Pookie's Pub was a mousey Manhattan club at Hudson and Dominick Streets in an area known since 1962 as SoHo—the area south of Houston Street and ending at Canal Street. Located at the base of a narrow, four-story brick building built in 1900, the venue in 1967 was on the moon, so to speak. Back then, as live electric rock and soul surged and thrived in Greenwich Village, live jazz by non-marquee groups was pushed to the far corners of the city where rents were more reasonable.
Pookie's was in an area that was deserted after dark and on the weekends. Way before the neighborhood became a trendy retail and residential haven starting in the early 1990s, most of the hulking buildings in West SoHo near the Hudson River were warehouses or cheap hotels and eateries servicing Manhattan's lengthy port system that ran roughly from 57th Street south to the island's tip. [Photo above, the former home of Pookie's Pub, taken in 1980]
Under the West Side Highway, which was elevated then, long piers became berths for all sorts of massive ships—from domestic and foreign passenger liners to global cargo ships heavy with goods from all over the world. Most of the streets in SoHo were cobblestone, not asphalt. The area was so lightly trafficked that the city didn't bother with the expense of modern paving there in the 1960s. [Photo above of New York's Transatlantic Steamship Terminal on the Hudson River between 44th and 54th Streets, circa 1960]
I remember my parents would drive all the way down the West Side Highway in the mid-1960s en-route to a meal in Chinatown. I marveled at the massive ships, one after the next, sporting colorful flags from all over the world. A great day is when one of those ships let off a blast of its horn
According to the Concert Database, drummer Elvin Jones performed at Pookie's almost nightly for six months—from June 6 until Christmas Eve of 1967—fronting a quintet or quartet, depending on who dropped by to play. Over the group's lengthy run, that fifth member included baritone saxophonist Pepper Adams, pianist McCoy Tyner and Elvin's brother, Thad Jones.
The core of the group featured Elvin Jones on drums, Joe Farrell on tenor saxophone and flute, Billy Greene on piano and Wilbur Little on bass. For three nights—July 28, 29 and 30‚ in 1967—Bob Falesch recorded the music played there by Jones's group. And thank goodness he did, for we now have the results on a new spectacular release, Elvin Jones: Revival, Live at Pookie's Pub (Blue Note).
Co-produced by Zev Feldman and Ashley Kahn, the album features a tight group finding its place in jazz just 11 days after John Coltrane's death on July 17. In this set, we have documentation of what turns out to be one of the most exciting and dynamic quartets of the late 1960s. More important, it's the only recording of this group, making this album one of the greatest finds of the year (though I hear Zev has more astonishing finds up his sleeve this year; more on this in a week or so).
Interestingly, the Jones album is loaded with surprises. Here are four:
If you were uncertain about Jones's position in the pecking order of jazz drummers, you'll come away from this album with a clear fix on why he's considered among the very best. His accompaniment ranges from snarling brushes on Softly as in a Morning Sunrise and straight-ahead playing on My Funny Valentine to a driving gallop on Jimmy Heath's Gingerbread Boy and thrashing polyrhythmic eruptions on Joe Farrell's Avenue "B." As you'll hear, Jones was at the top of his game at Pookie's—free, in charge and pushing to get the very best out of his players. How many people were there on any given night is unclear, though a 1968 New Yorker profile by Whitney Balliett of Jones touches on the long gig (go here)
As magical as Jones was, this album in many ways belongs to Joe Farrell. Unless you're a drummer or a listener who can discern the nuances and rhythmic expressions of jazz drumming, you're more likely to respond to Farrell's staggering tenor saxophone and flute. On Jones's Keiko's Birthday March,Gingerbread Boy and Sonny Rollins's Oleo, Farrell is on fire. On Billy Greene's M.E. and On the Trail (from Ferde Grofé's Grand Canyon Suite), Farrell swings out lyrically. His flute playing on My Funny Valentine and Softly is precious and beautiful.
Larry Young, known mostly for his progressive organ playing, is found here on piano on Gingerbread Boy, handling the keyboard as he would a Hammond.
And then there is pianist Billy Greene. Prior to this recording, Greene could only be found on Elvin Jones's Heavy Sounds from 1968. Today, he is a mystery to the jazz world, and it's unclear how he came up or what happened to him after 1968. So in effect, this release sheds enormous light on his playing, which was exceptional.
This is listening music, meaning it commands that you are attentive to what's going on and savor the exceptional quality of the artistry in solos and in collaboration. You also need to listen to this album in full at least four times in a row before the import of what you're hearing becomes fully evident. After giving Revival multiple listens, I was amazed that nothing existed previously from Jones's long run at Pookie's or that this group went unrecorded. Given the shake out among the jazz divisions in the record industry by 1967, it's no wonder. Many of the smartest minds were redeployed to find artists and groups that played electronic instruments.
Hearing the music now for the first time, I couldn't help but wonder whether more recordings were made at Pookie's and are sitting in someone's basement. Jones's run was too lengthy and the music too good not to have been recorded at other points. For now, we'll have to be grateful to Zev and Ashley, whose detective work and liner notes are exceptional and indispensable.
After reading all of the booklet's liner notes, I find it mind-blowing that Zev spent 10 years trying to get this landmark material issued. Seems its importance would be obvious. Chalk another one up for Zev and three cheers for Blue Note.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Elvin Jones: Revival - Live at Pookies Pub (Blue Note) here.
Freddie Green, Count Basie's long-time rhythm guitarist, recorded just one album as a leader—Mr. Rhythm, for RCA in December 1955. Green's tenure with Basie date back to March 1937.
On Mr. Rhythm, Green assembled an all-star group that was arranged like a pocket version of Basie's band, complete with Nat Pierce on piano: Joe Newman (tp), Henry Coker (tb), Al Cohn (ts-3,cl,bass-cl-1,arr), Nat Pierce (p), Freddie Green (g), Milt Hinton (b), Jo Jones (d), Osie Johnson (d-2) replaces Jones, and Manny Albam and Ernie Wilkins (arr).
Here are the tracks in order, with corresponding players and arrangers above:
Up in the Blues (ac arr,2,3)
Down for Double (ac arr)
Back and Forth (ew arr,2,3)
Free and Easy (ma arr,2,3)
Learnin' the Blues (ma arr)
Feed Bag (ma arr,2,3)
Something's Gotta Give (ac arr,1)
Easy Does It (ma arr)
Little Red (ew arr,2,3)
Swingin' Back (ew arr)
A Date With Ray (ew arr,1)
When You Wish Upon a Star (ew arr,1)
Here's the complete Mr. Rhythm without ad interruptions...
My cool cousin, Mark, won't believe it when he reads this, but the first 45s I saw spinning on a turntable as a kid were in his bedroom in the mid-1960s. Several times a year, my parents would drive three hours from Manhattan to Margate, N.J., a quiet suburb of Atlantic City, so my father could visit his sister, Mary. [Photo above of Mark in the mid-1960s standing in the short driveway of his parents' beachfront house in Margate, N.J.]
Whenever we arrived and before my father could start arguing with my Uncle Al, my uncle slipped my younger brother and me $10 each and off we went in his yellow Cadillac on a junk-food crawl kids could only dream about. My uncle always wore sunglasses, dressed like a gambler, loved Spandex and sported a Palm Springs tan, even in the winter. We'd stop first at the White House sub shop (which is still there!), followed by an old-school pizza restaurant, a foot-long hot-dog stand, an ice cream parlor and more. A blur of nitrate-filled dishes and cavity-producing desserts that not only knocked dinner out of play but breakfast and lunch the next day. [Photo above, from left, of my Aunt Mary, Mark, my father and Uncle Al on their patio in Margate at the dawn of the 1960s]
When the three of us returned to the house, Mark always had something hip playing behind his nearly closed door. Pushing my way in before Mark would head out (he was older and already could drive or had friends who did), he'd play me these amazing singles of vocal harmony groups. [Photo above from left of my Aunt Mary, my father and my mother]
Mark knows his doo-wop—groups, names of singers, labels, the color of labels, who sang what, and so on. For Mark, the sounds of these groups remain a powerful reminder of his idyllic youth, when an expanse of sand and pounding surf were a mere jump off his patio. To me, he was living the California dream, only on the bleached-white streets of Margate.
Mark and I email all the time now. A few weeks back, I asked if he'd choose a bunch of favorite sleeper harmony-group sides, just like he did 55 years ago in his room. He happily obliged. While I can't take you on Uncle Al's famous junk-food death march, I can play you the music I heard when I came back, swearing never to eat that stuff again.
Here are Mark's picks along with his insights (I'm already craving a White House sub). Mark will pick it up from here:
The Coasters—Zing! Went the Strings of My Heart (1958). A high point of Atlantic group harmony. Not the usual Coasters novelty songs such as Yakety Yak but perfect harmony and a killer sax break by King Curtis. Check out the stereo version. Go here...
The Impressions—At the County Fair (1958). This group is, of course, better known more for their 1960s soul songs. This isn’t one of them. Not only is Curtis Mayfield more than present here, but Jerry Butler is, too. Go here...
The "5" Royales—Baby, Don't Do It (1953). Almost any song by this unheralded group from Winston-Salem, N.C. carries the day, but this one, with the Charlie Ferguson Orchestra and his saxophone, is a great place to start. Innovative guitarist Lowman Pauling, raspy bluesy lead singer Johnny Tanner and the guys had a long run, from the early 1950s to the mid-1960s. No wonder they were James Brown's opening act. This one has a close connection to Brown's Please Please Please.Go here...
The Sheppards—Never Felt This Way Before (1959). The Sheppards were from Chicago. Their semi-hit was Island of Love, but the B-side, Never Felt This Way Before, is better. Go here...
The Mellows—Smoke From Your Cigarette (1955). The Mellows were a New York group, with lead singer Lillian Leach here vocalizing sadly and seductively. Go here...
The Penguins—Baby Let's Make Some Love (1955). This Los Angeles group was best known for a bunch of songs that included their big hit Earth Angel as well as Hey Senorita. But most of them pale in comparison to Baby Let’s Make Some Love. Go here...
Arthur Lee Maye and the Crowns—Cool Lovin' (1956). The Crowns were another great Los Angeles group. Lee’s day job was playing Major League baseball for the World Champion Milwaukee Braves. During the off-season, he was a lead singer. The Crowns' unsung song is Cool Lovin’. Go here...
Speaking of the Crowns, Maye's version of Gloria may be the best. Go here...
Vernon Green and the Medallions—Buick 59 (1954). Yet another Los Angeles group with a few hits and a lot of car songs. The best is Buick 59, complete with vocal V-8 acceleration. Go here...
The Orchids—You Have Two (I Have None) (1955). This Chicago group had only eight sides or so. A must-listen is You Have Two (I Have None), with its slow stroll. Go here...
Earl Lewis & the Channels—Stars in the Sky (1956). This New York group's big hit was The Closer You Are, but that worn song isn't nearly as fresh as Stars in the Sky, with a superb tenor sax solo on the break. Go here...
Or dig the Channels' Bye Bye Baby (1959) with that bouncing bass and solid sax solo. Go here...
The Charts—Zoop (1957). This New York group's popular side Deserie is more than OK, but Zoop is more emblematic of what group harmony was all about then. Go here...
The Nutmegs—Ship of Love (1955). This group hailed from New Haven, Ct., and were best known for Story Untold, but Ship of Love still rules for me. Go here...
The Pastels—Been So Long (1957). The Pastels began as soldiers stationed at a U.S. Air Force base in Narsarssuak, Greenland. Their first live appearances were part of military showcases before they were transferred to Washington, D.C. This hit reached #5 on Billboard's R&B chart before crossing over to the pop chart at #24. Go here...
The Rainbows—They Say (1956). This Washington, D.C., group was actually the second incarnation of the Rainbows, which originally broke up in the mid-1950s after lead singer Henry Womble left for boarding school. The new Rainbows recorded this one in 1956 for George Goldner's Rama Records. Go here...
William Bell—Any Other Way (1962). Bell remains an underappreciated R&B and soul singer-songwriter. He recorded for Stax but never got the acclaim he deserved. I had to add him for the singular sound of his voice. Go here...
Chances are you're unfamiliar with Caity Gyorgy (pronounced George). But if you do know her work, you're probably already convinced she's on her way to becoming a household name. Caity is a wise and savvy 24-year-old who sings in a style years beyond her age. In fact, when I first heard her a couple of months ago, I thought she had been singing jazz since the 1950s or was the great-granddaughter of Annie Ross. [Photo above of Caity Gyorgy by Teddy Kadonoff]
Then I was bowled over to learn that all of the songs except two on her newly released album, Featuring, were written by Caity—words and music. And the arrangements. These aren't trite tunes about the moon or a summer breeze. They are seriously sophisticated, true jazz songs that have all the hallmarks of becoming standards. When you add her confident fluid voice, you realize that Caity's many musical talents and high taste level truly are remarkable.
To hear what I mean, let's listen to the opening track of her new album. Here's her song I Feel Foolish...
As you can hear, her trio is exceptional as well: Felix Fox-Pappas on piano, Thomas Hainbuch on bass and Jacob Wutzke on drums, with Daniel Barta on alto saxophone.
The album's guests include Kyle Pogline on trumpet; Virginia MacDonald on clarinet; Allison Au, Daniel Barta, Christine Jensen and Tymish Koznarsky on alto saxophone; Lucas Dubovik, Pat LaBarbera and Kyle Tarder-Stoll on tenor saxophone; Jocelyn Gould on guitar; and vocalist Laura Anglade added on The Feeling Is Mutual. [Photo above of Caity Gyorgy by Cynthia Fay]
Here's the album's track list and soloists:
1. I Feel Foolish (feat. Daniel Barta) 2. Cover Up (feat. Christine Jensen) 3. It Might As Well Be Spring (feat. Kyle Pogline) (Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II) 4. Start Again (feat. Jocelyn Gould) 5. A Moment (feat. Allison Au) 6. Look the Other Way (feat. Lucas Dubovik) 7. I Miss Missing You (feat. Jocelyn Gould) 8. ‘Tis Autumn (feat. Pat LaBarbera) (Henry Nemo) 9. My Cardiologist (feat. Kyle Tarder-Stoll) 10. Ideal (feat. Virginia MacDonald) 11. I Never Knew (feat. Tymish Koznarsky) 12. The Feeling Is Mutual (feat. Laura Anglade) 13. It’s Pronounced George (feat. Christine Jensen, Virginia MacDonald)
Recently, I caught up with Caity by email. She just finished her masters degree in May, which tells me we can now expect the full thrust of her productivity and ambitions. Stand back. She also won Canada's 2022 JUNO for best vocal album. Here's our e-conversation:
JazzWax: Where in Calgary, Alberta, did you spend your childhood? Caity Gyorgy: I grew up in two different suburbs of Calgary. After my parents’ divorce when I was 10, my younger brother and I spent alternating weeks at the homes of my dad and mum. My maternal grandmother was born in England and moved to Canada as a child after World War II, when her dad, an Anglican minister, set up a parish in Ottawa. My maternal grandfather’s family also emigrated from England, and he was the first in his family to be born in Canada. [Photo above of Caity Gyorgy]
JW: So your last name comes from your father’s side? CG: Yes. My paternal grandad also was the first in his family born in Canada. His family had come over in the 1930s from Hungary. They emigrated so that my great-grandfather could work in the coal mines in a Hungarian community in Alberta. My paternal grandmother’s family has been in North America for many generations. Many of her people were farmers and homesteaders, so it’s likely they came over from the U.K. with the promise of farmland and building a new life.
JW: Calgary is a big city but informed by mountains, cattle and oil. What shaped you growing up? CG: Now that I’ve spent a lot of time in Toronto, in the eastern part of Canada, I realize how different it was to have grown up in the west. In Calgary, I often skied in the mountains and never realized how lucky I was. The biggest presence the oil industry had on my life was as a game. I’d count the number of operating pumpjacks on road trips. As for Calgary’s cattle, let’s just say I don’t eat beef in eastern Canada. It’s not the same.
JW: Did your parents’ divorce make you more introverted and more likely to explore your inner talents? CG: Their separation was hard on me because I was old enough to know what was going on. I also knew that their parting was likely irreversible. My brother is four years younger than me, so it didn’t shape him as much. I’m lucky I had him. For many years, we were each other’s only constant as we moved from house to house each week. We’re still very close. As for turning inward, I think that happened many years later. [Photo above of Caity Gyorgy by Teddy Kadonoff]
JW: How did you deal with the household turmoil you experienced? CG: For over a decade, I blocked out a lot of what happened. But a few years ago, I started drawing upon those experiences to make music. My song There By the Door is dedicated to my childhood home, which was sold after my parents split up. I had never cried while writing music, but I cried when I composed that one.
JW: You took piano lessons when you were 9 or 10. Did you take voice lessons as well? CG: I took piano lessons, but I didn’t take them seriously. I took piano and voice from the same teacher, dividing my 60-minute lesson in half. Soon, singing became such a passion that it began chewing into my piano time. My earliest experience with jazz was probably listening to the Vince Guaraldi Trio’s Charlie Brown Christmas album every year. It was and still is one of my favorite records. My dad would play it as soon as December 1st rolled around. [Photo above of Caity Gyorgy by Teddy Kadonoff]
JW: How did you come to jazz? CG: When I was 17. I started dating a jazz drummer and wanted to have more to talk about on our dates. So I took him to my favorite record store on one of our first dates. While I was looking through the soul section and running my fingers though albums by Otis Redding, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas, Etta James and Sam Cooke, he was digging through the jazz section. He picked out a reissue of Miles Davis’s Birth of the Cool and urged me to buy it.
JW: Did you? CG: The 180-gram record was $45, which was a lot for a 17-year-old high school student who worked part time for minimum wage at a home decor store. But I did. I went home, listened and didn’t understand a single thing about it. Now, of course, the album is one of my favorites. As for jazz vocalists, I was introduced to the form at a Starbucks, thanks to a compilation that included Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan, Dinah Washington, Billie Holiday, and Abbey Lincoln. I’ve loved the music ever since.
JW: And the jazz drummer? CG: I’m still dating him.
JW: Were your teenage years in high school tough? CG: My high school experience was actually pretty wonderful. I think within my circles, I was fairly popular, so high school wasn’t oppressive. I took a lot of choir classes. Each week, I had around 10½ hours of choir rehearsal and three hours of music theory. I was in the chamber choir, concert choir and vocal jazz choir. I also really enjoyed my other courses. Chemistry and math were highlights. [Photo above of Caity Gyorgy by Teddy Kadonoff]
JW: When did your jazz vocal conversion take place? CG: During my last year of high school. During that year, I bought two vocal "real" books and started learning the repertoire from A to Z. I was listening to a lot of singers, going down YouTube “rabbit holes,” memorizing Ella and Sarah scat solos, and trying a bit of scatting myself. I had also started going to jams and getting to know people in my local jazz scene. In my last year of high school, I began to focus on building my repertoire and gigging. I was also preparing to attend college in Toronto.
JW: Where did you attend college? CG: At Humber College. It was an incredible experience for me. Humber gave me the tools and experience I needed to become a professional. I took arranging courses in my third and fourth year and I tried to arrange on my own using my ears and a keyboard. I was lucky to have great professors who gave helpful feedback. I studied small-ensemble arranging with Andy Ballantyne and large-ensemble arranging with John McLeod. Now, when I arrange my own music, I usually hear the arrangement as I write my songs and use the piano to help me get my ideas out. However, this can be a bit tricky because my ears are lightyears ahead of my piano chops.
JW: Is this how it has worked for all of your songs? CG: Yes, almost every one of them has been written in one sitting and in less than 20 minutes. When inspiration strikes, it really strikes me hard. I like to utilize certain tools like the Voice Memo feature on my phone, so that if I’m out and about and I have an idea, I can quickly sing it into my phone and pick up on it later when I have a piano in front of me. I also use the Notes app on my iPhone to write down certain words or phrases that intrigue me or a concept to expand upon later. I love writing. I wish I had more time to devote to it. I also need to work on my piano skills so that I’ll have an easier time taking my music where I want it to go. I can hear what I want to do, but finding the right voicing is challenging. [Photo above of Caity Gyorgy]
JW: Regrets? CG: Yeah, maybe I should have been more strict about devoting the full 30 minutes to the piano during my lessons. Ha!
JW: Which composers have been most influential in terms of your songwriting? CG: By the time I arrived at Humber College, I had learned over 200 standards. To this day, I keep listening and adding to that number. I am such a fan of the lyricism of Dorothy Fields. I find her writing to be very clever. She favors interesting and intriguing rhymes, witty subject matter, sarcasm, a deep understanding of emotion and a ridiculously accurate way of putting it all to pen. I love the compositions of Jerome Kern, Cole Porter and Richard Rodgers. I think my obsession with learning standards helped me write my own songs, sometimes very late at night. The construction of standards rubs off. I’m a night owl, and my most productive hours are between 7 and 11:30 p.m., sometimes extending to 2 a.m.
JW: Vocalese seems to come naturally to you. You’re very loose and free and have a true understanding of the genre. What’s the toughest part about singing fast-paced story songs? CG: I think vocalese might come naturally to me because of the hours I’ve spent transcribing and learning the language of the music. I’ve lifted hundreds of instrumental solos, which have given me a greater understanding of harmony, melody and rhythm. Once I have my story, I try to tell it using notes that someone like Sonny Stitt or Clifford Brown would have used. For me, writing a vocalese is a lot easier than writing a tune because the vocalese doesn’t necessarily have to follow the same rhythm and melody in each section of the song. There’s so much freedom.
JW: You went on to complete a masters at McGill University, yes? CG: Yes, I finished in May. This is the first time in my life that I haven’t been in school and I love it. I’ve been focusing a lot on releasing my new album, Featuring, recording other albums, and writing and arranging for upcoming shows and projects. I'm devoting so much of my time to developing myself as an artist, musician, composer, arranger and lyricist. I feel very lucky to be living my life this way.
JW: Explain your new album’s title. Why Featuring? CG: I chose the title because each track on the album features a special guest soloist. I was very fortunate to be able to include so many wonderful musicians on this project. These people are friends, mentors and teachers. I’m a huge fan of every one of them.
JW: Tell me about them. CG: Most I met in Toronto, but a couple I met in Montreal. I was fortunate to study with Christine Jensen while at McGill in Montreal and she helped me a lot through the process of creating the album. I also was fortunate to be taught by Pat LaBarbera while at Humber. I was in his ensemble, one of the best groups to be a part of. I loved the repertoire and I appreciated how generous Pat was and still is with his knowledge of the music. I feel privileged to have gotten to hear stories about some of the musicians he worked with, or some of the venues and situations he played in. It was incredibly inspirational.
JW: And the others? CG: Many of the others like Virginia MacDonald, Allison Au, and Jocelyn Gould I met at Humber. Allison went to Humber so I had worked with her in bands led by others at Humber. Virginia was at Humber while I was there but I didn’t really get to know her very well until we were in Pat’s ensemble. Jocelyn started teaching at Humber when I was in my fourth year. I reached out to her to do some recording and playing.
JW: Where did you meet the others? CG: With Kyle Tarder-Stoll, Kyle Pogline, Tymish Koznarsky, Lucas Dubovik, Daniel Barta, Thomas Hainbuch, and Felix Fox-Pappas, I met them all in college and I consider them all great friends. I first met my friend Laura Anglade online during the pandemic. We did a virtual collaboration. She's amazing and inspiring. Jacob Wutzke is the drummer, and I’ve known him for more than 7 years. We met in Calgary.
JW: Which song on the new album is most personal? CG:I Miss Missing You. I don’t tend to open up about specific personal topics in my writing. I try to write more generally so that others may relate. But I Miss Missing You is about one specific person. I’ve been in a long-term relationship for over seven years and at one point, we had a long-distance relationship for about eight months.
JW: How did you handle that? CG: We did the cutesy letter-writing back and forth thing and talked on the phone every day. I still think about the situation fondly. I remember panicking when picking him up at the airport after not seeing him for months and thinking, "Is he really the same person I’ve been talking to on the phone?" I think it’s nice to miss someone when you know there’s an end to a separation period. I don’t get chances to miss him anymore because we’re often together and he plays in my band. So I wrote a song romanticizing the elements of our once long-distance relationship.
JW: And? CG: And romanticizing about the last few moments before we dropped the “long distance” part of our relationship.
JazzWax tracks: You'll find Caity Gyorgy's Featuringhere or here.
JazzWax clips:Here's Caity's Ideal (words, music and arrangement)...
Here's Caity in the studio last year singing her song, My Cardiologist...
Here's Caity scatting to Sonny Stitt's solo on Alone Together, from 1956...
And here's Caity in action at the JUNOfest Jazz Showcase...
Gal Costa, one of Brazil's most respected and beloved singers and recording artists admired as much for her courage as her performing charm, vocal range and vast knowledge of standards and obscure songs, died on November 9. She was 77.
Costa's singing and guitar-playing career began in August of 1964, during a period of enormous musical celebration and political upheaval. At the time, Brazil's Rio De Janeiro was the center of a global music phenomenon known as the bossa nova. What had begun as a hushed and romantic music style in 1958 had exploded globally as nearly all forms of pop music adapted its beat and covered its songs by Brazilian composers who overnight had become household names.
But late August of 1964 was also a period of enormous dread and sorrow in Brazil. A military coup had taken place in Brazil months earlier, in the spring, when the Brazilian Armed Forces overthrew the country's elected government. The coup was encouraged and supported by the U.S., which in the years following Fidel Castro's overthrow of Cuba in 1959 feared a Communist wave in South American countries where leftest governments were in power and economies were sagging.
In Brazil, citizens were detained, freedoms were curtailed and music that encouraged rebellion was banned. Nevertheless, Costa challenged the regime by recording the songs of artists who were exiled by the government, including Gilberto Gil and Caetano Veloso. Other Brazilian composers, musicians and singers who could work abroad remained there, including Antonio Carlos Jobim, Sergio Mendes, Eumir Deodato, Airto, Flora Purim and others.
Costa remained in Brazil and helped champion tropicália, a movement that blended Brazilian samba and African rhythms with elements of British and American psychedelic pop and rock. By 1968, tropicália had fizzled but gave rise to a new post-tropicália style.
In Brazil, there's no greater contribution to society than to be a popular composer or performer. The joy that radiates from the artist to the audience and back is unlike anywhere else in the world. And when such honored artists as Gal Costa pass away, a piece of that culture passes too, which is why the impact is felt so deeply. Costa's joyous music helped define the Brazilian people and their rich culture.
Here are 10 of my favorite Gal Costa clips plus a bonus:
Here's Costa and Jorge Ben in 1982 singing Que Pena...
Here's Costa in the late 1980s singing Meu nome é Gal...
Here's Costa with Roberto Carlos in 1997 singing Sua Estupidez...
Here's Costa in 1999 performing a tribute concert to Antonio Carlos Jobim singing Desafinado...
Here's Costa at the same concert singing A Felicidade...
Here's Costa singing Wave from the same concert...
And here's one of my favorite clips, featuring Costa with Marília Mendonça, a rising Brazilian star when this was recorded in 2018 and the "queen" of sofrência and sertanejo, a music form celebrating female empowerment. A year ago, in November 2021, Mendonça died in an crash when her air taxi went down in Brazil with four others en route to perform a concert. She was 26...
Bonus:Here's a half hour of Costa with Antonio Carlos Jobim in Los Angles in 1987...
In The Wall Street Journal this week, I interviewed Gil Birmingham for my "House Call' column in the Mansion section (go here). Gil stars in so many great TV series and movies, most recently Yellowstone, Under the Banner of Heaven and Pieces of Her. As a child, Gil didn't get along with his parents. At age 14, he asked California to make him a ward of the state so he could live apart from them. His artistic streak at home kept banging up against his parents' rigidity and strict household rules. Yet he managed to pull himself up from zero to become one of today's leading series actors. [Photo above of Gil Birmingham in Bonner, Mont., in August, by Giovana Schluter Nunes, courtesy of Paramount Network]
Here's Gil in the Season 5 trailer for Yellowstone...
Please order now. My new book, Anatomy of 55 More Songs, is out on December 6. Please order a copy for yourself and as a gift for friends. The first volume, Anatomy of a Song, was a 2016 Amazon bestseller, and this followup is longer and even better. Even I was blown away once I assembled and wrote introductions to each entry. Go here.
Here are just 10 of the 55 songs that feature the songwriters, producers and musicians talking about how the hits came together:
Bernie Taupin on Rocket Man
Michael McDonald on What a Fool Believes
Donald Fagen on Peg
Allie Willis, lyricist, on Earth, Wind & Fire's September
Blondie on Rapture
Joe Jackson on Steppin' Out
Talking Heads on Burning Down the House
Steve Miller on Fly Like an Eagle
Tommy James on Crystal Blue Persuasion
Burt Bacharach and Dionne Warwick on Walk On By
And while you're at it, please order my book Rock Concert: An Oral History. Moves fast as the story unfolds. Go here.
Catch the astonishing Eliane Elias on tour with bassist Marc Johnson, guitarist Rubens de La Corte and drummer Rafael Barata. Eliane is absolutely electrifying live. They're on tour showcasing Elaine's fabulous new album, Quietude. You can read my WSJ review of the album here. Here's the magnificent and gracious Eliane with her band performing days ago in Rochester, N.Y. I saw her at New York's Iridium on her first night of the tour and she had the place on their feet, roaring for more...
Duke Ellington, Johnny Dankworth and Humphrey Lyttelton in conversation on the BBC in 1958? Carl Woideck sent this special video last week...
Interviews by Leigh Kamman (1922-2014) have been posted online. Bassist Don Messina sent along a link to the landing page where you'll find links to individual audio interviews by late broadcaster Leigh Kamman. Among the dozens of interview subjects are Bill Evans, Oscar Pettiford, Pat Martino, Horace Silver, Jackie and Roy, and many more. Go here.
Catherine Russell. Carl Woideck also sent along a link to a home movie of a 4-year-old Catherine Russell and the singer's father, the pianist, bandleader and composer-arranger Luis Russell, visiting with Louis Armstrong. Go here...
And finally,here's Oliver Nelson in 1970 conducting the Berlin Dream Band in Berlin and playing alto saxophone on Black, Brown and Beautiful, the title track from an album he had just released...
Sammy Nestico arranged nine Count Basie studio albums, starting in 1969:
Straight Ahead (1969)
Standing Ovation (1969)
Good Time Blues (1970)
Have a Nice Day (1971)
Bing 'n' Basie (1972)
Basie Big Band (1975)
Prime Time (1977)
Warm Breeze (1981)
88 Basie Street (1983)
One of his breeziest was Have a Nice Day (Daybreak). As with all of Sammy's Basie albums, Have a Nice Day was a finger-snapper packed with catchy mid-tempo swingers.
The band featured Paul Cohen, Sonny Cohn, George "Pete" Minger and Waymon Reed (tp,flh); Al Grey, Melvin Wanzo, Grover Mitchell and John Watson (tb); Bill Hughes (btb); Bobby Plater (as,fl); Curtis Peagler (as); Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis (ts); Eric Dixon (ts,fl); John C. Williams (bar); Count Basie (p); Freddie Green (g); Norman Keenan (b) and Harold Jones (d). [Photo above of Count Basie and Sammy Nestico]
Vocalist Diana Panton has been recording since 2005, when she released ...Yesterday Perhaps. What I love about her voice is its transparency. Through her vocals, I can hear exactly what she is feeling. She takes the lyrics she sings seriously, largely because she chooses songs carefully, using her emotions and artistic taste as a guide. [Album cover above by Jose Crespo]
Her new and 10th album is Blue, and she's joined by a masterful group: pianist-arranger Don Thompson, guitarist Reg Schwager and bassist Jim Vivian plus saxophonist Phil Dwyer and the poetic Penderecki Quartet, a world-renowned chamber ensemble.
I've known Diana for years and often communicate with her on Facebook or via email. She's precious, as you'll soon discover when you listen to her new album. The following interview was supposed to post when her album was released on October 28, but I held off until JazzWax's embedding functionality was restored. It's back now, so here's Diana, a two-time JUNO Award winner:
JazzWax: Where did you grow up? Diana Panton: I was born and raised in Hamilton, Ontario, in Canada. There are no musicians in my immediate family, but my dad loved listening to classical music. The stereo system was his domain, so I heard what he played, usually Bach, Beethoven and Mozart. When I was a teenager, I purchased my first cassette tapes to be played in my room and far from my dad's ears. My little tape player had a gearshift mechanism to activate play, stop, fast-forward or rewind. [Photo above of Diana Panton by Jo Dickins]
JW: What sort of music was on those tapes? DP: An eclectic mix of albums by Aretha Franklin, the Grateful Dead and the Rolling Stones. I purchased them from a local second-hand shop and didn’t really have much of an idea of what I was buying. I especially dug Aretha as a singer and listened to her cassette a lot.
JW: Dad just listened to classical? DP: That’s the thing. One evening, he pulled out some jazz albums hidden behind a sliding door in the living room. They were 10-inch LPs he had brought with him to Canada from Scotland. He was born and raised in Glasgow. Turns out dad had been quite the jazz lover in his younger days. [Photo above of Diana Panton by Jo Dickins]
JW: What did he put on the stereo? DP: Previously, he had never played these records for me. That night he put on an Ella Fitzgerald record and I was immediately hooked. The funny thing is once this door to the past was opened, all we listened to in the house from that point forward was jazz. After I devoured my dad's collection of Ella, Frank Sinatra, Miles Davis and the Modern Jazz Quartet, I went scavenging at the local library, where I discovered Sarah Vaughan, Billie Holiday, Dinah Washington, Lester Young and John Coltrane, among others. While high school friends were listening to classic rock and Top-40 pop, I was absorbing all the jazz I could find.
JW: Were you outgoing or introverted as a child? DP: I would say both. My parents told me I was highly articulate at a young age. They’d take me to gatherings and let me roam freely making conversation with adults, which they found quite a novelty. That was the outgoing me. I also loved to work for hours alone on huge collages that took up most of our dining-room table. Hours would go by and, sometimes, I’d fall asleep there face down on my latest masterpiece.
JW: And singing? DP: Singing started quite early as well. Singing became a personal soundtrack to my daily activities. My mom said she could always tell when I wasn’t feeling well if I wasn't singing. By age 6, I’d make up songs walking home alone from school. These were usually spontaneous, melancholic creations about nature, with lines such as “Where will the animals live if humans build everywhere?” Sometimes I’d be teary-eyed by the time I arrived home. When Mom asked what was wrong, I'd tell her I was just singing. Singing has always been a catharsis for me. Growing up, it was something I did on my own as a personal expression, never to entertain. [Photo above of Diana Panton by Frank De Blase]
JW: When did that change? DP: When I was 13, on a dare, I auditioned and landed the part of Maria in a children's production of The Sound of Music. An opera singer who had attended the show sent me a dozen roses and a note insisting I stop this type of performance—singing in front of more than 700 people without a microphone—and find a vocal teacher.
JW: Did that sting? DP: Not at all. It came from a good place, reinforced by the roses. So, I tried to find a vocal instructor without success. Most said I was too young, or they lived too far away. We didn't have a family car at the time.
JW: What did you do? DP: A few years later, while on a high school music trip to Chicago with the school orchestra—I played violin—I was singing to myself down a quiet corridor when someone heard me. The woman flipped over my voice and asked where I was from. Would you believe she knew a singing teacher in my home town who lived a five-minute walk from my house?
JW: Problem solved? DP: Not quite. That teacher's roster was full, but since I lived so close, she called when there were cancellations. I also took care of her elderly mother to help finance my lessons. So that’s how I began taking classical singing in my late teens. [Photo above of Diana Panton by Jose Crespo]
JW: And jazz? DP: Around the same time, I tried out for a local community jazz group and was one of two vocalists selected. I continued to sing Count Basie and Quincy Jones charts with the community big band for about a decade. At college, I studied French literature. Although I consider myself largely a self-taught jazz singer, I attended jazz workshops, such as one at the Banff Centre for the Arts with jazz singer Sheila Jordan, who became a mentor. We’re still in touch. The first time she heard me sing, she said I reminded her of a young June Christy. She encouraged me to keep doing what I was doing. Sheila continues to tour into her 90s and is still a big inspiration.
JW: What was your first paying job as a singer? DP: It was a duo with a guitarist at a local pub. I can’t say it was my favorite performing experience. The club owner seemed quite impressed by the audience turnout, but there were lots of distractions and surface noise. I've done only a handful of club dates since and prefer quieter venues.
JW: How did you meet Don Thompson (above), the exquisite jazz pianist, vibraphonist, bassist, composer and arranger? DP: We first met when my youth big band opened a show in which he performed as a member of the headlining group. He found me backstage after and suggested I attend the Banff workshop where he was an instructor. While at Banff, I performed at the famed Blue Room with Don. Following our set, Don invited me to call him when I was ready to record. I couldn't believe it. I didn't follow up on his invitation until a decade later.
JW: What happened? DP: I called him out of the blue but wasn't sure if he’d remember me. Fortunately, he did. He asked me to put together a list of songs I wanted to record. I came up with 20. We met for a rehearsal to work out the keys. Next came the studio date, where I met guitarist Reg Schwager for the first time. We got right to it. The album, …Yesterday Perhaps (2005), was recorded in two days. Most of the songs were done in two takes with no rehearsal as a trio. It felt as if we had been playing together for years. Our new one, Blue, is my 10th album recording together with Don and Reg. [Photo above of Don Thompson courtesy of YouTube]
W: How did you manage during the pandemic? DP: I like to connect in person with audiences, but it's not what pulls me toward music. I don't consider myself a natural entertainer, so I didn't really miss performing during the pandemic. Music began for me as a very solitary act when I was a child, singing by myself, not for others. Performance is something I have warmed up to as an extension of being a musician. [Photo above of Reg Schwager courtesy of YouTube]
JW: Sounds like you’re most at home in the studio. DP: I am. It’s my happy place. In the studio, there are limited distractions, and I can fully immerse myself in a song and the story expressed in the lyrics. During the pandemic, I was committed to working within the various Covid protocols to ensure Blue would get done. Closures delayed the process by a year, but I'm very proud we were able to make an album like this despite the pandemic’s constraints. [Photo above of Diana Panton courtesy of YouTube]
JW: Blue is a different sort of album for you. I sense a resigned sadness in your voice. What inspired the song choices and the feel? DP: Actually, my first album included heartache songs, such as I Get Along Without You Very Well and I'm a Fool to Want You. I considered recording the Blue album back then, but at the time, I wasn't sure an entire album of sad songs was the right introduction to my music. With Blue, I felt the song choices would benefit from life experiences and a more mature voice. Most of the songs on Blue wouldn’t have been on my radar years ago. I also don't think I could have interpreted them with as much depth back then. Over the past few years, each member of our trio has experienced a profound loss. These emotions are woven into the fabric of the new album. [Photo above of Jim Vivian]
JW: There’s also a color theme with your albums, yes? DP: Absolutely. Blue tells the story of love affair’s end. This conceptual affair began with Pink (2009), which is about first-time love. It was followed by Red (2013), which is about passionate love, and finally Blue. These releases span a decade and were deliberately spread out to provide authenticity to the timeline. I hope Blue’s music can serve as a balm for those who have experienced loss.
JW: What do you love about working with Don? DP: People talk of kindred spirits, and I believe this term applies musically to Don and me. Since the very first time we performed together, there seemed to be an unsaid understanding of where we wanted to go, emotionally, with a piece. Whenever I come up with a zany idea, such as a jazz album for kids—I Believe in Little Things (2015)—or an album of sad ballads, like Blue, Don never questions my muse. If I come up with an obscure song, he welcomes it with an open mind. [Album cover above by Jose Crespo]
JW: What about Don's arrangements and piano accompaniment? DP: They are like bespoke clothes, tailored to the exact requirements of my voice. But there is very little discussion that takes place in advance. His arrangements come mostly from perception, trust and feel and, of course, his exceptional musical gifts, which guide the group. As for his accompaniment, Don listens with big ears and a big heart. Everything he plays is in service to the song, and he considers every single chord in this way. I'm very blessed to have him in my musical life. Music-making with Don is pure joy. [Artwork above by Jacqui Lee]
JW: Did you both choose the album’s songs? DP: Sourcing the songs is largely my domain. This is one of my favorite parts of the recording process. To me, it's like a treasure hunt, unearthing forgotten gems and envisioning worn standards in a new way. I usually bring a long list of songs to Don. Blue was no exception. Then we run through them fairly quickly. Many of the songs on Blue were new to Don, such as To Say Goodbye and It's Always 4 a.m. He laughs when I come up with songs he's not heard before after a lifetime in music. He also usually suggests a few songs that he thinks might fit the theme, such as Losing My Mind and The Meaning of the Blues for Blue. Once the final songs have been chosen, Don sets about creating the arrangements. Occasionally, I may make a suggestion, such as the sparse piano at the opening of To Say Goodbye. In response to my request, Don opened with a few bars of Bach's Goldberg Variation No. 25. And of course, it worked perfectly. [Photo above of Diana Panton by Jose Crespo]
JW: What are the criteria for songs to make the final cut? DP: They must feel right for both of us. That usually means they have high-quality lyrics and sound harmonic structure. We also have to connect with them emotionally. Very often, the final selections are songs we both happen to love and respect, such as You Are There and Just Sometimes.
JW: Yesterday seems like it would be a weary outlier for Blue. Yet Don’s arrangement and piano and your vocal make it something else. DP: There’s one particular line in the song that has always resonated with me: "There's a shadow hanging over me." I think we've all felt that at some point in our lives, but few songs say it so succinctly. The line’s feeling caused me to add the song to my list of maybes for Blue. After Don and I ran it down in a preliminary rehearsal, it felt right to both of us and was included. [Album cover image above of Diana Panton by Jose Crespo]
JW: Just Sometimes and You Are There were nifty choices. DP: These are two amazing songs with heavy emotional messages. The pain of a lost relationship or a lost life can be unbearable and difficult to put into words, but these two songs succeed in this regard. The stories they tell will choke you up. Singer Norma Winstone (Just Sometimes, lyrics) is a very gifted lyricist, and the same can be said for Dave Frishberg (You Are There lyrics). I've had the opportunity to watch both of them perform, and they are master storytellers. It’s unfortunate that Dave, Johnny Mandel (You Are There music) and Armando Manzanero Canché (Just Sometimes/Pero Te Extrano, music and original language lyrics) passed away before Blue was completed. I hope they would have enjoyed our renditions. [Album cover image above of Diana Panton by Jose Crespo]
JW: Will you be touring the album? DP: Not so much touring as performing some specialized concerts, including one on May 5 at the Registry Theatre in Kitchener, Ontario, featuring the Penderecki Quartet. [Photo above of saxophonist Phil Dwyer by Bruce Stotesbury]
JW: Tell me about the Penderecki Quartet. DP: Before we recorded Blue, Don was working on a different project with the renowned chamber ensemble. The quartet has a wide-ranging repertoire, from Haydn to Frank Zappa. Don and I began chatting about how great it would be to collaborate with them on Blue. We were both elated when they accepted our invitation. The quartet added their string parts after Don, Reg, Jim and I recorded. Then Phil Dwyer added some spectacular saxophone solos in a studio out West. Finally, engineer Chad Irschick expertly wove everything together. [Photo above of the Penderecki Quartet]
JW: Excited about the upcoming Registry performance? And what's next? DP: It will be great to have all the musicians together in one room for the first time to play this music. As for what’s next, there is always a new album in the works—three in fact, at the moment. So many albums, so little time.
Bonus:Here's an animated video of Nobody's Heart from Blue that Diana sent along, with animation by Leading Pictures Inc. and illustrations by Mariel Ashlinn Kelly...
In London in July 1973, Tony Bennett and Lena Horne (above) performed an hour-long concert together before a live audience on BBC television. Later that year in September, ABC broadcast the British TV special in the U.S. The ratings were so strong that producers decided to book the pair into Broadway's Minskoff Theatre the following fall for a 37-performance run of Tony Bennett & Lena Horne Sing. Their Broadway engagement ran from October 30 until November 24 in 1974, winning a special Tony Award and two Grammys for the soundtrack that followed. [Photo above courtesy of Emmy.com. Yes, dear readers, as you can see, my embedding functionality thankfully has been fixed! Thanks for being patient.]
Here's the British TV special, proving that Tony and Lena were not only at the top of their game but pure magic together on stage. I could watch Lena's mouth all day long. And listen for Tony's spectacular rendition of Maybe This Time...
Caterina Valente is one of the most prolific and exceptional all-around entertainers in the second half of the last century. An Italian who was born in France in 1931, Valente grew up in a musical family. She played guitar, was well versed in jazz, danced and spoke six languages and sang in 11, which helped her become one of the most recorded global vocalists and most in-demand performers in Europe. Michel Legrand, of course, was one of the finest composer-pianists who moved effortlessly between jazz, pop and the cinema.
In a career that began in 1954, Valente has long considered her 1972 performance with Legrand at the Olympia in Paris one of her artistic highlights. The concert run took place in January and featured Valente and Legrand singing together for the first portion of the event. Then Valente moved on to perform with a guitarist and then sang solo before returning for additional duets with Legrand.
Here's an hour and 15 minutes from the 1972 concert that brought down the house...
Bonus.Here's Valente in Germany in 1956 singing with Chet Baker backing her. Notice how she purposefully sings flat, in Baker's style, even though she knew exactly where those notes should be. That took skill. A special thanks to Bill Kirchner. The personnel: Chet Baker (tp), Lars Gullin (bar), Dick Twardzik (p), Jimmy Bond (b), Peter Littman (d) and Caterina Valente (vcl)..
You'll find all of Valente and Baker's recordings together here.
Marc Myers writes regularly for The Wall Street Journal and is author of "Anatomy of 55 More Songs," "Anatomy of a Song," "Rock Concert: An Oral History" and "Why Jazz Happened." Founded in 2007, JazzWax has won three Jazz Journalists Association awards.
