JazzWax

Joe Turner: Smashing Thirds

Big Joe Turner was a blues shouter from Kansas City, Mo., who stood at 6-foot 2, weighed 300 pounds and was fundamental to the development of rock 'n' roll. He was the first to record Shake, Rattle and Roll in 1954. The "Big" was added to distinguish him from the already famous Joe Turner, a stride pianist who was born in 1907 in Baltimore. Taught to play piano by his mother, Joe Turner took six months of lessons with an undesirable and discouraging teacher who tended to watch the clock. So Turner turned to his Aunt Katie, who, he said, played "like a man," with a powerful left hand. She taught him to develop his left hand and explained why it was so important.

Encouraged in the late 1920s to travel to New York, Turner made the three-hour train trip from Baltimore and arrived with just $1.25 in his pocket. Making his way to Harlem's Comedy Club, he was told that anyone could sit down at the club's piano and play. So he did, running through Harlem Strut and The Carolina Shout. Audience approval was immediate and so loud that the great James P. Johnson, who happened to be sitting at a table, got up, went to the piano and played both songs with a bit more verve and flash. In other words, Turner's renditions were so threatening that Johnson felt the need to re-assume his dominant status. That's the way stride was in Harlem back then. You had to fight to get to the top and fight even hard to stave off all comers.

The good news for Turner is that his performance yielded a steady job playing at the nearby Baron Wilkins Club. There, Turner eventually was discovered by Benny Carter, who hired him for his band. Turner's first recording was in 1930 with Louis Armstrong and by the late '30s he was close friends with Art Tatum. During World War II, Turner played in Sy Oliver's Army orchestra. But by the late 1950s, Turner's stride style was old hat in an era of modernists, so he moved to Paris, where he performed all over Europe.

While touring there in the late 1960s, Turner was asked to record by Germany's MPS Records. In November 1969, Turner recorded for the label in Berlin backed by bassist Hans Rettenbacher and drummer Stu Martin. MPS has just remastered and reissued the album, Smashing Thirds, and it's a joy to hear. [Photo above, from left, Stu Martin, Joe Turner and Hans Rettenbacher]

All 13 tracks are laced with a stride-piano sound that conjures up images of the 1920s and '30s. What makes Turner's stride special is his ability to leave space for the listener to enter songs. Many stride masters from the era tended to flood the ear with seamless cascades of notes. Rosetta, Willow Weep for Me and Effervescent from Smashing Thirds are particularly lovely and show off Turner's beautiful, floral technique.

Joe Turner died of a heart attack in 1990. He was 82.

JazzWax tracks: For now, you'll find Joe Turner's Smashing Thirds (MPS) as an exclusive iTunes download. The album will be available at other online retail sites, such as Amazon, in November. 

JazzWax clips: Here's Rosetta...

Rosetta

And here's Effervescent...

Effervescent

British Jazz Goes Mod, 1961

Many Americans born in the 1950s like to think of London in 1961 as a set from My Fair Lady. Lots of rosy-cheeked Julie Andrews types, coal fireplaces, afternoon tea and men rushing about in forest-green tweed. In these cinematic imaginations, teenage guys look like the brooding Beatles during their Hamburg, Germany, period, while teenage girls are bubbly and confident, and look like Helen Shapiro or Shirley Bassey.

We don't tend to think of London as having a thriving jazz scene akin to New York, Chicago or San Francisco. But in 1961, the city's Soho section was thriving with jazz clubs and coffee bars. Which brings us to another myth: that much of the jazz played in London back then was traditional Dixieland. There certainly was plenty of "trad" to go around, but a majority of the young jazz artists there were modernists influenced by the New York hard bop scene. Great London jazz musicians included Joe Harriott, Dick Morrissey, Harold McNair, Wilton Gaynair, Don Rendell, Shake Keane, Harry South, Tubby Hayes, Ronnie Scott, Alex Welsh among many others.

Most of these British jazz musicians aren't household names here today because many didn't tour in the States nor were their recordings released widely in the U.S. Even today, these musicians go unrecognized or unheard by fans outside of the U.K. But they were every bit as innovative and skilled as their American idols, as evidenced on RnB Records latest set available in the U.S.: Soho Scene '61: Jazz Goes Mod.

Last time I wrote about the Jazz Goes Mod series from the U.K.'s RnB Records was back in October 2016, when the label released Soho Scene '62 (go here). Like the last set, the new two-CD package is loaded with accomplished British jazz artists and groups who may be new to you. The set comes with a 24-page booklet of terrific notes by DJ and author Paul "Smiler" Anderson, and it's packed with glossy color and black-and-white photos.

Once again, the set's first CD features British jazz artists while the second features tracks by influential American jazz and soul-jazz artists. This group includes the Montgomery Brothers, Grant Green, King Curtis, Sal Nistico, Freddie Hubbard and Red Holt, among others. The juxtaposition is fascinating. The American jazz CD provides audio references for the uptempo, harmony-rich British jazz you hear on the first CD. A bunch of the American tracks may not even be in your collection, including Harold Corbin's Soul Sister, Red Holt's Little Liza Jane, Chris Connor's Opportunity and Jimmy Drew's Baby Lou.

Among the many high points on the British-artist CD are the Harold McNair Quartet's Harry Flicks, the Bill McGuffie Quartet's Out of Cigarettes, the Tubby Hayes Quartet's R.T.H., the Joe Harriott Quintet's Tonal, the Harry South Big Band's Southern Horizons, the Shake Keane Quintet's Fidel, the Dick Morrissey Quartet's St. Thomas and the Ronnie Scott/Jimmy Deuchar Quintet's Haunted Jazzclub.

Of course, there's no harm in imagining London populated by Cockney flower girls, London Music Hall comics and Ian Fleming (above) shopping for after shave at Floris. Just know that before Swinging London in the late 1960s, London was already a swinging place in '61 with a serious modern jazz groove.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Soho Scene '61: Jazz Goes Mod (RnB) here.

Also, remember the Harry South Songbook box I posted about in July (go here)? It's now available in the States as a four-CD set (go here).

For more on RnB's offerings, go here.

JazzWax clips: Here's the Bill McGuffie Quartet, with McGuffie on piano, playing Out of Cigarettes...

Out of Cigarettes

Here's the Harold McNair Quartet, with McNair on flute, playing Harry Flicks...

Harry Flicks

And here's arranger-trumpeter Jimmy Deuchar and his group playing Heather Mist...

Heather Mist

Sonny Stitt: Tune-Up!

Back in 1971, when I began to listen steadily to jazz, I was nuts about an album that had come out that year by Sonny Stitt and Gene Ammons called You Talk That Talk. I was a freshman in high school and had taken up the tenor saxophone, an instrument that was much cooler to tote around in its case in school hallways than to stand alone in a room and practice scales. Back then, Stitt was for me. He made the saxophone sound like a Corvette. Even worse, he made it sound easy when in fact the instrument was a bear. Though my drive to become a saxophonist waned quickly as other interests kicked in, I was still a devoted Stitt fan.

One Saturday in late 1972, I was at Sam Goody's record store on Third Ave. in Manhattan. The chain's weekly ad in the Sunday New York Times Arts & Leisure section had announced the previous Sunday that Joe Fields's Cobblestone label would be on sale that week. So my purchase was two Stitt albums on Cobblestone produced by Don Schlitten—Tune-Up! and Constellation.

When I arrived home, I put on Tune-Up! first. From the first track, I was astonished. Stitt played the title track in the high register of the tenor saxophone with a ferocity and clarity that was jaw-dropping. Backed by pianist Barry Harris, bassist Sam Jones and drummer Alan Dawson, Stitt sailed through the song flawlessly. It was a happy horn, a flying instrument that soared and swooped with sweet determination. The ballad I Can't Get Started followed and was richly soulful, with Stitt playing long, spring-loaded lines that filled every bit of space. The rest of the album was equally driven and laced with bop surprises. On the last tune, I Got Rhythm, Stitt played alto and overdubbed in places on tenor.

Constellation featured roughly the same rhythm section, with drummer Roy Brooks replacing Alan Dawson. The bop song choices were fabulous sleepers. The title track was a rarely heard song by Charlie Parker based on the chord changes to I Got Rhythm. After the standard ballad I Don't Stand a Ghost of a Chance With You, Stitt played Bud Powell's Webb City, Stitt's own By Accident, Ray Brown and Gil Fuller's Ray's Idea, Tadd Dameron's Casbah, the standard It's Magic and Topsy by Edgar Battle and Eddie Durham.

Both albums showcased Stitt at his absolute best during this bop-revival period. Many of his recordings from the early 1970s have been long overlooked. After revisiting Tune-Up! and Constellation yesterday, I found myself listening to other Stitt albums I bought during the period—Goin' Down Slow, Black Vibrations, Giants of Jazz, So Doggone Good, The Champ, Mr. Bojangles, Satan and Tornado. Listening to Stitt still makes me want to wet a reed, slip my head through the black strap and watch myself play the tenor in a mirror. Another time, another place.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Tune-Up! and Constellation on one CD issued by the 32 Jazz label in 1997 here.

JazzWax clips: Here's Tune-Up from Tune-Up!...

And here's Casbah from Constellation...

Casbah

 

Ahmad Jamal: Greasepaint Roar

When Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley's musical The Roar of the Greasepaint — the Smell of the Crowd opened on Broadway in 1965, it was a followup to their hit collaboration on Stop the World — I Want to Get Off from 1962. The earlier musical gave us two massive pop standards: Once in a Lifetime and What Kind of Fool Am I, with two lesser hits: Someone Nice Like You and Gonna Build a Mountain. A year later, three massive jazz standards emerged from Greasepaint: Who Can I Turn To, A Wonderful Day Like Today and Feeling Good, with a minor hit in The Joker. Who Can I Turn To would be covered by dozens of pop singers and jazz instrumentalists and remains vital today.

Greasepaint opened in London in August 1964 and then at Broadway's Shubert Theatre in May 1965. Two artists who devoted albums to jazz interpretations of the entire show were Ahmad Jamal and Herbie Mann. Interestingly, Jamal recorded his in February 1965 and Herbie Mann's was recorded for Atlantic in March. Both were done before the show even opened in New York.

That's because of a brilliant marketing campaign. Though the English production never caught on or made it to London's West End, American producer David Merrick saw the show in Liverpool and decided it was cost-efficient enough to bring to the States. He not only started out with a pre-Broadway tour of the U.S. with Anthony Newley in the lead role but also convinced RCA to record and release the cast soundtrack before the show reached New York. Merrick also convinced every label he could reach to record versions of the show's songs, particularly Who Can I Turn To. Tony Bennett's signature version came out in November 1964, months before the musical opened on Broadway, probably using a demo to learn the song.

Ahmad Jamal's album, The Roar of the Greasepaint—The Smell of the Crowd, was recorded for the Argo label and was produced by Esmond Edwards, with liner notes by Nat Hentoff. Jamal was joined by Jamil Nasser on bass and Chuck Lampkin on drums. The songs don't appear on the album in the same order in which they appear in the show, adding a delightful randomness to the music.

Each song is treated to Jamal's elegant keyboard approach, with the pianist leaving lots of space in his right hand. This Dream is a good example of Jamal's style applied to the show tunes. The same goes for Who Can I Turn To, which features an unusual bossa nova beat. And on A Wonderful Day Like Today, Jamal intermingles block chords, a robust left hand and runwaway lines in the right, high up on the keyboard.

There's little interaction between jazz and Broadway these days. Part of the reason for their separation, I suppose, is that Broadway musical numbers no longer carry the commercial punch and addiction they once did. In the old days, singers like Tony, Andy Williams, Nancy Wilson and Sammy Davis Jr. could record Broadway songs in advance of a musical's opening, turning them into standards and driving audiences to the theater. Today, too few musicals feature songs with catchy melodies. For example, I don't believe a single jazz artist has taken on Hamilton's score. And maybe for good reason. As successful as the show has been, I'm not sure anyone walks around trying to shake the show's songs from their head.

JazzWax tracks: Sadly, Greasepaint by Ahmad Jamal never made it into the digital format and is today unavailable except on vinyl. Herbie Mann's Greasepaint is available (here), but it isn't nearly as good.

Hopefully a label somewhere someplace will make this one available again on CD or as a digital download. It's fabulous.

JazzWax tracks: Here's This Dream...

This Dream

And here's Who Can I Turn To...

Who Can I Turn To

A special thanks to Doug Paterson and David Langner.

Sue, Jackie and Lester

In this week's Wall Street Journal, I interviewed novelist Sue Grafton (go here), who's known for book titles pegged to alphabet letters (Y Is for Yesterday is her latest). She grew up in a stressful household in Louisville, Ky. Fearful of a dark basement that was routinely flooded, imaginary bad guys coming down the stairs and two alcoholic parents (her mother also smoked, raising the risk of starting a fire). Yet Sue was inspired by her father, a writer of detective fiction who groomed her to be an author. Through it all, Sue has a fabulous sense of humor.

Also in the WSJ, I interviewed documentary filmmaker Margaret Byrne (go here) on her favorite song, 2face Idibia's African Queen and why she rarely listens to it now. Her latest documentary, Raising Bertie, will air on Monday on PBS's POV. Here's the trailer...

John Vanore. Following my post last week on one of my favorite albums of the year, John Vanore's Stolen Moments, John sent along an email:

"Thank you so much for the wonderful article. I agonized over which pieces to include in this album, wanting to create a broad stroke that would introduce and reintroduce people to Oliver Nelson's legacy. Not only do I love 3-2-1-0 and Black, Brown and Beautiful, I have, photo copies of Oliver's score and parts that he gave me in the early 1970's (along with Blues and the Abstract Truth, Self-Help, Riverside, and more). I had contacted him when I started teaching. His work became the defining music of my college students for decades. They have become keepers of the flame!

I did an arrangement of Down by the Riverside, from his Live from Los Angeles and Swiss Suite, but it was cut. I Hope in Time a Change Will Come is so strong and emotional that I chose it over Riverside.

There were so many left on the side. I recently told the band that if I'm able to get a grant, we'll do a second volume. I must also thank you for the kind words for my arranging. The guys in the band were so in love with the project, it made all the hard work a joy."

Jimmy Heath. If you're in New York next week on Aug. 28 and 29, director Bret Primack's documentary Jimmy Heath: Passing the Torch will be screened at the New York Jazz Festival. Admission: Free. Where: Harlem, at ImageNation's Raw Space, 2031 Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Blvd. When: Aug. 28 at 4:20 p.m. and Aug. 29 at 3:55 p.m. For more information: Go here.

Here's the film's trailer...

Jackie DeShannon. I came across this one last week last week wandering around on YouTube. Here's Jackie in 1965 singing a little-known and very difficult Burt Bacharach-Hal David song, A Lifetime of Loneliness....

Oliver Nelson. Bill Kirchner reminded me of this version of Oliver Nelson's Black, Brown and Beautiful on Johnny Hodges's Three Shades of Blue...

Prez and Bird radio. WKCR-FM will be hosting its annual back-to-back birthday tributes to Lester Young and Charlie Parker on August 27, 28 and 29. It's a radio event not to be missed. You can tune in from around the world on your computer or phone by going here.

What the heck. Further proof that nothing can stop the Duke of Earl...

Oddball album cover of the week.

I'm uncertain why anyone would buy an album to induce tears, but that seems to have been the marketing strategy of this one. Graphically, the cover is pretty interesting. The music was aimed at those who watched others wind up in love. What might help our watcher land a suitor is to cut back a bit on the orange foundation.

Frank Sinatra on Film: 1942-'51

Let's end the week with clips of Frank Sinatra singing in films between 1942 and 1951, when he was still idolized by women and before middle-aged men stole him away in the mid-1950s:

Here's Sinatra singing Poor You from Ship Ahoy in 1942 with the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra...

Here's Sinatra singing The Music Stopped from Higher and Higher in 1943...

Here's Sinatra, again from A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening...

Here's Sinatra and Gloria DeHaven singing Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are from Step Lively in 1944 (the arranger was Axel Stordahl)...

Here's Sinatra at a Columbia Records recording session singing If You Are But a Dream in 1944, with Axel Stordahl conducting. Notice how hip Sinatra's phrasing is after taking the intro as a straight croon...

Here's Sinatra and Jane Russell singing a duet on Kisses and Tears from Double Dynamite in 1951...

And here's Sinatra singing She's Funny That Way from Meet Danny Wilson in 1951. I thought the horn solo was by cornetist Bobby Hackett, but trumpeter-reader Jeff Helgesen writes, "Here's what I have for the trumpet personnel for Meet Danny Wilson: Mannie Klein, Robert Goodrich and Don Linder. At first blush I would have guessed that Mannie Klein took the obligato, but the "actor" in the scene is playing the trumpet in all the right spots. IMDB lists the uncredited trumpet player on screen as Charlie Parlato, who would later play with the Lawrence Welk Orchestra. So...likely him." As Sinatra says at the end of the clip, "That's the way we go"...

Who Was Flip Nuñez?

A couple of weeks ago, I posted about singer Bev Kelly and included a track of her singing Long Ago and Far Away live in San Francisco in 1960. After her first run through the song, Bev introduced her pianist prior to his solo: "Flip Nuñez." Most readers may be unfamiliar with the pianist-singer and composer (1931-1995), largely because he spent much of his career in San Francisco. For a chunk of the early 1960s, he was often at San Francisco's Bop City.

Nuñez didn't record much jazz—just a handful of albums, including one very hip, eclectic leadership album that really should be reissued called My Own Time and Space (1976), on the Catalyst label. It features Pat Britt (as), Flip Nunez (p, elp, org, synt, clavinet, vcl), Michael Howell (g), Tom Rutley (b,el-b), Vince Lateano (d,perc) and Willie Colon (cga,bgo). [Image of Flip Nuñez above from YouTube]

Here's D'Ju Like Me from the album...

D'Ju Like Me

Here's Nuñez on piano backing the very hip Jo Canion on Born to Be Blue...

Here's Nuñez behind Canion, who's singing Nothin' Ever Changes, featuring Noel Jewkes on tenor saxophone and Vince Lateano on drums...

And Bill Kirchner sent along See You Later, probably Nuñez's most covered song, with Nuñez on keyboards and vocal, from My Own Time and Space...

Ted Brown: Live at Trumpets

Inspired by pianist Lennie Tristano, tenor saxophonist Ted Brown (above) came up in what we now call the cool school of jazz. Saxophonists who played in this style tended to blow in dryer, pastel tones while keeping a rigid sense of time while unspooling long ribbons of improvised lines. Though Brown studied with Tristano, his sound shares much with tenor saxophonist Warne Marsh, with whom he first recorded in 1956.

In 2006 and 2010, Brown's quartet—Brown on tenor saxophone, Jon Easton on piano, Don Messina on bass and Bill Chattin on drums—appeared at Trumpets in Montclair, N.J. Fortunately for us, Don Messina recorded the gigs. The music on Ted Brown Quartet Live at Trumpets (Cadence) is terrific. It's melodic and as delightfully dry as a cold glass of Sancerre.

The first five tracks—Somebody Loves Me, Relaxin' at Camarillo, Love Me or Leave Me, Sweet and Lovely, and Broadway—were recorded in August 2006. The remaining four—When You're Smiling, The Best Thing for You (Would Be Me), Pennies From Heaven and Anthropology—were recorded in August 2010. [Photo above of Don Messina]

What makes this album so special is how all four members of the group operate hand in glove. Brown's horn is delightfully woody and melodic, as if he's singing the songs in his head as he plays. Easton's piano is impeccable with a strong passion for Tristano. Don's bass throbs throughout and is the instrument that gets your foot tapping. And Chattin's drums are sheer and serve as the fabric that brings everything together, especially when he's on brushes. [Photo above of the Ted Brown Quartet at Trumpets on Aug. 6, 2011 by Mark Weber]

Born in Rochester, N.Y., on Dec. 1, 1927, Brown moved with his family to Southern California in 1942 when his father was stationed there during World War II. Brown began on the banjo but switched to the violin and then the clarinet and tenor saxophone. His uncle taught him the latter two instruments. Brown played with his father, a guitarist who encouraged him to improvise and transcribe records. The rest of Brown's bio you can read at his site here. It's quite a fascinating story.

Brown recorded as a leader with Art Pepper (Free Wheeling in 1956) and on albums by Lee Konitz (Lee Konitz Meets Jimmy Giuffre in 1959, Figure and Spirit in 1976, Sound of Surprise in 1999 and Dig-It in 1999) and several albums by Warne Marsh and pianist Hod O'Brien. He also recorded a series of leadership albums starting in the 1980s.

Ted Brown is 89.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Ted Brown Quartet: Live at Trumpets (Cadence) here.

JazzWax clip: Here's Pennies From Heaven...

Pennies From Heaven

A special thanks to Don Messina.

John Vanore: Stolen Moments

There were only seven musicians on Oliver Nelson's The Blues and the Abstract Truth in February 1961. But as Creed Taylor, the album's producer, told me in an interview in 2008, the extraordinary way in which Nelson arranged the septet allowed them to sound 10 times larger. Even more surprising is that the entire album was completed at Rudy Van Gelder's New Jersey studio in a single session. Who came up with the album's unusual title? [Photo above of John Vanore by Dave Rainy]

"Me," Creed said. "I thought we should make a statement about the music. It was the blues, but it was an abstract blues that you hadn’t heard before. It was Oliver Nelson’s impression of the blues. Given the music, we had to package the record in a different way. The blues is supposed to be 12 bars and down and dirty. Here we had something like an architectural structure of something that existed in 12 bars but surely was abstract. And the music wasn’t trying to put anyone on. There was nothing contrived. It was the truth. Oliver meant every note he wrote. I’ve always liked that title."

Over the years, Nelson's influence has turned up in many interesting places. In 1977, two years after his passing, while recording their Aja album, Steely Dan's Donald Fagen and Walter Becker asked horn arranger Tom Scott for a Nelson feel on Deacon Blues. As Scott told me in 2015, "I used a sound that mirrored Oliver Nelson’s orchestral style. I wrote in these 'rubs'—two notes close together in the middle register played by the tenor and baritone saxophones. This produces a really thick, reedy sound."

Now John Vanore has just released Stolen Moments, a tribute album that embraces the Nelson catalog with thrilling results. The nine song choices are smart, they're in the best possible order and Vanore's arrangements couldn't be more vibrant and dynamic.

Here are the songs Vanore chose and, in parenthesis, the Nelson albums on which they appeared: Self-Help Is Needed (Black, Brown and Beautiful), A Taste of Honey (from the album of the same name by Lloyd G. Mayers), Stolen Moments (The Blues and the Abstract Truth), El Gato (from the album of the same name by Gato Barbieri), St. Louis Blues (from Ramsey Lewis's Country Meets the Blues), Blues and the Abstract Truth (More Blues and the Abstract Truth), Greensleeves (Leonard Feather's Encyclopedia of Jazz All-Stars), I Hope in Time a Change Will Come (Black, Brown and Beautiful) and Reuben's Rondo (Skull Session).

Vanore, who is from Philadelphia, assembled a dozen superb core musicians for this project, with others added on different tracks. The full band features Tony Kadleck, Augie Haas, Jon Owens and Dave Ballou (trumpets); Ryan Keberle and Dave Taylor (trombones); Adam Unsworth and George Barnett (French horns); Steve Wilson and Bob Malach (saxophones); Jim Ridl (piano); Greg Kettinger (guitar); Mike Richmond (bass); Danny Gottlieb (drums) and Beth Gottlieb (percussion).[Photo above of the orchestra, courtesy of John Vanore]

The musicianship is extraordinary throughout. It's soulful, swinging and flawless, which is remarkable given the intricacies of the music and the twists and turns of Vanore's charts. The beauty is that Vanore didn't mess around with the purity of Nelson's sound or turn his approach inside out. There was no need to. Instead, Vanore's arrangements remain true to Nelson's spirit, with new solos and fascinating introductions and passages that only enrich the original material.

Vanore arranged and conducted the band, and he plays a trumpet solo on the title track. In college, Vanore had the good fortune to attend a summer program directed by Nelson. It was then that he decided to pursue a career in music. After college, he joined the Woody Herman band on the road. Back in Philadelphia, he was a first-call trumpet player for top artists who performed in town, including Tony Bennett, Michel LeGrand and Louis Belson. Vanore currently is director of music at Widener University in Chester, Pa. [Photo above of Vanore conducting, courtesy of John Vanore]

In the press release that came with the album, Vanore is clear on why he avoided tinkering with Nelson's work: “I would never take Oliver Nelson’s arrangements and just record them,” Vanore says. “This isn’t a ghost band. I kept the identity and essence of Oliver’s music but made them my own. I’m trying to tell his story with my words.” And Vanore does so royally. [Photo above of Bob Malach and Steve Wilson, courtesy of John Vanore]

A special hats off to alto saxophonist Steve Wilson, who handles Nelson's soaring solos. My only tiny wish is that they had included 3, 2, 1, 0 from Black, Brown and Beautiful. My guess is there's an arrangement of the song sitting in Vanore's leather music bag. This is a must own album and a gateway to Oliver Nelson's extraordinary discography.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find John Vanore's Stolen Moments (Acoustical Concepts) here.

JazzWax clip: Here's Self-Help Is Needed, with Steve Wilson on alto saxophone...

Self-Help Is Needed

Jerry Lewis: (1926-2017)

Jerry Lewis, whose geeky, high-strung brand of humor starting in the late 1940s made him a national sensation and early TV star while still in his 20s, and whose seemingly ad-libbed routines as a befuddled jerk in '60s films influenced several generations of improv comics, died on Aug. 20. He was 91.

I was never a huge fan. His nerdy, screechy comedy bits with Dean Martin always seemed grating and juvenile (a generational thing?), and most of his movies with Martin were consistently dreadful. Yet somehow, Lewis managed to connect with both parents and teens well into the 1960s at a time when the generations were at each other's throats. His finest moment on screen (other than his tireless efforts to raise lots of money for good causes) was his role in The King of Comedy, in which he pretty much played himself.

For me, Lewis excelled when his comedy was combined with his physical agility and love for jazz, especially Count Basie's band. Lewis also had an uncanny ability to see the absurdity of everyday products and situations. When his material was great, his timing and silliness could reach a fever pitch. In this regard, his delivery had the rhythm of a drummer, an instrument he could play well.

To illustrate the best of Lewis, here are eight of my favorite clips...

Here's Jerry Lewis in Cinderfella (1960) miming Count Basie's Cute...

Here's Lewis in the ball scene from Cinderfella with Anna Maria Alberghetti and Count Basie...

Here's Lewis in The Errand Boy (1961) miming Basie's Blues in Hoss's Flat...

Here's Lewis in The Nutty Professor (1963), with Les Brown's band...

Here's Lewis learning German in Which Way to the Front (1970)...

Here's Lewis with the Treniers in 1954...

Here's Lewis again in The Errand Boy...

And here's Lewis conducting Count Basie's band performing April in Paris during his 1980 Muscular Dystrophy Association Telethon...