Tag Archives: Robert Frost

THE SPECIAL FOR TODAY (AND FOREVERMORE)

What’s for dinner?

fish-supper-1738204

or, in another guise:

FISH FOR SUPPER 78

Notice the composer credits: drummer Jack Parker and trumpeter Joe Guy, who has gained deep posthumous fame for being married to Billie Holiday for a brief period.

But we’re here to have some music.  Music about food.  What could be better?

The YouTube algorithm has linked this performance to Ben Webster and Sonny Rollins, but such things are mere trifles.  Some listeners may move to dismiss this as a mere novelty, looking forward to rhythm and blues performances of thin material.  But if we can resist the urge to categorize and condescend, it’s audible that this little band swings more — vocally at the start — than many more famous ensembles do in their highest gear.

The song was first recorded in 1941 by Al Cooper’s Savoy Sultans — a recording I’ve  not heard.  This performance (one take only) is led by Hot Lips Page, whose delighted spirit is audible throughout: Lips, trumpet and vocal; Earl Bostic, Butch Hammond, alto saxophone; Don Byas, tenor saxophone; Clyde Hart, piano; Al Lucas, string bass; Jack Parker, drums:  September 29, 1944.

Now for eight bars of name-dropping.  Circa 1974, several friends and I were invited to visit Ruby Braff at his Riverdale apartment.  When I’m invited to a new place, I often look at the bookshelves and record collection.  Ruby had several dozen of the then new Chiaroscuro recording — live at the New School — of the quartet he and George Barnes led.  Leaning at an angle to the lowest bookshelf was an unsleeved copy of FISH FOR SUPPER on the 78 pictured above.

I am sure that Ruby admired the sound of that little band, the frolicsome energy of Lips Page.  Or perhaps he warmed to the poetry: “We ain’t got no menu / But our fish will send you,” worthy of Robert Frost at his best.

May your happiness increase!

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RARE DISCS FOR SALE

I find it soothing to visit eBay on a regular basis to see what’s for sale and to muse about it. 

Our topic for today is 78 rpm jazz records, which used to be the only kind until the early Fifties.  I was somewhat overwhelmed the profusion of them on eBay — 1,183 items!  Of course, some of them had no business being in that category — a Dutch hand organ record, Clyde McCoy picture discs, records by Dinah Shore, Xavier Cugat . . . but there were more than enough authentic jazz rarities to make my head spin.  Here are some remarkable ones:

78 1

The combination of the Gennett label and Earl Hines is a potent one.

78 3

When was the last time you saw a Jack Purvis 78 for sale?

78 6

Squirrel Ashcraft and the boys, when they were very youthful.

78 9

Eddie sang on this one and apologized later . . . but it has Tesch, Sullivan, and Krupa, too.

78 11

I think this is a song from an otherwise forgotten musical production; if memory serves, the other side is YOU HAVE MONEY, DON’T YOU? — a song title that doesn’t make my heart leap with anticipation.  I want to know what the record under this one is!

78 12

Early Barry Harris and Frank Foster in Detroit, on the NEW SONG label.

78 14

The other side of this Wardell Gray record is called THE TOUP, no kidding.

78 16

I believe, although perhaps incorrectly, that this record has an early Jess Stacy solo passage; at least he remembered playing with this band.  (The leader would say, “Are you ready, Kittens?”  And they would have to answer “Meow!”  The life of a working musician.)

78 Fats Japan

And finally . . . an eBay seller is offering a dozen Japanese Victor Fats Waller and his Rhythm records . . . for some exorbitant price.  Who knew that Fats had such a reputation in Japan?  Did that country enter the Second World War because they wanted Fats to play for them?  It’s a theory no one, as far as I know, has yet explored.

The larger social significance of this list might be summarized quickly.  78s are unplayable artifacts for almost everyone in this iPod era and they look like valuable antiques that will fetch pleasing prices.  But the economy has made many people look for things to sell that they would otherwise have held on to.  Better that these records get sold on eBay to enthusiasts who can play them, so the music doesn’t vanish entirely.  Who knows how many wonderful 78s get thrown out when collectors die?  “Provide, provide,” as Robert Frost wrote.

KELLSO’S SWEET RHYTHMS

Sweet rhythm captivates me,

Hot rhythm stimulates me,

Can’t help but swing, 

Swing it, brother, swing . . . .

Billie Holiday sang these words with the Basie band in 1937, and they came to mind this morning when I heard the good news:

Jon-Erik Kellso, Ehud Asherie, Kelly Friesen, and A.N. Other will be starting a potentially steady gig at Sweet Rhythm (88 Seventh Avenue South, New York, New York 10014, 212-255-3626, between Bleecker and Grove Streets) this Sunday, October 26, from 4 – 7.  A paltry $10 cover charge, an attractive menu.  (http://www.sweetrhythmny.com.) 

By 4 PM, most New Yorkers should have read all that’s fit to print in their Sunday Times, and they can bestir themselves to walk in that special late-afternoon autumnal light. 

The timing is right for other reasons.  Jazz musicians tend to be nocturnal, and noon is the middle of their night, so brunch sometimes seems like an affront to their senses: bright lights, people being unduly cheerful, the smell of eggs and bacon. 

And for the rest of us, those oppressed creatures Jo Jones called “the nine to fivers,” a Sunday night gig sometimes means feeling even more downtrodden when the alarm clock goes off at 5:45 on Monday morning. 

This seems just right.  I look forward to being both Stimulated and Captivated.  You come, too.

P.S.     Readers who know their New York jazz history will know that Sweet Rhythm used to be Sweet Basil, where (among other pleasures) Doc Cheatham did Sunday brunches for a long long time.  And he lived to be a vigorous jazz patriarch.  Maybe this site has some good anti-aging karma in its walls.

P.P.S.   In the name of accuracy — an hour after posting this blog, I remembered that Billie actually sang “Deep rhythm,” but I am not going to let evidence like that destroy my tenuous intellectual construction.  Kellso’s rhythms are deep, too.