James Dapogny, September 2014. Photograph by Michael Steinman.
James Dapogny respected the Harlem stride pianists, but didn’t consider himself one. In conversation, he told me that he was amazed that people (his “who didn’t know the difference” was unsaid) said he was influenced by Fats Waller. Not so, he continued: his heroes or influences were Jess Stacy, Joe Sullivan, and Jelly Roll Morton. And he didn’t often go in for what Jimmie Rowles called “racetrack tempos” in solo piano performances, although he could romp like mad with a band. However, he could build a performance, moving from slow-pensive to walking-briskly to showing the other pianists in the room exactly what he could do.
As he did at the Allegheny Jazz Party on September 22, 2014.
This performance begins (after a comic nod to me, his video-stalker) with the rubato verse and then builds so gorgeously, passion and expertise at work:
How gorgeous. And how we miss Jim.
And here’s Part One, Jim’s tender reading of IF YOU WERE MINE:
Clarinetist Nathan Tokunaga turned seventeen in December 2023. Let that fact sink in.
He has technical mastery of the clarinet and other reeds, no small thing, but what he has in abundance is a fine musical intelligence. In every phrase, he shows his deep understanding of the tradition, the history of the music, but he isn’t an A.I. creation: he goes for himself, phrasing in his own way. And we are glad.
Here he takes on a Benny Goodman feature — Fats Waller’s STEALIN’ APPLES — usually played faster than fast — and delightfully shows us how it is done in 2023.
He’s accompanied by the nobly empathic Dave Stuckey, guitar, with the Hot House Gang rhythm section: Josh Collazo, drums; Mikiya Matsuda, double bass; Chris Dawson, piano. All of this good noise happened at the Jazz Bash by the Bay in Monterey, California, in March 2023:
And on a personal level, which is more important than we ever want to say, Nathan is much more adult than many of the chronological adults I encounter: gracious, humble, funny, and seriously aware. I didn’t discover him: others have had the pleasure of watching him become the person he is meant to be, but I certainly admire him and look forward to the next time I will be in the room when he and his peers make music. Onwards, Youngblood!
And a big cyber-hug to Messrs. Stuckey, Dawson, Matsuda, and Collazo, who all set the earth spinning in the nicest swinging ways.
I know and respect Casey MacGill as a vibrant basket of talents: piano, ukulele, cornet, voice, compositions, arrangements . . . and not incidentally, as a great bandleader who gets his friends together and inspires them to heights. I’ve been writing admiringly of his work — recorded and in performance — for more than a decade now: here, here, here, here, and here.
Superb music. But those links connect to live performances (inspired by and for dancers) and single CDs. Casey’s latest effort is his most ambitious and its scope is very rewarding.
Here’s a romping sample — a loving portrait of Mister Waller:
and the sweetest evocation of Mister Morton:
and an irresistible Invitation to The Dance:
Now, let Casey tell you all about this new release and the history behind it:
Not everything in LOVE LETTER looks endearingly back at the great jazz past. Casey is capable of writing music with great emotional and stylistic variety, and it all has its own authenticity. Here’s FRONT PORCH ROCKIN’ — which, he says, “is the seed that started the project,” “a ballad in a relatively contemporary style. . . . written in 1989 with a Randy Newman flavor”:
and there’s the dark WHO’S GONNA BUY YOUR DRINKS TONIGHT? — aural film noir:
The mere numbers enclosed in this set are impressive: it contains 25 of the 47 pieces Casey plans to record, and it includes the contributions of 56 different musicians, with sessions in Seattle, New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Tacoma, and elsewhere. You can explore more of Casey’s expansive musical imagination on YouTube, also Spotify, Apple Music, Tidal. And you can purchase the two-lp set or a digital download at Bandcamp. I suggest you investigate, because Casey and friends offer the best, highly rewarding surprises.
Some projects — be they concerts, CDs, performances — are easy to write about at first hearing. The music may be dense, but the sounds provoke words in my consciousness, and everything clicks. Other offerings take more time. Much more time. I first heard (and heard about) the CD pictured above more than two months ago: performances of James P. Johnson’s DE ORGANIZER (libretto by Langston Hughes) and excerpts from Johnson’s THE DREAMY KID (libretto by Eugene O’Neill) — both reconstructed by my friend and hero James Dapogny, who also plays piano, with marvelous singing and orchestral playing.
This review is so late because I wanted to honor James P. and Langston Hughes, both artistic deities of my earliest teens, and James Dapogny, whom I knew for slightly more than a decade, and who inspires me still. The words that came to me seemed inadequate and frail, but since I know that Professor Dapogny — “Jim” to the people who love him — would have been impatient with dithering, I will write about the CD and its creators now.
But perhaps some music would help me, writer, and you, readers. Visit here, please.
These operas have been Grail-quests for a long time. Many of us knew a corner of DE ORGANIZER through James P.’s 1939 recording of HUNGRY BLUES, sung by Anna Robinson, and miraculously released at the time. I say “miraculously” because its lyrics are strong and vivid:
and just because it exists and is lovely, a performance by Ruby Smith (Bessie’s niece):
The premise of DE ORGANIZER is simple. It is set in the American South, in the late 1930s; a group of African-American sharecroppers awaits the arrival of a union organizer, who eventually arrives and describes a brighter future through union solidarity. An overseer attempts to disrupt the meeting, but the people unite behind the organizer and agree to unionize. On paper, it looks undramatic, but Hughes’ libretto is emotionally charged — this is not the usual corporate meeting! — and the struggle is real and passionate. (Not incidentally, the flawless Naxos release includes the libretto for both works, invaluable for people who, like me, follow along even when the lyrics are in English.)
I have always found classic “opera” an unstable mixture: lovely melodies but acrobatic feats of vocal athleticism, and plots that, even when they pretended to realism, didn’t get there. The emotional profundity of DE ORGANIZER is its earthy reality, true in 1939 and possibly even truer now. The battle against hunger and for freedom continues, and listening to the singers, one cannot feel that they are in any way distant from the realities they sing about. Hughes’ lines are poetic without being in any way artificial.
And the music! (May I nudge you here a second time?) James P. Johnson wrote for people who danced and sang; the CD is full of lively song, irresistibly lively, orchestrated in varied ways. In some ways, DE ORGANIZER — were we to hear the score on its own — is a vibrant, witty, hertfelt kaleidoscope of African-American music from before 1900 to the then-present of 1939. The music and the energized performance both swing from the downbeat. I hear music that would have been right for a Cotton Club chorus line, melodies that made me think of great jazz improvisations, lovely solos and just-right ensembles.
Although the singers and the orchestra are “classical,” whatever that means, there is no hint of anyone conspicuously removing a tuxedo to change into street clothes. And although the critics of the time did not recognize what they had in front of them, no doubt hampered by implicit and explicit condescension about an African-American jazz musician knocking at the door of the European Tradition, we need not join in.
I have focused more on DE ORGANIZER because, candidly, it hits me very hard. The excerpts from O’Neill’s THE DREAMY KID are gorgeous songs — tied to the story of Dreamy, a young man wanted by the police who chooses to stay with his dying grandmother rather than escape to freedom. Johnson’s first opera offers three arias and a duet, and they are art songs worthy of performance beyond this CD. James Dapogny not only played piano in a way that would have pleased James P., but he also embarked on the difficult process of reconstruction of both works, which process is described in the notes. DE ORGANIZER had one public performance only; I think THE DREAMY KID was never given that opportunity.
I am sorry that this CD appeared after Jim’s death in 2019, but he was proud of the performance and delighted in it. This CD is important for reasons beyond the quality and durability of the music, and the Naxos release is pleasing in every way. The qualities that define James P. Johnson’s composing — its melodic strength and ease, his way of conveying all kinds of emotion, from joyous dance to lament — are all here. If you know him only as “the daddy of the piano” or “Fats Waller’s teacher” or someone Thelonious Monk admired, you will find him, whole and resonant here. His music, vocal and instrumental, is beautiful and compelling: the disc vibrates with feeling, emotions and a moral intelligence not limited by time, space, or context.
I played a few tracks from this new CD for a friend, and her response was simple, “It’s like the past, but only better!” That seemed if not heresy, a paradox, and I asked her to explain. “Well, they sound at first like Stuff Smith and his Onyx Club Boys, which is a wonderful thing, but then again, they remind me of Bill Coleman with Stephane and Django, of Fats, of Louis, of any number of memorable Thirties records. But the best part is that they are alive and well: this isn’t an archaeological trip into Jazz Repertory: we can hear and see them in 2023!”
In case you think my friend is being hyperbolic, I direct you to the post I wrote about the Viper Club in November 2022here. And some aural evidence of the finest kind:
Some practical evidence, i.e., the front cover:
and, as J.C. Flippen used to say, “Flip it over”:
The musicianship is extraordinary: there isn’t a dull or formulaic passage on the disc. It’s a cliche, but the four heroes play as if the fate of the world depended on their swing. And they rescue us, no question. I can testify to this because I nearly ruined my breakfast the other morning because of this disc. Through the happy generosity of the OAO, I now have a very fine CD player / radio on the kitchen counter. I started the disc while I was making breakfast, and got so delightedly engrossed in one track, BABY BROWN, that I kept it on repeat while my eggs and toast came near to inedibility. Dangerously thrilling music, even if you’re not cooking.
Many wonderful bands do the hard work of reproducing venerable recorded performances, and when they succeed, they sound exactly like the Brunswick GOT THE JITTERS by Don Redman or the like. This is a majestic accomplishment, and I know how much labor and sensitivity it requires. But the Viper Club has more expansive goals in mind: to inhabit a way of playing, a way of looking at life, as well as evoking their and our heroes. They are free-range in that their recording of, let’s say, a Stuff Smith composition will bring back memories of an Onyx Club performance, but also of other parallel wizardries.
So the imaginary jukebox is exploded in the best ways, as if Wingy and Henry Red had stopped in to jam with Stephane and Wilson Myers. A panorama, a coloring book without lines to hold back their spirits. Louis would have called it Dee-lightful. And so do I.
A digression. While I was on YouTube, looking for audio-visual evidence for this post (I had naively typed in “viper club”) what came up was a new horror film called THE VIPER CLUB, starring Susan Sarandon. Sarandon is a great actress. But I’ll take this band any day, and there’s not a horrifying note to be found when they play.
This disc and other marvels can be purchased at https://lejazzetal.com/shop/ — the online record store of my dreams.
I don’t have the wall space for all these holy relics, but the word “breath-taking” is for once accurate to describe my reaction when I saw this collection on eBay.
I have to explain, however, that the bidding closed yesterday; these actual 78s have been sold. However, I thought the images were priceless, so I saved them for the JAZZ LIVES audience. That way, should you desire it, you can have a photograph made of any or all of the labels, or use the image to decorate a coffee mug, a t-shirt, or what have you. The world of products is wide beyond belief. I write this note because someone asked, “Where can I find these records on eBay?” and I had to respond that they were no longer for sale.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.
The seller’s description is candid and funny:
I AM CURRENTLY LISTING THIS 1ST GROUP OF A LARGE COLLECTION OF ORIGINAL 1930s-40s AUTOGRAPHED 78 RECORDS. THEY’RE FRESH OUT OF AN ESTATE. THEY ALL CAME FROM THE SAME COLLECTION. PLEASE SEE THE REST OF MY CURRENT LISTINGS FOR THE OTHER RECORDS IN THIS GROUP.
THE RECORDS ARE ALL ORIGINAL & IN THE ORIGINAL PERIOD THICK PAPER SLEEVES THEY WERE FOUND STORE IN. THE RECORDS ARE NOT CRACKED, CHIPPED, WARPED UP, MELTED, BROKEN, REPAIRED, POLISHED UP, CLEANED, MODIFIED OR REPAIRED. PLEASE NOTE: THE GROOVES ALL STILL HAVE A NICE SHINY SHEEN, BUT I HAVE NO WAY TO PLAY THE RECORDS TO SEE IF ANYTHING SKIPS. (I CANNOT OFFER A RETURN IN REFERENCE TO A RECORD SKIPPING.)
I ASSURE ALL BIDDERS THAT YOU’RE VIEWING AUTHENTIC ORIGINAL PERIOD HAND SIGNED AUTOGRAPHS. MOST ARE IN WHITE INK. THE SIGNATURES ARE NOT PRINTS, AUTO-PEN, FACSIMILE, ETC… THER’YE 100% REAL. I HOPE THESE RECORDS GO TO A GOOD COLLECTION. THEY’RE BEING OFFERED DIRECTLY FROM AN ESTATE & AS PICTURED HERE.
PLEASE TAKE NOTE: THESE ARE PRIMITIVE BRITTLE OLD SHELLAC RESIN 78RPM RECORDS. THEY WILL CRACK EASILY. DUE TO VALUE & EXTREME FRAGILITY, I CANNOT OFFER COMBINED SHIPPING FOR THIS ITEM. EACH RECORD WILL BE SHIPPED IN IT’S OWN SEPARATE BOX FOR SAFETY IN TRANSIT.
I don’t know anything more than that, but the collection includes records made c. 1938-1947. They also look well-played, which touches me: whoever chased after the musicians, white pen at the ready, valued the music in the grooves as much as the signatures. They came from an estate in the Georgetown area of Washington, D.C.
And, as I have said at length elsewhere, getting an autograph requires that one’s idol share a moment, a few words, eye contact, perhaps even a smile. One is in the presence of Greatness, and one has an invaluable souvenir to prove that the encounter happened.
Into the present — selling these now is, to me, more commendable than locking them away in a glass-fronted cabinet with its own alarm system with only one person allowed to admire them. Spread the joys!
So, without further ado, as they say —
EDDIE and FATS:
COOTIE on Capitol:
Well, HI-DE-HO to you, too!
The very dear Mr. Butterfield:
Big Tea:
The one, the only Rabbit:
Chicago’s ART:
Miss Ethel Waters!:
Little Jazz:
The HAMP:
Harry CARNEY:
a double-header or a trifecta, with JIMMY JONES and LAWRENCE BROWN:
from Freeport, New York, MIFF:
The Holy Main:
Fatha!
and Mr. B.:
Peggy:
Benny, in part:
and he’s in the groove:
Ella:
Was there anyone finer?:
Artie:
The one, the only:
Gene:
Stuff:
Mr. Berry, himself:
Louis Jordan:
Mister Hackett, very jovial:
There were others, but that’s a satisfying supply of marvels for now.
It’s beautiful when something evanescent is captured in ways that enhance its essence, and the new video series — beautifully conceived, recorded, and photographed — thanks to Turtle Bay Records, is doing a wonderful job of capturing memorable hot music. And it’s more than aiming a camera at performances (which I do); the musicians get to talk about their beginnings and influences, tell good stories, and more. I have deep feelings about this series, because when I entered my current New York life in 2004, some of the first musicians I met and revered were Kevin Dorn, Jesse Gelber, and Jon-Erik Kellso. . . who remain heroes.
The episode that caught my eye first features Jon-Erik Kellso, Puje trumpet, Sweet Megg, vocal; Ricky Alexander, clarinet; Jesse Gelber, piano; Kevin Dorn, drums. You’ll hear and see insightful talk and fine performances of SOMEDAY SWEETHEART / THANKS A MILLION:
Here, featuring Kevin and the band on HINDUSTAN and ALICE BLUE GOWN:
Here, Queen Esther, with Jesse Gelber, for BIG STUFF and FEEL LIKE GOING HOME:
Jesse Gelber, playing and singing WILLIE THE WEEPER with the band and MAPLE LEAF RAG solo:
Mike Davis, trumpet, with Dalton Ridenhour, piano; Jerron Paxton, banjo; Ricky, clarinet; Rob Adkins, string bass, for WILD MAN BLUES, and in duet with Sweet Megg, backed by Dalton and Rob for I’VE GOT A FEELIN’ I’M FALLING:
Dalton Ridenhour, with Mike, Ricky, Jerron, guitar; Rob, for IF WE NEVER MEET AGAIN, and in duet with Sweet Megg for the TENNESSEE WALTZ:
For more information about CD and vinyl releases on the Turtle Bay Records label — including music by Ricky, Megg, Kevin, Terry Waldo, Tatiana Eva-Marie, Molly Ryan, and more — with more to come! — click here. Thanks to Scott Asen for making this all a delightful reality.
Update, November 20, 2023. Here are newspaper articles (thanks to the tireless Tom Samuels), heralding the concert, one after the fact.
NEW YORK AMSTERDAM NEWS, March 11, 1944:
BALTIMORE AFRO-AMERICAN, also March 11:
NEW YROK AMSTERDAM NEWS, March 25, 1944:
CHICAGO DEFENDER, April 8, 1944:
Music first. Then, words. Many words: suitable for lovers of jazz mysteries.
HONEYSUCKLE ROSE Teddy Wilson Sextet at the Fats Waller Memorial Concert, April 2, 1944, [mis-dated as May 4, all issues] Carnegie Hall, New York City: Wilson, piano; Edmond Hall, clarinet; Emmett Berry, trumpet; Bennie Morton, trombone; Al Hall, string bass; Sidney Catlett, drums:
GET THE MOP:
LADY BE GOOD Mezz Mezzrow Septet at the Fats Waller Memorial Concert, April 2, 1944, [mis-dated as May 4, all issues] Carnegie Hall, New York City: Mezzrow, clarinet; Ben Webster, tenor saxophone; unknown, tenor saxophone; Trummy Young, trombone [mis-identified as Dicky Wells on all issues]; unknown, piano; unknown, string bass; Sidney Catlett, drums:
and from the Carnegie Hall archives:
Sunday, April 2, 1944 at 8:30 PM
Main Hall PRESENTED BY American Youth for Democracy A Salute to Thomas (Fats) Waller
Selections (unspecified) Raymond Edward Johnson, Actor Will Geer, Actor Mezz Mezzrow, Clarinet Jimmy Savo, Comedian Al Hall, Double Bass Oscar Pettiford, Double Bass Pops Foster, Double Bass Cozy Cole, Drums Sid Catlett, Drums Slick Jones, Drums Josh White, Folk Singer Ralph Cooper, Host Al Casey Trio, Jazz Ensemble Count Basie and His Orchestra, Jazz Ensemble Teddy Wilson and His Band, Jazz Ensemble Art Hodes, Piano Bob Howard, Piano Count Basie, Piano Hazel Scott, Piano J. C. Johnson, Piano Mary Lou Williams, Piano Pat Flowers, Piano Teddy Wilson, Piano Willie “The Lion” Smith, Piano Edith Sewell, Soprano Muriel Rahn, Soprano Howard Da Silva, Speaker Paul Draper, Tap Dancer Ben Webster, Tenor Saxophone Trummy Young, Trombone Erskine Hawkins, Trumpet Frankie Newton, Trumpet Hot Lips Page, Trumpet Teri Josefovits, Unspecified Instrument Xavier Cugat, Violin Baby Hines, Vocalist Billie Holiday, Vocalist Jimmy Rushing, Vocalist Mildred Bailey, Vocalist Thelma Carpenter, Vocalist
A little history, a little mystery. I first encountered these three selections on two Jazz Archives microgroove issues in the early Seventies. Jazz Archives was the creation of the assiduous collector Jerry Valburn, whom I met in person a few times because we lived only a few miles away. His label issued live recordings, alternate takes, rare issues, and more. But in this case his documentation was not completely accurate, or it may have been the fault of the person identifying the source material. All issues have placed this concert as May 4, which couldn’t have happened, because that night A. Philip Randolph and others were speaking at Carnegie. The issue mis-identified the trumpet player on HONEYSUCKLE and MOP as Hot Lips Page, a logical error, but it’s very clearly Emmett Berry, who also recorded with the almost-identical Wilson band in 1944. Finally, the trombonist on LADY BE GOOD was identified as Dicky Wells, but it’s very plainly Trummy Young.
There are several other blank spaces in the identification of the Mezzrow Septet: Mezz, Sidney, Ben, and Trummy are completely recognizable. But the oom-cha pianist and anonymous string bassist? Since the concert drew on musicians connected to Cafe Society Uptown and Downtown, I wonder if the first tenor saxophonist is Kenneth Hollon. Teri Josefovits composed and played “novelty piano,” rather like a modern Zez Confrey. But I also want to know how Xavier Cugat fit in. And if you are wondering, “American Youth for Democracy” was the youth group of the Communist Party: not at all surprising, for in 1944 “the left” was vigorously in support of jazz, African-American art, and interracial presentations.
All of this is understandably minutiae, “into the weeds,” as our friend Matthew Rivera calls it. But the three recordings above are professionally done. (A fourth performance from this concert, AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’ by the Basie band, was issued on lp, not CD — Valburn’s “Everybody’s” label — but I don’t have that disc.) I want to know what happened to the other discs. Where are the performances by Newton, Lips, Mildred, the Lion, Pettiford? I did go down a few alleys in my quest: I asked the wonderful musician-archivist David Sager if the discs resided in the Library of Congress (Valburn had donated his Ellington collection there, I seem to recall) and the answer was no. I have a vague memory of leaving a phone message with Lori Valburn, Jerry’s daughter, whose artwork decorated more than a few Jazz Archives covers, but she never called back.
If anyone knows, I’d be thrilled to learn more. Until then, three more performances that many of you may not have heard.
This music was created. It was recorded. Where are the records?
Here’s a musical enactment about what academics call “discourse,” and what the rest of us call, at best, “gossip,” from January 1927. The singers are Joe Sims (sometimes Simms) and Clarence Williams; the impressive cornetist is the mysterious “Big Charlie Thomas”; the frolicsome young pianist is one Tom Waller:
Never has a lecture on good behavior swung so much — so take heed.
Every Tuesday night in June, the wonderful trio of Gabrielle Stravelli, voice; Michael Kanan, piano; Pat O’Leary, string bass, has an early-evening gig (5:30 to 7 PM, more or less) at the comfortable Birdland Theater, one flight down, at 315 West 44th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues in midtown Manhattan.
The OAO and I were there for the first Tuesday and it was delightful and delightfully varied. I couldn’t bring back any video-evidence for you, but here are two previously unseen delights from the Dan Block Quartet’s gig at Swing 46, with Dan on tenor saxophone.
I can’t account for the meteorological theme, but since everyone talks about the weather, I hope that will hold true for these beautiful musicians and their art.
Here’s a rarity, WITH THE WIND AND THE RAIN IN YOUR HAIR, by Clara Edwards and Jack Lawrence — its first recordings from 1940. (Both Edwards and Lawrence are fascinating figures: she was a singer, pianist, composer of art songs as well as popular ones, and he is perhaps best known for the Ink Spots’ IF I DIDN’T CARE — but their biographies are intriguing.)
From the rare to the perhaps over-familiar . . . ON THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET, like ALL OF ME, has been performed so many times that I often sigh when a band or singer calls it, but not with this band and this singer. It’s credited to Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields, although the gossip says that the melody was first composed by one Thomas Waller. Whether that’s true or not, I am reminded of Jonathan Schwartz’s anecdote about his father, Arthur Schwartz, saying to his son when they were walking in the shade, “Let’s cross over to Dorothy’s side of the street.”
Here, we can do the same thing (looking all four ways) and find ourselves in creative happiness. Catch Gabrielle’s exultant second chorus and the wondrous playing by Dan, Pat, and Michael (the last slyly reminding us of the pitter-pat, as he should):
Don’t miss Gabrielle and her friends, no matter what your phone tells you about the weather. They improve the darkest day.
I’m here to share pleasures: on March 16th, otherwise an ordinary Wednesday night, the OAO and I witnessed a memorable musical constellation. It took place in the darkness, but darkness is not the enemy of swing. Billed as the Tamar Korn Quartet (at Cellar Dog, 75 Christopher Street, Greenwich Village, New York City) it was Tamar, magnificently herself; Jon-Erik Kellso, trumpet; Mark Shane, piano; Kevin Dorn, drums. It’s been my good fortune to know and hear all of them, separately and together, for years. Inspiration was evident, and good feeling.
Three times during the night, Tamar suggested that they trio have an instrumental interlude, opportunities that were memorable from the first bar.
For their first performance, Mark chose the Dietz-Schwartz affirmation (think Fred Astaire, think Henry “Red” Allen): SHINE ON YOUR SHOES:
Then, the very friendly-reliable EXACTLY LIKE YOU (I missed the first seconds, and apologize for it):
and the (musical) question I hope my readers don’t have to ask, WHAT’S THE REASON (I’M NOT PLEASIN’ YOU)?:
And because Tamar sang, acted, danced, so wonderfully, I call your attention to the wonderful song she sang at the start:
The source: a friendly approachable silly-memorable 1937 tune, based in the appeal of adults pretending to be children (deconstruct the lyrics at your peril):
A little later on, the Basie way — slightly increased tempo, a hilarious Fats-based piano chorus, with wonderful soloing from Jack Washington and Buck Clayton, and a deliciously adult vocal (so good-humored!) by Jimmy Rushing that leads to a hot trumpet solo from Bobby Moore. And the band is rocking irresistibly in the final chorus: the finest dance music ever:
Next, Professor Wingston and his Mighty Men, George Brunis, trombone; Matty Matlock, clarinet; Joe Marsala, tenor saxophone; Conrad Lanoue, piano; Artie Shapiro, string bass; Danny Alvin, drums. Note Joe bubbling behind the vocal, where Wingy disconnects the lyrics line by line:
And a surprising instrumental version by Fats Waller and his Rhythm, jamming all the way through. Did Fats say, “I won’t sing that _____?” Anyway, the hot results are rewarding:
Is there a moral here? An aesthetic lecture on the intrinsic superiority of improvisation? No, because you could hear all four of these versions on the radio and live in 1937 (also Russ Morgan and Harry Roy) — people danced to them and enjoyed them. And there’s much to enjoy in each one. I like all four versions!
If you must muse on deeper meanings, I encourage you to begin here:
Knock, knock! Who’s there? Boo. Boo who? Oh, I’m sorry….I didn’t mean to make you cry!
Marty Grosz, or Martin Oliver Grosz, is 92 today. Although he would probably have some derisive comment to make about his birthday or the people who celebrate it — his candor can be a little startling — we are glad he is here to be derisive. And even if he doesn’t want to celebrate the day, we always celebrate him.
Ah, Marty: the surprisingly tender balladeer, the sophisticated orchestral guitarist summoning up Kress and McDonough, the hot vaudevillian rocking (and mocking) the ballad in the best Fats manner. We are blessed by his multiple musical personalities. This tape comes from the collection of the late John L. Fell, and traces its provenance back to John Steiner (who recorded it) and Joe Boughton (who saved it). I treasure it.
When this tape was played for Marty in 2021, thanks to his friend and musical colleague Jim Gicking, he remembered going to a room above Steiner’s garage for what he called “clowning around” that was preserved on tape.
There’s comedy here but also swing and romance: the gifts of Grosz.
In 1956, POLKA DOTS AND MOONBEAMS, by Johnny Burke and Jimmy Van Heusen, had been a popular standard — first recorded in 1940 by Frank Sinatra with Tommy Dorsey — and was also part of the jazz repertoire. Did Marty hear it on the radio or was it a request at a gig, and did he want to both address its sweetness (think Red McKenzie) and loosen its structure (think Fats Waller) in his own way?
Whatever he was thinking, he and Bob Saltmarsh made an impromptu performance that to me summons up his essence: a Venn diagram of so many overlapping spheres, too intricate to analyze . . . but so rich in pleasure.
Photograph by Lynn Redmile
All in less than five minutes. And Marty was 26.
In researching this post, I looked into the song itself — even when its lyrics take chances, I’ve always found it charming, and the cyberworld yielded up this gem that would have pleased both Ed Beach and S.J. Perelman. It’s from Wikipedia, so help me: The song has a notable lyric: the man discovers love at a country dance by accidentally bumping into a woman who has a pug nose. The others at the dance are looking strange at this, since her nose makes her someone they wouldn’t think romantically about. But he has the last laugh: she becomes the love of his life, and he settles down with her.
And here’s the brief verse, which I’ve never heard sung or played.
Happy birthday, Marty! We love you, even if you don’t want to hear about it.
This airshot on a cassette tape came to me with no more identification than “Honeysuckle Rose, Muggsy,” and those two elements are beyond debate. So is the presence of Darnell Howard, clarinet. And the arranging touches suggest a working band. One source says Ralph Hutchinson, trombone; Floyd Bean, piano; Truck Parham, string bass; Barrett Deems, drums, performed at George Wein’s Storyville, Boston, September 23, 1951. That’s only a listing in a discography, so I don’t know if that is this HONEYSUCKLE or another, and drumming friends who have heard this suggest Teddy Roy on piano and a different drummer.
Whatever: it’s lovely to hear Muggsy and Co. in this groove. Original source material possibly from Joe Boughton, my tape from John L. Fell.
Some artists, as they age, become more timid versions of their earlier selves. Earl Hines seemed to throw off any polite restraint and have a wonderful time splashing across the keyboard. Here is another brightly-colored solo recital from the Grande Parade du Jazz. Yellow suit and all: he was 71, afraid of nothing.
Part One: MY MONDAY DATE / YOU CAN DEPEND ON ME (captioned as CAN’T) / CAUTION BLUES / ROSETTA / Fats Waller Medley: BLACK AND BLUE – TWO SLEEPY PEOPLE – AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’ – SQUEEZE ME – HONEYSUCKLE ROSE (partial):
Part Two: HONEYSUCKLE ROSE (concluded) / ST. LOUIS BLUES:
I first met the piano master / historian / record producer / raconteur Mike Lipskin in California in 2012, but he had been a hero of mine since I bought this record in 1971. Mike has studied the stride Ancestors but knows how to go his own ways within the tradition: he’s the very antithesis of the static copyist, and he follows his own — often surprising — impulses.
A few days ago I was nosing around my cassette archives (yes, savor the antiquity of that phrase) and to my delight, this appeared — a gift from my friend, the late John L. Fell, who recorded the first forty-five minutes of a 1987 conversation-recital by Mike, speaking to the amiably well-informed Phil Elwood. It’s a rewarding interlude in many ways. And here’s the bill of fare: NUMB FUMBLIN’ / I WISH I WERE IN LOVE AGAIN / SHE’S FUNNY THAT WAY / MULE WALK / SWEET SAVANNAH SUE / NOTHING MISSING NOW (ML original, vocal) / AM I BLUE (ML) //
And since Mike is happy and well and striding and making jokes, he will be playing Mezzrow in New York City (163 West Tenth Street) on Tuesday, December 28th, from 10:30 to 11:30, with Ricky Alexander. . . a delightful hour in store for us.
This neat little band has been attracting fans and friends on early Tuesday evenings at Swing 46 (349 West 46th Street, New York City) for more than a few months . . . and it deserves to have its names up in lights. Leader Dan Block (tenor and alto saxophones, clarinet and bass clarinet) gives equal time to the wonderful Gabrielle Stravelli (vocals), Michael Kanan (piano), and Pat O’Leary (string bass). Here they are — about two months ago — tenderly moseying through the Waller-Razaf AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’ — which is truly a love song about fidelity and joyous discovery — at a tempo that makes it emotionally meaningful, rather than a race to the outchorus:
What lovely playful sounds! And in their three sets on a Tuesday night, this splendid quartet creates marvel after marvel. You mean to say you could have visited them at West 46th Street and haven’t . . . ?
In his sixty-year performing career, Earl Hines was never characterized as a timid improviser. No, he was daring — that he had a piano in front of him rather than a machete was only the way the Fates had arranged it. Dick Wellstood called him, “Your Musical Host, serving up the hot sauce,” and that’s apt. Whether the listener perceives it as the freedom to play whatever occurred to him or a larger musical surrealism, it was never staid.
Later in life, Hines had (like his colleague Teddy Wilson) various medleys and tributes that could form a set program for an evening, but he improvised, even within set routines. The listener was in the grip of joyous turbulence, and Hines’ showmanship was always part of the show. Here, first solo and then accompanied by Harley White, string bass, and Eddie Graham, drums, he plays music composed by and associated with his friend Fats Waller. Make sure your seat belt is low and tight across your hips before we start.
Photograph by David Redfern
The songs are BLACK AND BLUE / TWO SLEEPY PEOPLE / AIN’T MISBEHAVIN’ / JITTERBUG WALTZ / SQUEEZE ME / HONEYSUCKLE ROSE . . . and each of them has its possibilities examined, shaken, stirred, and offered to us in the most multi-colored way. And, yes, my mixing of metaphors is an intentional bow to the Fatha:
Hines told more than one interviewer that his flashing “trumpet style” of playing — octaves and single-note lines exploding like fireworks — was born out of necessity, his desire to be heard over the band. He kept to that path even when no band was present, and it’s dazzling.
A friend whose taste I trust asked, “Have you heard the singer Elise Roth? I think you’d be impressed.” I report: I am not only impressed, but triply so.
Many people underestimate how difficult it is to sing effectively, and how arduous it is to be a “jazz singer.” Much more is involved than glamour, hair styling, lovely clothes, and a repertoire of ten songs ranging from WHAT A LITTLE MOONLIGHT CAN DO to MY FUNNY VALENTINE, all learned from famous (read: “over-familiar”) recordings. A genuine singer needs more than the stage presence required to stand up, open one’s mouth and glide along in an approximate relationship to one’s accompaniment.
But rather than rant about the depths of what is offered to us as the real thing, I present to you someone impressive and delightfully versatile. Elise Roth has at least three artistic selves, each one a wow. She’s also known as Elise M. Roth — two names, appropriate for someone so vividly diversified without a hint of multiple-personality disorder.
The first thing you’ll hear — no matter which of the selves you encounter — is the beauty of Elise’s voice, whether she’s deep in romance, sprightly in a swing tune, or enjoying herself more than the laws allow in mockery. Her classical training is evident, but it isn’t a hindrance: she never sounds like Lily Pons trying to swing. She has elegant diction, a fine sense of melody and the melodic line, and a serious rhythmic awareness. Her musicianship comes through no matter what the context.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present not one but three Ms. Roths: ROMANTIC, SWINGER, and COMEDIAN.
(However, she has but one YouTube channel. I don’t make the rules.)
The ROMANTIC (with superb accompaniment by Eric Baldwin):
She’s impassioned but in complete control, and the looseness of her second vocal interlude is charming and convincing. It’s a polished performance, but it has the relaxation of an assured musician, secure enough in the song to be able to move around within it. And her sound!
How about an even more difficult test — EASY LIVING, so associated with Billie and Lester that it’s a trap for most singers, one Elise avoids by singing the song in her own way, on its own terms:
Superb accompaniment here by Eric Baldwin, Alex Olsen, George Darrah, and Sahil Warsi as well.
But Elise is also a well-established big band singer, performing with Dan Gabel and the Abeltones, Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks, and her own Harvard Squares. And, as any experienced singer will tell you, working with a large ensemble requires even more intuition and art than being your own boss in front of the microphone. These live videos don’t always present her voice with the same resonant closeness, but they give an idea of how well she sings in real life.
MOON RAY:
and here she is in New York City in front of Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks, for HUMMIN’ TO MYSELF, displaying a fine rhythmic ease and her own wit (“rehearsin’ all afternoon”):
and most recently, with her own Harvard Squares for I’M CHECKIN’ OUT, GOOM-BYE:
Then, the COMEDIAN. Or should I say the CLEVER SATIRIST? Elise’s ever-expanding magnum opus in her own splendidly quirky field is what she calls THE GARBLED AMERICAN SONGBOOK, VOLUME ONE. And I quote, “In 2018, I started running the lyrics to jazz standards from the Great American Songbook through Google Translate, via several different languages and then back into English. I don’t know what possessed me to do this. This is the result.”
This, indeed.
as well as This (Jacob Hiser, piano):
and, finally, This:
Enjoy her equilibrium as she rode the ungainly lyrics over the familiar melodies — the result somewhere between Leo Watson and Ulysses . . . in swing, of course.
I hope you are as impressed as I am, and want to hear more / see more of Elise Roth, with or without the M. How to accomplish this? She is currently in London, and here you can find her gig calendar. But for those of us not near Covent Garden, the news is still reassuring: on her Bandcamp page, you can find links to her first effort, CHECKING OUT! (where GOOM-BYE comes from), THE GARBLED AMERICAN SONGBOOK, VOLUME ONE, and her latest, ELISE ROTH’S 2nd SWING EP: A SOCIALLY DISTANCED COLLABORATION.
I’ve enjoyed all three, and I look forward to what the talented Ms. Roth will surprise us with next.
Oh, my title. When I wrote to Elise to introduce myself and express my pleasure, I launched my then-working title to see if she would approve. Her reaction? “Three hats, sounds great! Funnily enough I have worked at a hat shop, though wearing three at a time was frowned upon 🙂”
So her wit is real. And, as you can see and hear, her art is also.
Dick Hyman and Ruby Braff — a wonderful CD, by the way
Because I followed Ruby Braff around circa 1971-82, I had many opportunities to see him in a variety of contexts. But I saw him in duet with Dick Hyman only twice, I think, and neither time was Dick playing the gorgeous pipe organ he has at his command here. Thank goodness for the BBC, which took the opportunity of recording Ruby and Dick in concert at a spot which had an actual Wurlitzer pipe organ.
I’d heard this forty-minute session on a cassette from a British collector, but only this year — through the kindness of a scholar-friend did I get to see the performance and have an opportunity to share it with you. The details:
Dick Hyman, Wurlitzer pipe organ; Ruby Braff, cornet, introduced by Russell Davies. SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH / THEM THERE EYES / LOUISIANA / HIGH SOCIETY / WHEN I FALL IN LOVE / JITTERBUG WALTZ (Braff out) / BASIN STREET BLUES. Recorded for broadcast on the BBC at the Thursford Fairground Museum, Norfolk, UK. A few audio and video defects come with the package: the occasional pink hue, the slight static. I’m not complaining. Annotations thanks to Thomas P. Hustad’s definitive bio-discography of Ruby Braff, BORN TO PLAY (Scarecrow Press, 2012).
Music that impresses the angels and moves the heavens. And speaking of blessedness, let us honor the durably lovely Dick Hyman, still making celestial sounds.
Do consider. What could be better than an unpublished Fats Waller composition arranged twice for all-star hot jazz band — the arrangers being Marty Grosz and James Dapogny — with the arrangements (different moods, tempi, and keys) played in sequence? I know my question is rhetorical, but you will have the evidence to delight in: a jewel of an extended performance from 2007.
James Dapogny at Jazz at Chautauqua, 2014, by Michael Steinman.
CAUGHT is an almost-unknown Fats Waller composition (first recorded by James Dapogny) presented in two versions, one after the other, at the 2007 Jazz at Chautauqua, first Marty Grosz’s ominous music-for-strippers, then Dapogny’s romp. One can imagine the many possible circumstances that might have led to this title . . . perhaps unpaid alimony, or other mischief?
Marty, 2009, by Michael Steinman.
The alchemists here are James Dapogny, piano; Marty Grosz, banjo and explanations; Duke Heitger, trumpet; Bob Havens, trombone; Dan Block, alto saxophone, clarinet; Scott Robinson, soprano saxophone, tenor saxophone; Vince Giordano, tuba, string bass, bass saxophone; Arnie Kinsella, drums.
Note to meticulous consumers of sounds: this track begins with immense extraneous noise, and Arnie’s accents explode in the listeners’ ears. The perils of criminality: I had a digital recorder in my jacket pocket, so if and when I moved, the sound of clothing is intrusive. I apologize for imperfections, but I am proud of my wickedness; otherwise you wouldn’t have this to complain about:
I have been captivated by this performance for years — the simple line, so developed and lifted to the skies by the performers, the arrangements: the generous music given unstintingly to us. You might say I’ve been CAUGHT.
I confess that a few days ago the Scottish pianist Brian Kellock was not known to me. Yet in under an hour of listening, I’ve become a fan, an advocate, an enthusiast. Some evidence for this burst of feeling: here’s Brian playing Richard Rodgers’ WAIT ‘TIL YOU SEE HER on his 2019 solo CD, BIDIN’ MY TIME:
What I hear first is a kind of clarity: Brian is a sensitive player but someone who’s definite, deeply into The Song and committed to letting its glories be heard. But he is not simply a curator of melody, someone handing the linen-wrapped relic to us to adore. He has imagination and scope; he takes chances. He has a beautiful touch, with technique and power in reserve. And did I say that he swings? Consider this:
Obviously someone to admire, who’s listened but doesn’t copy, who goes his own delightful ways. He’s deep into the only worthwhile activity: absorbing all the influences and stirring them together to come up with himself.
But wait! There’s more . . . let me tell you some things you haven’t heard yet.
Scottish jazz star Brian Kellock has put together a brand-new line-up to celebrate the music and spirit of one of the living legends of the Edinburgh Jazz Festival: the American rhythm guitarist, vocalist, and raconteur Marty Grosz, who recently turned 91.
Brian Kellock (piano), Ross Milligan (guitar) & Roy Percy (bass) are all fans who relished every opportunity to catch Marty when he visited the Edinburgh Jazz Festival in the 1990s and 2000s.
Indeed, 2021 marks the 30th anniversary ofMarty’s very first visit to Edinburgh. And who did he play with duringthat first visit? A young Brian Kellock.
The joy of a Marty Grosz gig is that it is fun. Jazz shouldn’t – in his view – be po-faced or serious. It should be entertaining – just as it was when he was growing up and his favourite musicians included Fats Waller, Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington, all of whom knew how to put on a show.
His selection of tunes has always been highly distinctive and original: whereas other musicians pull the same old numbers out of the bag wherever they play, Marty – also known as a member of 1970s supergroup Soprano Summit – built an international solo career on the tunes that jazz had forgotten. And then he put his own imaginative twist on them. If he had a small group, he would dream up a memorable arrangement, often on the spot, and if he was playing solo, there would be so much colour in his playing that you’d forget you were only listening to one guy.
At the Marty Party, Brian will – as Marty often has – play 20 minutes as a soloist before Ross and Roy join him onstage. This will be an affectionate and fun homage to a longstanding Edinburgh Jazz Festival favourite; a musician who, although he no longer travels to Scotland, continues to delight aficionados (and the rest of their households) with his generous back catalogue of recordings, by a range of bands with such witty names as the Orphan Newsboys, the Paswonky Serenaders, Marty Grosz and His Swinging Fools, and Marty Grosz and His Hot Puppies.
Brian Kellock says: “I’m absolutely thrilled to be playing music associated with Marty Grosz at my first ‘live’ gig since before the pandemic. Marty’s records have boosted my spirits many times over the last 18 months, and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the joy of playing jazz in front of an audience again. I’m delighted to be introducing a new line-up, with Roy and Ross, and hoping that this core combo will be joined by a horn player or two for future Marty-inspired gigs.”
Brian Kellock’s Marty Party, Assembly Roxy, Wednesday July 21 at 2pm – live and online. Tickets from edinburghjazzfestival.com
As a former college professor of mine used to say, most endearingly, “I commend this to you.”
JAZZ LIVES 