight he saw his father endure and how Willie wound up playing major league baseball.

Also in the WSJ, I interviewed former Manhattan prosecutor and novelist Linda Fairstein on her favorite song, James Taylor's Fire and Rain, for my "Playlist" column in the Review section and how the song helped her through the terrible loss of a close friend (go here).

And finally, in case you missed it, I interviewed Steely Dan's Donald Fagen on his newly formed road band. A couple of weeks ago, Donald invited me up to Woodstock, N.Y., to hear him rehearse the Nightflyers, a band mostly made up of musicians in their 20s (go here). A dream come true.

Tina and Fathead. Jim Eigo of Jazz Promo Services sent along this video clip of tenor saxophonists Tina Brooks and David "Fathead" Newman battling in the Ray Charles Orchestra....

Jessica Williams. Last week, I mentioned that pianist Jessica Williams was ill and in need of financial help (go here). Duff Bruce passed along a link to Jessica on Marian McPartland's radio show Piano Jazz in 1992 (go here) 

The Voice meets Shorty. Photo above of Frank Sinatra and Shorty Rogers courtesy of Shorty's son, Marshall Rogers, from his Facebook page. Frank and Shorty were on the film set of Man with the Golden Arm (1955).

 

Bud and Shorty. Photo above of Bud Shank and Shorty Rogers in a Hollywood studio to record their album for Nocturne Records in 1954, courtesy of Von Babasin (son of legendary bassist Harry Babasin).

 

Muse Records radio. In tribute to the late Joe Fields, "Symphony Sid" Gribetz will present a five-hour look at Muse Records on Sunday, July 30, from 2 to 7 p.m. (EDT). As Sid writes: "Muse Records was Joe’s biggest legacy, the record company that he ran from the early 1970's until 1996. As an independent label, Muse presented a wide array of uncompromising productions, delivering a snapshot of the jazz scene as it endured, and survived, through various iterations beyond the commercial ravages of the rock era. Muse championed younger artists like Woody Shaw, and stalwarts ranging from Sonny Stitt and Cedar Walton, to Pat Martino, Charles Earland and Houston Person, as well as vocalists such as Mark Murphy and Etta Jones.  Muse also recorded contemporary and less famous artists, and left behind an awesome catalog."

 

You can listen to Sid's show on Muse and Joe on your computer or phone from anywhere in the world by going here.

 

Fred Seibert on Joe Fields. Fred Seibert, the founder and CEO of Frederator Networks and Frederator Studios, recently penned a lovely essay on Joe Fields and what Joe taught him about producing albums (go here). Fred is a dear friend and the genius behind the MTV logo. Read my interview with Fred on the logo's creation in 2011 here.

To read my two-part interview with Sammy in 2010, go here.

SWR Big Band Plays Sammy Nestico. Germany's SWR Big Band is out with a new album—A Cool Breeze—featuring the wham-bang arrangements of Sammy Nestico. You'll find A Cool Breeze here.

You'll find my two-part JazzWax interview with Sammy Nestico here (a link to the second part is above the red date at the top in Part 1)

What the heck. Nosing around YouTube the other day, I came across this clip of Walter Wanderley's Summer Samba (So Nice) from 1966. According to the clip, it's being fed through a board that cleans up the sound? I have no idea what this technology or process is all about (Tom Fine?), only that Summer Samba sounds pretty cool cranked up...

Oddball album cover of the week.

Wish I could have been in on the meeting that green-lighted this album. Pitch in the '50s probably went something like this: "Boss, I have a great idea. Are you ready? I mean you're really going to love it. Totally original, never been done. OK, we create an entire album of music—are you ready?—that's just for listening. That's it. Just listening! Great, right? We checked and it's never been done. We own the concept! Crazy, right? They put it on the album and they listen!"

Videos: Basie in the '30s & '40s

No American big band had a bigger influence on swing and jazz than Count Basie's. Today, when we think of Basie, we most often associate him with his post-1952 "New Testament" band. But between 1937 and throughout the 1940s, Basie's band was electrifying for its sheer power, foot-tapping arrangements, infectious dance beats and swinging soloists. Here are a bunch of Basie videos from the period:

Here's Count Basie in May 1938 on New York's Randall's Island for the Carnival of Swing concert...

Here's Swingin' the Blues in 1941...

Here's Basie's Boogie from the same short...

Here's Take Me Back, Baby with singer Jimmy Rushing in 1941..

And here's One O'Clock Jump from the film Reveille with Beverly (1943)...

Donald Fagen & the Nightflyers

Donald Fagen loves jazz. Since 1972, his songs co-written with Steely Dan co-founder Walter Becker have been laced with jazz instrumentals and chord voicings. The same goes for Donald's four solo albums. Jazz greats such as Wayne Shorter, Phil Woods and Pete Christlieb, to name just a few, have been featured on Steely Dan and Donald's solo recordings. And when he's at home with down time, Donald tells me he's often at the piano doing Red Garland imitations. "Have you heard Red's Soul Junction?" he asked me recently "Coltrane is so great it's like he was let out of a cage." Big time.

Earlier this month, Donald invited me up to Woodstock, N.Y., to hear him rehearse his new summer backup band. Starting Aug. 3, Donald and the Nightflyers will begin a two-month tour of the U.S. and Japan. Walter wanted a light summer, but Donald still wanted to tour. Apparently there's little profit to be made now by artists recording albums.

So I rented a car, grabbed Donald's solo CDs for the ride, and drove two hours north of New York City to the Catskill Mountains. Music writers rarely get this type of access to Donald, and the experience was electrifying, to say the least. The results of my trip and interview are in today's Wall Street Journal (go here).

When I arrived at the Levon Helm Studios in the woods of Woodstock, there were just a few cars parked in the gravel driveway. Once inside, I could see Donald and the five Nightflyers out on the back porch through the glass door. Donald stuck his head in. "Marc? Come on out."

On the spacious back porch, the band was taking a break from a day-long rehearsal. Four of the five guys are in their 20s—guitarist Connor Kennedy, organist Will Bryant, bassist Brandon Morrison and drummer Lee Falco. Only Zach Djanikian, the newly added saxophonist, guitarist and harmony singer, is 32. Introductions were made, and five minutes after some small talk, the Nightflyers went back inside to their instruments. [Photo of Connor Kennedy, above, courtesy of Suze72]

Donald lingered outside for a few minutes to chat jazz—Sonny Rollins, Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk. Dressed in a gray-blue Henley T-shirt, dark jeans and gray sneakers, Donald was without his signature pair of dark stage sunglasses.

Inside, Donald invited me to sit on a metal folding chair about 20 feet from the band. He sat behind a Yamaha electric keyboard, and for the next two hours, the band rehearsed 10 songs: Four of them (Miss Marlene, Green Flower Street, Countermoon and New Frontier) were from Mr. Fagen’s solo albums. The band also dipped into the Steely Dan songbook (Green Earrings, Bad Sneakers, Home at Last and Dirty Work), and they covered the Rolling Stones’ Beast of Burden and the Beatles’ I’ll Cry Instead.

It was mind-blowing, as you can imagine. First, the Nightflyers (named after Donald's first solo album, The Nightfly, in 1982) are young, polite long-haired monsters. They know Donald's music inside and out and they bring enormous energy, power and freshness to the material. There are no preconceptions of the music or college nostalgia. These guys were born in the 1990s.

Second, Donald is one of the most important singer-songwriters in the post Lennon-McCartney era, at least if you have jazz-soul ears. And third, the music doesn't get any more intimate than listening to Donald and five talented musicians at work on epic songs. Best of all, we were the only ones in the space.

Here are a few things Donald said that didn't make it into my WSJ piece...

Q. At home, do you ever sit at the piano and play in the style of Red Garland?
A. Yeah, I amuse myself doing Red Garland imitations, though I can’t quite do all the things he did on the keyboard. He had an amazing sense of time and space, of course, and he could break into a block-chord style that was similar to Milt Buckner, who first started doing that.

Q. What's the difference between your solo songs and your Steely Dan work?
A. My songs are more personal and autobiographical. Steely Dan’s songs are more journalistic or satire in a more blatant sort of way.

Q. Most audiences sing along in unison with you in concert, especially on My Old School and Show Biz Kids. Do you mind?
A. Yeah, actually that’s not my favorite thing when they sing along. I mean I want them to enjoy the show however they can, but there’s something faintly disturbing about the whole audience singing along with you. It has this fascist tinge (laughs).

Q. You really enjoy playing and singing your songs. What are you enjoying most?
A. When I’m playing, it’s space in which I can be free. The truth is I don’t really like singing that much. I think I’m not really a natural performer as a signer. I guess being a jazz fan, my idea of a great singer is someone like Billy Eckstine. Some guy with amazing pipes and tone. I don’t know if I fully accept myself as a, quote, singer. I have to work really hard to sing. I’ve had friends like Phoebe Snow and Mike McDonald. Singing seems to come so naturally to them. For me, I feel like I have to put a lot of energy into singing to sell it.

Q. Watching you from behind for two hours, I noticed you like to let your left arm spring up and come down on the keyboard as if it’s made of marshmallow.
A. It’s funny, that’s true. I get that rubbery feeling when I’m playing. But I’m not thinking about it. It’s almost supernatural. I wonder if other players have that feeling. Thelonious Monk sounds rubbery to me. He can play in between the notes. John Bunch had that feeling. It’s just pure intuition. Since I wasn’t musically trained as a child, I had to make it up myself. When you do that, it’s more an expression of your personality. Blues players like Jay McShann give you that feeling. Also Basie and Bud Powell, even though Bud had impeccable technique at the top of his game. Monk plays with his elbows sticking out at right angles to his body. It’s like any country blues player physically expressing the music.

Q. What are you most proud of about your music for Steely Dan?
A. Aside from the actual songs and material, I’m proud that Walter and I introduced a lot of people to jazz. We were a kind of a bridge for our fans eventually becoming jazz fans. Since the bebop era, jazz hasn’t been exactly the most popular American music, which is unfair really. I think by having so much jazz in what we've done, by hiring guys like saxophonists Phil Woods and Wayne Shorter, our fans wanted to hear more of those guys and they bought their albums. Walter and I owe so much to all those jazz players.

JazzWax tracks: Donald's four solo albums are The Nightfly (1982), Kamakiriad (1993), Morph the Cat (2006) and Sunken Condos (2012). 

JazzWax clips: Here's Donald and Walter in Nashville in 1993 performing Donald's I.G.Y....

Here's Green Flower Street...

Here's Deacon Blues several years ago...

And here's My Old School in 1973...

Bobby Hutcherson: The Kicker

It's unclear why Bobby Hutcherson's The Kicker wasn't released by Blue Note until 1999, despite being recorded in 1963. As far as I can tell, the album is flawless. It swings, it's engaging, the musicians on the session were spectacular and there don't appear to be any instrumental errors or microphone snafus.

The reason might have had something to do with the title track by tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson. Blue Note producer Alfred Lion seems to have wanted Henderson's song to sound just right given its marketplace potential. I say this because Grant Green recorded The Kicker with Joe Henderson on his Solid album months later in June 1964, an album Lion also held back (the album was shelved and wouldn't be released until 1979). Then Horace Silver recorded the song with Henderson on Song for My Father in October 1964, an album that was issued and became a sizable hit. Interestingly, Henderson wouldn't record his own song as a leader until 1967, on an album of the same name for Milestone Records.

Or perhaps Hutcherson's The Kicker was shelved due to consistency issues. Green appeared on only three tracks (was he late to the session?). This may have caused the album to sound instrumentally lopsided to Lion, at which point he may have decided to hold it. Or perhaps his decision was based on both reasons. Who knows.

What is clear is that Hutcherson's The Kicker is an exceptional album. It features Joe Henderson (ts), Bobby Hutcherson (vib), Duke Pearson (p), Grant Green (g), Bob Cranshaw (b) and Al Harewood (d). The album opens with the standard If Ever I Would Leave You, from Lerner and Loewe's Camelot, a beautiful rendition with a sterling solo by Henderson. It's followed by Joe Chambers's introspective Mirrors; Hutcherson's For Duke P, a tribute to his pianist; Henderson's The Kicker and Step Lightly (both major jazz works, with the latter being a personal favorite), and Pearson's Bedouin.

There's something so satisfying and uplifting about Hutcherson and Henderson together. Hutcherson's vibes are like sprays of exclamation points, while Henderson's saxophone has the feel of watercolor paint on a slick surface. His tone moves around in such a seamless, fluid way. Uniting these two textures was Pearson's joyous piano and the rock-solid time of Cranshaw and Harewood. Green's guitar adds the fuse.

Hats off to Mosaic's Michael Cuscuna for uncovering and liberating this album at the end of the 1990s when he was producing CD reissues for Blue Note. It's hard to understand why this one sat on a shelf for so long. [Image above of Michael Cuscuna from YouTube]

Bobby Hutcherson died in 2016; Joe Henderson died in 2001, Duke Pearson died in 1980, Grant Green died in 1979, Bob Cranshaw died in 2016 and Al Harewood died in 2014.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Bobby Hutcherson's The Kicker here.

You can also find it at Spotify.

JazzWax clip: Here's Step Lively...

And here's For Duke P....

Ethel Ennis Sings for Losers

When the 10-inch pop album expanded to 12 inches in the mid-1950s, the glory days of the vocalist began and lasted until roughly 1965. There were the A-list recording artists such as Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Peggy Lee, Billie Holiday, Margaret Whiting, Sarah Vaughan, Kay Starr, Dinah Washington, June Christy and many others who had started their careers during the big band era. But there also were dozens of other lesser known singers who had come up through nightclubs and suddenly found themselves with recording opportunities as labels scrambled to fill annual album quotas.

Among these special modern singers was Ethel Ennis, who had one of the most natural, intimate voices in the Sarah Vaughan tradition. Born in Baltimore in 1932, Ms. Ennis took piano lessons as a child thanks to the money her mother scraped together playing piano and organ for local Pentecostal churches. As Geoffrey Himes wrote in the Washington Post in 1979: "[Ennis's mother] wouldn't allow jazz or blues records in the house. 'Late at night, though,' Ennis reveals, 'you could hear the blues coming up through the floor. The woman downstairs had all those good records.' "

Ms. Ennis recorded two albums for Capitol in the late 1950s before touring extensively with Benny Goodman. Then in the early 1960s she recorded four albums for RCA before taking another hiatus, returning to recording in the early 1970s and beyond. Among my favorite albums, however, is her first—Sings Lullabies for Losers. The album was recorded for the Jubilee label in late 1955 and featured accompaniment by Hank Jones (p), Eddie Briggs (g), Abie Baker (b) and Kenny Clarke (d).

Ms. Ennis's voice on this recording (and all of her others) was absolutely beautiful and highly inventive, effortlessly circling notes and rising up or sliding down to the right ones with glossy fluidity. She was a pop singer in the best sense of the word—a hip stylist with perfect intonation and elegant phrasing but always in love with the melody. What made Ms. Ennis singular, especially on Sings Lullabies for Losers, are the numerous little-known songs chosen and how archly she nails them despite their melodic and lyric difficulty. Songs such as Dreamer Dreamer, Blues Prelude, Off Shore, Casually, Lullaby for Losers and Bon Voyage are glorious ballads that you never hear today.

Ms. Ennis's approach on standards such as Love for Sale, Say It Ain't So Joe, You Better Go Now and I've Go You Under My Skin are equally deft and approached differently than you're used to hearing them. That's what I love most about Ms. Ennis's voice. It never goes where you expect it to, but it gets there eventually and the tiny detours are what makes her so interesting. And speaking of bliss, this quartet led by Hank Jones frames Ms. Ennis perfectly.

Best of all, Ms. Ennis is still with us. With any luck, she'll read this post and send along an email. Fingers crossed.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Ethel Ennis Sings Lullabies for Losers on a double-CD set from Fresh Sound here and here.

You'll also find it at Spotify.

JazzWax clips: Here's Casually...

Casually

And here's I've Go You Under My Skin...

 I've Got You Under My Skin

A special thanks to Gary Dailey and Doug Paterson.

Arch Martin: New Jazz From K.C.

In 1959, trombonist Arch Martin recorded a superb album for Zephyr Records, a Hollywood label that specialized in jazz and was distributed by GNP. The album was New Jazz From Kansas City, which featured Arch Martin (tb), Dick Busey (ts), Jay Shore (p), Dave Rizer (b) and John "Terry" Tirabasso (d). Though the album was recorded in Kansas City, the music's sound is West Coast in style.

Martin is virtually unknown to most jazz fans today, primarily because he spent most of his career in Kansas City as an educator and a music store manager. Born in Independence, Mo., in 1931, Martin began playing in Kansas City in the early 1950s and toured with various regional bands. In 1956, he toured Europe with Claude Thornhill and then Woody Herman in 1957 and '58. From 1959 to 1998 Martin was a sales manager at Cole Music in Raytown, Mo., and then manager of Jenkins Music in Kansas City, Mo.

From 1973 to 1980, Martin was a judge for Jazz Band Festivals and taught jazz band at Summer Music Camps. He also appeared for several years with Clark Terry at the annual Kansas City Jazz Festival. Those scraps are as much as I could find online. 

Listening to New Jazz From Kansas City, I find it astonishing Martin wasn't more thoroughly recorded. His tone is fantastic and sense of swing and improvisation impeccable. Though the music is contrapuntal and upbeat, Kansas City's swing tradition is embedded in the music, particularly through the pianist.

Busey, the tenor saxophonist, is another Kansas City musician who is barely known. His tone and attack remind me of the West Coast's Jack Montrose. Shore was an interesting pianist whose left hand loved the bottom-most notes on the keyboard while his right hand ran bop lines on top. This is his only known jazz album. The same goes for Rizer, the bassist.

As for drummer John "Terry" Tirabasso, he relocated to Los Angeles and recorded with Warne Marsh, Dave Koonse and Bill Perkins and recorded a number of leadership albums.

The tracks on New Jazz From Kansas City are a mix of originals (Six A.M. Blues by Dick Busey, Eyeball by Bob Ousley, Desperation by Arch Martin, Paul's Tune by Paul Moer, Birdfeathers by Dick Busey and Muddy Shoes by Arch Martin) and standards (I Never Knew, Black and Blue, 'Deed I Do and Love Your Magic Spell Is Everywhere ).

It's inconceivable to me how a group this potent could have recorded only one superb album and why they fell by the wayside. One can only wonder what might have happened if their sole recording had been issued by RCA instead.

Arch Martin died in 2009 at age 78.

JazzWax tracks: I can't find Arch Martin's New Jazz From Kansas City anywhere online except as an LP at eBay. Hopefully Fresh Sound will consider it along with Martin's Jazz in Good Taste.

I did see a download of New Jazz From Kansas City here.

JazzWax clips: How good is this album? Here's I Never Knew...

I Never Knew

Here's Dick Busey's Birdfeathers...

Birdfeathers

A special thanks to Doug Paterson.

Bill, Benny and Jimmy

In The Wall Street Journal this week, my monthly "Anatomy of a Song" column looked at Alice Cooper's Eighteen, a potent hard-rock single in 1970 about teenage uncertainty and self-doubt (go here). The song became the band's first hit just as the group was about to go under. What changed? A gifted young producer who was sent to blow them off wound up working with them instead on their recordings. Vast support by fans in the Midwest also helped. Of course, Alice Cooper would go on to pioneer tongue-in-cheek theatrical shock rock. One could also say the band set the stage for punk and laid track for grunge. I interviewed Alice, guitarist Michael Bruce, bassist Dennis Dunaway, manager Shep Gordon and producer Bob Ezrin. Here's Alice Cooper performing Eighteen in 1990...

Also in the WSJ, I interviewed restaurateur Dan Barber for my "House Call" column in the Mansion section (go here). The celebrity chef and owner of Manhattan's Blue Hill and Blue Hill at Stone Barns in Pocantico Hills, N.Y., talks about growing up without knowing his mother, why he was aimless for many years after college, the importance of his grandmother's farm atop a hill in the Berkshires, the big turning point in his career, and the day that David Rockefeller ate at his restaurant and the offer he made Dan. [Photo above courtesy of Dan Barber]

And finally, I interviewed Mario Livio for my "Playlist" column in the Review section (go here). The Israeli astrophysicist talked about why the Platters' Only You (and You Alone) was so important to him in Tel Aviv in the early 1960s and what happens at his house every time he plays the song today. [Photo above courtesy of Mario Livio]

Here's Tony Williams and the Platters from Rock Around the Clock (1956)...

Jimmy and Benny at 92Y. Last Wednesday's concert at New York's 92Y, featuring Jimmy Heath and Benny Golson, was perhaps the finest jazz performance I've seen since seeing Duke Ellington in the early 1970s. The concert, directed by pianist Bill Charlap, featured Jimmy and Benny backed by Bill, trumpeter Jeremy Pelt, bassist David Wong and drummer Kenny Washington. Bill wisely had Jimmy and Benny together for a couple of standards and then featured them individually playing their original compositions. Jimmy's sets (one before intermission and one after) included C.T.A. and Gingerbread Boy while Benny's sets featured Whisper Not, I Remember Clifford and Along Came Betty among others. Both tenor saxophonists were glorious. Bill's impeccable piano knocked out everyone in the audience and on stage, at points luring Benny and Jimmy to stand next to him to watch him play, often with admiration and disbelief. Jeremy, David and Kenny were equally spectacular. The audience roared. The Jazz in July festival continues next week. [Photo above, clockwise from left, Bill Charlap, Kenny Washington, Jeremy Pelt, Jimmy Heath and Benny Golson (not shown, David Wong)]

Dave Pell. A couple of weeks ago, Jordi Pujol of Fresh Sound released a smashing two-CD set—The Dave Pell Octet: The Complete Trend and Kapp Recordings 1953-1956. This two-CD set includes three Dave Pell Octet songbook albums: Plays Irving Berlin, Plays Rodgers & Hart and Plays Burke & Van Heusen. If you don't have these already or your copies are sub-par, this set sounds great. In addition to Dave in all his eight-part glory, you get to hear the extraordianry Don Fagerquist on trumpet throughout all of the recordings. Terrific liner notes by Jordi, who knew Dave well and considered him a second father. Go here or here.

Jessica Williams. Doug Paterson alerted me that pianist Jessica Williams is ailing and needs financial help. You can be of assistance by making a donation or buying her recordings here.

Here's an interview-performance video with the pianist...

Jackie and Roy. Chris Laughbon reminded me last week that Jackie and Roy's hip rendition of Mountain Greenery had a second life years later on TV's Dick Van Dyke Show. Here's Jackie and Roy singing the standard in 1955...

And here's Mary Tyler Moore and Dick Van Dyke on the Dick Van Dyke Show singing the same song in the style of Jackie and Roy, who went unaccredited, in 1962...

Georgia Mancio. Last week, singer Georgia Mancio reached out to let me know that her Songbook album featuring her lyrics set to pianist Alan Broadbent's magnificent music (reviewed here) is back on sale at CDBaby.com here.

What the heck. Here's Lou Rawls singing his massive 1976 hit You'll Never Find Another Love Like Mine on Midnight Special in 1977...

Oddball album cover of the week.

Albert Babbitt sent this one along. Yes, Liberace, the rococo pianist, had an equally treacly older musical brother. This 1957 album from Imperial included "songs" such as Teenage Holiday, 3 X 7 = 21 and Lost Dreams. Yes, teens really went for George. After all, what 17-year old could keep his or her feet from moving when George's fiddle lit up. Unclear why George is twice their size on the cover and appears as an apparition, like a high school music teacher reminding them to practice.

Wait a minute. Maybe the cover was referring to British teens in the late 1950s...

Chet Baker: La Voce

My favorite tracks of Chet Baker singing aren't in English. They're in Italian, and they were recorded in Rome in 1962 with the Ennio Morricone Orchestra.

Yes, that Ennio Morricone (above), the composer of music for The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, The Untouchables and more than 400 movies since 1959. But before Morricone expanded into metallic guitars, mournful harmonicas, high-plains whistlers and tonal textures, he was a cinematic traditionalist, writing rich, romantic scores that made full use of string sections, brass and the piano. The meeting of Ennio and Chet in 1962 was a sublime encounter and couldn't have come at a better time for both artists.

Today, many Chet Baker fans aren't even aware these four Italian sides exist. For one, the four RCA songs weren't released in the U.S. until the early 2000s. For another, when most listeners reach for the singing Baker, they usually grab his work with pianist Russ Freeman. For me, these four Italian tracks are in the same league.

A little background. In August 1960, Baker, already addicted to heroin, was arrested in Lucca, Italy, for forging Palfium prescriptions and for smuggling huge quantities of Jetrium into Italy from Germany. Both drugs were and are pain killers. Baker was convicted of drug smuggling and forgery, and sentenced to a year, seven months and 10 days in a Lucca prison.

When Baker was released early in December 1961, RCA Italiana put him together with Ennio Morricone. In 1962, they recorded four of Chet's own composition that he wrote during his jail term. These tracks then were released in Italy on two extended play, 7-inch, 45 rpm records. RCA's goal was to capitalize on Baker's American movie-star looks and his new bad-boy, ribelle senza una causa reputation.

James Gavin, in his 2002 book, Deep in a Dream: The Long Night of Chet Baker, touches on this unique recording date:

"[Chet] didn't get everything he wanted. By now, Dino De Laurentiis had lost interest in making a film out of Baker's life. Despite the money he had earned from the producer, the trumpeter was furious and went on to call the incident, 'The Great Movie Hoax.' But he cashed in on his prison compositions when RCA Italiana paid him ten thousand dollars for a one-year record contract. The label hoped to capitalize on his notoriety by making him a pop star; to that end, he was asked to cut four vocal sides in Italian with an orchestra conducted by Ennio Morricone, the famed composer [who would go on to record numerous] 'spaghetti western' soundtracks. The songs came from Baker's red-leather songbook, with words added by Pino Maffei, founder of Musica Jazz magazine.

Swaddled in a blanket of strings and voices, Baker crooned of the sweetness of love and of endless nights without his beloved. He sounded more childlike than ever, his soft choirboy's high notes seeming to float from the purest heart."

Given Morricone's renown in Italy at the time and Baker's tragic persona, you would think these sessions were originally recorded for a movie soundtrack. So I checked to see what films  Morricone scored in 1962. Five films popped up—La Cuccagna, Diciottenni Al Sole, I Motorizzati, Before the Revolution and La Voglia Matta. What these titles mean in English doesn't matter, because virtually all of them are a variation on the same theme popular then—young love, fate and the downside of upward mobility. Baker's recordings with Morricone could have worked for any or all of them.

Film score or no film score, these four ballads by Baker are so impossibly pretty and decadent. They're like four Italian pastries with crunch and cream. But their beauty is a collaboration of three forces—Baker's wide open trumpet playing, his tourist's Italian on the vocals and Morricone's satiny Hollywood-ola scores.

Chetty's Lullaby, which Chet wrote for his son, opens with a rich bed of French horns and trombones, inhaling and exhaling as Baker's trumpet soars over strings. Then Baker sings in Italian—in the most fragile, delicate plaintive voice. He almost sounds as if he's consulting a map while asking for directions. And Morricone's orchestration is quivering and innocent.

On the flip side of Chetty's Lullaby was So Che Ti Perdero, which opens with shimmering strings, followed by piano, guitar, trombones and more strings. There's even a vocal choir singing in Italian behind Baker.

Motivo Su Raggio Di Luna has a minor feel—again with vocal choir, strings, French horns and trombones Baker is almost talking in Italian here, sotto voce. Halfway through the tune, the pace quickens and Baker sounds a lot like Miles on his Gil Evans dates.

Il Mio Domani is my favorite of the four tracks. It opens with a gaggle of horns performing a call and response with a celeste and drum brushes on cymbals (pure Morricone!). Then Baker's trumpet wanders over the top of violins. A piano enters, brass are added, followed by the celeste, cellos and violas. A vocal choir drifts in and the song builds to a crescendo with the brass, only to fall back suddenly, exposing the celeste yet again. Half-way through, the tempo doubles as Baker sings with the Italian choir and a piano slips into the background.

While these tracks may not be his greatest jazz performances ever recorded, they are beautiful and exotic works by Baker nonetheless. If you're a Chet Baker fan, you're a romantic. And if you're a romantic, then what more could you ask for than for Baker at his seductive best singing ballads in Italian? Not to mention playing an open trumpet on top of Italian cinematic strings. I only wish Baker and Morricone had recorded an entire album.

JazzWax tracks: These four songs can be found on Chet Is Back here, where they were included as bonus tracks.

You'll also find Chet Is Back at Spotify.

JazzWax clips: Here are the four sides of two 45s...

Here's Chetty's Lullaby...

Here's So Che Ti Perderò...

Here's Motivo Su Raggio Di Luna...

And here's Il Mio Domani...

If you want a visual and audio taste of Chet Baker's romantic Italian period, go here and dig him singing Arrivederci...

It's from an Italian film called Urlatori alla Sbarra (1960), which was part of a genre known as musicarello—Italian musical comedies that included current stars singing their hits. Sort of the early 1960s equivalent of a music video.

Clearly this is the sound RCA had hoped to achieve and recreate by teaming Baker with Morricone.

Videos: Kenny Drew Jr.

A superb jazz pianist, Kenny Drew Jr. died in 2014, but his passing, like his talent and career, went largely unnoticed. Here's my obit for background. Drew Jr. was the son of the masterful bebop pianist Kenny Drew. How much attention the elder Drew gave his son is unclear. Also unclear are the health problems Drew Jr. suffered from, since little has been written about him before or after his death.

Here are three videos (two recent) that will show you what I mean:

Here's Drew Jr. playing Bill Evans' Turn Out the Stars...

Here's Drew Jr. in an orchestra setting. Notice how rarely he looks at his hands on the keyboard. Fascinating...

And here's Drew Jr. playing Duke Jordan's Flight to Jordan...