Brought to you through the good offices of Rae Ann Berry, another brief trip to San Diego (November 27, 2009) to visit with the Yerba Buena Stompers.
Make yourself to home. Coffee? Campari? Seltzer?
A great deal of music strikes me as pleasant and competent, but I need to hear it only once. “That’s nice,” the mind says, “and now we can move on!” But some performances, whether subversively quiet or shouting, make me think, “I have to hear that again,” my reason for posting the three clips below.
This edition of the Yerba Buena Stompers is led by John Gill, banjo and vocal; Marty Eggers, piano; Clint Baker, tuba; Hal Smith, drums; Orange Kellin, clarinet; Tom Bartlett, trombone; Leon Oakley and Duke Heitger, trumpets. This band is my imagined version of what the Oliver band must have sounded like at the Lincoln Gardens: it has the same steady rock at medium tempos. And the sweet interplay between Leon and Duke is a visual metaphor for Papa Joe and Little Louis.
Oddly, two of these performances have to do with melancholy; the first, BROKEN PROMISES, comes from the Lu Watters book, and is a simple song — almost a country-and-western lament, but it sticks in the mind. Leon’s half-chorus (backed by Hal on the cymbal) is a delight. Unfortunately, we can’t see John singing, but he still comes through:
The other bit of sadness is MAMA’S GONE, GOODBYE, which starts with the verse, new to me.
When SFRaeAnn first posted this on YouTube, I started the clip and went some fifteen feet away to the kitchen. But the second instrumental chorus — a duet between Duke, part-muted, and Marty’s incisive piano, made me abandon the caffeine and come back to the monitor, delighted. No pyrotechnics but great skill!
The two performances made me think, not for the first time, about jazz musicians and singers who take the edge off of sad music (and lyrics) by raising the tempo, pushing the rhythm. When you’re thinking about your Hot Mama, who’s gone, or those Broken Promises, you can’t be quite so despairing if you’re tapping your foot. Billie Holiday and Teddy Wilson get credit for this — consider Billie’s acidly swinging TRAV’LIN’ ALL ALONE — but it was happening before either of them was born.
And there’s MY LITTLE BIMBO (Down On A Bamboo Isle), a Walter Donaldson song whose subject is cross-cultural adultery. Could I ignore a song that describes the sultry Love Object as having a “shape like a ukulele”? Joy abounds.