Last time I posted about the late Hal McKusick, I showcased six video clips of the reed man. Yesterday, I was thinking about him, so I thought I'd share five audio clips of Hal playing solos:
Here's Hal on alto saxophone playing Don't Worry About Me...
Here's Hal on clarinet playing I'm Glad There Is You...
Here's Hal on alto saxophone playing Irresistible You...
Here's Hal playing alto saxophone on Give 'Em Hal...
Bonus:Here's Hal in the early 1960s on TV's I've Got a Secret. He's on the right on the bandstand and on the right when the musicians gather behind Steve Allen. You have to be fast to catch Hal's sense of humor, like when he ad libs, "Not the way we play it"...
If you went to music school in the 1930s or '40s, you most likely joined a symphony orchestra after graduation or you taught in high school. That's because music schools in the States back then meant formal European training and classical composition, theory and performance. Certain instruments didn't even exist in music schools, most notably the saxophone. The saxophone was considered an unworthy marching-band instrument or raucous wailer. If you were reed-minded back then, the best you could do at music school was the clarinet. Music schools also looked down their noses at swing and pop—the music of mugs, Lotharios and homemakers in need of sentimental radio melodies as they ironed and swept.
But with the destruction of Europe and the success of swing bands in the 1940s, a few prescient educators saw that some sort of American dance band curriculum might be profitable as well as beneficial. The demand for such training expanded rapidly after World War II, as recording technology advanced and musically inclined veterans had an opportunity to attend college for free under the G.I. Bill.
The school with the most advanced band program in the late 1940s was North Texas State College. The visionary there was Gene Hall, a graduate student who in 1947 wrote a proposal for a bachelor's degree in "dance band." Approved, the program became the nation's first jazz studies degree. The fact that a college of North Texas State's size and remote location would even offer such a degree was partly due to Hall's passion, commitment and connections.
The other motivator was certainly the university's desire to get in on the G.I. Bill bonanza and expand its enrollment. Throughout the 1950s, Hall was instrumental in building relationships with bandleaders, specifically Stan Kenton. In the process the college was a farm team for major dance bands, recording studios and television orchestras looking to recruit bandstand-ready musicians acquainted with swing, improvisation and sight reading.
An hour and a half south of the college in Dallas, Dick and Kiz Harp also saw an opportunity. In the late 1950s, the singing duo ran a club in a warehouse on the north side of town called The 90th Floor, which they named after a Cole Porter song. Bruce Collier dug what he heard and recorded their performances and those by other artists who appeared at the club and at other venues—with their permission. An exceptional engineer, he called his label 90th Floor Records. In a short period of time, he started a recording studio and began taping artists at other venues.
A compilation of Bruce's recordings can be found on Circa 1960 (90th Floor Records). The album features five tracks by Gene Hall leading the North Texas State's Lab Band at the college campus in April 1959. Other tracks are by pianist Dick Harp at The 90th Floor club; the Paul Guerrero Quintet, vocalist Jane Ames and the Paul Guerrero Trio, and the Harvey Anderson Quartet recorded at Bruce's recording studio; and a smashing set by singer Ann Richards backed by her trio recorded at the Blue Mist in Dallas.
Without Bruce's foresight, this music would have evaporated as soon as the notes were played, never to be heard again. Instead, we have a glorious document of Gene Hall's swinging Lab Band and Ann Richards in her prime. The other tracks are terrific and reflect a West Coast sensibility. There isn't a bad track on this compilation. I just wish there was more. Much more.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Circa 1960 (90th Floor Records) here.
JazzWax clips: Here's the North Texas State Lab Band, led by Gene Hall, playing There Will Never Be Another You...
Sonny Clark was an elegant jazz pianist who recorded in the hard bop era and was influenced primarily by Bud Powell, though there's a touch of Horace Silver in his punctuation. Clark was a sideman on many important albums, including recordings by Buddy DeFranco, Serge Chaloff, Frank Rosolino, Sonny Criss, Howard Rumsey, Sonny Rollins, Hank Mobley, Lee Morgan, Tina Brooks, Jackie McLean, Grant Green, Dexter Gordon and many others. Surprisingly, he recorded only 10 studio leadership albums.
Among his finest album as a leader was Sonny Clark Trio, recorded in New York for the Time label in January 1960. While the entire album of Clark originals is a lyrical feast, Junka qualifies as an electrifying track. On the song, Clark moves catlike on the keyboard, springing with agility and landing softly in just the right places. Dig the feathery, hushed quality of his left hand as his right runs defiantly along the top. Bill Evans admired Clark's taste, his left hand and fluidity of his right. Buddy DeFranco loved Clark's ability to deftly unspool ribbons of beautiful improvisation.
Joining Clark on Junka: bassist George Duvivier and drummer Max Roach, on brushes. Sonny Clark died in 1963 at age 31.
JazzWax note: To read my two-part interview with Buddy DeFranco on Sonny Clark, go here. Remember, the link to Part 2 can be found above the red date at the top of Part 1.
In 1970, many of the surging white brass bands that played pop-rock were jazz influenced. The list included Blood Sweat & Tears, Chicago, the Flock, Dream and Collective Consciousness Society. And then there was Tower of Power, a largely white band weened on the soul-funk feel of the Mar-Keys, the James Brown Orchestra and other high-voltage R&B horn sections. I remember when East Bay Grease was released in 1970. The cover was nocturnal and cool—a black map of the Bay Area with white streets. The only way you could have known about the album and Rufus Miller's lead vocals is if a friend came back from San Francisco with it. The album was originally on Bill Graham's Fillmore label with limited distribution.
Oakland after World War II was a solid jazz and R&B hub. San Francisco was home to the Naval Station Treasure Island, and Oakland's Seventh Street was peppered with clubs that featured home-grown and touring artists. In the late 1960s, the historic neighborhood was shredded by the construction of the Bay Area Rapid Transit's above-ground track, eradicating what had been a African-American cultural haven. Much of the blues action shifted to San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury district. Many of the old theaters that became rock concert spaces attracted a significant number of British bands raised on American blues records and many African-American electric blues guitarists from Chicago. Tower of Power emerged in this environment—part funkified cover band, part band seeking its own soulful sound.
What made Tower of Power special was its tight horn section (trumpeters Greg Adams and David Padron; and saxophonists Emilio Castillo, Skip Mesquite and Steve Kupka), passionate vocals and standout drummer David Garibaldi. The band paid homage to both the greasy Oakland sound and the earthy soul of Memphis. [Photo above of me in 1973, photographed in high school carrying the Tower of Power LP]
The classic Tower of Power albums from the early 1970s that came after East Bay Grease were Bump City (1972), Tower of Power (1973), Back to Oakland (1974) and Urban Renewal (1975). All remain superb to this day. In the Slot (1975) and Ain't Nothin' Stoppin' Us Now (1976) had their moments. Perhaps TOP's finest album was Tower of Power, which was flawless from start to finish and included standouts such as What Is Hip?, Clever Girl, Get Yo Feet Back on the Ground and Clean Slate.
Hard to believe, but this year is Tower of Power's 50th anniversary. The band began in 1968 as The Motowns, playing soul in Oakland and Berkeley. In 1970, the band dropped its name for Tower of Power in an effort to better reflect its originality rather than their cover-band roots. The band achieved national recognition in 1972 with You're Still a Young Man and Down to the Nightclub. Both were from Bump City and both became Billboard pop chart hits. The band's third album, Tower of Power, featured significant personnel additions, including Lenny Williams on lead vocal, Lenny Pickett on tenor saxophone and Chester Thompson on keyboards. In 1975, the band suffered a stinging blow when Williams left the band to record as a solo artist. Some argue the band never fully recovered as disco washed over the landscape, undercutting the appeal of bump-and-grind funk and romantic soul. Whatever your thoughts, Tower of Power established a sound that every late-night TV show with a house band copied—including Saturday Night Live and Late Night with David Letterman, to name just two.
Fifty years later, Tower of Power's new album, Soul Side of Town (Mack Ave./Artistry), features four of the band's original members—tenor saxophonist Castillo, baritone saxophonist Kupka, bassist Prestia and drummer Garibaldi. The band's new arrangements were handled by David Eskridge, except Butter Fried, which was arranged by Adolfo Acosta and Joe Vannelli. The lead vocalists are Marcus Scott and Ray Greene, and both do a terrific job of combining the soul and funk styles. The joy of the album is that many of the songs have an updated '70s feel. These include Do You Like That? by Castillo and Mark Dolin, Let It Go by Castillo and Leo Sacks, and Can't Stop Thinking About You by Castillo, Dolin and Vannelli.
Don't expect the album to sound identical to the band's early vinyl. Nearly five decades have passed. Instead, view it as an East Bay reboot. The lead vocals are retro strong and the soul remains romantic and pleading. The band's original funk-fortified sound is still there, with the signature tight horn riffs and jumbo-sized drums. I only wish I still had my burnt-orange Javelin so I could take the album for a drive.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Tower of Power: Soul Side of Town (Mack Ave./Artistry) here.
This week in The Wall Street Journal, I interviewed Oscar-winning actress Eva Marie Saint for my "House Call" column in the Mansion section (go here). Ms. Saint talked about growing up near Albany, N.Y., why she expected to be a third-grade teacher and how she found a pin in a haystack.
We also talked about On the Waterfront (1954) and the famous glove-dropping scene. It was an accident that occurred in a rough take that director Elia Kazan insisted she do again in subsequent takes. Marlon Brando ingeniously put on her dropped glove. As I mentioned to Ms. Saint (to her delight), she's one of the only great actresses who acts with her mouth. Watch how it changes based on the mood of her character. Extraordinary. Here's that glove scene with Ms. Saint and Brando...
And here's Ms. Saint in North by Northwest (1959), with Cary Grant...
SiriusXM. If you missed me Thursday on SiriusXM's Feedback (ch. 106) with Nik Carter and Lori Majewski, you can still hear the entire show. I broke down Black Sabbath's Paranoid and we traced the origins of heavy metal from 1954 to 1970. Go here.
Frank Sinatra. The best book on Sinatra is Will Friedwald's Sinatra! The Song Is You (Chicago Review Press). It's now out in an expanded paperback edition with a forward by Tony Bennett. Go here.
John Coltrane. Following my post last week on John Coltrane'sTraneing In, Bob Porter, a former Prestige producer and author of Soul Jazz, sent along a fascinating email explaining why the album had one cover in 1957 and another in '61..
"Even though Rudy Van Gelder began recording in stereo in 1957, Prestige did not release stereo albums until more than a year later. Albums on Prestige's New Jazz label were rarely issued in stereo. While some of Van Gelder's stereo sessions were mixed down to mono, he ran one mono and one stereo machine during sessions.
"But the new Traneing In cover in 1961 wasn't motivated by new technology. What controlled the decision to reissue an album was the inventory of cardboard jackets and cover slicks. If you had slicks, you could fabricate jackets. But once your slicks were gone, your album was out of print. In some cases, like John Coltrane with the Red Garland Trio (1957), when the cover slicks were gone, Prestige owner Bob Weinstock simply had a new design created with Coltrane's image instead and re-issued the album as Traneing In (1961)."
Kenny Barron. Don Glanden sent along a link to an interview he did with pianist Kenny Barron in October. Don is head of Graduate Jazz Studies at Philadelphia’s University of the Arts. Go here...
Winard Harper, a jazz drummer and host of Moore's Lounge in Jersey City, N.J., was profiled by David Menzies in the The Jersey Journal. Harper will be playing a tribute to the late saxophonist Nathan Davis at Moore's this Sunday. Go here.
What the heck. In 1970, when Diana Ross left the Supremes, she was replaced by Jean Terrell. The group, sans Ross, had a hit with Up the Ladder to the Roof, which peaked at #10 on the Billboard pop chart in the spring of '70...
Oddball album cover of the week.
Another gruesome cover by an art direction team with little imagination and probably even less time to execute. "Hey, Joe has this weird gas mask at his desk. Might be good for the cover. Pete Jolly's a gas so it might work."
Whenever I'm hanging around on YouTube, I'm always amazed when I come across pianists around the world playing convincingly in the style of a jazz giant. Or convincingly enough that they sound like they're having a ball. Yesterday, I found a bunch of Red Garland wannabes. I play some piano, but if I were to take lessons again, I'd aspire to play like Red. Who wouldn't?
Marc Myers writes regularly for The Wall Street Journal and is author of "Rock Concert: An Oral History" (Grove), "Anatomy of a Song" (Grove) and "Why Jazz Happened." Founded in 2007, JazzWax has won three Jazz Journalists Association awards
