Tag Archives: Sandy Williams

“I THOUGHT I HEARD”: November 1945

No blues lyrics that I know begin with “The mail carrier came today, and (s)he brought me good news,” but it happens to be the case.  Evidence herewith:

Once again, prowling eBay about ten days ago, I saw ten issues of Art Hodes’ THE JAZZ RECORD — a short-lived and wonderful magazine on sale — and I took money out of the  grandchildren’s retirement fund and splurged.  The issues were the prized possession of someone whose name I can’t quite read, and their original owner not only read them avidly, but had a cigarette in his hand . . . typical of the times.

I will in future offer selections — a concert review, or a letter to the editor complaining about varying prices for King Oliver Gennetts — but this is what caught my eye immediately, and the neighbors called to complain that my whimpering was upsetting the dogs in this apartment building.  You will understand why.

On the inside front cover, there is a print column titled I Thought I Heard . . . Buddy Bolden wasn’t audible in 1945, but his heirs and friends were certainly active in New York City.

Stuyvesant Casino, 2nd Ave. at 9th St. — Bunk Johnson’s New Orleans Band

Nick’s, 7th Ave. and 10th St. — Miff Mole and orchestra with [Bujie] Centobie, [Muggsy] Spanier, [Gene] Schroeder, George Hartman, bass, Joe Grauso.

Down Beat, 52nd St. — Art Tatum.

Onyx, 52nd St. — Roy Eldridge.

Three Deuces, 52nd St. — Slam Stewart, Erroll Garner, Hal West. 

Ryan’s, 52nd St. — Sol Yaged, clarinet; Danny Alvin, drums; Hank Duncan, piano.

Cafe Society Downtown, Sheridan Sq. — Benny Morton band, Cliff Jackson, piano.

Cafe Society Uptown, 58th St. — Ed Hall and band.

Spotlight, 52nd St. — Ben Webster.

Yes, Sol Yaged is still with us — the only survivor of those glorious days.

To keep the mellow mood going, here is twenty-nine minutes of Art Hodes and friends from those years.  Spot the typo, win a prize:

May your happiness increase!

WHERE THE QUALITY MEETS: CHARLIE HALLORAN AND THE “QUALITY SIX”

CHARLIE HALLORAN QUALITY SIX

It is possible I have clothing older than jazz trombonist Charlie Halloran, but I am thrilled to let you know about his CD, which contains some wonderful music.

The first thing you might notice about the disc’s cover above — leaving aside the energetic graphic design — is that it advertises a band rather than a soloist, and that is all to the good.  When you notice that Charlie has surrounded himself with people who have been making recordings longer than he has — their names follow this extended sentence — you know that he knows quality, as do they.

Who are those people surrounding Mister Halloran and his slide trombone? How about Tim Laughlin, clarinet; Steve Pistorius, piano; Tom Saunders, string bass; Charlie Fardella, trumpet; Walter Harris, drums; Jimbo Mathus, vocals.  I know half of this band personally, and even if I’d never heard the CD, their presence would be a living testament to their faith in Charlie and the sincerity and joyous wisdom of his music.

Back to the band and to the overall idea of this disc.  Since it is a band whose members embody an ensemble tradition in their work, something is always going on, even surreptitiously, throughout each of the tracks.  In fact, the music is dense with surprises: backgrounds behind a soloist, interesting ensemble modifications, a rhythm section that is part Second Line, part timeless Mainstream.  But everything has a fluid romping motion underneath it.

And each of the front-line players is perfectly poised, a distinctive voice, immediately recognizable.  I’d call the general aesthetic of this disc a modern version of hot lyricism.  The Quality 6 swings throughout — no tempo too slow or too fast for dancers — but every note has a particular singing quality. And Jimbo’s voice, tough-tender, is the perfect counterpart to the instrumental glories.

You’ll know that a great deal of music is marketed these days as “authentic” New Orleans.  I keep away from any debates on authenticity, but will say only that the music on this disc is not loud jive for the tourists, nor is it museum-safe reverent recreation.  It sounds like music, where the individuals are fully aware (in the most affectionate ways) of the tradition but know that their task on the planet is to express themselves — and that’s glorious.

The repertoire is another treat.  There are times in my life when a beautifully done JUST A CLOSER WALK WITH THEE has hit the spot, but I take a special pleasure from picking up a disc and seeing, “Wow, they’ve done that song?  I can’t wait to hear what they’ve done with it.”

The songs are:  In The Gloaming / Bouncing Around / St. Louis Cemetery Blues / Dreaming The Hours Away / The Ramble / Let’s Put Our Heads Together / Beautiful Dreamer / Memphis Blues / If We Never Meet Again / Weather Bird / June Night.

I asked Charlie for his thoughts on the repertoire, and he told me, “Most of these tunes are songs I’ve learned in the past 4 or 5 years and just don’t have the opportunity to play very often. Although, as I’m playing with these veterans more, that is starting to change.  I play Dreaming the Hours Away with Steve Pistorius pretty regularly and Tim has been calling If We Never Meet Again at the Palm Court recently. St. Louis Cemetery Blues is a Squirrel Nut Zippers song that we never played when the band was touring, so I really wanted to get that down and have Jimbo, the composer, sing it. I share his love of Stephen Foster, so I thought he would be perfect for Beautiful Dreamer, the arrangement and cadenza I ripped off a bootleg recording of Pops on the Ed Sullivan show via Ricky Riccardi. The Ramble is from those killer, Lawrence Brown heavy, recordings of the Paul Howard band. I get a kick out of how the song holds up to a New Orleans treatment. Bouncing Around I’d only ever played from the music with Orange Kellin’s band. I was trying to give it more just a raggy feel, how a band where not everybody could read might play it, half from memory, approximation. June Night I learned from Ed Polcer, Weather Bird I was thinking of those Jelly Roll trios as much as the Louis/Hines version.

A few more words about Charlie (someone who knows his history but is not condemned to repeat it).  The trombone is a delicious but devouring instrument, one that leads the incautious into acrobatics, self-parody, or restrictive styles. Charlie clearly knows the whole range of the instrument from Ory to the present, and although I hear echoes of other big-toned players from Quentin Jackson to Benny Morton to Sandy Williams to Teagarden, what I hear most is an affecting personal synthesis of the Past — operating gleefully and skillfully in the Present. (Did I say he was a wonderful ensemble trombonist, someone who knows how just the right harmony or the right epigram can add so much in just a few notes? And although he knows and can do a properly rough-hewn style, he loves melody and has a deep awareness of contemporary traditional jazz — which words should not scare anyone away.  Nothing is fake or faux or glaring here. It all sounds good.)

Enough words for the moment.

Here’s a minute with this amiable expert fellow:

Charlie’s biography, for those who like that thing, is here.

Here are two links to the music — and the music.  And of course, here’s Charlie’s Facebook page.

Young Mister H is not someone I greet at the beginning of his brilliant career.  He’s already living it, and his debut CD shows it beautifully.  The only fault I could find with this issue is that it isn’t a two-disc set.  And I do not write those words casually.

May your happiness increase!

RARE, UNIQUE, NICE (featuring LOUIS, LUCKY, BUNNY, BILLIE, HAWKINS, CLAUDE, ISRAEL, FLETCHER)

Delights from the eBay treasure chest . . . costly but surely unique.

This  is a concert program from the 1948 Nice Jazz Festival (notice that Louis and the All-Stars are billed as the Hot Five).  That would be enough in itself, but notice the autographs: Louis himself, Big Sid Catlett, Lucky Thompson, Jack Teagarden, Earl Hines, Barney Bigard, Arvell Shaw, Velma Middleton, Humphrey Lyttelton, Bob Wilber, Baby Dodds, Sammy Price, Sandy Williams, and more.

And here’s a picture (the eBay site has other close-ups):NICE FESTIVAL 1948 program 1But wait!  There’s more!

How about a copy of HOT  DISCOGRAPHY— signed by Billie Holiday, Bunny Berigan, Claude Jones, Coleman Hawkins, Fletcher Henderson, Buster Bennett, Israel Crosby . . . ?  No, I didn’t believe it, either.

But here is some evidence.  Even though the photographs are (perhaps intentionally?) blurry, the overall effect is dazzling:

Billie, once:

eBay BILLIE ONE

Billie, twice:

eBay BILLIE TWO

Claude Jones:

eBay CLAUDE JONES

Coleman Hawkins:

eBay HAWK

Buster Bennett:

ebay BUSTER BENNETT

Bunny Berigan:

eBay BUNNY

Fletcher Henderson:

eBay FLETCHER

Israel Crosby:

eBay ISRAEL

The Nice concert program obviously has a specific location in time and space.  The seller hasn’t said anything about this copy of HOT DISCOGRAPHY, but given the signatures, I suspect that its owner was at one time a Chicagoan . . . and you can guess when the signers took out their pens, at least by their death dates.

To me what is important here is that the owners of these artifacts not only loved the music but idolized the players and singers — so much so that having the seconds of personal contact needed to approach Lucky Thompson or Israel Crosby and ask for an autograph was worth the effort.  We benefit immensely from this kind of devotion.

Neither item is inexpensive, but the value here is immense.

May your happiness increase!

ANOTHER MINT JULEP, PLEASE!

mjjb-dosn-cd-cover

A new CD, DURHAM ON SATURDAY NIGHT, by the Mint Julep Jazz Band, featuring the excellent singer Laura Windley, is a honey.

The MJJB is a small hot group — well-versed in playing for dancers, so they set swinging tempos and stick to them.  Their ensemble work is beautifully precise without being stiff, and they really understand the subtle mysteries of swing rhythm.  And the solos are just fine: not only can these young folks energetically pretend that 1941 isn’t really gone, but they can launch their own inventive solos time after time.

One of their main inspirations is youthful Ella Fitzgerald and the small group out of Chick Webb’s band — The Savoy Eight — and they evoke that sound perfectly without turning out pale note-for-note copies of the records.  I heard evocations of Sandy Williams and Sidney Bechet, but also Al Grey and Howard McGhee.

The repertory also looks with affection at the Ellington small groups and Victor band, the Kirby Sextet, the Ink Spots, the Basie band of the same period (I really welcome hearing JIVE AT FIVE, and the MJJB swings it the best way.)

They also find rather obscure pop tunes — which work!: GET IT SOUTHERN STYLE, ONE GIRL AND TWO BOYS, and there’s a nifty original, MIAMI BOULEVARD.

The excellent young musicians on this disc are Lucian Cobb, trombone; Laura Windley, vocals and glockenspiel; Aaron Hill, alto saxophone / clarinet; Keenan McKenzie, tenor saxophone / clarinet; Jared Worford, guitar; Jim Ketch, trumpet; Jason Foureman, string bass; Aaron Tucker, drums.  They aren’t restricted to the world of 1937, but there are no excursions into Sonny Rollins on a Swing chart, if you know what I mean.

Those boys rock,” the folks at the Savoy would have said.

Laura Windley is a special pleasure.  Many youthful singers in the “swing dance” scene have memorized the gestures of their idols — listening to the records so many times that they can mimic those Vocalions — and they, women and men, dress beautifully.  But as singers they lack their own personalities.  All gown, no voice.

Laura’s got her own sweet style with a serious rhythmic underpinning: if she were handed a song she’d never heard before, she could do it convincingly without echoing anyone else.  Her rich voice reminded me of young Ella — that hopeful, wistful, asking-for-love quality — but she can turn corners at a fast tempo, as she proves on the CD’s closer, the band’s romping version of Lil Armstrong’s HARLEM ON SATURDAY NIGHT.

Here’s a small sample from a band-within-a-band:

Laura Windley (vocals), Lucian Cobb (trombone), Aaron Hill (tenor sax), Keenan McKenzie (sitting in on soprano sax), Aaron Tucker (drums), J.C. Martin (guitar), Peter Kimosh (bass).

What you will hear on the CD will convince you that — like Swing itself — the Mint Julep Jazz Band is here to stay.  And that is very reassuring news.

Visit them, hear more from their CD (it’s also available on iTunes and CD Baby), and follow them here.

May your happiness increase!

HOLY RELICS OF A GLORIOUS TIME

I mean no blasphemy.  Jazz fans will understand.

Some time ago, an eBay seller offered an autograph book for sale.

That rather ordinary exterior gave no hint of the marvels it contained: not someone’s schoolmates but the greatest players and singers — of the Swing Era and of all time.  Now individual pages are being offered for sale, and I thought that they would thrill JAZZ LIVES readers as they thrill me.  The owner of the book was “Joe,” residing in New York City and occasionally catching a band at a summer resort.  We know this because Joe was meticulous, dating his autograph “captures” at the bottom of the page.  Understandably, he didn’t know much about the lifespan of paper and put Scotch tape over some of the signatures, which might mean that the whole enterprise won’t last another fifty years — although the signatures (in fountain pen, black and colored pencil) have held up well.

Through these pages, if even for a moment, we can imagine what it might have been to be someone asking the greatest musicians, “Mr. Evans?”  “Miss Holiday?”  “Would you sign my book, please?”  And they did.  Here’s the beautiful part.

Let’s start at the top, with Louis and Red:

This page is fascinating — not only because Louis was already using green ink, or that we have evidence of the band’s “sweet” male singer, Sonny Woods, but for the prominence of trumpeter Henry “Red” Allen.  Listening to the studio recordings Louis made while Red was a sideman, it would be easy to believe the story that Red was invisible, stifled, taking a position that allowed him no creative outlet.  But the radio broadcasts that have come to light — from the Cotton Club and the Fleischmann’s Yeast radio program — prove that Red was given solo spots during the performance and that he was out front for the first set.  Yes, Red had been creating a series of exceptional Vocalion recordings for two years, but I suspect Joe had much to hear on this Saturday night at the Arcadia Ballroom.

Something completely different: composer / arranger Ferde Grofe on the same page with Judy Ellington, who sang with Charlie Barnet’s band:

Time for some joy:

Oh, take another!

Joe really knew what was going on: how many people sought out pianist / arranger / composer Lennie Hayton for an autograph:

A good cross-section of the 1938 Benny Goodman Orchestra — star pianists Teddy Wilson and Jess Stacy, saxophonists Vido Musso, Herman Shertzer, George Koenig, Art Rollini, as well as the trombonist Murray McEachern, guitarist Ben Heller, arranger Fred Norman, and mystery man Jesse Ralph:

Someone who gained a small portion of fame:

You’ll notice that Joe knew who the players were — or, if you like, he understood that the men and women who didn’t have their names on the marquee were the creators of the music he so enjoyed.  So the special pleasure of this book is in the tangible reminders of those musicians whose instrumental voices we know so well . . . but whose signatures we might never have seen.  An example — the heroes who played so well and devotedly in Chick Webb’s band: saxophonists Chauncey Houghton, “Louie” Jordan, Theodore McRae, Wayman Carver, bassist Beverley Peer, pianist Tommy Fulford, guitarist Bobby Johnson, trumpeters Mario Bauza, Bobby Stark, Taft Jordan, trombonists Nat Story, Sandy Williams . . . .Good Luck To You, indeed!

But one name is missing — the little King of the Savoy (subject of the wonderful new documentary, THE SAVOY KING — which is coming to the New York Film Festival at the end of September 2012 — more details to come):

Jimmie Lunceford and his men, among them drummer Jimmie Crawford, saxophonist Willie Smith, trumpeter Paul Webster:

saxophonists Joe Thomas and Austin Brown, Jas. Crawford (master of percussion), bassist Mose Allen, pianist Edwin Wilcox, and the little-known Much Luck and Best Wishes:

Blanche Calloway’s brother, the delightful Cab, and his bassist, the beloved Milt Hinton:

trumpeter irving Randolph and Doc Cheatham, drummer Leroy Maxey, pianist Bennie Payne, saxophonists Walter Thomas, Andrew Brown, “Bush,” or Garvin Bushell, and Chu Berry, and Cab himself:

Paul Whiteman’s lead trumpeter, Harry “Goldie” Goldfield, father of Don Goldie (a Teagarden colleague):

I can’t figure out all of the names, but this documents a band Wingy Manone had: vocalist Sally Sharon, pianist Joe Springer, Don Reid, Ray Benitez, R. F. Dominick, Chuck Johnson (?), saxophonist Ethan Rando (Doc?), Danny Viniello, guitarist Jack Le Maire, and one other:

Here are some names and a portrait that would not be hard to recognize.  The Duke, Ivie Anderson, Cootie Williams, Juan Tizol, Sonny Greer, Fred Guy, Barney Bigard, Freddie Jenkins, Rex Stewart, and either “Larry Brown,” squeezed for space, bottom right (I think):

And Lawrence Brown, Otto Hardwick, Harry Carney, Billy Taylor, and lead man Art Whetzel:

Calloway’s trombones, anyone?  De Priest Wheeler, Claude Jones, “Keg” Johnson, and trumpeter Lammar Wright:

Our man Bunny:

Don Redman’s wonderful band, in sections.  Edward Inge, Eugene Porter, Harvey Boone, Rupert Cole, saxophones:

The trumpets — Otis Johnson, Harold Baker, Reunald Jones, and bassist Bob Ysaguirre:

And the trombone section — Quentin Jackson, Gene Simon, Bennie Morton — plus the leader’s autograph and a signature that puzzles me right underneath.  Sidney Catlett was the drummer in this orchestra for a time in 1937, but that’s not him, and it isn’t pianist Don Kirkpatrick.  Research!: 

The rhythm section of the Claude Hopkins band — Claude, Abe Bolar, Edward P. (“Pete”) Jacobs, drums:

And some wonderful players from that band: Joe Jones (guitar, nort drums), trumpeters Shirley Clay, Jabbo Smith, Lincoln Mills; the singer Beverly White (someone Teddy Wilson thought better than Billie), saxophonists Bobby Sands, John Smith, Arville Harris, Happy Mitchner (?); trombonists Floyd Brady and my hero Vic Dickenson, whose signature stayed the same for forty years and more:

I suspect that this triple autograph is later . . . still fun:

If the next three don’t make you sit up very straight in your chair, we have a real problem.  Basie at Roseland, Oct. 12, 1937: Earle Warren, the Count himself, Billie, Buck Clayton, and Eddie Durham.  The signature of Paul Gonsalves clearly comes from a different occasion, and I imagine the conversation between Joe and Paul, who would have been very pleased to have his name on this page:

Miss Holiday, Mister Shaw, before they ever worked together ANY OLD TIME.  I’d call this JOYLAND, wouldn’t you?

And a truly swinging piece of paper, with the signatures of Walter Page, Lester Young, James Rushing, Bobby Moore, Herschel Evans, Ronald “Jack” Washington, Edward Lewis, Freddie Greene, Joe Jones, Bennie Morton . . . when giants walked the earth.

To view just one of these pages and find your way to the others, click here  – I’ll content myself with simple gleeful staring.  And since I began writing this post, the seller has put up another ten or more — Mary Lou Williams, Ina Ray Hutton, Clyde Hart, Roy Eldridge . . . astonishing!

May your happiness increase.

TIM LAUGHLIN, CONNIE JONES, CLINT BAKER, CHRIS DAWSON, RICHARD SIMON, DICK SHANAHAN at SWEET AND HOT 2011

I was eager to hear this band at the 2011 Sweet and Hot Music Festival in Los Angeles.  I always admire the playing of  Clint Baker (here on trombone), and pianist Chris Dawson is one of my heroes. 

The leader, clarinetist Tim Laughlin, I knew as an articulate student of Pete Fountain, and Connie Jones had impressed me for his partnership with the late Richard Sudhalter (they made a superb Stomp Off recording that eventually appeared on CD as CONNIE JONES AND DICK SUDHALTER: GET OUT AND GET UNDER THE MOON, CHR 70054).  In addition, Connie was chosen by Jack Teagarden, which says a great deal about his talent.  The Sweet and Hot ensemble was filled out with a variety of bassists and drummers; in this case Richard Simon (b) and Dick Shanahan (d).

But I wasn’t prepared for what I heard.  Laughlin reminded me of the much-missed Irving Fazola — that’s a great compliment — with his deep singing tone, his ability to turn corners without strain, his lovely phrasing (never a note too many), and his fine cheerful leadership, which translates to pretty, not-often-played songs at just-right tempos.

Connie was simply amazing: constructing Bobby Hackett-cloud castles with harmonies that were deep (beyond the formulaic) without calling attention to themselves, his tone glowing but with the occasional rough edge when appropriate; his approach to the instrument a seamless blending of singer, brass tubing, and song. 

Like Bob Barnard, Connie plays in a manner both casual and architectural: his solos combine solidity and airiness.  Although his tone has a sweetly human fragility, Connie always seems to know where he’s going, but nothing is ever mannered or predictable; his twists and turns surprise the musicians who stand alongside him.  I thought I heard echoes of Doc Cheatham’s lighter-than-air flights, but Connie obviously has all of this on his own — with a solid foundation of Louis.

Chris Dawson can make you think of Hines, of Wilson, of Waller or James P., but he never sounds derivative; his playing is so organic, his approach so easy, that he makes a four-bar introduction seem like a complete work of art.  What Chris does is hard work, but a Dawson solo is a piece of sleight-of-hand: it sounds easy, nonchalant.  And he makes subtle magic carpets out of his accompaniments without ever stealing the limelight from the soloist.  Like Jess Stacy in the Goodman band, you can’t help but listen to what he’s creating.

These three players constructed shimmering solos and neat ensemble parts — but a true New Orleans band needs some spice, some grit and funk — provided admirably by Clint on trombone, his tone huge, his phrases and exuberant attack suggesting a meeting at the bar of Higginbotham, Sandy Williams, and Dicky Wells.

Of Simon and Shanahan, I will reach back to the Sage, Albert Edwin Condon, and say that they did no one any harm.

Here are some shining moments from the first set I captured — on September 2, 2011.

I MAY BE WRONG is a 1934 classic (no one believed me when — at some point during the festival — I explained that the “speaker” in the song is blind . . . as I recall, which makes the lyrics understandable.  Research?) that usually leads to an easy glide, as it did here:

I’M SORRY I MADE YOU CRY (who says that men don’t apologize?) was a favorite of Jack Teagarden and remains one of Jon-Erik Kellso’s:

IT’S WONDERFUL, by Stuff Smith and Mitchell Parish, was first recorded by Louis and by Maxine Sullivan — but the version that most listeners know by heart comes from the Teagarden-Hackett COAST CONCERT (or COAST TO COAST) on Capitol, a treasure:

After such beauty, how about a little street music: if BEALE STREET could talk, it would sound like this:

Tim chose that old barbershop quartet favorite DOWN BY THE OLD MILL STREAM as his feature, and played it beautifully:

Clint looked surprised when the magic pointer came to him, and (after apologizing, needlessly) swashbuckled his way — playing and singing — through the eternal quesion, WHAT IS THIS THING CALLED LOVE? — his version owing more to Bubber Miley than to the Ritz-Carlton:

Another “wonderful tune,” the Gershwins’ S’WONDERFUL:

And the band reassembled for an unusual choice to close the set (rather than a stomp or a drum feature), WRAP YOUR TROUBLES IN DREAMS:

This band is happily distant from formulaic “Dixieland,” “New Orleans,” or “trad.”  They create beautiful melodies, they swing, and they listen to one another; the result is moving music.

IF DREAMS COME TRUE

P.S.  Last year, Tim’s band, with Connie and pianist John Sheridan, made a rewarding CD, just out.  Visit http://www.timlaughlin.com/music.htm for information (there’s also a documentary DVD about the making of the music): I recommend both!

TOO GOOD TO IGNORE: CONDON’S WEST: HAL SMITH and FRIENDS at SACRAMENTO (May 29, 2011)

I published this post slightly more than five years ago, and the music remains so delightful that I thought it would be a sin not to offer it to the eager public once again.

hal-6-2011

My title isn’t hyperbole.  For when the band hit the first four bars of LOVE IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER, I felt as if I had been time-and-space transported to the original Eddie Condon’s on West Third Street . . . even though I’d never been to the actual club.

This was the penultimate set I saw and recorded at the 2011 Sacramento Jazz Jubilee, and it was one of the high points.  I had been enjoying Hal Smith’s International Sextet through the Memorial Day weekend, but this version hit not one but many high notes.  The regulars were there in splendid form: Hal on drums, Katie Cavera on guitar and vocals; Anita Thomas on clarinet, alto, and vocals; Kim Cusack on clarinet, tenor, and vocals.  But Clint Baker had shifted from string bass to trombone (sounding incredibly like a gutty evocation of Sandy Williams and Jimmy Harrison, taking tremendous chances throughout), and Austin, Texas, native Ryan Gould played bass.  And — as a special treat — Bria Skonberg joined in on trumpet and vocal.

Here’s what happened.

Hal called LOVE IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER (always a pleasant thought), surely inspired by the memory of that famous Commodore session in 1938 with Pee Wee, Bobby, Brunis, Bud, Stacy, Condon, Shapiro, and Wettling: the 2011 band had a similar instrumentation and the same drive:

How about something rocking and multi-lingual for the charming Ms. Skonberg to sing and play — like BEI MIR BIS DU SCHOEN:

Something for our canine friends?  LOW DOWN DOG, featuring Carl Sonny Leyland, is reminiscent of both Big Joe Turner and Pete Johnson — a neat trick!

The next selection — deliciously low-down — poses a philosophical question.  When Katie Cavera sings and plays about SISTER KATE, is it meta-jazz, or M.C. Escher in swingtime?  Puzzle me that.  Anyway, it’s a wonderful performance complete with the tell-it-all verse:

Then a jazz gift from Hal and the band — a POSTCARD TO AUNT IDA, celebrating one of the warmest people we will ever know, Ida Melrose Shoufler of Farmer City, Illinois, the surviving child of Chicago piano legend Frank Melrose, a pianist, singer, and deep-down jazz fan herself — here’s Kim Cusack to tell us all that THERE’LL BE SOME CHANGES MADE.  Today!

Anita told us all how everything would be make-believe if love didn’t work, in IT’S ONLY A PAPER MOON:

Then, some hi-jinks.  Jazz and comedy have always gone together, even if Gunther Schuller sneered at “showmanship,” and what follows is hilarious impromptu choreography.  I don’t know which of the happily high-spirited players noticed that this was a two-camera setup (independently, Rae Ann Berry on the band’s right, myself on their left) and said, “Do something for the camera.  So you have Clint exuberantly singing DINAH while the rest of the band plays the most musical of musical chairs:

I’d like to see that video get international exposure: could we start the first (and last) JAZZ LIVES chain letter, where readers send this clip of DINAH to their friends?  The world needs more joy . . .

Finally, Bria sang and played her own version of LULU’S BACK IN TOWN to close off this exultantly satisfying performance:

It was a big auditorium, with advertisements for a Premier Active Adult Community behind the band, but it looked and sounded like the original Eddie Condon’s to me. . . .