“IT’S A WONDERFUL WORLD”: TIM LAUGHLIN – CONNIE JONES ALL STARS at SAN DIEGO (Nov. 24, 2012)

Let me be candid.  This band impressed and moved me so much in person, and the videos continue to make me very happy — “tonation and phrasing” carried to the very apex of swinging beauty.

They are Tim Laughlin, clarinet; Connie Jones, cornet and vocal; Mike Pittsley, trombone; Chris Dawson, piano; Marty Eggers, string bass; Katie Cavera, guitar; Hal Smith, drums — all recorded at the San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival (this session on November 24, 2013).  This music emphasized the truth of this post’s title, I am positive.

I CRIED FOR YOU:

IT’S A WONDERFUL WORLD:

TOGETHER:

WABASH BLUES:

IT’S BEEN SO LONG:

IF I HAD YOU:

LENA, THE QUEEN OF PALESTEENA:

SPAIN:

DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO MISS NEW ORLEANS?:

And, for the near future — the 34th Festival (now called The San Diego Jazz Festival) will take place from Nov. 27 to Dec. 1, with music by Bob Schulz, Ray Skjelbred, Glenn Crytzer, the Yerba Buena Stompers, the Reynolds Brothers, High Sierra, Stephanie Trick, Paolo Alderighi, Jason Wanner, Bob Draga, Carl Sonny Leyland, Grand Dominion, Chloe Feoranzo, and much more.  For information, visit here.

May your happiness increase.

LET’S ROCK IT!: CARL SONNY LEYLAND’S SAN DIEGO RHYTHM KINGS: CARL SONNY LEYLAND, CLINT BAKER, CHLOE FEORANZO, MARTY EGGERS, JEFF HAMILTON: San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Festival, Nov. 24, 2012)

As soon as this impromptu band started to play, a famous picture came to mind:

The spelling at the 33rd San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Festival was better but the music was just as inspiring as the blue-label Deccas that pianist Albert Ammons made with (if I recall correctly) trumpeter Guy Kelly and reedman Dalbert Bright in Chicago in 1936.

The San Diego version (assembled on November 24, 2012) was composed of Carl, piano / vocals; Clint Baker, trumpet; Chloe Feoranzo, reeds; Marty Eggers, string bass; Jeff Hamilton, drums.  And they rocked!

EARLY IN THE MORNING:

‘S’WONDERFUL:

STACKOLEE:

I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU:

IT HAD TO BE YOU:

CABBAGE GREENS:

KEY TO THE HIGHWAY:

ROSETTA:

LOUISIANA FAIRY TALE:

THREE LITTLE WORDS (with the famous and apt riff from Lester Young’s 1943 Commodore date):

May your happiness increase.

IN CELEBRATION! “WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE”: TIM LAUGHLIN – CONNIE JONES at SAN DIEGO (Nov. 23, 2012)

Facebook, the cyber-world’s town crier, let me know this morning that today, March 6, is clarinetist / bandleader / composer Tim Laughlin’s birthday.  That is a major event, for Mr. Laughlin not only creates beautiful swirling melodies, but he surrounds himself with synergistic bands that uplift us all.  In celebration of this very notable day, I present another set that his All-Stars played at the November 2013 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival.  They are Connie Jones, cornet; Mike Pittsley, trombone; Chris Dawson, piano; Katie Cavera, guitar; Marty Eggers, string bass; Hal Smith, drums.  And in their honor, I have changed the title of the first selection from the tentative to the more optimistically assertive, for this band made and makes dreams take tangible swinging shape.  (And the wonderful repertoire!)

WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE:

TEARS:

MY BUDDY:

A HUNDRED YEARS FROM TODAY:

CHINA BOY (Hal kicks it off!):

TEA FOR TWO (featuring Chris, Marty, Katie, and Hal):

FOR ALL WE KNOW:

JUBILEE:

Happy birthday, Mr. Laughlin.  You and your friends increase our happiness more than you could imagine.  I’ve seen and heard it happen.

May your happiness increase.

“LOVE NEST”: TIM LAUGHLIN – CONNIE JONES at SAN DIEGO (Nov. 23, 2012)

Yes, this set begins with a farewell — but a rather cheerful one despite the woebegone title.  Just a wonderful band, caught in action at the 2012 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival (thanks to Paul Daspit as well as the musicians!) — Tim Laughlin, clarinet; Connie Jones, cornet and occasional vocal; Mike Pittsley, trombone; Chris Dawson, piano; Katie Cavera, guitar; Marty Eggers, string bass; Hal Smith, drums.

MAMA’S GONE, GOOD-BYE:

AUNT HAGAR’S BLUES:

DO YOU EVER THINK OF ME?:

IF YOU WERE THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD:

SOME OF THESE DAYS (a feature for that superb rhythm team):

LOVE NEST:

SLEEPY TIME DOWN SOUTH:

I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS:

DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO MISS NEW ORLEANS?:

Not exactly a Love Nest . . . more like a Love Fest.  I could go on at length about the virtues of the players and the delicious ensemble textures . . . but it’s all audible to anyone who cares to sit down and listen.  (It’s a Rolls-Royce of a band . . . but affordable!)

May your happiness increase.

“OLD-FASHIONED LOVE”: CHLOE FEORANZO, STEPHANIE TRICK, JOHN REYNOLDS, KATIE CAVERA at SAN DIEGO (Nov. 23, 2012)

Gender-neutral, cross-generational, child-friendly, organic, locally sourced, gluten-free, and hot: Chloe Feoranzo (clarinet); Stephanie Trick (piano); Katie Cavera (string bass); John Reynolds (guitar).  Recorded on November 23, 2012, at the San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Fest. . . !

OLD-FASHIONED LOVE:

CHINA BOY:

That’s the recent past.  How about a hint of what is expected for Thanksgiving 2013 in San Diego?  Here’s something to consider . . . with eagerness and old-fashioned love — the most recent list of artists invited to perform there:

If you are averse to clicking, I can tell you that I see Stephanie Trick and Paolo Alderighi, the Reynolds Brothers, Ray Skjelbred and his Cubs, Bob Schulz, High Sierra, Dave Bennett, Carl Sonny Leyland, Chloe Feoranzo,  Bob Draga, Glenn Crytzer, Grand Dominion, Jason Wanner . . . . and I know more swinging surprises are in store.

May your happiness increase.

“IT’S WONDERFUL”: TIM LAUGHLIN – CONNIE JONES at SAN DIEGO (Nov. 24, 2012)

Imagine a small jazz band — “flexible, wasteless,” as Whitney Balliett said of an ideal group: three horns, four rhythm: trumpet, trombone, clarinet, piano, acoustic rhythm guitar, acoustic string bass, drums.   Now imagine that this group easily brought a modern lyricism — singing melodies, inspired counterpoint in the ensembles, and a lightly swinging rhythm, combining (let us say) the 1938 Teddy Wilson small groups, the Basie rhythm section, Condon in the Fifties, New Orleans seasonings — echoes of Hackett, Fazola, Jo Jones, and more.

An impossible fantasy?  No, it exists — I saw this band at the much-missed Sweet and Hot Music Festival in 2011, and in San Diego both in 2012 and 2013.  Is the suspense too much?  It’s clarinetist Tim Laughlin’s band, with cornetist Connie Jones, trombonist Mike Pittsley, pianist Chris Dawson, string bassist Marty Eggers, guitarist Katie Cavera, and drummer Hal Smith.  And although I have too many “favorites” to place one group at the apex of my listening experiences, this band shines.  See and hear for yourself.

I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME:

KEEPIN’ OUT OF MISCHIEF NOW:

WANG WANG BLUES:

IT’S WONDERFUL:

PUTTIN’ ON THE RITZ (for that wonderful rhythm section):

AS LONG AS I LIVE:

Mike Pittsley’s solo turn on STARS FELL ON ALABAMA:

JAZZ ME BLUES:

Midway through their first set at the San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival, while I was taking notes on what I was recording, I wrote the word FLOATING on the top of the page.  I still think it’s an apt title for all the music this band created over the three days of the festival (eight sets) but IT’S WONDERFUL is completely apt for them, too — the comfortable feeling of warm elation one gets from hearing the Vic Dickenson Showcase, or Jazz Ultimate with Bobby Hackett and Jack Teagarden, or perhaps a Basie small group . . . you can name your own ideals.  For now, I’m just going to think it an immense blessing that this group could be assembled and that I could be in the same place to record it . . . for myself, for all of you.

May your happiness increase.

“I MUST HAVE IT”: YERBA BUENA STOMPERS at SAN DIEGO (Nov. 22, 2012)

The title phrase doesn’t refer to an illegal addiction, or the unquenchable desire for just one more cracker or chip.  It’s a King Oliver tune from his Victor period (1929-30) but here it sums up the fierce loyalties we feel about the Yerba Buena Stompers, captured on video one more time at the 2012 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival, or (now) the San Diego Jazz Fest.  They are Leon Oakley and Duke Heitger, trumpet; Tom Bartlett, trombone; Orange Kellin, clarinet; Conal Fowkes, piano; John Gill, banjo; Clint Baker, tuba; Kevin Dorn, drums.

I MUST HAVE IT:

John Gill explains the cultural history behind BIG CHIEF BATTLE AXE:

The reference in the title TOO TIGHT isn’t to a constricting piece of clothing, but to a Johnny Dodds record from the old days in Chicago — when the phrase was a term of deep approval:

My lantsman, Jelly Roll Morton’s classic, WOLVERINE BLUES.  (To find out why Jelly and I are distant kin, read this):

Marty Bloom’s MELANCHOLY:

RHYTHM CLUB STOMP, another Oliver recording, poses a linguistic mystery.  The subtitle (or original title in the Victor archives) was CURWISHIP GLIDE.  What, or whom, or where . . . was [a] CURWISHIP?  Inquiring minds want to know:

JUST A GIGOLO is Duke and the band’s tribute to Mister Strong.  We know handsome Duke is no gigolo, though:

May your happiness increase.

“HELLO, LOLA!”: GRAND DOMINION JAZZ BAND at SAN DIEGO (Nov. 22, 2012)

One can only imagine the circumstances that led to the titling of the first song in the Victor studios in 1929, but Lola was Pee Wee Russell’s girlfriend in the late Twenties and early Thirties.  Legend has it she was exceedingly jealous and showed it in remarkable ways: once cutting up all of her lover’s suits with a long sharp scissors.  (Maybe Lola said to Pee Wee, “If you really loved me, you would name a song after me and record it so that everyone could see my name on the label.”)

I doubt that Lola is with us today, or that anyone named Lola was in the audience at the 2012 San Diego Jazz Fest (formerly the Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival) but the Grand Dominion Jazz Band knows its social courtesies and said “Hello!” to the crowd through hot jazz.  The players here are leader Bob Pelland, piano; Clint Baker, trumpet; Gerry Green, reeds; Jim Armstrong, trombone; Hal Smith, drums; Mike Fay, bass; and Bill Dixon, banjo.  Any band that has Clint at the front and Hal at the back can’t get off course!

HELLO, LOLA!:

BOGALUSA STRUT (recalling Sam Morgan, who never had a pair of scissors):

PERDIDO STREET BLUES (another evocation of the Crescent City):

I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU (remembering Claude Hopkins and Alex Hill, both very willing individuals, eager to please):

Good manners in hot jazz.

May your happiness increase.

“NEW ORLEANS SHUFFLE”: YERBA BUENA STOMPERS at SAN DIEGO (Nov. 22, 2012)

For me, the 2012 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival — or whatever more informal name you might know it by, such as the San Diego Jazz Fest — started with a shuffle.  A Shuffle is a good thing when it’s created by the Yerba Buena Stompers, a band full of power and delicacy, deeply rooted in the great New Orleans traditions.

The heroes onstage are John Gill, banjo and vocals; Leon Oakley and Duke Heitger, trumpets; Tom Bartlett, trombone; Orange Kellin, clarinet; Conal Fowkes (Grammy-winner!), piano; Clint Baker, tuba; Kevin Dorn, drums.  (I have a special fondness for two-trumpet interplay: Leon and Duke light up the room.)

NEW ORLEANS SHUFFLE:

EVERY TUB:

PUT ON YOUR OLD GREY BONNET:

PERDIDO STREET BLUES:

MINSTRELS OF ANNIE STREET:

LONESOME BLUES:

It was a splendid way to start a most rewarding weekend — I look forward to spending Thanksgiving amidst jazz friends in San Diego this year!  Paul Daspit certainly knows how to make us feel thankful.

May your happiness increase.

BEAUTIFUL SOUNDS FILL THE AIR: SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST, November 21-25, 2012

My spirits are superbly high after a lovely long weekend at the San Diego Dixieland Thanksgiving Jazz Festival, now to be known as the San Diego Jazz Fest.

But first, an autobiographical digression.  Even though the mirror says otherwise, I still in some deep way think I am nineteen.  Nineteen can run from pleasure to pleasure; nineteen doesn’t need much sleep; ninteen will “be fine.”  I did achieve a major birthday recently (“I am no longer 45 but still some distance from 78” is all I will say) and I went to San Diego somewhat drained of energy and nurturing a noisy case of bronchitis.  I worry as I write this that many of my videos will have in the distance what sounds like a small terrier barking: that would be JAZZ LIVES with a cold, coughing.  (For my loving readers who worry — JAZZ LIVES will live to video another day.  I promise you.)

Because I felt physically awful, I saw and video-recorded fewer sets than I would have liked . . . fourteen or so over four days.  I spent more time sittin’ in the sun (to reference Irving Berlin) in hopes that it would make me feel better.

I’m still coughing a bit but I feel glorious because of the music.

Here I must bow low to that urbane and generous man Paul Daspit, who has a fine humane sense for the little dramas that explode beneath the surface of a large-scale enterprise such as this.  I am not sure how clearly most “jazz fans” understand how much work is involved in keeping a jazz party from self-destructing.  Of course I mean the simple business of having a comfortable space for musicians to perform and listeners to hear.  The Town and Country Convention Center, although it is mazelike by night and day, is exceedingly comfortable with a wide variety of performance spaces.

But a jazz festival is rather like a brightly-colored version of Noah’s Ark packed to the rafters with vigorous personalities.  The facilities need to be looked after: lighting and sound and chairs; doors need to be locked or unlocked; musicians need a safe place to stow instruments and (whisper it) a place to sit down in peace amidst their kind, breathe deeply, eat something.

There needs to be a well-organized corps of willing volunteers: at their most kind, they tell us how to get here or there, where the restrooms are; at their most severe, they say the icy words, “You cannot sit there.  You are not a ______.”  And the interloper flees.

The musicians, and no one can blame them, want to know where they will be sleeping, eating, playing.  The patrons have their own concerns, since each of us is occasionally an armchair general: “Why isn’t my favorite band (The Nirvana Street Joyboys) on the program this year?  Will they be here next year?  Why did the snack room run out of turkey sandwiches before I got here?  Have you seen my husband?  I left him here just a minute ago?  Why are the sets so long?  Why are the sets so short?  Why did you arrange it so that my two favorite bands are playing at the same time?  My eggs were cold at breakfast. . .” 

That Paul remains serene, amused, and kind is a great thing.  A lesser man might take up martial arts or retreat to his tent with earplugs.  He applies tact to the afflicted area; he knows what can be fixed and what cannot; he moves on to the next person who Must Speak To Him, whether the subject is hot jazz or the threat of sex trafficking at jazz festivals.

The San Diego extravaganza was bigger and better than ever.

There was a true panorama of musical sounds: walking from left to right or north to south, I could hear a small tubaish group with a woman singing that life is a cabaret; a big band walloping through SING SING SING; a Jerry Lee Lewis tribute; rollicking solo piano boogie woogie by Mister Layland; a Sunday-morning Dixieland “hymn-along,” another woman inciting the crowd to sing along with her on GOODY GOODY; young Miss Trick showing us her version of OLD-FASHIONED LOVE .

Imagine!   Two cornets are giving a properly ethnic flavor to ORIENTAL STRUT; in another room, someone is singing, “She’s got a shape like a ukulele.” In twenty-three hourlong solo piano sets, everything possible is being explored — Joplin to Bud Powell as well as James P. Johnson and Cripple Clarence Lofton.  Elsewhere a clarinetist is playing DIZZY SPELLS at a vertiginous pace; a small gypsy-jazz group is romping through MINOR SWING; Joe Oliver is still King in another venue . . . and more.  My weary math shows that there were over one hundred and eighty hours of music — although I, like everyone else, had to make hard choices.  If I stay here for the full hour of _________, then I will miss ____________.  Those choices were easy for me, because I didn’t have the energy to run around to catch fifteen minutes here and a half-hour there.  (Also, a tripod and a camera makes for an ungainly dance partner.)  So I saw / heard / delighted in less than ten percent of the jazz cornucopia here.

But — as Spencer Tracy says of Katharine Hepburn in ADAM’S RIB (I think) it was all cherce.

I saw a number of sets with my perennial favorites, the Reynolds Brothers, and they rocked the house, with and without guests.  The rocking down-home Yerba Buena Stompers (that’s John Gill, Leon Oakley, Duke Heitger, Orange Kellin, Tom Bartlett, Kevin Dorn, Conal Fowkes, Clint Baker) offered both I MUST HAVE IT and JUST A GIGOLO; Chloe Feoranzo had a sweetly giggly set with her young friends; Grand Dominion surged ahead in a most endearing way.  A dangerous (that’s a good thing) quartet of Carl Sonny Leyland, Clint (trumpet), Chloe (mostly on tenor), Marty Eggers (string bass), Jeff Hamilton (drums, just off the boat in the best way) played some deliciously greasy (also a good thing) music.

And I heard every note by the Tim Lauglin All-Stars with Connie Jones — and Hal Smith, Marty Eggers, Katie Cavera, Chris Dawson, Mike Pittsley.  They floated; they sang; they decorated the air with melodies.  People who like to trace such things would hear Teddy Wilson 1938, of the Bob Crosby Bobcats; Irving Fazola; the Basie rhythm section; the Condon Town Hall Concerts; Bobby Hackett; Abram Lincoln.  All I will say at this point is that if someone had come to me and said, “Your room has caught on fire and you must come with me now to save your clothes,” while the band was playing, I would have said, “Let me be.  I’ll deal with that when the set is over.  Can’t you see that Beauty is being made?”

You’ll hear and see some of this Beauty, I promise you.

Thanks to all the lovely people who made my experience so sweetly memorable.  The musicians!  Mr. Daspit.  Friends new and familiar: Sue, Juliet, Barbara Ann, Carol, Tom, Frank, Anna-Christine and Christer, Mary Helen, Rae Ann, Alene, Janie and Kevin, Donna . . . you know who you are.  I am grateful to people, some of whom remain anonymous, who rescued me when I needed it — Orlando the young bellman and two dozen other people — I hope that none of you went home coughing because of me.

Let us say you are thinking aloud to your partner,  “Sounds like fun.  Why weren’t we there, Honey?”  I leave the rest of that dialogue to you.  But there will be a 2013 San Diego Jazz Fest.  It will be the thirty-fourth, which is frankly amazing.  Same place (the Town and Country Resort and Convention Center): November 27 – December 1, 2013.  The invited bands include High Sierra, Bob Schulz’ Frisco Jazz Band; Reynolds Brothers; Paolo Alderighi; Stephanie Trick; Ray Skjelbred and his Cubs; Chloe Feoranzo; Glenn Crytzer; Katie Cavera; Dave Bennett . . . “and more to be announced.”  Click here for more information.

For me, all I can say is that before it was officially Autumn in New York, I searched for and bought a 2013 wall calendar I liked just for the purpose of planning my Pleasures . . . I’ve already marked off November 27 – December 1 with “SAN DIEGO.”  Carpe diem, dear friends.  See you there!

May your happiness increase.

I’M THANKFUL FOR HOT MUSIC (San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Festival, November 21-25, 2012)

My plans for the holiday weekend include very little turkey but plenty of hot jazz and good feeling — at the 33rd San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Festival.  The music begins Wednesday night (November 21) and goes breathlessly through until Sunday afternoon (November 25).  Here’s the tentative schedule, vibrating with good sounds.

Off the top of my head, I think of Ralf Reynolds, John Reynolds, Katie Cavera, John Gill, Duke Heitger, Tom Bartlett, Leon Oakley, Orange Kellin, Clint Baker, Conal Fowkes, Kevin Dorn, Hal Smith, Chris Dawson, Connie Jones, Mike Pittsley, Chloe Feoranzo, Stephanie Trick, Marty Eggers, Carl Sonny Leyland, Tim Laughlin, Lorraine Feather, Sue Fischer, Dave Bennett, Justin and Brandon Au, and about four dozen more bands and soloists.  Apologies to any of your favorites I’ve neglected to mention here . . . but the whole schedule is available for real or fantasy planning.

I feel immensely fortunate to be getting on a plane Thursday morning with San Diego as my eventual goal.  Look for me in the front row: notebook and pen, intently gazing into the viewfinder, aloha shirt . . . the JAZZ LIVES official regalia.  And for those of you who can’t make it, I will do my best to take you along through the magic of video.

So much to be thankful for!  More details here.

May your happiness increase.  

 

PLENTY TO BE THANKFUL FOR: THE 2012 SAN DIEGO JAZZ FEST

It’s terribly exciting.  Leave the family behind (there’s a Thanksgiving buffet on Thursday or you can eat leftovers when you get back).

Spend the Jazz Thanksgiving of your life in San Diego.

The festival schedule is still somewhat tentative, but the version I saw just made my head spin.  Paul Daspit, who runs things, believes in Too Much Of A Good Thing (to quote from Mae West and Coleman Hawkins).

On Friday, for instance, I counted sixty-nine or seventy separate sets — featuring Grand Dominion, the Reynolds Brothers, Yerba Buena Stompers, Sue Palmer, Cornet Chop Suey, Tim Laughlin / Connie Jones, Uptown Lowdown, Dave Bennett, Carl Sonny Leyland, Chris Dawson, Dave Bennett, Ray Templin, Stephanie Trick / Lorraine Feather, Heliotrope Ragtime Orchestra, Titanic Jazz Band, Red Skunk, a brass band, a banjo band, a parasol parade . . .

I know that this year I will have to bring energy bars and water just to survive, because even for someone like me, who needs regular meals, eating will have to wait.  I just wish Sir Isaac Newton had discovered some way for me to be in three places at the same time, although that would have meant three tripods, three cameras, and a separate suitcase for batteries and chargers!

If you live near San Diego or can get there, you can also barter your time and energy for jazz, which is never a bad bargain.  Volunteers for the San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival work four-hour shifts as door monitors or in a variety of desk jobs, receiving a one-day badge for each day worked and may volunteer for one up to all five days.  Badges are good for the entire day on the day worked, so come early, stay late, and enjoy the music.  Assignments are made on a first-come, first-served basis; however, preference is given to AFCDJS members.  All venues are on the grounds of the Town & Country Resort & Convention Center.  Click here (and don’t wait!) for more information.

May your happiness increase.  

GRATITUDE IN 4/4 (Part Eight): THE GRAND DOMINION JAZZ BAND at the 2011 SAN DIEGO THANKSGIVING DIXIELAND JAZZ FESTIVAL (thanks to Rae Ann Berry)

Here’s another helping of spicy gumbo from the Grand Dominion Jazz Band:  Bob Pelland, leader, piano; Clint Baker, trumpet, vocal; Jim Armstrong, trombone; Gerry Green, reeds; Bill Dixon, banjo; guest Marty Eggers, bass; Jeff Hamilton, drums.

Brought to you thanks to Paul Daspit, who combines organization, swing, and a sense of humor, and “SFRaeAnn,” Rae Ann Berry, who couldn’t be any deeper in the music without sitting in: visit her up-to-date list of hot jazz gigs in the area on www.sfraeann.com and her YouTube channel here.

I like a band what takes its time!  Here’s Ma Rainey’s JELLY BEAN BLUES with that deep gutty Twenties flavor:

Then, a stomping MY LITTLE GIRL with a vocal by Clint (a song new to me but surely not to the scholars in the JAZZ LIVES audience?) and a fine solo by guest Marty Eggers:

And another “new” song, BRIGHT STAR BLUES, which builds up a serious head of steam:

Hot music and unusual tunes — a fine combination platter!

GRATITUDE IN 4/4 (Part Seven):TIM LAUGHLIN – CONNIE JONES NEW ORLEANS ALL-STARS at the 2011 SAN DIEGO THANKSGIVING DIXIELAND JAZZ FESTIVAL (thanks to Rae Ann Berry)

“Tonation and phrasing,” Louis said.  “Let the people hear that lead,” Joe Oliver reminded him.

Both of those heroes would have been very pleased with the music created by this band — Tim, clarinet; Connie, trumpet; Bob Havens, trombone; Chris Dawson,piano; Katie Cavera, guitar; Marty Eggers, string bass; Hal Smith, drums — on November 27, 2011.

Here’s a sweet song with its own special niche in jazz history: Earl Hines was playing this one day in 1924 at the Chicago Musicians’ Union headquarters when a stocky young fellow with a cornet came in, unpacked it, and began to play — THE ONE I LOVE (Belongs To Somebody Else):

Bechet’s haunting SI TU VOIS MA MERE:

From Irving Berlin’s score for CALL ME MADAM, here’s THE BEST THING FOR YOU (Would Be Me):

Alas and alack!  MAMA’S GONE, GOODBYE:

Hey, Mister — STRIKE UP THE BAND:

YOU’LL NEVER KNOW was a romantic hit of the Second World War; here Bob Havens brings rhythm and romance to us:

A vocal feature for the least surly woman in Dixieland, Miss Katie Cavera, ANGRY:

And a seriously delicious investigation of the classic AUNT HAGAR’S BLUES:

All of this good music comes to us because of Paul Daspit, who made sure this weekend was a happy place for the players and the audience.And particular thanks go to “SFRaeAnn,” Rae Ann Berry, who works tirelessly for the music she loves: see her up-to-date list of hot jazz gigs in the area on www.sfraeann.com and her YouTube channel here.

WISHING WILL MAKE IT SO, PERHAPS?

I always remember how Wild Bill Davison responded to an audience member’s request that the band play a particular tune, “Get your own band!”  So I write what follows with some amusement and some hope.

I have been able to post some extraordinary videos from the 2011 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Festival thanks to Rae Ann Berry, and she hasn’t completely gotten down to the bottom of her hoard by any means.  But there is one set that has eluded both of us, and since the air seemed to be thick with video cameras at that festival, I am asking my readers to think of JAZZ LIVES kindly.

The set I am trying to find (and post) took place on Saturday night — around 9 PM.  It was originally scheduled as a Reynolds Brothers set, but word must have gotten around, as it does, and by the end of the whole glorious riotous enterprise, the quartet of John, Ralf, Marc, and Katie, had become an All-Star Orchestra, with visitors Brian Casserly, Jeff Hamilton, Tim Laughlin, Dawn Lambeth, Chloe Feoranzo, Peter Meijers, Howard Miyata, Bryan Shaw, Justin Au, Brandon Au, and Nik Snyder* — all on a tiny rectangular bandstand.

They played THREE LITTLE WORDS, FAT AND GREASY, I CRIED FOR YOU, an astonishing MY LITTLE BIMBO, and closed with ‘DEED I DO.

Did anyone capture this set, and (more importantly) are you willing to upload it to YouTube so that it can be posted here?  I would be eternally grateful — and if the music surfaces, other readers of JAZZ LIVES will truly understand why.

Imagine Bing and Eddie Lang working their way through PLEASE, and you’ll get the general idea of my current state of mind.

*Had Dave Frishberg been there, he could have created a wonderful song lyric from just those names alone.

GRATITUDE IN 4/4 (Part Six): THE UPTOWN LOWDOWN JAZZ BAND at the 2011 SAN DIEGO THANKSGIVING DIXIELAND JAZZ FESTIVAL (thanks to Rae Ann Berry)

Uptown and Lowdown . . . not only but also!  Recorded at the 2011 San Diego extravaganza on November 25, 2011.  Bert Barr, leader, cornet; Tom Jacobus, trombone; John Goodrich (on left), reeds; Paul Woltz, reeds; Rose Marie Barr, piano; Al Latourette, banjo; Paul Hagglund, tuba; Sue Fischer, drums.

The band has a diversified repertoire — and to prove it, here’s BOMBAY:

And how about a brisk BETWEEN THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP BLUE SEA that begins with an adept exposition of the melody by Paul Hagglund:

Paul Woltz gives the rather vindictive lyrics of GO BACK TO WHERE YOU STAYED LAST NIGHT a very cheerful reading:

Finally, here’s the theme song for all the eager videographers (including myself) in the JAZZ LIVES audience, I MUST HAVE IT — a performance that has special pleasures in Paul’s bass sax solo and the muted cornet / tuba duet:

As always, thanks to Paul Daspit, who assembled these sets into a very rewarding weekend.  More of the same to our own “SFRaeAnn,” Rae Ann Berry, whose reverence for the music comes through in her up-to-date list of hot jazz gigs in the area on www.sfraeann.com and her YouTube channel here.

GRATITUDE IN 4/4 (Part Five): THE KATIE CAVERA TRIO at the 2011 SAN DIEGO THANKSGIVING DIXIELAND JAZ FESTIVAL (thanks to Rae Ann Berry)

This is music both propulsive and soothing — and the experience was communal, as the audience joined in very sweetly.  The Katie Cavera Trio — Katie and John Gill on banjo and vocal, with the steadfastly swinging Marty Eggers on acoustic bass — were the opening act of the 2011 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival, and they set the right mood.  Affectionate, approachable, and fun — without being ashamed of any of those qualities.  Add a little vaudeville and some old-fashioned patriotism of a non-sectarian kind, and you have a very unassuming but rewarding interlude.

All of this was made possible by Paul Daspit, who brought these musicians together and made sure everyone on and off the stand was beaming. Thanks also to “SFRaeAnn,” Rae Ann Berry, who shares the music in her up-to-date list of hot jazz gigs in the area on www.sfraeann.com and her YouTube channel here.

Here’s a quartet of pastoral Americana with a distinct jazz flavor.  First, CAROLINA IN THE MORNING:

Then, two parts of a George M. Cohan medley — you’ll want to watch it all the way through to hear John become Jimmy Cagney, perfectly:

And YOU’RE A GRAND OLD FLAG — one or two of the little sisters here had learned the song in school and she belted it out:

A perennial (I might even have requested it?) by James P. Johnson — ONE HOUR, or, if you’re exacting, IF I COULD BE WITH YOU ONE HOUR TONIGHT where John suggests Louis, Jolson, and Bing in the nicest ways:

Thanks to Katie, John, Marty, Rae Ann, Paul, and the little girls!

GRATITUDE IN 4/4 (Part Three): GRAND DOMINION JAZZ BAND at the 2011 SAN DIEGO THANKSGIVING DIXIELAND JAZZ FESTIVAL (thanks to Rae Ann Berry)

More wonderful music from the 2011 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Festival, proving that gratitude is a year-round phenomenon.

Here are eight gratifying performances by the Grand Dominion Jazz Band, recorded on November 24-25, 2011, and made available for JAZZ LIVES through the generosity of Rae Ann Berry, whose handiwork can be seen in two places (if you don’t encounter her at a concert, gig, or jazz party): her up-to-date list of hot jazz gigs in the area on www.sfraeann.com and her YouTube channel here.

Grand Dominion is led by pianist Bob Pelland, and features our friend Clint Baker — the wonderfully fulfilling multi-instrumentalist — here on trumpet, with Jeff Hamilton on drums giving the band just the right kind of relaxed drive from his kit.  The other worthies are Mike Fay, string bass; Jim Armstrong, trombone and vocals; Gerry Green, reeds; Bill Dixon, banjo.

ALL THE GIRLS GO CRAZY ‘BOUT THE WAY I WALK had a less genteel title in its first incarnation, but this will do:

Still down in New Orleans, here’s the GRAVIER STREET BLUES, with Clint in a fine Mutt Carey mood:

ST. PHILIP STREET BREAKDOWN — recalling George Lewis — features Gerry Green and the rhythm section:

PANAMA (not “PANAMA RAG”) by William H. Tyers, gets a fine rocking treatment here, all of its strains treated respectfully and with heat:

WILD MAN BLUES reminds me of Red Allen’s 1957 version in its steady intensity — and that’s the highest compliment I can pay:

The New Orleanians — wherever they found themselves on the planet — liked to offer swinging versions of “pop tunes” for dancing, and INTO EACH LIFE SOME RAIN MUST FALL lends itself delightfully to this treatment, with fine solos after the sweet vocal:

Recalling the 1940 Decca session that paired Louis and Bechet, here’s a gutty PERDIDO STREET BLUES, with beautiful drumming from Jeff:

Asking the perennially nagging question, DO YOU EVER THINK OF ME? (and the answer is “Of course we do!):

Thanks to Paul Daspit and these glorious musicians.  More to come!

GRATITUDE IN 4/4 (Part Four): THE YERBA BUENA STOMPERS at the 2011 SAN DIEGO THANKSGIVING DIXIELAND JAZZ FESTIVAL (thanks to Rae Ann Berry)

Good for stompin’, to quote Oran Page.  Here’s some truly heartfelt hot jazz from the 2011 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival — thanks to Paul Daspit, who brought these glorious musicians together and made sure everyone on and off the stand was beaming, and more of the same to our own “SFRaeAnn,” Rae Ann Berry, whose devotion to the music sends it around the world in the very best ways: her up-to-date list of hot jazz gigs in the area on www.sfraeann.com and her YouTube channel here.

The Yerba Buena Stompers, led by banjoist / singer John Gill, improve the air whenever they play.  In this incarnation, recorded on November 24 and 25, 2011, in two sets, the YBS took its repertoire in part from the songs that Alan Adams — the late trombonist and San Diego festival director — loved to play.  Alan had good taste, and this is the way to be remembered!

In addition to Mister Gill, the band sported Kevin Dorn, drums; Conal Fowkes, piano; Clint Baker, tuba; Tom Bartlett, trombone; Orange Kellin, clarinet, and the brass superheroes Leon Oakley and Duke Heitger on cornet and trumpet, respectively.

Here’s MUSK(R)AT RAMBLE, played at the nice tempo it began its life at:

And that rocking lament, SOMEBODY STOLE MY GAL, explicated by Duke:

Another GAL, who stayed where she was, was Paul Dresser’s loyal MY GAL SAL:

A brisk exploration of WABASH BLUES:

One of the great early hit songs of the last century, ROSES OF PICARDY (again taken at such a sweet tempo — balancing Hot and Sentimental perfectly). The trumpet conversation after Orange’s solo is priceless:

Something for Johnny Dodds — circa 1926, Chicago — FLAT FOOT:

A less-known invitation to the dance from the Hot Five repertoire, with an inviting vocal by John — and dig the trumpet / cornet sound on the verse, and their colloquy after the vocal:

Finally, an evocation of Louis and Papa Joe, RIVERSIDE BLUES:

Come on and Stomp!

GRATITUDE IN 4/4 (Part Two): THE 2011 SAN DIEGO THANKSGIVING DIXIELAND FESTIVAL: THE REYNOLDS BROTHERS (with thanks to Rae Ann Berry)

More wonderful music from the 2011 San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Festival, proving that gratitude doesn’t require roast turkey.

Here are four delicious selections by the Reynolds Brothers, made available for JAZZ LIVES through the generosity of Rae Ann Berry, whose handiwork can be seen in two places (if you don’t encounter her at a concert, gig, or jazz party): her up-to-date list of hot jazz gigs in the area on www.sfraeann.com and her YouTube channel here.

The Reynolds Brothers Rhythm Rascals masquerade as the Ellis Island Boys when they’re at California Adventure Disney, but I just think of them as Katie Cavera, string bass and vocals; John Reynolds, guitar, banjo, vocals, and whistling; Ralf Reynolds, washboard, refereeing, and vocals; Marc Caparone, trumpet, vocals.  On this set the youthful Nik Snyder joined them on banjo, too.  And we had a splendid visit from Dawn Lambeth!

CHARLEY, MY BOY — with a neat vocal by Katie at a more leisurely tempo than usual, bringing out the song’s coy humor:

I GOTTA RIGHT TO SING THE BLUES showcased Dawn’s sweet singing — and she began with the verse, a rare treat.  Louis and Django smile on this performance, as well:

I’M COMIN’ VIRGINIA always summons up Bix –always a good thing. One audience member was audibly enthusiastic during this performance, and with good reason:

YES, SIR, THAT’S MY BABY adds young Mr. Snyder to the party — great fun (and catch Nik observing John intently):

Ready to launch!

Thanks to Paul Daspit and these glorious musicians.  More to come!

LOST AND FOUND (featuring GRAVITY, HUBRIS, and GENEROSITY)

A long narrative follows, but with a point — for patient readers.

I attended two jubilant jazz parties in November 2011: the Whitley Bay Classic Jazz Party in England; the San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Fest.  Both made me feel like a mountain goat with a video camera, leaping from one figurative musical peak to the next.  I came home from each with a small notebook, its pages filled with personnel and song titles, exclamation points and check marks.  I had recorded twenty-six sets at Whitley Bay, twenty at San Diego.  Since my camera in each case would not hold all the data I was gathering, I carefully transferred it to an external hard drive, one guaranteed for durability.  When I resumed ordinary life in December, that Western Digital drive had nearly four hundred videos on it, which I gazed upon in the same way the miser leers at his treasure in cartoons.  I knew that, come the end of the semester, I would begin to transfer the best performances for my readers.  Could any mishap befall this hoard of gigabytes?  Not to me, I assured myself.  I’m careful.  I know what I’m doing!

Readers even faintly aware of Greek tragedy will be aware of the concept of hubris, or pride unsupported by evidence. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Readers should know that I was not the lone videographer at these two festivals.  At Whitley Bay, my friendly colleagues were Elin Smith and Flemming Thorbye; at San Diego, the high priestess of West Coast hot jazz, Rae Ann Berry.  More about those focused people later.

Now on vacation, with a dining room table in someone else’s house a a makeshift video studio, I set up my tangle of wires and began to transfer the Whitley Bay material — and aimed the first performance at my friend Nancie Beaven, who holds the Hot Antic Jazz Band close to her very substantial heart.  The video had an ornate metal structure in the left of the frame, and it began with the usual HAJB “gab,” but I was pleased with it, as was Nancie:

But Chance comes into our lives, bringing along its sibling Accident, and cousin Gravity.  I tripped over the tangle of wires, not once, but twice, sending the plastic drive crashing to the floor, and when the wreckage was tidied up (superficially), the hard drive whined and blinked, but something in it had been wounded.  I remained calm and didn’t fume — for, after all, getting angry at yourself isn’t all that satisfying.  And I have been practicing my “acceptance” in light of several disappointments in the last few months.

What also tempered my emotions was that I could have prevented this debacle had I paid attention to the quiet counsel of Byron, my computer expert, who had said to me that everything I had on these hard drives and elsewhere should have a separate backup.  The thought made me nervous: I saw my apartment turning, even more, into a storage space for little black plastic boxes — no more clothing and goodbye food and dishes and pots! — in pursuit of data protection, but when the WD box hit the floor, I thought of just how right he had been.

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross spent her time characterizing stages that were much more serious, but I think she would have recognized something similar in the emotions I passed through when imagining the loss of what I had captured in those videos.  (Today a local computer expert told me that the drive was dead, and if I wanted to spend over a thousand dollars I could recover the data — a steep price to erase the incident.)  But I knew that I had not been the only person with a camera in the room, and I emailed my videoing-friends to ask if I had their permission to repost a selection of their videos, crediting them, on JAZZ LIVES.  They all generously said YES.  Because of them, my readers will experience some of the delights that we all did.

The morals?

1)  Generosity created results in generosity received.

2)  BACK UP YOUR DATA.  One never knows, do one?

I JUST FLEW IN FROM SAN DIEGO!

. . . and boy, are my arms tired!  But my ears are still full of wonderful music.  I don’t mean “San Diego” as a city, but the 32nd annual San Diego Thanksgiving Dixieland Jazz Festival, which began for me on last Thursday night and continued into the middle of Sunday afternoon.

Festivals and parties take on the personalities of their organizers, and this one benefited so much from Paul Daspit, who stepped in after the death of the much-loved trombonist Alan Adams.  Paul is tall, soft-spoken, carefully-dressed, usually sporting a nifty hat (no beanie with a propeller for this gent), and his demeanor is both calm and amused.  Even when he was dealing with a series of flooded hotel rooms, he seemed to know that getting all flurried would do him — and us — no good.  So it was a great delight to see Paul come in, savor the music with a quiet smile on his face, and move on to something else.  His generosity of spirit made it possible for me to attend, for the musicians to play their best.  By the way, when I asked Paul about this, he said he was only carrying on Alan’s philosophy: to establish a space where everyone would be so comfortable and easy that the music would flow out and around everyone.

And it did.  I am a devoted follower of a few bands — my heroes are the Reynolds Brothers and the Tim Laughlin-Connie Jones All-Stars, the Yerba Buena Stompers, High Sierra, as well as the individual musicians Clint Baker, Jeff Hamilton, Sue Fischer, Bryan Shaw, Dawn Lambeth, Hal Smith, Carl Sonny Leyland, Marty Eggers, Kevin Dorn, Marc Caparone, the amazing Paul Woltz, and a dozen others . . . but I looked at the schedule more than a dozen times and figured that if I had been able to see all the sets I’d wanted to, the number would have been more than fifty . . . not possible for one person.  Because the festival was unashamedly a cornucopia, with six or more bands playing at once in different venues, I would have had to be willing to run from the middle of one set to the middle of another, which I wasn’t willing to do.

Too many highlights, and I won’t list them here for fear of leaving something out that was good, better, best.  I think I liked the surprises, though: being outside the main building, coming back from dinner, and hearing a band — it turned out to be Grand Dominion — and recognizing, “My goodness!  That’s Clint Baker — on trumpet — beating out JOE LOUIS STOMP!”  Or, again, hearing music from afar of a small group, around 9 AM, working its way through MUSKRAT RAMBLE — with an absolutely spine-tingling trombone solo . . . none other than tne Saint of Dixieland, Uncle Howie Miyata, playing that thing.  I also had my spirits lifted by people who don’t play instruments, at least not professionally: Jane Lynch and husband Kevin; Allene Harding; Frank Selman; Susie Miyata, Yvonne and Bill Au, Brandon and Justin of the same lineage.  I got to sit between Jane, Laurie Whitlock, and Carol Andersen . . . fun times in SoCal!

I’ll be posting my videos in a few weeks (I have Whitley Bay to share with you) but would point out that my newly-mobile West Coast doppelganger Rae Ann Berry had her video camera, her tripod, and many batteries . . . and she’s already posted a great many videos which would warm the coldest day.

But I’ll just say that there was a Reynolds-Brothers-plus jam session on Saturday night . . . where fourteen musicians got onto a tiny bandstand to wail — and I don’t use that word lightly — on MY LITTLE BIMBO and DIGA DIGA DOO.  You could hear the angels stomping.

More to come . . . . but I have already made a mental space for Thanksgiving 2012.