JazzWax

Darren, Billy and Mary

In the The Wall Street Journal this week, I interviewed producer-director Darren Star for my "House Call" column in the Mansion section (go here). Darren is the creator of TVs new Emily in Paris series as well as Beverly Hills 90210, Melrose Place, Sex and the City and Younger. [Photo above of Darren Star from YouTube]

Here's a scene from the delightfully effervescent Emily in Paris (Netflix) and the trailer...

Also in the WSJ, in case you missed yesterday's post, my "Anatomy of a Song" was an in-depth interview with Elvis Costello on his 1979 song Accidents Will Happen (go here).

SiriusXM. Join me on Wednesday when I'll be with Nik and Lori on SiriusXM's Feedback at 9 a.m. (ET) to talk about my interview with Elvis Costello and Accidents Will Happen. Feedback is on Channel 106.

Peter Guralnick is a yarn-driven, rock 'n' roll roots writer. His two-volume opus on Elvis Presley (Last Train to Memphis and Careless Love) is the definitive biography of the King, Dream Boogie is the go-to Sam Cooke biography, and Sam Phillips: The Man Who Invented Rock 'n' Roll enabled Peter to spend time interviewing Phillips, starting in 1979, for a stunning, authoritative work. As a rock and jazz writer, I greatly admire Peter's gentle, evolving conversational style and his access. Best of all, he views his job as telling the Great American Story through the accomplishments of those who were larger than life and had the ability to make the nation feel as one through their music.

Peter's latest book is Looking to Get Lost: Adventures in Music & Writing (Little, Brown), a vast collection of essays on artists who mean the most to him or were sufficiently puzzling to merit closer inspection. What I love most about this anthology is Peter's Zip-Stripping of the synthetic veneer that cakes up on notable artists over time, masking the natural grain of their triumphs. Peter (above) rebuilds the true legacy of these artists and personalities by slowly revealing the factors that made them tick and the creative impulses that drove them.

Among my favorites are Peter's essays on Joe Tex, Tammy Wynette, Doc Pomus, Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, and Merle Haggard. For Peter, these aren't just music legends. They are post-war culture heroes who created the music that created a greater commonality than any movie or TV show and are still called upon by those who have lost faith during the current national turmoil. Peter reminds us that exceptional rock writing is essentially sublime storytelling.

Duncan Lamont. Following my post on a new album of Duncan Lamont songs by Esther Bennett, Sarah Moule and Daniela Clynes (above), vocalist Tessa Souter sent along the following:

Hi Marc. Duncan Lamont was such a talented songwriter. In case you're unaware, here's Daniela singing a wonderful Lamont song, Manhattan in the Rain...

Billy Collins, a former U.S. Poet Laureate, sent along a poem on Friday fresh from the computer. Billy's latest poetry collection is Whale Day (Random House). Reprinted with permission:

Sax

The air forcefully expelled
by the upright man in the porkpie hat
rushes over the quivering reed
and heads down the dark length
of the celebrated instrument,
then slides around a hairpin turn,
going up now toward the light
at the end of this odd tunnel
and escapes through the open oval
of the golden mouth,
bursting into the once quiet room
and causing the tiny ear drums
of all the cats and kitties
at the little tables or leaning on the bar
to vibrate in a most delightful way.  —(c)Billy Collins

Hippie horns. Following my post last week on '40s bandleaders who got groovy in the late '60s and '70s, I recived the following from Gary Dailey:

Hey Marc. I got a big kick out of the band uniform video clips. Above is the cover of the double album we did at State University of New York at Fredonia in the spring of 1971. Wives and girlfriends made the vests.

Pete Chilver (above) was a British guitarist with a short career (1943-1950) but is credited with establishing the electric guitar in the U.K. After he married Norma Domenico, sister of Lydia MacDonald, a popular singer for bandleader Ted Heath, they moved to Scotland to manage a hotel. Last week, I heard from their son, David:

Hi Marc. Given that my father's playing career was so brief, hardly any recordings featuring him are available. Fortunately, I recently discovered a small number on YouTube. Both date from around 1948, as they reflect early British bebop. It should be noted that these guys only had a few bop 78s to draw their learning from.

The first is Elevenses, by a septet comprising Ronnie Scott (ts), Johnny Dankworth (as), Hank Shaw (tp) Tommy Pollard (p), Pete Chilver (g), Joe Muddel (b) and Laurie Morgan (drums)...

The second example is a Ralph Sharon-led sextet playing a composition of his called Burman's Bauble. The line-up is Ralph Sharon (p), Victor Feldman (vib), Jimmy Skidmore (ts), Pete Chilver (g), Jack Fallon (bass) and Martin Ashton (d)...

David Thompson, a pianist in the Bill Evans style, sent along A Child Is Born this week. Here's David...

Correction. Last week I mentioned that in the Laurel & Hardy short featured, the record-store owner looked like Sid Chaplin. As Les Johnston pointed out, it was James Finlayson, a Scottish actor who went on to appear in nearly all the Laurel & Hardy silents and talkies. For more Finlayson, Les sent along Big Business (1929) here...

Leonard Bernstein playing piano and conducting an orchestra at the same time? Yep. Here he is doing just that on Ravel's Concerto in G...

Birth of the Lounge Act. When Las Vegas was  emerging in 1953, the first successful lounge act was the Mary Kaye Trio at the New Frontier casino. That's before Will Mastin, Louis Prima and Keely Smith, Dean and Jerry, and all the rest. Mary and brother Norman were from Hawaii. Here they are, Frank Ross (left), Mary Kaye (center), and brother Norman Kaye (right)...

Elvis Costello on 'Accidents'

Recently, I had a 45-minute phone conversation with Elvis Costello about Accidents Will Happen for my "Anatomy of a Song" column in The Wall Street Journal (go here). I've always been fascinated by the 1979 song that opens his album Armed Forces. It has an urgent pop structure and a new-wave delivery, but there are tensions within its lyrics that were never fully explained in Elvis's 2015 memoir, Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink. [Photo above of Elvis Costello by Ray Di Pietro, courtesy of Shore Fire's press page]

I last interviewed Elvis at length in 2015, when we talked about (The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes. This time, I was looking for the full story behind the enigmas in Accidents Will Happen, the song's influence and how it was recorded. Elvis was remarkably candid and confessional. In his book, he had hinted that the song was inspired by a dalliance with a female cab driver in Tucson, Ariz., in early 1978. During our interview, he said he had fabricated the encounter and used artistic license to concoct an anecdote that stood in for multiple dalliances.

We talked about the bad judgment he used at the time and the price he paid—a broken marriage. As Elvis put it, "I needed to construct a single episode in print to stand in for the truth, which was much less funny and much more embarrassing." Continuing, he talked about a bad decision he made that few rock stars regret: "Back in ’78, I was young and newly famous, and I didn’t have any sense of responsibility. Temptation came along, and I gave in to it more than I should have. That’s what this song is really about."

My job isn't to judge Elvis or anyone else. This is art, and sometimes art is found in real-life errors once they're given a spin. What I found fascinating was Elvis's willingness to talk about it and how he feels now. Equally intriguing was how his regrets about his dalliances fed into the song's lyrics. A revealing conversation about an artist's emotional tug of war and the creative process behind pop songwriting.

We also talked about the inspirations behind his song: Burt Bacharach and Hal David's Anyone Who Had a Heart, Randy Newman's I Don't Want to Hear It Anymore, the Four Tops' version of Walk Away Renée and the Beatles' Girl. None of these songs were cribbed. They were muses: Anyone Who Had a Heart's "and one" pauses to build drama; Newman's defensive line in a song that appears on Dusty Springfield's Dusty in Memphis; Walk Away Renée's descending bass line; and the first two words of the Beatles' Girl (Is there...) that John Lennon sings a cappella. (Elvis opens Accidents with the words Oh I... sung a cappella.)

I found Elvis's reflections compassionate and the details about his songwriting process revealing and eclectic. He remains one of the finest songwriters of the new-wave era and his lyrics are neatly enigmatic and biting, weaving together stories about romantic struggles and other personal issues. The result is always a personal puzzle, so unpacking Accidents was gratifying.

Elvis has two new albums coming—one available today called Hey Clockface and a box, Complete Armed Forces, due November 6. For those who may not be completely familiar with Elvis Costello, here are five of his songs:

Here's Elvis performing Accidents Will Happen with the Attractions in 1979...

Here's New Lace Sleeves in 1981...

Here's Everyday I Write the Book in 1983...

Here's Veronica in 1989...

Here's Elvis singing Toledo—his lyrics, Burt Bacharach's music and arrangement, in 1998...

And here's Elvis at the White House in 2010 paying tribute to Paul McCartney with Penny Lane...

Lamont Lament: London w/ Love

Back in April, I posted about Duncan Lamont, a wonderful British tenor saxophonist who also was an elegant and prolific songwriter. He composed a song a day well into his 80s, and a majority of them were beautifully crafted. His best known is probably Pretty People, which now is a standard and has been recorded by dozens of vocalists. Singers Nancy Marano and Frank Holder both recorded tribute albums to Lamont. Now we can add another.

British vocalists Esther Bennett (above), Sarah Moule and Daniela Clynes have just released a five-song EP entitled The Songs of Duncan Lamont. The tracks were recorded a few years ago, when Lamont was still with us and played behind two of the singers on four songs.

As Esther notes, "We originally intended for this to be a full album with three tracks from each of us and the group. Sarah and I each recorded three but with the arrival of the Covid-19 virus, recording studios closed and, unfortunately, Daniela was unable to record hers."

The songs are I Told You So, Pretty People, Stark Reality, There Ain't Nothin' Like the Blues and A Great Day in Harlem. [Photo above of Daniela Clynes]

Here's the personnel on each song:

I Told You So and Stark Reality — Sarah Moule (vcl), Simon Wallace (p) and Duncan Lamont (ts). Recorded on October 17, 2017.

Pretty People and There Ain't Nothin' Like the Blues — Esther Bennett (vcls), John Crawford (p), Simon Little (b), Mark Fletcher (d) and Duncan Lamont (ts). Recorded in November 2018.

A Great Day in Harlem — Esther Bennett, Sarah Moule and Daniela Clynes (vcls), Simon Wallace (p) and
Duncan Lamont Jr. (ts). Recorded in November 2019.

Oh to be in London listening to this music live. One day. Sigh. [Photo above of Duncan Lamont Jr., left and Duncan Lamont]

Duncan Lamont died in 2019.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find The Songs of Duncan Lamont here and here.

JazzWax clips: Here's Sarah Moule (vcl), Simon Wallace (p) and Duncan Lamont (ts) recording Lamont's Stark Reality, with an introduction by the composer...

And here's Esther Bennett singing There Ain't Nothin' Like the Blues, with Duncan Lamont Jr. (ts), Terence Collie (p) and Paul Michael (b) at the Bulls Head in Barnes, London, last October. 

Groovy Bands Make the Scene

The bohemian thrift-shop fashion of hippies photographed in San Francisco during the Summer of Love in 1967 won over the country's youth culture by year's end. Then came the colorful satin Nehru outfits of the Beatles in India in the spring of '68. The look and mainstreaming of psychedelia had a strange effect on adults in '69 and beyond.

That year, many grownups decided it was time to make the scene. Why should kids have all the fun? White bell-bottoms flew off store racks as did paisley shirts, Frye boots and neck scarves for men. Tinted aviator sunglasses were added as hair and sideburns went long.

Big-band leaders popular 25 years earlier also took notice and made some changes as they struggled to remain relevant. Here are five videos of top big bands in the late 1960s and '70s and how they changed their looks and locks to stay with it:

Here's a groovy Woody Herman in Swinging London in 1969...

Here's Buddy Rich in 1970 and band uniforms straight out of Robin Hood...

Here's Maynard Ferguson in the 1970s with Dinah Shore...

Here's a leisure-suited Stan Kenton in 1977 with matching band members...

And here's Duke Ellington in 1970 in a Yellow Submarine groove...

Elmo Hope and Joe Morris

Bebop's fast tempo and complex rhythms were embraced by modern-jazz fans when the jazz style emerged in the mid-1940s. But bop also provided jump blues with an opening. Bebop was spectacular and electrifying, but it wasn't for dancing. It was mostly for sitting and listening. As a result, jump blues, with its horn-driven dance beat made major inroads in Black neighborhoods and in the record market in general. By 1949, R&B was so popular that Billboard started an official R&B chart. Hundreds of R&B artists on small independent labels began having major hits. Jazz labels such as Blue Note took notice. [Photo above, of Blue Note founders Alfred Lion, left, and Francis Wolff (c) Mosaic Images]

During the late 1940s, Blue Note had begun to feature modern jazz artists such as Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk. But to remain in business, Blue Note founders Alfred Lion and Francis Wolff also needed to remain competitive. By 1952, they began recording jazz groups fronted by two and four horn players who were backed by a stronger, consistent beat. The music eventually became known as hard bop. Blue Note called this jazz-R&B fusion series New Faces, New Sounds.

Among the earliest 10-inch hard bop/R&B recordings were Blue Note's Lou Donaldson Quintet (1952), Lou Donaldson/Clifford Brown Quintet (1952) and Horace Silver Quintet with Lou Donaldson (1953).

What's interesting about the artists who pioneered hard bop is that many had came up through R&B. For example, Lou Donaldson had begun recording with Charlie Singleton, Blue Mitchell started with Paul "Hucklebuck" Williams, and Clifford Brown first recorded with Chris Powell and the Five Blue Flames. Many jazz musicians who recorded for other labels started out the same way. As noted in my post yesterday, Elmo Hope began in the Joe Morris Orchestra. The same goes for Johnny Griffin, Percy Heath and Philly Joe Jones.

Morris was a jazz trumpeter who started in Lionel Hampton's band in the 1940s as a player and arranger, and recorded with both jazz and blues players. In 1946, he left Hampton's band to form his own orchestra, which leaned heavily on the blues with a beat. In 1949, he had top R&B hits, including Drinkin' Wine, Spo-Dee-O-Dee, with Wynonie Harris; Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere; and Don't Take Your Love Away From Me. What they all had in common was Hope on piano.

What's fascinating is that as horn-centric hard-bop groups became R&B flavored, R&B groups became more jazzy. The cross-pollination is unmistakable. Morris is a prime example of a crossover artist who played jazz in a jump-blues band only to leave and form an R&B band that became jazzier over time. Many of these R&B bands swished back and forth between genres, with jazz influencing the blues and blues artists influencing jazz. Nothing in post-war music is pure, especially jazz.

Joe Morris died in 1958 of a cerebral hemorrhage. He was 36.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find collections of Joe Morris here and here.

JazzWax clips: Here are clips of the Joe Morris Orchestra with Elmo Hope on piano:

Here's Lowdown Baby (1949), with Morris on trumpet and vocal...

Here's Jump Everybody Jump (1951), with Jimmy "Baby Face" Lewis on vocal...

Here's That's What Makes My Baby Fat (1952), with the great Faye Adams on vocal...

And here's Midnight Grinder (1951)...

Elmo Hope Trio, 1959

In 1957, pianist Elmo Hope moved from New York to Los Angeles. He had little choice. His cabaret license had been suspended following a drug conviction, and the only place where he had musician friends and the prospect of work playing was on the West Coast. As Leonard Feather remarks in his 1970 liner notes for a reissue one of Hope's finest recordings, Elmo Hope Trio (Contemporary): "Black musicians [in L.A.] in the late 1950s and early '60s constituted a jazz underground; they surfaced occasionally on a record date at Contemporary or Pacific Jazz, or at one of the small jazz clubs. But mostly it was a period of scuffling."

Recorded in L.A. in February 1959, Hope was joined by Jimmy Bond on bass and Frank Butler on drums. Seven of the eight tracks were originals: B's a-Plenty, Barfly, Eejah, Boa, Something for Kenny, Minor Bertha and Tranquility. The sole standard was Like Someone in Love. In the notes, West Coast tenor saxophonist Harold Land reflected on Hope: "Each Elmo Hope composition seems to reveal a new aspect of the man's personality."

How true. Hope clearly was influenced by Bud Powell, but he wasn't a clone. While he exhibited long ribbons of spirited bop lines, there's a complexity to his playing that's all his own. Hope's improvisation didn't travel in straight lines but swirled and snapped like a mixing-bowl whisk. His improvisation was more fractured and jagged than Powell's, but with a less fierce hammering attack than Thelonious Monk's. Yet he has a Monkian flavor.

Hope spent four years in segregated L.A. and recorded with top Black musicians, including Land and Curtis Counce. Then he returned to record in New York. By then, he was married to Bertha Hope, and the couple had a daughter.

Hope started out playing R&B in the late 1940s with trumpeter Joe Morris's band, a background that came in handy for hard bop. In 1953, Hope was on one of very earliest hard-bop recordings, for Blue Note—New Faces, New Sounds: Lou Donaldson/Clifford Brown Quintet, featuring Brown (tp), Donaldson (as), Percy Heath (b) and Philly Jo Jones (d). Three of the songs on the date were written by Hope.

A long-time heroin user, Hope in New York was unable to gain jazz visibility as the music changed and opportunities dried up. His health declined and in 1967, he was hospitalized with pneumonia, suffering a fatal heart attack that May. He was 43.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Elmo Hope Trio here.

JazzWax clip: Here's B's a-Plenty...

And here's Eejah...

Bonus: Here's Hope with the Lou Donaldson and Clifford Brown Quintet playing his own De-Dah in 1953...

Peter, Joan and Stan

This week in The Wall Street Journal, I interviewed guitarist-songwriter Peter Frampton for my "House Call" column in the Mansion section (go here). Peter saw David Bowie perform in London on the steps of his school—when Bowie was 16 and Peter was 13. Bowie was in the Konrads at the time. Peter's dad was an art teacher at the school, and Bowie looked out for Peter over the years, resurrecting his career in 1987 when he invited him on his Glass Spider tour.

Here's Bowie and Peter looking for a beer in Madrid in 1987...

This song and album, Frampton Comes Alive!, was massive in 1976...

And this one...

The album was one of the best selling live albums of all time. It went to No. 1 on Billboard's album chart in April 1976 and held the top spot for 10 weeks. The album sold over 8 million copies in the U.S., roughly 11 million worldwide.

Spotted on top of a desk at the Last Vestige Music Shop in Albany, N.Y. If you don't have my book, Anatomy of a Song, you can order it for the holidays here. Bill McCann snapped the image above. My next book from Grove is coming Fall 2021. I just finished it, and I'll be providing details soon.

Barcelona meets Rio. In 2013, I was over in Barcelona for the U.S. State Department to give a series of jazz talks at the Barcelona Jazz Festival. There, I had the good fortune to meet Joan Chamorro (above), the music director of the Sant Andreu Jazz Band, trumpeter-singer Andrea Motis and other local young jazz stars. Two years later, Joan, Andrea and the rest of the band recorded Waters of March. Alba Armengou and Rita Payes were on vocals and Joel Frahm played the tenor saxophone solo. And if I'm not mistaken, the concert was held at the Palau de la Música Catalana (my WSJ essay here). [Photo above of Joan Chamorro courtesy of Joan Chamorro]

So precious, go here...

Horace Parlan. Following my post last week on pianist Horace Parlan, saxophonist Bill Kirchner sent along a link to a 2017 post on Parlan by bassist Steve Wallace. Go here.

Chuck Israels on Tommy Williams, Stan Getz. Following my post last week on Art Farmer's 1961 Perception album, bassist Chuck Israels (above) sent along the following:

Hi Marc, just a little more information about the wonderful bassist Tommy Williams. Tommy, Jimmy Raney and Al Harewood were playing with Stan Getz sometime in the early '60s at New York's Basin Street East when Tommy quit and Stan called me.

Stan was beyond difficult—impossible, in fact, for most of us. Few people remained on good enough terms with him to continue working with him for long. The other two guys got fed up with Stan’s behavior and quit at the end of that gig. Stan wasn't big on sharing what he earned with his sidemen. I was between gigs with Bill Evans (Bill was trying out Gary Peacock), and Stan wanted me to put together a band for him. I brought in Gary Burton and Joe Hunt, and that band lasted a while until I went back to work for Bill.

That gig with Stan was the last time I heard Tommy play. I’d heard Tommy a few times with various Brooklyn musicians. Ronnie Mathews always spoke highly of him, and Tommy was among the handful of my very favorites. In many fields, there are often one or two outstanding people—people of great accomplishments who, for one reason or another, are largely overlooked. Tommy was surely one of those.

As for Stan, the biggest problem was his insurmountable insecurity and paranoia. Couple that with substance abuse and unrelenting womanizing, and they all made things difficult. It’s not easy to describe Stan’s behavior without going into fairly long stories, but one characteristic was his ability to sense other people’s weaknesses and attack them after having seduced them into letting down their guard. He’d show some neediness and pretense of vulnerability, and some (me, included) would fall for it, only to be mercilessly attacked later.

He also lacked any sense of decorum. President Johnson fell asleep at a table directly in front of the bandstand at a SEATO dinner in Bangkok, Thailand, in 1965, an event where we had been invited to play. Johnson was sitting with King Bhumibol Adulyadej and Queen Sirikit. The king was a saxophone player and had requested Stan.

Stan, drunk to stave off the pressure, was offended and insulted by Johnson's nap. Stan said, “OK Mr. President, now we’ll play something you’ll understand—a hoedown.” We played Oliver Nelson’s Hoedown—a perfectly good piece, but the damage was done. If Stan thought for a moment there was possibility you might be even slightly critical of him, he’d attack you first with devastating insults.

Benny Goodman was socially uncomfortable and strange but didn’t seem to be purposefully evil. Stan was. I know some who escaped his worst behavior—Roy Haynes, for example—but none who liked him.

Dublin. Oliver in Dublin sent along a photo of the city taken yesterday by Richard Green, a friend of his. Dublin is on lockdown to cap the city's surging number of Covid-19 cases. What should have been the weekend of the Cork Jazz Festival has been cancelled, along with everything else. Our hearts go out to the beautiful city and its people. And here's the normally bustling Grafton Street moments ago...

Chet Baker. Last week, following my post on YouTubers who dig Chet Baker, I heard from Artt Frank, who played with the trumpeter:

Hello, Marc. I first met Chet in 1954, at the height of his career. I wouldn't see him again for a few years because I had my own quartet. The next time I saw him in 1966, he wasn't able to play a single note. When I asked him what had happened, he said he had suffered a brutal beating at the hands of five hoodlums and lost four upper front teeth. He also had permanent trigeminal nerve damage to both sides of cheeks and jawline. He said he was told by two doctors that in all probability he'd never play again. I want to thank you and others for honoring his memory with the different young men
and women playing his favorite tunes. God bless you.

Dave Thompson, a wonderful pianist who plays in the Bill Evans style, sent along a SoundCloud of him playing The Touch of Your Lips....

Rudy Van Gelder. Richard Capless, an author, blogger (Deep Groove Mono) and college math instructor, has unveiled RVG Legacy, a lush, informational site devoted to Rudy Van Gelder, the late jazz engineer. To explore the site, go here. [Photo above of Rudy Van Gelder by Hank O'Neal]

Summer Stock (1950) is perhaps best known for Judy Garland's finale, singing and dancing Get Happy. But a far superior scene is Gene Kelly's newspaper dance number here...

Four Tops. Early on, many of Motown's acts sang Las Vegas standards when they went on the Ed Sullivan Show. Many were dreadful while others were quite good. Here, from the latter category, are the Four Tops in 1966 singing Nice 'n' Easy...

Chad Lefkowitz-Brown. Here's Chad LB playing Mack the Knife, which will be included on his eighth album, Quartet Sessions, due from La Reserve in February...

Laurel & Hardy. Last week, director Raymond De Felitta sent along a link to a terrific, silent Laurel & Hardy short from 1929. And, of course, we went back and forth on email about various things related to the film—how it was shot, the stunts and so on. By the way, that's James Finlayson in the scene outside the record store. First, watch it here...

According to Raymond, "an article online says that three stories of scaffolding were added to the Western Costume Building (go here) for the filming." More info here.

Raymond continues: "I’m not sure these are all the answers. There was no zoom lens yet, and a very long lens would have shaken in the wind. So not sure about the beam stuff. True ingenuity nonetheless. The proof is that 90 years later, we’re still sitting here trying to figure out how they did it!"

Clifford Brown radio. WKCR-FM in New York will present its annual "Clifford Brown Birthday Broadcast" next Friday, October 30, playing his music for 24 hours on the radio. Tune in from anywhere in the world on your computer, phone or iPad by going here.

Spencer Davis died on October 19. He was 81. His mid-'60s Brit band had a string of rock-soul hits in the U.S. and was notable for two things: He looked like he could have been Paul McCartney's older brother, if Paul had an older brother. And vocals were sung by Steve Winwood. Here's Gimme Some Lovin' in Germany in 1966...

Here's Keep on Running in 1965...

Billy Bauer: Having a Session

In the late 1950s, Irv Kratka began releasing albums that would change jazz. Not necessarily the music but the quality of playing by those who wanted to learn without taking lessons or just wanted to improve their chops. Known since 1950 as Music Minus One, the company founded by Kratka at first focused on classical, pop vocals and then Dixieland jazz. [Photo above of Billy Bauer]

By the late 1950s, modern jazz made it onto Music Minus One's roster. The label hired top jazz players such as George Duvivier, Elvin Jones, Stan Getz, Hal McCusick, Hank Jones and others and recorded them as backup players. The solo instrument was left out. That part was yours. The thinking was that with a club-level jazz group behind you, you'd have an easier time learning to swing and solo, and your confidence would grow. And it worked.

Music Minus One also created a revenue stream for the many jazz musicians who recorded on the albums. The paydays helped them earn a living, since jazz gigs and record dates often weren't sufficient to pay the bills. Muzak also served in this role—employing top jazz musicians to play easy-listening standards for bank lobbies, offices and supermarkets.

But before Kratka steered Music Minus One to the jazz market, guitarist Billy Bauer tried his hand at the concept. Following a career playing with Woody Herman, Lennie Tristano and Lee Konitz, Bauer played on a large number of studio dates for NBC TV and recording work behind hundreds of pop artists in the 1950s and beyond. [Photo above of Irv Kratka]

In 1953, Bauer recorded an album called Let's Have a Session. Recorded for Ad Lib, Bauer played rhythm guitar backed by Tony Aless (p) Arnold Fishkin (b) and Don Lamond (d). You were able to play along on virtually any instrument, though the album's cover urged you to "pick up your horn and blow."

Listening to the album 65 years later, the music is a nifty way to play with Bauer, Aless, Fishkin and Lamond. According to the 10-inch album's liner notes, all were television studio players at this point in time. The songs are Easy Walking Blues (in B-flat), Out of Nowhere (G), These Foolish Things (E-flat), Indiana (A-flat), Somebody Loves Me (F), September in the Rain (E-flat), Ghost of a Chance (C) and 'S Wonderful (E-flat).

But you don't have to be a fledgling musician. It's fun to hear what a top group would sound like if you were up there soloing. More important, it's weirdly fascinating to hear Bauer running chords on rhythm guitar and to listen to Aless play without the distraction of a big band. He was largely unheard on many of his jazz recordings as a studio sideman.

Billy Bauer died in 2005; Tony Aless died in 1988.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Billy Bauer's Let's Have a Session coupled with Bauer's terrific sole leadership date, Plectrist, on Fresh Sound here.

JazzWax clips: Here's Out of Nowhere...

Out of Nowhere

And here's September in the Rain...

September in the Rain

Horace Parlan: Movin' + Groovin'

By now, it's no secret that Bill Evans is my favorite jazz pianist. In the No. 2 slot would have to be Horace Parlan. Born in Pittsburgh, Parlan at a young age contracted polio, which left his right hand partly disabled and disfigured. Two of the fingers in his right hand were out of commission. As a result, his left hand did double duty, delivering heavy harmony and bass treatment while the three operating fingers of his right hand handled melody improvisation. Parlan relocated to Denmark in 1972. [Photo above of Horace Parlan by Francis Wolff (c) Mosaic Images]

Despite the diminished use of one hand's digits, Parlan became a superb and much-in-demand hard-bop keyboard accompanist and a magnificent trio leader and solo player. For those little familiar with Parlan, the best place to start is his first leadership album—Movin' and Groovin'. Recorded in February 1960 for Blue Note, Parlan's trio consisted of Parlan on piano, bassist Sam Jones and drummer Al Harewood.

As much as I love Red Garland, I give Parlan the edge when it comes to taste and volume of superb material over the course of his career. He had a lovely sense of swing, every one of his songs expressed a joy to be able to play, and his chord voicings were sensational. All he seemed to care about was knocking out listeners. There was no idling or padding. Parlan was a sculptor who kneaded and crafted every song he played into a singular expression.

The songs on this album are C Jam Blues, On Green Dolphin Street, Up in Cynthia's Room, Lady Bird, Bags', Groove, Stella by Starlight, There Is No Greater Love and It Could Happen to You. All are sensationally executed. Even songs you may feel you've heard enough of, like C Jam Blues and Bags' Groove, are re-invented by Parlan's groovy bluesy attack. [Photo above of Al Harewood by Francis Wolff (c) Mosaic Images]

Parlan began his recording career in 1957 with Charles Mingus and then moved on to Lou Donaldson in 1959 before recording Movin' and Groovin'. I came to Parlan in college after picking up Dexter Gordon's Doin' Allright (Blue Note) and hearing Society Red.

Parlan so knocked me out on there that I began collecting. Everything I purchased by Parlan had his ambitious playing style. Best of all are his stylistic fingerprints that pop up often. These include building tension with chords in his left hand while swinging notes with his right, releasing with cascading block chords. Or his ascending scales with three-finger modal riffs and his soul-jazz chords clustered together. [Photo above of Sam Jones]

I could spend the next 30 days writing about Parlan's excellent albums as a sideman and as a leader, but I wouldn't dare. There are too many others to write about. But do yourself a favor. Explore the pianist yourself. Movin' and Groovin' is a perfect gateway. And dig Jones and Harewood here. Jones thumps it out and Harewood is all over the snare. Perfect jazz is such a splendid thing. [Photo above of Horace Parlan]

Horace Parlan died in 2017.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Horace Parlan's Movin' and Groovin' here and here.

JazzWax clips: The following two tracks are absolute knockouts. See if you can sit still when Parlan is on a roll. I find it impossible:

Here's Lady Bird (crank this up; five minutes of a sterling trio in action)...

And here's Bags' Groove...

Art Farmer: Perception

Art Farmer had a way of playing the trumpet and flugelhorn that sounded as if he was singing while dancing. Farmer was less about blasts and taut nuance and more about a light, pretty touch. His horn had a classical elegance and a jazz tone that delighted the ear without being commercial. On ballads, you can hear the blues in almost everything he plays. On uptempo numbers, he's light and juicy, tapping along with ringing empathy, sailing the melody rather than commanding it. [Photo above of Art Farmer, courtesy of Concord Records]

A leadership album rich with Farmer's sensitivity is Perception. Recorded in October 1961 for Argo, the album featured Farmer on flugelhorn backed by Harold Mabern (p), Tommy Williams (b) and Roy McCurdy (d). The songs are Farmer's Punsu, The Day After, Lullaby of the Leaves, Farmer's Kayin', Tonk, The Blue Room, Change Partners and Nobody's Heart.

The album has two things going for it. For one, Farmer's flugelhorn is warm and relaxed throughout. For another, Mabern's piano is lush and intricate, providing Farmer's singular tone with plenty of rhythm and fascinating chords. And on songs like Change Partners, we get to hear a marvelously sensitive solo by Roy McCurdy, who would play with Gap and Chuck Mangione's Jazz Brothers in the early '60s and was the anchor in the Cannonball Adderley Quintet mid-decade.

Fledgling flugelhornists might want to put on Nobody's Heart and transcribe Farmer's solo. It's an enveloping exhibition of regal playing and gentle jazz.

Art Farmer died in 1999; Harold Mabern died in 2019.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Art Farmer's Perception here.

JazzWax note: Special thanks to Peter Levin, who passed along a link to an article on bassist Tommy Williams (go here).

JazzWax clips: Here's Punsu...

And here's Nobody's Heart...