JazzWax

Lenny Breau and Ron Halldorson

Few guitarists are as beloved by fans and musicians as Lenny Breau. He played the guitar with natural swing and elegance, treating the instrument like a piano. He'd play single-note melody lines while accompanying himself with chords, much the way a jazz pianist would on the keyboard. While most guitars have six strings, Breau added a seventh string on the treble side. As a result, what you heard sounded like two guitarists playing a duet. His technique was that extraordinary and graceful.

Born in Maine, Breau's family moved to New Brunswick in Canada in the late 1940s. His parents were professional country musicians who performed and recorded until the mid-1970s. In the late 1950s, Breau left his family's country band and began playing jazz in Toronto. Breau's albums are marked by ringing bell-like tones on the guitar and improvised lines that dance around on the upper reaches of the instrument. Underneath were unusual chord voicings that were enormously appealing to the ear.

One of his early albums was Guitar Sounds From Lenny Breau. Recorded in April 1968, the delicate album featured Ron Halldorson (b) and Reg Kelln (d). The songs are a delightful mix of pop and country hits, all taken with a gentle jazz lilt: King of the Road, A Hard Day's Night, Georgia on My Mind, My Funny Valentine, Cold Cold Heart, Taranta, Don't Think Twice It's All Right, Monday Monday, Freight Train, Music to Watch Girls By and Call Me.

The reason I thought about this album yesterday is that I wrote about Ron Halldorson's remarkable new leadership album, Happy Talk, over the weekend. Here's what Ron had to say about playing with Lenny:

Unfortunately, there are no recordings of Lenny and me playing two guitars—only the two RCA albums on which I played electric bass. I reluctantly picked up the electric bass at his request and worked with his trio for many years. Supporting Lenny musically was a perilous task. He wanted absolute freedom and spontaneity. We never knew what he would play next, what key, what feel, how to start or how to end. It was like walking in a minefield but very exciting all the same.

Sadly Lenny had a drug problem from his late teens. And yet he continued to innovate through all that until his death in 1984. He was my dear friend and constant inspiration. I chose not to try to emulate his playing as I wanted my own voice to come through. I also knew that no one could ever match his ability. I am always surprised at how many people have never heard of him and yet all the big name jazz guitar players knew and adored him. [Photo above of Ron Halldorson]

I worked with Lenny for close to 10 years doing session work in Winnipeg until he began to wander from place to place. When we played together, we were constantly changing the time feel. That might come from any one of us. But we had a chemistry together that got us through. I think it's called love. And respect.

The idea for this post started when I stumbled across the following cool clip on YouTube of a Canadian television broadcast in 1964 featuring guitarists Lenny Breau on the left, Jim Pirie in the middle and Ron Halldorson on the right...

Here's what Ron had to say about the video:

The clip of the three of us is from a CBC Winnipeg production. Unfortunately, 'artsy' lighting made it impossible to see anyone. I can't remember how many tunes we did for this show but there were several nice arrangements that we worked out. As you can see, there were no wires running from our guitars to amps and speakers. That's because we were syncing to music we recorded earlier during a rehearsal.

As I recall, we worked up the arrangements by ear at a Winnipeg club that Lenny and I were working in at the time. When we went into the TV studio for the rehearsal recording session, we had our stuff pretty much together, except for teaching the charts to the rhythm section.

Back then, the TV crew didn’t really want to be bothered dealing with live-to-videotape audio (though we did do live-to-air network TV in those days with all live audio as well). They wanted the audio to be a done deal so they could just focus on picture. The magic of television.

Eventually, Jim Pirie moved to Toronto and was a session player before picking up where Robert Farnon had left off as a string writer. Farnon was quite a Canadian icon in the music world. Anyway, people would compare Jim Pirie to Farnon as time went on.

Lenny Breau died in 1984.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Guitar Sounds From Lenny Breau here. Lenny and Ron's other album for RCA was The Velvet Touch of Lenny Breau. You'll find it here.

And you'll find guitarist Ron Halldorson's new CD Happy Talk here.

JazzWax clips: Here's Lenny Breau playing in a rare video video clip...

And here's a documentary on Breau and his mysterious death...

A special thanks to David Langner.

Petula, Sonny and Gap

In The Wall Street Journal this week, I interviewed Petula Clark on growing up in London and Wales (go here). Most people are unaware that Petula was a child singer and actor in the U.K. during World War II. She also was a singing sensation in France in the late 1950s. By the time she recorded Downtown in 1965 and invaded America, she was 32. This interview was deeply personal. The Beatles meant very little to me from 1964 to 1966. They were marketed to screaming girls, who fueled Beatlemania. My lights went on when I first heard Petula sing Downtown on the radio, along with My Love, A Sign of the Times, Don't Sleep in the Subway and her other hits. Only then was I smitten. I couldn't wait to visit London and assumed that all of the girls and women there shared Pet's joyous, optimistic voice. And when I did get over there with my artist parents in '68, they were! [Photo of Petula Clark for The Wall Street Journal by Brad Trent, my favorite celebrity photographer]

Here's Petula singing Downtown in 1965 (she told me the shiny black vinyl trench coat in the video was hers)...

And here's a strange British ad for stuffed bears sold at Heathrow Airport (set in 1967), with Petula singing I Couldn't Live Without Your Love. If you look carefully, 40 seconds in, you'll see Petula seated across the aisle in a cameo appearance...

Also in the WSJ, I interviewed author and Georgetown University professor Abigail Marsh on the Black Eyed Peas' Where Is the Love? (go here). Abigail's latest book is The Fear Factor: How One Emotion Connects Altruists, Psychopaths, and Everyone In-Between (Basic Books). Here's Abigail giving a TED talk on why some people are more altruistic than others...

And finally, the WSJ's Mansion editors and I picked our 12 favorite "House Call" columns of 2017 for a post that provides links to each one (go here).

SiriusXM and me. During the blizzard in New York last week, I made my way to the Midtown studios of SiriusXM to talk with Feedback hosts Nik Carter and Lori Majewski (above) about my recent "Anatomy of a Song" column for the WSJ on Spandau Ballet's True. Nik and Lori are wonderful, and they're so good to me. To hear the show, go here.

Spotted in Boston. I took some time off last week in Boston. At the Barnes & Noble in the Prudential Center, I noticed that my book, Anatomy of a Song, was in good company. Buy the book here. Also available in the U.K.

Spotted in New York. At the Port Authority Bus Terminal, singer Tessa Souter snapped this one of my book cozying up to a member of the British royal family. 

Sonny Rollins. Following my post last week on Sonny Rollins and the Contemporary Leaders (1958), produced by Lester Koenig, I heard from his son John Koenig:

"This album has long been one of my favorites in our Contemporary catalog. It was so overshadowed by Way Out West that many people dismissed it. I remember a conversation I had with [Riverside producer] Orrin Keepnews, to whom I was extolling the virtues of the Contemporary Leaders album. Orrin said, "But Way Out West is a superior album." Even though Orrin was a friend, as a younger colleague, I was not prepared to belabor the point. After all, Way Out West is one of Sonny's most iconic albums.

But for me, Contemporary Leaders has an infectious vitality that is an extraordinary showcase for Sonny's signature inventiveness. It's a post-graduate course in making great art with popular songs one wouldn't normally think of as likely vehicles for great jazz improvisation. It's virtuosic in every way.

One thing that always bothered me was that the critical reception for Contemporary Leaders was mixed. Sonny was excoriated by certain critics for his solo on my favorite track, I've Found a New Baby. He was accused of not taking the idiom seriously; of putting listeners on. From our vantage point today, it's inane criticism. But the stain imposed on the record by those national critics seems to have persisted.

A large portion of that solo consists of Sonny playing completely captivating rhythmic phrases. For me, it's one of the great solos, but it largely fell on deaf ears back then. It was those critics' loss. Thanks, Marc, for picking up on what I regard as one of Sonny's—and my father's—masterpieces."

Billy Collins, a former U.S. Poet Laureate and my favorite poet, sent along the following note after my post on Cannonball Adderley...

"Marc, thanks for Cannonball. I always admired how he could step up from his funkiness to playing with Miles. And back again. Years ago, a friend from Florida State was driving me back to the airport in Tallahassee after my book reading. As we passed a cemetery, he mentioned that the Adderley Brothers were buried there. We turned around. And there they were, together, with a shared headstone that said "Adderley."  Inscribed on Nat's stone was a staff and a riff of notes. I couldn't read them, but I wrote down the notes. When I got home, I played them on my piano. They were the opening to Work Song. Happy New Year! With ongoing appreciation."

Two albums I dig. Pianist Gap Mangione sent along his album Live in Toronto (Josh), featuring his quintet with Pat LaBarbera and Andy Weinzier on saxes (and Neil Swainson on bass and Steve Curry on drums). Gap is a terrific pianist and arranger, and this album really cooks. Dig Serenata...

Serenata

Legendary Canadian guitarist Ron Halldorson sent along his CD Happy Talk, a duet album with bassist Julian Bradford. An album with seriously tasty string work that's a solid swinger. You'll find yourself listening to this one over and over again. I did. Here's Ron's Emma...

Emma

Admiral William H. McRaven. Last week, I mentioned I had interivewed Admiral McRaven for my "Playlist" column. Many of you emailed to remind of his powerful speech at the University of Texas at Austin on May 17, 2014. For those of you unfamiliar with the admiral's talk, here it is...

Holli Ross. Last year, singer Holli Ross performed at the Old Bridge Public Library in Old Bridge, N.J., backed by pianist Joel Zelnik, bassist Brian Glassman and drummer David Cox. Her rendition of Come Rain or Come Shine here is wonderful...

Max Roach radio. WKCR-FM in New York will present its annual "Max Roach Birthday Broadcast" on Wednesday, January 10. It will last 24 hours starting next Tuesday night at 11:59 p.m. (EST). You can listen from anywhere in the world on your computer or phone by going here.

Peter Pan. If you love mischievous, dry British humor, you'll dig the BBC's Peter Pan Goes Wrong. A colleague sent it along. Go here...

What the heck. Here's Alton Ellis, a rocksteady superstar in Jamaica, singing his sensational 1970 cover of Blood, Sweat & Tears' You Made Me So Very Happy...

Oddball album covers of the week.

While listening to a few hours of Jamaican rocksteady on Friday, I came across a cover that reminded me of another...

Video: Sonny Rollins, 1968

Authorship of the jazz standard Four has always been in question. Miles Davis was the first to record the song in 1954 and is credited as the sole composer. But it has long been argued by jazz writers that Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson wrote the song, along with Tune Up, and loaned them to Davis to record. Somehow Davis wound up with official credit, which Vinson never bothered to challenge. In almost all of these narratives, Davis is cast as a song thief.

In truth, we don't really know who wrote Four. Vinson may have played a variation of the song for Davis, and then Davis altered it sufficiently to make it his own. Or after Davis recorded the song, Prestige owner and producer Bob Weinstock simply wrote down Davis's name as composer. Or Vinson may have had virtually nothing to do with Four's writing but thought he did. Or Davis stole them. We'll never know for sure.

What we do know is that the song has been recorded more than 300 times by jazz musicians and that most fans never tire of hearing it. Let's listen to the first recording of the song by Miles Davis in 1954 and then a 1968 video of Sonny Rollins playing it:

Here's Miles Davis playing Four backed by Horace Silver (p), Percy Heath (b) and Art Blakey (d) in 1954...

And here's tenor saxophonist Sonny Rollins backed by pianist Kenny Drew, bassist Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen and drummer Albert "Tootie" Heath in Denmark in 1968. The rendition opens with Sonny improvising a solo introduction, referencing quite a few songs. To my ear, in order, they include They Can't Take That Away From Me, Don't Stop the Carnival, The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze, I Understand and I Can't Get Started. Then dig how Sonny backs into Four. Remarkable...

A special thanks to singer JaRon Eames for sending along the clip of Sonny Rollins.

Videos: Freewheeling Peggy Lee

When Peggy Lee wasn't stuffed into elaborate ball gowns with cinched waists and forced to appear on TV with a glazed, ice-queen expression, she could be downright soulful and bluesy. Personally, I never cared much for Fever or any of the other hyper-stylized slow-burn songs that turned Lee into an emotionless caricature of herself. I much more prefer the down-and-dirty Peggy Lee, the "barefoot" singer who could let it all out with emotion and feeling. Here are five videos of the Peggy Lee I love most...

Here's Lee singing Yes Indeed at the Oakland Naval Hospital in 1961. Watch how she raises the spirits of convalescing sailors (the video has a slow start, so bear with it)...

Here's Non Dimenticar and My Romance. Like a great actress, Lee fully understood the camera and how to use her face while singing to charm an audience...

Here's Lee at the Hollywood Bowl in the early 1950s singing From This Moment On. This was Lee free and easy, providing a sense of who she was deep down...

Here's Lee singing Misty. Watch her mouth contort on notes as her eyes move from left to right and back, like search lights...

And here's Lee singing I Love Being Here With You. Again, free, loose and without airs...

Sonny Rollins: Koenig's Leaders

Yesterday afternoon I spoke at length with Sonny Rollins. We talk fairly regularly by phone, and this time we spoke about a wide range of career topics, from his time in India to his visits to the West Coast, where he recorded two remarkable albums for Contemporary Records in 1957 and '58. On his first trip to Los Angeles, Sonny was a member of the Max Roach Quintet, featuring Kenny Dorham (tp), Sonny Rollins (ts), Ray Bryant (p), George Morrow (b) and Max Roach (d).

Sonny wasn't under contract to a label at the time, and Lester Koenig, the producer and founder of Contemporary Records, wisely asked him to record. Koenig left the songs and sidemen choices to Sonny. The result was Way Out West, recorded in March 1957, with bassist Ray Brown and drummer Shelly Manne (for my interview with Sonny on the album, go here). Before Sonny returned to New York, he proposed to his first wife—the actress-model Dawn Finney. Sonny said they were introduced in L.A. a year earlier by dancer Frances Taylor. Taylor was dating Miles Davis at the time and would marry the trumpeter in 1960. Finney returned with Sonny to New York but the marriage lasted only a year. [Photo above of Lester Koenig by Ray Avery/CTSImages]

In the fall of 1958, Sonny was again on the West Coast, performing at the first Monterey Jazz Festival and playing clubs in L.A. and San Francisco. While in San Francisco, Sonny met bassist Leroy Vinnegar, who was leading a group. The two hit it off and they agreed to record together. Sonny reached out to Koenig at Contemporary. Koenig was overjoyed. Sonny, with Koenig's suggestions, chose the rest of the rhythm section—pianist Hampton Hawes and drummer Shelly Manne.

Then Koenig had an idea. He asked Sonny if he would be open to adding a guitar. Sonny had never recorded in the studio with a small group that included a guitar. Rene Thomas, of course, was on Sonny Rollins and the Big Brass, recorded earlier in the '58. But that was a large-ensemble session. Sonny told Koenig, "Why not," and Barney Kessel was brought on. Victor Feldman played vibes on one track, You.

The result was Sonny Rollins and the Contemporary Leaders. As Koenig wrote in the album's liner notes: "By this time the 'sidemen' were all Contemporary leaders in their own right, and it was decided to make it an all-leader affair... The tunes for the album were selected by Rollins from the seemingly inexhaustible sheaf of music he carries in his saxophone case." [Photo above of Sonny Rollins, right, recording at Contemporary Records in October 1958; also pictured, Hampton Hawes on piano, Shelly Manne on drums, Leroy Vinnegar on bass and Barney Kessel on guitar]

Recorded over three nights in October 1958, the album's songs were all standards—I've Told Ev'ry Little Star, Rock-A-Bye Your Baby With a Dixie Melody, How High the Moon, You, I've Found a New Baby, Alone Together, In the Chapel and The Song Is You.

Many jazz fans are either unaware of this album or have skipped over it. The latter group tends to view the recording incorrectly as a "West Coast jazz" attempt or not up to the same level as Sonny's East Coast recordings of the same period. Both conclusions are erroneous. In fact, I'd say this album marked an significant milestone in Sonny's career and playing. Though he would retreat to New York's Williamsburg Bridge in '59 to spend two years rediscovering himself through lengthy, solitary outdoor practice sessions, Contemporary Leaders gives us a glimpse of where Sonny was heading in his creative development.

First, Sonny had a highly polished and nimble rhythm section on the sessions that allowed him to experiment on the fly. For example, if you want to hear the basis for Sonny's union with guitarist Jim Hall on The Bridge in 1962, listen to How High the Moon, on which Sonny plays with just Kessel and Vinnegar, with the piano and drums sitting out.

Second, the tight support of the rhythm section allowed Sonny to unwind. For example, listen to Sonny's natural speed and relaxed delivery on You, not to mention his dexterous exchange with Feldman on vibes. And third, Sonny was already in John Coltrane's abstract milieu on The Song Is You, offering up his own "sheets of sound."

As Sonny told me yesterday he loved being in California in 1958. "New York was concrete and could be oppressive. Los Angeles back then was beautiful. It had nature—palm trees and cactus—and plenty of open spaces. It was emotionally liberating. How I felt was in the music." Indeed, it was.

JazzWax tracks: Sonny Rollins and the Contemporary Leaders is long overdue for a remastering. There's an entire page of CD and vinyl releases of the album at different price levels at Amazon.

It's also at Spotify.

JazzWax clip: Here's How High the Moon, with just Barney Kessel and Leroy Vinnegar.

And here's You, with Victor Feldman on vibes...

Donald Byrd: Fuego

Trumpeter Donald Byrd first came to New York from Detroit in 1955, when he was 22. While studying for a master's degree at the Manhattan School of Music, Byrd played in pianist George Wallington's quintet at the Cafe Bohemia. The group featured alto saxophonist Jackie McLean and recorded an album live there. In the late 1950s, Byrd recorded five hard-bop albums with alto saxophonist Gigi Gryce before signing with Blue Note in 1958. The label wisely paired Byrd with baritone saxophonist Pepper Adams for a series of high-energy albums, most notably Off to the Races and Byrd in Hand. [Photo of Donald Byrd above with Jackie McLean at the October 1959 recording session for Feugo by Francis Wolff]

Byrd's next album after Byrd in Hand was Fuego, recorded in October 1959. Byrd used a Besson MEHA pocket cornet and was joined by McLean (as), Duke Pearson (p), Doug Watkins (b) and Lex Humphries (d)—a sensational group. All of the songs on the album were by Byrd and all are exquisite. I'm not sure why Byrd chose to use the pocket cornet, but it added a sound that was slightly more urgent in tone.

The music here has a funk-Latin feel, with a savory hard-bop energy and bluesy mood. McLean's muscular drive and yearning wails are perfect against Byrd's fleshy lines and bending trumpet notes. McLean is in top form, akin to his blowing on Freddie Redd's Music From 'The Connection,' recorded the following year in 1960. This comparison is particularly apt on Byrd's Lament, Low Life and Bup a Loup. Byrd, meanwhile, comes into his own here with sensitivity and grace. [Photo above of Jackie McLean by Francis Wolff]

All of Byrd's songs on Fuego are complex, which means the group was given ample rehearsal time by producer and Blue Note owner Alfred Lion. What's more, the rhythm section behind Byrd and McLean was terrific. Duke Pearson's lyrical, percussive piano sweetens Byrd and McLean neatly, while Watkins on bass and Humphries on drums work together like best friends. This is a perfect, must-own album. [Photo above of Duke Pearson]

Given all of the trumpet greats in the late 1950s and '60s—including Miles Davis, Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Dizzy Gillespie, Blue Mitchell, Idrees Sulieman and Howard McGhee to name just a handful—Byrd's star seems to be fading now. There aren't many tribute albums these days, and his name comes up less frequently in conversation. Which is a shame. Byrd was a terrific, soulful player and an extraordinarily gifted composer. He also had a terrific fusion career starting in the late 1960s that lasted throughout the '70s. More on that phase in a later post. [Photo above of Doug Watkins by Francis Wolff]

Donald Byrd died in 2013.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Donald Byrd's Fuego here. It's also at Spotify.

JazzWax clip: Here's Lament. Note how the rhythm section creates a beautiful texture behind Byrd's trumpet and McLean's alto sax...

A special thanks to Jeff Helgesen.

Teddy Wilson: Jan. 1, 1955

Sixty-three years ago, on New Year's Day in 1955, pianist Teddy Wilson, bassist Milt Hinton and drummer Jo Jones went into a studio for Norgran Records and recorded The Creative Teddy Wilson, a 12-inch album.

When Norman Granz founded Verve a year later for Ella Fitzgerald, the Wilson tracks were soon reissued on the label with a new title—Teddy Wilson: For Quiet Lovers. You'll find it at Spotify or at Amazon. In celebration of New Year's Day, here are a handful of songs from the album:  

Here's Blues for the Oldest Profession...

Here's It Had to Be You...

Here's You Took Advantage of Me...

 

Here's Three Little Words...

Here's If I Had You...

Here's Moonlight on the Ganges...

Here's April in Paris...

And here's Get Out of Town...