Tag Archives: Spike Hughes

HEROES WITH FOUNTAIN PENS AND MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS

The eBay seller jgautographs continues to delight and astonish.  They (she? he?) have several thousand items for sale as I write this, for auction or at a fixed price, and even if the later items are unusual yet unsigned photographs, what they have to show us is plenty, from Jacquelie Kennedy Onassis’ stationery, a Playbill signed by Arthur Miller (DEATH OF A SALESMAN, of course), Joey Heatherton, Eleanor Roosevelt, Robert Redford, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Frederick Douglass, Stephen Sondheim, and more.  When people signed their name in cursive, and often before ballpoint pens were ubiquitous.

And did I mention they have jazz autographs for sale?  I remarked upon such wonders here and here about ten days ago.  I’ll leave it to you to search the thousands of items, but here are some of very definite jazz interest.  (This time, the seller is not showing the reverse of these signatures, as (s)he did earlier, so there is a slight air of mystery to these offerings.  But someone was hip.)

There must still be thousands of Tommy Dorsey signatures still circulating, but this one’s unusual: did TD sign it for a family friend, or for someone who asked what his middle name was?  I’ve not seen another like it, and the flourishes mark it as authentic.

Coleman Hawkins had gorgeous handwriting, which does not surprise me.  I have no idea if the signature and photograph are contemporaneous, though:

Someone who worked on and off with Hawk, including time in the Fletcher Henderson band and reunions in the 1956-7 period, my hero, Henry “Red” Allen:

and a signature rarely seen, Leon “Chu” Berry — also from the time when musicians not only signed their name but said what instrument they played:

So far, this post has been silent, but it would be cruel to not include the two small-group sides that bring together Hawk, Red, and Chu — under the leadership of Spike Hughes in 1933 (also including Sidney Catlett, Lawrence Lucie, Wayman Carver, Benny Carter, and Dicky Wells — truly all-star!

HOW COME YOU DO ME LIKE YOU DO?

SWEET SUE, JUST YOU (with a glorious Carver flute chorus):

Back to Chu Berry . . . he was playing in Cab Calloway’s band at the end of his life; in the trombone section was Tyree Glenn, who lived much longer (I saw him with Louis):

A star of that orchestra and a star in his own right, trumpeter Jonah Jones:

Here’s BROADWAY HOLDOVER, originally issued on the Staff label under Milt Hinton’s name, featuring Jonah, Tyree, Al Gibson, Dave Rivera, and J.C. Heard:

Our autograph collector friend also made it to a club where Pete Brown was playing — again, another signature rarely seen:

Pete, Tyree, Hilton Jefferson, Jerry Jerome, and Bernie Leighton join Joe Thomas for one of my favorite records, the Keynote YOU CAN DEPEND ON ME:

And (exciting for me) our collector made a trip to Nick’s in Greenwich Village, from whence the signatures of Pee Wee Russell and Miff Mole came.  Now, two musicians from the same schools of thought — the short-lived Rod Cless:

and trumpet hero Sterling Bose:

and because they have been so rare, here are the four sides by the Rod Cless Quartet with Bose, James P. Johnson, and Pops Foster on the Black and White label — I am told that the Black and White sides will be a Mosaic box set, which is fine news.  Here’s HAVE YOU EVER FELT THAT WAY? (with verse):

MAKE ME A PALLET ON THE FLOOR:

FROGGY MOORE:

and James P., brilliantly, on I KNOW THAT YOU KNOW:

If I could play clarinet, I would like to sound like Cless.

And a postscript of a personal nature: the auction ended a few minutes ago.  I bid on the Cless, the Pete Brown, the Bose, and on a whim (because I knew it would go for a high price) the Chu Berry.  Chu went for nearly $171; someone beat me by a dollar for Sterling Bose, but my bids — not exorbitant — won the Cless and Pete.  When they come in the mail, I envision a frame with Pee Wee, Rod, and Pete.  It will give me pleasure, and some years from now, it will give someone else pleasure also.

May your happiness increase!

NOT A HUNDRED YEARS FROM TODAY, BUT A MONTH: NOVEMBER 3-6, 2016

mike-durham-classic-jazz-party

Some of the faces will be different, but that scene is where I will be in less than a month — at the Mike Durham Classic Jazz Party in Newcastle, England. More details here.

Rather than launch some well-deserved paragraphs about how wonderful it is and how you should go if you can, I thought I’d let some videos from last year do the talking, and singing, and playing.

Spats Langham at the imaginary cinema of romance:

Richard Pite’s Gramercy Five:

Menno loves Spike, and Gabriel returns the compliment:

Thomas Winteler and Matthias Seuffert play the Fatha’s blues — but wait! — has young Master Ball made off with the spoons?

Keith’s heartbreaking entreaty:

 

The Sentimental Miss Day:

Rico’s Bar-B-Que:

Torstein Kubban and Frans Sjostrom in the Victory Pub:

Now you see why I am going?  I hope to see some JAZZ LIVES friends there as well.

May your happiness increase!

HOMAGE TO HUGHES: MENNO DAAMS and his ORCHESTRA at the MIKE DURHAM CLASSIC JAZZ PARTY (Nov. 7, 2015)

Before there was any discussion of “Third Stream Music,” jazz and classical shaking hands congenially, before Gil Evans or Gunther Schuller, there was Patrick “Spike” Hughes — British writer, composer, bassist — who visited the United States in 1933 for a memorable series of recordings that used the Benny Carter orchestra with guest stars Henry “Red” Allen and Coleman Hawkins.

SPIKE HUGHES

John Wright’s wonderfully detailed (and lively) biographical sketch of Spike can be found here.

FIREBIRD

Many of us have marveled at Spike’s 1933 recordings, which blend European compositional ideas with hot solos.  But it waited until 2015 for someone to put together an expert jazz orchestra to play transcriptions of those sides.  That someone is the magnificently talented Menno Daams.  (Bent Persson, Menno’s diligent trumpet colleague, also transcribed the Red Allen solos — as arduous as task as one could imagine).

ARABESQUE

This orchestra offered its tribute to Spike’s 1933 music at the November 2015 Mike Durham Classic Jazz Party, and I was fortunate enough to be sitting in front of this eloquent band.  Here are seven performances from this set: notice the shifting textures behind the soloists, and the soloists themselves.  If these compositions are new to you, notice their charming and surprising mixture of 1933 hot dance music, fervent soloing, and advanced harmonies: before we are a whole chorus into NOCTURNE, for example, we have the sense of a landscape both familiar and unsettling — even when absorbing this music in 2016.  There’s beautiful lyricism and a rocking 4/4 beat, but it’s as if, while you slept, someone has painted the walls of your living room different colors and nailed the kitchen cutlery to the ceiling.

I salute Menno for bringing this modernistic music to us, and the band for rendering it so superbly.  They are: Menno Daams, cornet; Bent Persson, Rico Tomasso, trumpet; Michael McQuaid, Claus Jacobi, Matthias Seuffert, Lars Frank, reeds; Kristoffer Kompen, Alistair Allan, Graham Hughes, trombone; Martin Litton, piano; Spats Langham, guitar / vocal; Henry Lemaire, string bass; Richard Pite, drums.

NOCTURNE:

AIR IN D FLAT:

SWEET SORROW BLUES:

FIREBIRD:

ARABESQUE:

DONEGAL CRADLE SONG:

SOMEONE STOLE GABRIEL’S  HORN (vocal Spats):

A personal note: I first heard the Spike Hughes sides in 1972, and they struck me as beautifully ambitious music.  The impression hasn’t faded.  But viewing and re-hearing Menno’s precise, swinging transcriptions and the band’s playing, I heard aspects of the music I’d not heard before, and even the listener new to this can find a thousand delights that grow more pleasing each time.  I think this set a magnificent accomplishment.  Only at the Mike Durham Classic Jazz Party could such marvelous undertakings find a home and an appreciative audience.  Join me there this November.

May your happiness increase!

IAN “SPIKE” MACKINTOSH by JIM GODBOLT

(This profile first appeared in JAZZ AT RONNIE SCOTT’S (May-June 1996) and was reprinted in JUST JAZZ (October 2004).  The editor of that excellent British traditional jazz magazine, Mike Murtagh, has made it available to me for this blog, knowing of my nearly obsessive interest in Spike.  More information about JUST JAZZ below.)

I don’t know many timber merchants, white, middle-class, educated at a public school, devout believers in private enterprise and private education, with the unshakeable belief that Tories had the divine right to rule, who were officers in the Tank Corps, who played jazz trumpet as near to Louis Armstrong as any white man of any nationality ever achieved.  In fact, I know of only one — Ian “Spike” Mackintosh, who died on January 18, 1996, aged 77.

He was a much loved man, although frequently, his arrival at sessions with trumpet in hand was cause for alarm.  It was no secret that he was very partial to a taste and after over-imbibing his playing was uncomfortably erratic.  At his best he could uplift a session; at his worst, he could reduce it to a shambles.

Short, dapper, with a military moustache and a Hooray Henry accent — a gentleman jazzman, you might say — he was the most unlikely carrier of the Armstrong torch.

Two other Spikes

Spike Mackintosh was born in London, on the 9 February 1918.  He attended the City of London School where he developed an interest in jazz and took up trumpet to emulate hero Louis Armstrong.  He admired the big black bands of the time — Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Fletcher Henderson, Chick Webb and Don Redman, and was particularly fond of the recordings by Spike Hughes and his Negro Orchestra.  He adopted the nickname ‘Spike’ as a mark of respect for the Anglo-Irishman who had travelled to New York in 1933 to make those historic recordings with a personnel that included Red Allen, Coleman Hawkins and Benny Carter.

Typically, he volunteered for the Army at the outbreak of war, was soon commissioned in the Royal Tank Corps and saw action in France.  Following Dunkirk, he was one of the few survivors of a troopship sunk by enemy action. He was picked up clutching his trumpet.  He was again in action at El Alemein. Commanding one of the tanks assembled to launch an attack that proved one of the most decisive of the war, Lt. Mackintosh received his order to advance, but at that moment was listening to West End Blues by Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five from a Forces station, and it was not until Louis had finished his majestic coda that Spike Gave his order.  Hitler — and Field Marshal Montgomery — could wait.  First things first with Spike.  His tank was knocked out by enemy fire, and German soldiers, believing him to be dead, stripped him of every possession, except his trumpet.

Later, in Naples, Spike was one of a team of judges for a dance band competition. One of the bands included Gunner Spike Milligan on trumpet.  Milligan, quite bitterly, recalled the contest in his ‘Where Have All The Bullets Gone?’ one of his very funny war memoirs.  He wrote, ‘The compère was Captain Philip Ridgeway.  He was as informed on dance bands as Mrs. Thatcher is on groin-clutching in the Outer Hebrides.  The other judges were Lt. Eddie Carroll and Lt. ‘Spike’ Mackintosh.  Can you believe it?  We didn’t win.  WE DIDN’T WIN! I wasn’t even mentioned!  Why were the 56 Area Welfare Services persecuting me like this? At the contest I heard shouts of “Give him the prize.”  No-one listened, even though I shouted it very loud.  Never mind, there would be other wars.’

On demobilisation, Spike Mackintosh returned to the family timber business and sat-in on jam sessions, at the height of the Traditionalists v Modernists war.  He had no liking for Be-bop, nor banjo-dominated revivalism.  He found his musical, and drinking company with the mainstreamers, most of them renegade traditionalists.  One of these was clarinetist / cartoonist Wally ‘Trog’ Fawkes, leading his Trogdolytes.  They recorded some twenty excellent sides for the Decca label on which Mackintosh proved just how much he had absorbed the essence as well as the phraseology of Armstrong.  On some of these sessions the Trogdolytes were joined by ‘modernists’ Eddie Taylor (drums), ex-Johnny Dankworth Seven, and Lennie Bush (bass), a founder-member of the seminal Club Eleven where British Be-bop started.

Spike was equally authoritative at a private party session in the company of veteran US saxophonist Bud Freeman, the set captured on portable equipment. He was not the least bit in awe of his distinguished session mate.

Wild Bill Davison

But he was not a consistent performer.  On one occasion he moved, uninvited, to sit-in with a band led by the brilliant Welsh pianist, Dill Jones.  Jones, himself no stranger to the juice, perceived Spike’s condition and turned him away. Undeterred, Spike made his contribution from a seat in the audience.  He had his insensitive side.  He was at a party given in honour of the white US trumpeter, Wild Bill Davison, and the tactful Mackintosh said to Davison, “Ah, Wild Bill, my fourth favourite trumpeter.”  “Oh, yes,” growled Davison, “and who are the other three?” Mackintosh replied, “Louis Armstrong, Cootie Williams, Red Allen and Roy Eldridge.  No — you’re my fifth favourite!”

Spike ran a weekly record session at the one-bar Drum and Monkey, Blenheim Terrace, St. John’s Wood, NW London, his fellow enthusiasts including Jack Hutton, ex-editor of the ‘Melody Maker,’ clarinetist Ian Christie, trombonist Mike Pointon, and pianist Stan Greig, dubbing themselves The Codgers. The rest of the clientele, whether they liked it or not, had their ‘quiet drink’ shattered by Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Mills’ Blue Rhythm Band and the like, at a mind-blowing volume.  They were also regaled with Spike vocally duplicating Armstrong’s singing and playing.  The irrepressible enthusiast!  The landlord approved.  His takings shot up at those sessions.

When Spike turned up at Ronnie [Scott]’s, the eponymous Mr. Scott was treated to Spike singing (or, rather playing) Louis phrases.  In face, Ronnie used to do an imitation of Spike imitating Louis.  Not many people know that.

Spike continued playing trumpet almost up until his death, along with Wally Fawkes at the King Alfred, Marylebone Lane, West London.  His thirst remained undiminished, and his ‘lip’ often faltered, but on his good nights the stirring resonances of Armstrong licks sang throughout the pub and beyond.

One of the familiar spectacles of these sessions was pianist Greig, with a tense expression on his craggy features, his hands anxiously poised over the keys waiting to plunge them down for the resolving chord(s) to bring a Mackintosh coda spectacular to a triumphant finish, and when it finally happened there was a great sigh of relief from musicians and audience.  Not that all of these finishes came off.  Spike’s cliff-hangers were fraught occasions.

He was indeed a combination of the opposites; the reiterative soak and erratic trumpeter when too deep in his cups; the amusing companion and fine player when he’d paced himself; the High Tory who was one of the chaps.

Shouldn’t that child be in bed?

There are hundreds of stories about Spike, some of them undoubtedly apocryphal.  One of them about him, totally legless, being apprehended by a policeman and solemnly telling the officer, in that public school posh voice of his, that any unsteadiness was due to a war injury, but my favourite tale concerned him at a party given by Wally Fawkes.  Spike, well loaded, fell against a bamboo room divider, bringing down the ornaments with a tremendous clatter.  The noise awakened Joanna Fawkes, then about five, and, in tears, she stood at the top of the stairs leading to the drawing room.  Spike, wiping bits of Italian pottery and trailus acanthus from his person, looked up, and said, “Wally, it’s none of my business, but shouldn’t that child be in bed?”

I can vouch for that tale.  I was there.

He is survived by his wife Diana, and three sons, Nick, Robert and Cameron, the latter a famous theatrical impresario.

=======================================================

Spike’s glorious sound:

and

Of course, if any UK collector or Bud Freeman fancier can unearth a copy of that private party tape, I know I would be interested in hearing it.  Spike must have been captured live somewhere, sometime, but so far no holy relics have emerged.

About JUST JAZZ: it’s a well-written, candid magazine devoted to traditional jazz in all its forms.  The editor is Mike Murtagh, and the offices are at 29 Burrage Place, Woolwich, London SE18 7BG.  I haven’t found an official website, but you can contact Mike at justjazzmagazine@btinternet.com. to inquire about subscription rates.

May your happiness increase!

WITH POWER TO SPARE: LIONEL HAMPTON AND HIS ORCHESTRA (1947-48)

The publishers of the Dutch jazz magazine and CD label DOCTOR JAZZ don’t overwhelm us with issues, but what they offer is rare and astonishing. First, they offered  a two-CD set, DINNERTIME FOR HUNGRY COLLECTORS, which contained previously unheard Louis Armstrong, Count Basie, Lester Young; Don Redman and Cab Calloway soundtracks from Max Fleischer cartoons; Lionel Hampton on the air; Jimmie Lunceford transcriptions; unissued alternate takes featuring Frank Newton, Bobby Hackett, Adrian Rollini, “The Three Spades,” Spike Hughes with Jimmy Dorsey / Muggsy Spanier; Charlie Barnet; Earl Hines; Mildred Bailey with the Dorsey Brothers; Frank Trumbauer; Joe Venuti; Bing Crosby, Ella Fitzgerald; Paul Whiteman; Jack Teagarden; Bob Crosby featuring Jess Stacy; Billie Holiday; Raymond Scott Quintette; Benny Carter and Coleman Hawkins in Europe.

Lionel-Hampton-cd-cover-1024

Their new issue, “THAT’S MY DESIRE,” is exclusively focused on the 1947-48 Lionel Hampton big band, and offers seventy-nine minutes of previously unheard (and unknown) aircheck material. Eighteen of the performances come from November 2-30, 1947, at the Meadowbrook in Culver City, California; the remaining four originate from the Fairmont in West Virginia, on June 29, 1948.

The songs are RED TOP / THAT’S MY DESIRE / HAWK’S NEST / VIBE BOOGIE / MUCHACHOS AZUL (BLUE BOY) / GOLDWYN STOMP / LONELINESS / HAMP’S GOT A DUKE / MIDNIGHT SUN / GOLDWYN STOMP #2 / MINGUS FINGERS / OH, LADY BE GOOD / RED TOP #2 / CHIBABA CHIBABA (My Bambino Go To Sleep) / ADAM BLEW HIS HAT / I’M TELLING YOU SAM / PLAYBOY / GIDDY UP / ALWAYS / DON’T BLAME ME / HOW HIGH THE MOON / ADAM BLEW HIS HAT #2

These are newly discovered airchecks, and Doctor Jazz tells us, “In this period the band was musically very creative and a tight musical aggregation. The Hampton band was one of the top jazz bands in business. In this version we hear a young Charles Mingus performing his ‘Mingus Fingers’. We don’t know who recorded these acetates, but our ‘recording man’ was very active at that time (1947-1948). He recorded a lot from the radio and may have had some other sources where he could dub then rare recordings. In 2013 a building contractor worked on an old abandoned Hollywood house in the Hollywood Hills and discovered a storage area that was walled off and filled with several wrapped boxes of acetate records. Among them these Hampton acetates. They are now carefully restored by Harry Coster and released for the first time. The CD contains a booklet of 32 pages including photos and a discography.”

Collectors who know airchecks — performances recorded live from the radio or eventually television — savor the extended length and greater freedom than a band would find in commercial recordings of the time. And the sound is surprisingly good for 1947-48, so the string bass of Charles Mingus comes through powerfully on every cut even when he or the rhythm section is not soloing. Another young man making a name for himself at the time is guitarist Wes Montgomery, and the West Virginia HOW HIGH THE MOON is a quartet of Hampton, Mingus, Wes, and pianist Milt Buckner (although Wes does not solo on it). Other luminaries are trombonist Britt Woodman, trumpeter Teddy Buckner; tenor saxophonists Johnny Sparrow, Morris Lane, and clarinetist Jack Kelso take extended solos as well.

The Hampton aggregation, typically, was a powerful one. If the Thirties and early Forties Basie band aimed to have the feeling of a small band, Hampton’s impulses led in the other direction, and even in these off-the-air recordings, the band is impressive in its force and sonic effect. Hampton tended to solo at length, although his solos in this period are more melodic and less relentless than they eventually became. The rhythm section is anchored by a powerful drum presence, often a shuffle or back-beat from Walker.

It is not a subtle or a soothing band, although there are a number of ballad features. What I hear — and what might be most intriguing for many — is a jazz ensemble attempting to bridge the gap between “jazz” and “rhythm and blues” or what sounds like early rock ‘n’ roll. Clearly the band was playing for large audiences of active dancers, so this shaped Hampton’s repertoire and approach. It is music to make an audience move, with pop tunes new and old, jump blues, boogie-woogie, high-note trumpets, honking saxophones, and energy throughout. As a soloist, Hampton relies more on energy than on inventiveness, and his playing occasionally falls back on familiar arpeggiated chords, familiar gestures. He is admirable because he fit in with so many contexts over nearly seventy years of playing and recording — from Paul Howard in 1929 to the end of the century — but his style was greatly set in his earliest appearances, although he would add a larger harmonic spectrum to his work.

The Meadowbrook personnel (although labeled “probably”) includes Wendell Culley, Teddy Buckner, Duke Garrette, Leo Shepherd, Walter Williams or possibly Snooky Young, trumpet; James Robinson, Andrew Penn, Jimmy Wormick, Britt Woodman, trombone; Jack Kelso or Kelson, clarinet; Bobby Plater, Ben Kynard, Morris Lane, John Sparrow, Charlie Fowlkes, saxophones; Milt Buckner, piano; Charles Mingus, string bass (Joe Comfort or Charles Harris may also be present); Earl Walker, drums; Wini Brown, Herman McCoy, Roland Burton, the Hamptones, vocals.

For the 1948 West Virginia airchecks, Jimmy Nottingham is the fifth trumpet; Lester Bass, bass trumpet; the trombones are Woodman, Wormick, and Sonny Craven; the reeds are Kynard, Plater, Billy “Smallwood” Williams, Sparrow, Fowlkes, with the same rhythm section.

The good people at Doctor Jazz don’t offer sound samples, but having purchased a few of their earlier issues, I can say that their production is splendid in every way: sound reproduction of unique issues, documentation, discography, and photographs. So if you know the Hampton studio recordings of this period and the few airshots that have surfaced, you will have a good idea of what awaits on this issue — but the disc is full of energetic surprises.

May your happiness increase!

HOTTER THAN THAT: HENRY “RED” ALLEN AND FRIENDS, 1932-33

Thanks to the indefatigable jazz scholar Franz Hoffmann, here are four hot records featuring Henry “Red” Allen and Pee Wee Russell, Fats Waller, Tommy Dorsey, Eddie Condon, Zutty Singleton, among others.  The band name was the RHYTHMAKERS and Philip Larkin was not alone in thinking this series of hot records the apex of Western civilization.  You can see a variety of 78 record labels and photographs and read the personnel in Franz’s videos, but the real substance is the joyous music, unbridled but expert. 

OH, PETER:

YES SUH!:

SOMEONE STOLE GABRIEL’S HORN:

And an amazing 1933 jam-session-on-record on SWEET SUE, under the nominal leadership of UK composer / string bassist Spike Hughes — the participants are Allen, Dicky Wells, Coleman Hawkins, Chu Berry, Benny Carter, Wayman Carver (flute), Nicholas Rodriguez, Lawrence Lucie, and Sidney Catlett —

May your happiness increase.

BIX LUNCH !

hmv

Here’s a wonderful review of the two-CD set THE INFLUENCE OF BIX BEIDERBECKE, which collects rare American and European records — made while Bix was alive — that show how deeply he affected musicians worldwide.

I am reprinting this courtesy of its source, the magazine VINTAGE JAZZ MART (www.vjm.biz) and through the gracious permission of its jazz scholar / editor Mark Berresford.  Readers of this blog will find the VJM site and the magazine itself both highly rewarding.  I am also very pleased to be able to reprint this review by Rob Rothberg, who knows the music deeply.

2 CD SET: THE INFLUENCE OF BIX BEIDERBECKE. Jass Masters JMS1001. Available from Jass Masters, 71 Chalk Hill, Watford WD19 4DA, England. www.bixbeiderbecke.com. £15, E20 or $30 including p+p.

In the September 1932 issue of ‘Rhythm’ magazine, Hoagy Carmichael wrote that Bix Beiderbecke’s cornet solos were “food for plenty of thought” and “something the younger generation can study for ideas even in composition.” In the wake of Bix’s death in 1931, Hoagy lamented that the “almost total lack of recognition of one such as Bix is beyond my understanding.”

But Bix’s influence on other musicians began early on and spread widely – even to Europe, despite the fact that Bix himself never set foot there. In the two-CD set “The Influence of Bix Beiderbecke,” Nick Dellow and his associates set out to demonstrate Bix’s influence during his lifetime through 51 rare recordings principally from 1924 through 1931, a period that roughly encompasses Bix’s brief recording career.

Volume 1 concentrates on American recordings, starting with George Olsen’s 1924 recording of You’ll Never Get to Heaven With Those Eyes, on which Red Nichols interpolates Bix’s solo from the Wolverines’ recording of Jazz Me Blues, recorded four months earlier. This early replication of a recorded Bix solo on another musician’s recording was not an isolated event; the California Ramblers’ record of Tiger Rag is another example, re-enacting Bix’s solo from the Wolverines’ record.

More interesting is the way in which Bix’s contemporaries absorbed aspects of Bix’s style and created something of their own. Sterling Bose emulates the bell-like tone and driving lead of the Wolverines-era Bix (including a break taken from the master’s record of Davenport Blues) on the Arcadian Serenaders’ The Co-Ed, recorded after the Serenaders had begun playing opposite Trumbauer’s band with Bix at the Arcadia Ballroom in St. Louis. Jimmy McPartland gives us a rough-sounding, scrappy version of Bix on the Original Wolverines’ A Good Man is Hard to Find, McKenzie/Condon Chicagoans’ Liza, and the Hotsy Totsy Gang’s Out Where the Blues Begin (on which he stays too close to the melody for my taste). Andy Secrest’s ability to sound like his bandmate is well known, and he sounds so good on the Mason-Dixon Orchestra’s Alabammy Snow that Max Easterman wonders if Bix is present, as a soloist or otherwise. (I think Secrest is underrated, but I don’t hear the pride of Davenport soloing or in the ensemble.) The softer-toned Bob Mayhew blows up a Bixian storm on The Eyes of Texas by the Carolina Club Orchestra and on Broadway Rose by Dick McDonough (or is it Mickey Bloom?), the last from an unissued test pressing with great sound. Red Nichols evokes Bix beautifully and without copying on Crazy Rhythm with Miff Mole’s Molers. Dub Schoffner, who evidently was far away from the microphone for the Casa Loma Orchestra’s Little Did I Know, displays some Bixian phrasing in a Gene Gifford arrangement clearly influenced by Bill Challis.

Manny Klein, the Zelig of jazz trumpet, is heard on Lou Raderman’s Why Do I Love You (Bixian tone, but too many notes for Bix) and on Bill Challis’s arrangement of The Blue Room, written for the Goldkette band but not recorded until this 1933 version by the Dorsey Brothers, on which Klein evokes both Bix (in the opening phrases) and Bunny Berigan in a derby-muted solo. The technically-accomplished Klein is almost certainly the creative, confident player behind the derby on Roger Wolfe Kahn’s When a Woman Loves a Man as well.

In addition, Volume 1 gives us territory bands, including Perley Breed’s Shepard Colonial Orchestra (Where’s My Sweetie Hiding), Jimmy Joy’s St. Anthony Hotel Orchestra (Riverboat Shuffle), Hitch’s Happy Harmonists (Cataract Rag Blues), and Marion McKay’s Orchestra (Doo Wacka Doo). Fred Gardner’s Texas University Troubadours display admirable drive on Papa’s Gone and No Trumps, and their trumpeter Tom Howell shows a Bixian lilt and a large, lovely sound (albeit with some technical insecurity). Andrew Aiona’s Novelty Four, whose identity is a discographical mystery, gives us Hula Girl, which will have you imagining Trumbauer’s band transplanted to the beach at Waikiki.

Along the way, we hear Bix’s influence on Jimmy Dorsey, on alto (the California Ramblers’ Davenport Blues) and clarinet (the Original Memphis Five’s Jazz Me Blues). Even players not known for sounding Bixian get into the act, such as Tommy Gott on the Jazz Pilots’ Wedding Bells, on which an unidentified scat singer channels the spirit of Harry Barris.

You’ll want to listen with Max Easterman’s splendid notes at your side. They offer a wealth of interesting detail not just about the recordings, but also the personalities and places involved. No matter how much you’ve read about the era, you will learn things that will enhance your appreciation of this music.

There are many rare photographs as well.

In Volume 2, we cross the pond to Europe, where Bix’s music exerted its influence directly, through recordings issued principally on Parlophone, Columbia and HMV, and indirectly, through emissaries such as Bix’s colleagues Adrian Rollini, Chelsea Quealey and Sylvester Ahola, who were ensconced in British bands. (Rollini even tried to recruit Bix in 1929 for Fred Elizalde’s band at the Savoy Hotel. Had he succeeded, one wonders if Bix would have lived longer.)

To my ears, Bix’s British disciples were his best. Norman Payne captured Bix’s chime-struck-with-a-padded-mallet tone and emotional reticence, particularly at slow and medium tempos.  Young Norman solos in an uncharacteristically assertive fashion in Jay Whidden’s A Dicky Bird Told Me So, then settles into a more lyrical mood for the New Mayfair Dance Orchestra’s Every Day Away from You, Jack Hart’s The Song of the Dawn and I’m Singing My Way Round the World, Spike Hughes’ Kalua, the New Mayfair Orchestra’s Follow A Star Selection, Harry Shalson’s With My Guitar and You (here with especially gorgeous tone), and the Night Club Kings’ Whispering. So effective is his evocation of Bix’s tone that he imbues the NMDO’s South Sea Rose with Bixian spirit merely by leading the ensemble (and also by ending the record with a break indebted to Bix’s introduction to Baltimore).

Jack Jackson tends to be underappreciated among jazz collectors, possibly because of his stint as the leader of a mostly sweet dance band in the mid-1930s. Here, however, we get Jackson the sideman, whose best work displays beautiful, pure tone, a Bix-like decisivene ss, and great technical mastery. On the  Crichton Lyricals’ 1927 record of Somebody Said, the teenage Jackson begins his solo by quoting Bix’s second break in Trumbauer’s recording of Riverboat Shuffle, then proceeds with a modernistic, multi-noted solo that bows mostly to Red Nichols.  (This acoustic recording has always struck me as a British counterpart to Bix’s acoustically recorded Broadway Bell-Hops date.) By the time of Jack Hylton’s Forget Me Not (note Poggy Pogson’s Bixian oboe solo!) and especially Oh! What A Night to Love, Jackson had rather less Nichols and more Bix, and was saying more with fewer notes. Night, on which the brass section crackles and Jackson alludes to Bix’s solo in Ostrich Walk, is a fine all-round performance that ought to be better known. We also hear Jackson on Spike Hughes’ record of A Ship Without A Sail, where Jackson and alto saxophonist Philip Buchel create an atmosphere that can make you wonder if you’re hearing a newly-discovered Trumbauer side.

Naturally, Sylvester Ahola is here as well. We know he was a great admirer of Bix, but he is, I think, mostly his own man, a great technician who showed a Bixian tone sometimes but Bixian ideas only rarely. Above all, Hooley is not, to use Paul Whiteman’s description of Bix, “a note miser.” He can remind you of someone running up and down a flight of stairs, as on the Rhythmic Eight’s There’s a Cradle in Caroline. When he restrains himself and slows down a bit, the results can be Bixian (e.g., Harry Hudson’s Some Hauntin’ Tune) or not. On the Night Club Kings’ In the Moonlight and particularly Spike Hughes’ A Miss is As Good as a Mile, his playing is very exciting and moving, but the aggressive, rangy style and strident tone aren’t Bixian.

But wait – there’s more. Max Goldberg does himself proud on Jay Whidden’s little-known record of Louisiana in a derby-muted solo modeled after Bix’s solo on the Whiteman record, although Bing Crosby need not worry about competition from Whidden’s stiff vocalist, Fred Douglas. (It would have been nice to have Max’s Bixian outing in Spike Hughes’ record of The Boop-Boop A Doopa  Doo Trot as well.)  Chelsea Quealey is heard with Fred Elizalde on Sugar (a Bill Challis arrangement also featuring Bobby Davis and Adrian Rollini, recorded a month before the better-known Whiteman version featuring Bix), an unissued take of Dance, Little Lady, and the Challis-influenced arrangement of I’m Glad, a lovely, hitherto-unknown performance from a recently-discovered test pressing that is issued here for the first time. We also get to hear England’s mysterious Frank Wilson (who left the music business to take up religion in the early 1930s and was not heard from again) on an unissued take of Nobody’s Fault But Your Own with Jack Payne; France’s Philippe Brun on Gregorology by Gregor et ses Gregoriens; Sweden’s Ragge Lath on Helge Lindberg’s record of Minns Du?; and Tiger Rag by the Original Capitol Orchestra, an American band in London with whom Bix had played aboard the steamboat S.S. Capitol. These are not records you see every day, at least in New York! Throughout, we are guided by Nick Dellow and Mark Berresford’s scholarly notes on the European tracks, with yet more rare photographs.

Care has been taken not to duplicate the tracks on Sunbeam’s Bix Restored, Volume 5. Nick Dellow’s careful digital restoration gives each recording vivid new life while respecting its 0riginal sound. As a result, even the tracks that a dedicated Bixophile might have heard before deserve another listen. (Full disclosure: I provided the source material for two of the European tracks here. Fuller disclosure: having listened to the records in question side by side with Nick’s transfers, I’m mpressed by what he has accomplished with them.) Apart from all of that, Bixophiles will be glad to have these recordings, packaged with perceptive commentary, in one convenient, affordable place, saving the significant cost of buying them one or two at a time on scattered CDs (not to mention the even more significant cost of buying the original records, if you can find them).

Profits from this set initially were contributed to a fund established to help meet the medical expenses of Richard M. Sudhalter, the Bix-inspired trumpeter and celebrated author of, among many other things, the books ‘Bix, Man and Legend’ (in 1974, with co-author Philip R. Evans) and ‘Stardust Melody: The Life and Music of Hoagy Carmichael’ (2003). (One of the CD set’s booklets includes a heartfelt tribute to Sudhalter from Bixography proprietor Albert Haim.) After Sudhalter’s death in September 2008, the profits were redirected to the Jazz Foundation of America, an organization that aids thousands of jazz musicians in crisis annually, and that helped Sudhalter during his illness. Thus is this musically worthy endeavor made even more worthy.

All in all, this set is a feast for Bixophiles. I’ll bet Hoagy would have loved it.

ROB ROTHBERG