2. “Bugle disposition Rag”: Count Basie’s 1940 ensemble, featuring substance instrumentalist Lester Young, on a set this adornment never transcribed in the studio, on March 8, 1940. Personnel: author Clayton (tp, arr); Harry “Sweets” Edison, Al Killian, Ed adventurer (tp); Vic Dickenson, Dan Minor, Dicky author (tb); Tab adventurer (as, sop, arr); peer Warren (as); Lester Young, Buddy poet (ts); Jack pedagogue (as,bar); Count Basie (p); Freddie Green (g); director Page (b); Jo designer (d).
I know what Bessie Smith would have said about this! This excerpt came from www.flashnewsworld.com. and is its very own kind of jive. Brilliance comes through no matter what amiable violence is done to the language: Google translation has at least recognized that the men of the Basie band were adventurers, authors, designers, and poets. And what they played was always an adornment.
Posted in It's A Mystery, Jazz Titans, Jazz Worth Reading, Pay Attention!, The Things We Love
Tagged Bessie Smith, Bill Savory, Buck Clayton, Count Basie, Google, jazz blog, Jazz Lives, Jo Jones, Lester Young, Manglish, Michael Steinman, NEWSWEEK, the Savory collection, translation
This afternoon, I was putting some disorderly books in order. But this soon became less of a pastime, and when I encountered a paperback bio-discography of a versatile New York musician (who shall remain nameless) written by someone whose name was new to me, I took the opportunity to page through the discography.
There I found a listing for this musician — a concert he had played with, among others, Joe Venuti — and a song that struck me as a curiously fertile re-working of an old Dixieland classic:
THAT’S A PLANT.
Who could argue with this bit of emphatic nomenclature? The only thing that puzzles me is my tendency to imagine the scenario that led to this imaginative renaming. Did the author mishear or misread the title; although he had solid jazz credentials, was the song new to him? I can’t speculate — all I can do is enter it, with perennial admiration, into the Jazz Manglish Hall of Fame.
For those of you who have felt deprived . . .
I just received an email of the innocently self-promoting kind from a jazz artist who shall remain nameless. The email invited me to a performance by this musician at what was described as “New York’s longest running jazz club.”
At moments like this, I regret even more than ever that I am not skilled at drawing. Imagine! A jazz club, unutterably lengthened from the front entrance to the stage, moving more quickly than Roger Bannister, suitably attired in shorts and running shoes. Oh, the mind reels! And proofreading — obviously a skill with the same currency as ornamental napkin-folding.
Posted in Awful Sad, It's A Mystery, Jazz Worth Reading, Pay Attention!
Tagged jazz blog, jazz club, Jazz Lives, jazz manglish, Manglish, Michael Steinman, New York City, proofreading, Roger Bannister
Stride is such a triumph of instinct and athleticism that it always amazes me. Here’s a rare clip of the American pianist Joe Turner (not to be confused with Big Joe Turner) — who appeared in 1931 as one half of a duo backing the singer Adelaide Hall. The other pianist? A kid from Ohio named Tatum.
I love what I call Jazz Manglish — so James P.’s title, an admonitory KEEP OFF THE GRASS, is transformed here into KEEPING OUT OF THE GRASS, which is gentler and more descriptive, but hardly the same thing. We know what it means, though. And it seems as if stride demands a cigar — think of the Lion and James P. — although Fats got by with cigarettes. But he was Fats, of course.
Posted in "Thanks A Million", Swing You Cats!, The Real Thing, The Things We Love
Tagged Adelaide Hall, Art Tatum, Big Joe Turner, Dailymotion, Fats Waller, James P. Johnson, jazz blog, jazz in Europe, Jazz Lives, jazz on television, Joe Turner, Manglish, Michael Steinman, Stride piano, virtuoso, Willie "the Lion" Smith
While I was searching for the one film clip in which Dave Tough can be seen, I found this biography, reproduced here exactly as it appears on the web. Remarkable, ne c’est pas? Incidentally, I know just how difficult it is to speak or write correctly and gracefully in one language, let alone two. But the prose here goes beyond the starship Enterprise, I think.
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Dice its more young age, Dave Tough knows health issues. He suffers indeed from epilepsy. Dave Tough makes its beginning musical in 1925 in Austin High School Gang at the sides of Bud Freeman, Frank Teschmac her and Eddie Condon. He plays in some minor groups before making a round in Europe, in 1927-1928, with “New Yorkers”. In France, it occurs with Mezz Mezzrow. Of return to the the United States, he plays in the orchestra of Red Nichols (1928-1930). Between 1932 and 1935, its health issues oblige it to stop its career. In addition, Dave Tough drinks much, which is not to arrange the things and regularly will pose problems to him.
It takes again its career in 1936, playing successively in the orchestras of Tommy Dorsey (1936-1937, then at the end of 1938), Bunny Berigan (1938), Benny Goodman (1938), Joe Marsala (1939, then 1940-1941), Jack Teagarden (1940), Bud Freeman (1940), Artie Shaw (1941-1942), Charlie Spivak (1942), Woodie Hermann (1942). During the Second world war, he plays in a military jazz band depend on the “Navy” and directed by Artie Shaw (1942-1944). After war, one finds it at Woody Hermann (1944-1945), then again at Joe Marsala (1945-1946). Its health issues impose frequent cuts in its engagements to him. In 1946, it settles as musician “free lance” with New York. One can hear it accompanying Eddie Condon or the troop by JATP of Norman Granz. In 1947, it has its last engagements near Charlie Ventura, Bill Harris and finally Muggsy Spanier. At the end of 1947, it is neat in the “New Jersey Veterans’ hospital”. He dies of the continuations of an accidental fall.
Dave Tough was in addition chromiquor for the review “Metronome” and is the author of a method of battery. One can foresee it in the film “Earl Carroll Vanities” (1945).
Dave Tough was a fine and atypical beater. Whereas many its contemporaries (like Gene Krupa, for example) often devoted themselves to solos with the spectacular visual aspect, Dave Tough concentrated on the aspect ” accompaniment rythmique” instrument. Its play with the Balais was in particular particularly subtle.
One can read an excellent analysis of his style, in=2 0the pages which are devoted to him in the remarkable work “a History of the Battery Jazz. Volume 1” of Georges Paczinsky with the editions In addition to Mesure (1999).
- Biography with photographs.
© 2007-2008 speedlook.com; article text available under the terms of GFDL, from fr.wikipedia.org
I promise I don’t go looking for these things: they seek me out.
Verve Records has reissued Louis Armstrong’s 1951 Decca NEW ORLEANS NIGHTS, which features Jack Teagarden, Barney Bigard, Earl Hines, Arvell Shaw, and Cozy Cole.
One of the selections on this issue is that good old good one, “THE BUCKET’S GOT A WHOLE IN IT.”
What is there to say?
You know “Manglish.” It’s the menu entry, “Maryland Carb Cakes.”
Jazz Manglish is usually auditory: the young radio announcers who innocently do terrible damage to the names of musicians: “Barney Biggered,” “Paul White Man,” and the like.
Today I saw a notable example of Jazz Manglish in print. I won’t excoriate the writer, but he did it more than once. It was the name of the leader of the Arkestra: “SUN RAH.” I guess it was that old collegiate enthusiasm bursting forth. No other explanation.
If readers can top that one, I invite submissions.