“J’AIMERAIS UN CD” [one by JEAN FRANCOIS BONNEL’S NEW QUARTET]

That’s French, and it means “I would like a CD.”  Your pronunciation doesn’t matter, but your comprehension of those words in this context will bring pleasure.

JAZZ LIVES hasn’t suddenly turned into Swing Berlitz, but those French words are your passport to Paradise, as Sidney Bechet would say.  Paradise is defined as a wholly new CD — and wholly new kind of CD — by the Master, Jean-Francois Bonnel.  Before I explain in words, perhaps some excerpts from the music would be even better.

Here are two audible hors d’oeuvres: Tasty Sample One and Two.

Now, a little history.  I had heard Jean-Francois Bonnel on a variety of vinyl and CD issues, playing reeds alongside some of the greatest hot musicians — standing out but never over-assertively.

But I still was unprepared for his intense swing and lyrical improvisations — on clarinet, on tenor, on cornet — when I first heard him at the Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival in 2009.  He could wail a gutty blues in the spirit of Johnny Dodds, swing out like Kenny Davern, create a tenor ballad that sounded much like Don Byas, play cornet in the best Keynote manner.  His inventiveness seemed limitless.

Finding myself in the hotel elevator with him one evening at a later Whitley Bay weekend, I intruded on his solitude (he is a very quiet man in person) and said, “Monsieur Bonnel, you are a master!”  (He looked embarrassed.)  “You play with wonderful bands — but I hope someday that you will make a CD with just a rhythm section.”  He smiled and said, “Perhaps someday,” the elevator opened, and he was saved from yet another fan who Wanted Something.  I think he was relieved that the elevator only goes three flights in the Village Newcastle.

I thought little of the incident — aside from thinking I should restrain my impulses somewhat — but then I found myself the lucky owner of a new Jean-Francois Bonnel CD where he led a quartet.  It’s all I had hoped for.  I can’t take credit for the inspiration, but the music is joyously on target.

Bonnel flies on clarinet — reminding me of his idol Davern in his late Arbors period, with a lovely clear tone and a fluid but restrained conception.  He doesn’t aim for the highest notes on the instrument to prove it can be done, and unlike Davern, his solos — although logical — are never a series of predictable motives strung together.  The repertoire is extensive — the familiar NO ONE ELSE BUT YOU (recalling Braff and Louis) and Bob Wilber’s take on LIMEHOUSE BLUES, WEQUASSET WAIL, but there are surprises in the middle, among them Ornette Coleman’s THE BLESSING.

The young musicians on this date are all new to me — in fact, they are Bonnel’s students and proteges — but there is no sense of Gulliver among the Liliputians.  Felix Hunot, guitar, Olivier Lalauze, string bass, and Stephane “Zef” Richard, drums, sound like mature players, able to follow Bonnel’s twisting lines or to work beautifully as soloists and as a cohesive rhythm section.  And as a bonus, Claire Marlange sings with subtlety and feeling (in French) on J’AI MARRE DE L’AMOUR (Fud Livingston’s I’M THROUGH WITH LOVE —  happily, the French lyrics keep “frigidaire”) and SI J’ETAIS UNE CIGARETTE.  KARY’S TRANSE and RONNIE’S TUNE (a romp on I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS) are very Tristano-like, from its tumbling unison line to the way the solos overlap one another.  Like Ruby Braff, Bonnel has a fine varied awareness of the possibilities of the smallest group — using duets as a way of breaking up the potential monotony of head-solo-jammed ensemble.  PLEASE, for instance, pairs clarinet and bass most effectively.  LENA FROM PALESTEENA builds in intensity; THE BLESSING. in Bonnel’s hands, is lyrical rather than angular, a series of musings opening out of one another to form a performance that would have pleased Pee Wee Russell in his last decade; Davern’s LAMENT starts calmly but takes on echoes of a funeral procession; WEQUASSET WAIL sprints from start to finish.  The result is a thoroughly varied and delightful hour of music.

To purchase a copy of this CD, you could encounter M. Bonnel and his New Quartet at one of their gigs in France, or you can click here.  Or ici, if you prefer.

Que votre bonheur augmente.

THE SOUNDS OF NEW ORLEANS (on DISC)

Three recent CDs from the George H. Buck family of labels are unusual sound-pictures of the riches of New Orleans jazz.

GEOFF BULL IN NEW ORLEANS (GHB BCD 203) is a CD reissue of trumpeter Bull’s first American session (October 1977, first issued December 1999).  Although Bull says that his first influences were George Lewis and Bunk Johnson, the music he made at Preservation Hall on this recording is far from what we would expect: light, floating, subtle.

A good deal of this is due to his beautiful playing, at times reminiscent of Bunk at his most lyrical (think of the American Music trios with Don Ewell); Bull can also sound like Marty Marsala or Henry “Red” Allen, but he is his own man, with a relaxed conception.  Making this session even more memorable is clarinetist Raymond Burke, free to roam in the front line alongside Bull.  Bassist James Prevost is a melodic swinger, and the rhythm section is completed by two strong individualists: Sing Miller, piano and vocal*; Cie Frazier, drums.

Rather than choose a program of Preservation Hall favorites, Bull and friends opted for pretty tunes not often played: PECULIAR / DO YOU EVER THINK OF ME? / A PORTER’S LOVE SONG TO A CHAMBERMAID / ONE FOR THE ROAD (a leisurely blues) / I’M NOBODY’S BABY / ALL ALONE / NEVERTHELESS / TUCK ME TO SLEEP IN MY OLD ‘TUCKY HOME* /JEEP’S BLUES / ZERO (I NEVER KNEW WHAT A GAL COULD DO) / THE NIGHT WHEN LOVE WAS BORN* / LET JESUS FIX IT FOR YOU* / HONEY – WHEN I GROW TOO OLD TO DREAM*.The results are sweet thoughtful jazz, conversational music that musicians play for their own pleasure.

My own Geoff Bull tale is musically rewarding: I hadn’t heard him play before encountering him (unbeknownst to me) in an after-hours jam session during the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival.  Here’s his performance (with Michael McQuaid’s Late Hour Boys) of MAMA INEZ — Geoff’s rangy, relaxed lyricism is a standout:

Two volumes of rare, previously unheard material from producer Joe Mares’ archives (he was the younger brother of trumpeter Paul) are fascinating, and not only for their rarity (GHB BCD 522 and 530, available separately).  Almost all of the material is in excellent fidelity, and this selection from Mares’ collection — which, when transferred to CD, filed twenty-seven discs — comes from concerts and local clubs as well as radio broadcasts between 1948 and 1953.  Students of New Orleans jazz will be thrilled by new material from their heroes, captured live; others will simply find the music energetic, varied, and refreshing.

Volume One begins with the hilarious HADACOL RAMBLE — with an ensemble vocal chorus — that is somewhere between folk-song, medicine show, down-home comedy, and vaudeville routine advertising the miraculous benefits of Hadacol, a New Orleans patent medicine apparently far more efficacious than Geritol or Serutan.

Other delights on this disc include appearances by Johnny Wiggs, Irving Fazola, Bujie Centobie, Raymond Burke, and Dr. Edmond Souchon.  The repertoire is often familiar, but the musicians play INDIANA (for instance) as if it had not been worn out by decades of bandstand tedium.  The songs are HADACOL RAMBLE / HADACOL RAMBLE (vocal) / I’M GOIN’ HOME / BASIN STREET BLUES / ROYAL GARDEN BLUES / TIN ROOF BLUES / THE WORLD IS WAITING FOR THE SUNRISE / DIPPERMOUTH BLUES / AT THE JAZZ BAND BALL / SAVOY BLUES / THAT’S A PLENTY / HIGH SOCIETY / BASIN STREET BLUES / MUSKRAT RAMBLE / BILL BAILEY — and the collective personnel is Sharkey Bonano, Tony Dalmado, George Hartman, Johnny Wiggs, Pinky Vidalcovich, Irving Fazola, Harry Shields, Raymond Burke, Bujie Centobie, Julian Laine, Emile Christian, Jack Delaney, Roy Zimmerman, Bill Zalik, Burt Peck, Stanley Mendelsohn, Frank Federico, Edmond Souchon, Sherwood Mangiapane, Chink Martin, Arnold Loyocano, Johnny Castaing, Fred King, Roger Johnson, Monk Hazel, Abbie Brunies — a fine mix of veterans and less-familiar players — but everyone solos with fine brio and no one gets lost in the ensemble.

The second volume is equally good — with most of the same players remaining.  (This selection adds Tony Almerico, Tony Costa, and Lester Bouchon.) Three standouts are the fine Stacy-inspired pianist Jeff Riddick (heard on seven selections), inspired work from drummer Ray Bauduc (on five), and Jack Teagarden — whose performance of BASIN STREET BLUES is especially inspired and happy, contrary to my initial expectations.

The songs are CLARINET MARMALADE / ALICE BLUE GOWN / THE WORLD IS WAITING FOR THE SUNRISE /PECULIAR / THE LAND OF DREAMS / INDIANA / SHE’S CRYING FOR ME /MISSOURI TWO BEAT / BASIN STREET BLUES / WHO’S SORRY NOW? / TIN ROOF BLUES / MARIE / HIGH SOCIETY / I’M A DING DONG DADDY / I’M GOIN’ HOME.

If you find yourself tired of routine performances of the “classic” repertoire, these three discs will be a refreshing corrective.

May your happiness increase.

SACRAMENTO, HERE I COME!: SACRAMENTO JAZZ FESTIVAL and JUBILEE 2011

The sheer numbers are impressive: over 450 sets of music planned in 24 venues with over 70 bands.  And the Sacramento Jazz organizers are not narrow in their tastes: in addition to traditional jazz, there’s blues, zydeco, and other forms of danceable music.

But for me the desire to go somewhere I’ve never been before is fueled by the jazz-lover’s carpe diem.  Inside me the sentence forms, more urgent than other impulses: “I have to go _____ because I could die never having heard _____ in person.”  The thought of my death or of someone else’s may seem morbid (especially over the Memorial Day weekend) but it is a profoundly deep motivator.

Awareness that the days dwindle down to a precious few got me on an airplane to hear and meet Bent Persson, Frans Sjostrom, Matthias Seuffert, Nick Ward, and two dozen others at Whitley Bay.

At Monterey, I met the Reynolds Brothers, Bryan Shaw, Sue Kroninger, Clint Baker, Carl Sonny Leyland, Danny Coots, Rae Ann Berry . . . as well as surprising the musicians I already knew (Dan Barrett, Joel Forbes, Becky Kilgore, Eddie Erickson, Jeff Barnhart, Marc Caparone, and Dawn Lambeth) by my presence.

At Sacramento, I will re-encounter some associates from New York end elsewhere: Jon-Erik Kellso, John Allred, Bill Allred, Jim Fryer, Bria Skonberg, Dan Block, John Sheridan, and Kevin Dorn . . . but I’ll also finally — meet up with Hal Smith and the International Sextet.  Here’s a taste of what Anita Thomas, Kim Cusack, Clint Baker, Katie Cavera, Carl Sonny Leyland, and Hal do with THERE’LL BE SOME CHANGES MADE:

Then, there will be clarinetist Bob Draga, cornetists Ed Polcer and Bob Schulz, pianists Johnny Varro and David Boeddinghaus, and the wonderful singer Banu Gibson (here’s a little taste of Banu with Jon-Erik, trombonist David Sager, reedman Dan Levinson, Kevin Dorn and others):

And because not everyone who lives with or loves a jazz fancier shares his / her obsession, there’s a Bloody Mary Festival, zydeco bands including Tom Rigney and Flambeau, blues, soul, rhythm ‘n’ blues, Johnny Cash and Steely Dan tribute bands, Latin bands, “Afrobeat,” marching bands and more — how can you lose, to quote Benny Carter?

I’ll be there — Rae Ann and I will be operating video cameras and wearing PRESS badges, so we’ll be hard to miss.  And here’s more information about the all-event price, hotel rates, and the festivities.  Something happening all through the weekend!

http://www.sacjazz.com/about.php

Don’t miss this party!

DO YOU SPEAK BIX? (ANDY SCHUMM and his BIXOLOGISTS at WHITLEY BAY 2010)

The title is not as fanciful as it seems.  Bix Beiderbecke lived in and created his own world, much as Lester Young did — and it had its own private musical language.  Think of the special break on SOMEBODY STOLE MY GAL, the modulation into the vocal on SUNDAY, and more.  So when a group of musicians get together to play the Bix-and-Tram repertoire, it’s especially rewarding when they know all the curves in the road and share all the musical in-jokes.

This playful unity happens whenever Andy Schumm gets to lead a group of his musical intimates, and it was especially in evidence at his closing session at the Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival in the summer of 2010.  Here are the remaining nine performances from that set.  The musicians are Andy, cornet and piano; Paul Munnery, trombone; Norman Field, reeds and vocal; Keith Nichols, piano and vocal; Spats Langham, banjo, guitar, vocal; Frans Sjostrom, bass saxophone; Josh Duffee, drums and vocal; Nick Ward, drums.

Josh tells the tale on THERE AIN’T NO LAND LIKE DIXIELAND TO ME:

And here’s DEEP DOWN SOUTH, edging towards its proper ballad tempo:

When the sun goes down and the tide goes out . . . all the percussionists assemble for a choke-cymbal conversation (that’s Nick Ward to the right) on MISSISSIPPI MUD:

The band-within-a-band pays homage to Bix, Tram, and Lang on WRINGIN’ AND TWISTIN’:

Have you received your packet of seeds?  Political commentary aside, I wish that ev’rybody was doin’ it now, the WA-DA-DA way:

Thinking of the glorious Jean Goldkette band in 1927 with SUNDAY:

Now that we all know how to pronounce CLEMENTINE (she comes from New Orleans), let’s hear Norman Field sing about her charms:

Watch Spats Langham become the whole Paul Whiteman Orchestra on CHANGES:

Andy and the Bixologists offered a splendidly rocking SORRY to conclude:

I’d call these musicians (and singers) post-doctorate linguists, wouldn’t you?

JOHN SCURRY’S “REVERSE SWING”

One of the most gratifying things about being a jazz listener is the possibility of meeting one’s heroes in the flesh.  I could lament that I never saw Django or Charlie Christian or Teddy Bunn, but I’m happy and proud to be able to write, “I’ve met John Scurry.”

I first heard John — guitarist, banjoist, composer, and not incidentally an artist — on several NifNuf CDs that came out of Bob Barnard’s Jazz Parties (a glorious series of celebrations running for a decade). 

I would put the CD into the player, most often in my car, and just listen, not knowing who the players were aside from Bob and one or two others.  But when I got to my destination or at a stoplight, I would look at the personnel to see exactly who that most impressive (unidentified) player was.  Sometimes it was Fred Parkes, other times Chris Taperell or George Washingmachine. 

But I came to know John Scurry’s work quickly: his ringing lines that didn’t go in familiar paths, his solid rhythm, his interesting voicings.  I then heard him on CDs with Allan Browne and Judy Carmichael and continued to be impressed.

And it would have stayed that way except for this summer’s trip to England and the long thrilling jazz weekend at the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival. 

One night before the festival actually began, there was a concert devoted to the great British dance bands of the Thirties.  After we found seats on the little bus that was to take us to the hall, I recognized some people I’d met at the previous year’s festival — the multi-instrumentalist Michael McQuaid and his sweetheart Anna Lyttle. . . then Michael introduced me quickly to his colleagues, “there’s Jason, and John, and Ian.”  I’m not terribly good with names the first time I’m introduced, so I let the new bits of data wash over me.   (Eventually I came to meet and admire Jason Downes and Ian Smith.)

Later on, though, someone pointed out “John” and gave him his full title . . . and I went up to him and said, “You’re John Scurry?  I’ve been admiring your work for a long time . . . ” and on.  When he played with Michael’s Late Hour Boys, he was even better in person.  (I’ve posted a number of clips on YouTube that will bear me out.)

I’ve been listening John’s winding, curious compositions on some other CDs with Allan Browne recently.  I regret that he hasn’t yet had the opportunity to make a solo or duo CD.  In a world full of guitarists, he surely stands out.

I was both delighted and a bit puzzled by the portrait top left — even though I could understand that it is summer in Australia while we are worrying about the effects of the first frost on the plants . . . so I asked John to explain:

The band is a drumless quartet with Eugene Ball trumpet, Mike McQuaid
reeds, Leigh Barker bass, and myself on guitar.  We are unrehearsed and
playing standards, some of my so called originals and whatever comes
to mind in the balmy summer eve atmosphere of the lovely interior
spanish mission style courtyard of the Mission to Seafarers in
Melbourne, and old circa 1910 building.  The painting is by Antoine Watteau and I think it may be in the Met.  Jed Perl who writes for The New Republic did an article on it a few  years back. The painting if I remember correctly was recently rediscovered: I downloaded the image from his article, which was called  ‘A Big Surprise”.  A very beautiful work, don’t you think?  Sort of
encopasses everything really.

 As to “reverse swing”.  It’s a cricketing term, wherein the ball when
bowled swings the other way unexpectantly and contrary to Mr. Isaac
Newton’s expectations.  I like the name, I’m left-handed and happen to
play cricket…and I’m a bowler.  At this stage up until Christmas the gig is only for three weeks, however as  with all things we live in hope and joyful anticipation that more music may be had from the seafarers in the New Year.
I did this gig last year with Mike and Leigh, it’s a lot of fun
working with an acoustically based group without drums……it’s good
to  find one’s voice for better or worse without certain aural
encumbrances.

I only wish that New York was closer to Australia, or the reverse.  Perhaps someone will record REVERSE SWING with a video camera and share the results with us?  It won’t be the same, but it will tamp down my “Something wonderful is happening far away and I can’t get to it.” 

May John Scurry and his friends — not only in the Australian summer — prosper.

“SEATS MAY NOT BE SAVED”: THOMAS WINTELER and BENT PERSSON at WHITLEY BAY (July 11, 2010)

Don’t let the forbidding sign dismay you: I made it the title of this video-recollection simply because it was so irrelevant to the musical effervescence of this afternoon’s jazz.  (I “saved my seat” by refusing to leave it until the set was over.)

That afternoon, July 11, 2010, seems far away now — until I listen again to the music and am transported to the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival, and a long set featuring reedman Thomas Winteler (who can sound more like Sidney Bechet than anyone I’ve ever heard). 

Much dramatic violence has been done on various reed instruments in the sacred name of Sidney, but Winteler’s approach is both balanced and impassioned.  Alongside him is my hero Bent Persson, trumpet; Michel Bard, baritone saxophone and clarinet; Lou Lauprete, piano; Henri Lemaire, bass; Pierre-Alain Maret, banjo; Ron Houghton, drums. 

Here are two performances recalling the somewhat uneasy reunion of Louis Armstrong and Sidney in the Decca studios in 1940.

First, PERDIDO STREET BLUES:

And a trotting DOWN IN HONKY TONK TOWN:

The band — with Ron Houghton changing over to washboard — went back to the Johnny Dodds repertoire (for one of the most-frequently played songs of that whole weekend) for FORTY AND TIGHT:

James P. Johnson’s rhapsody to amour-propre, OLD-FASHIONED LOVE:

CAKE-WALKIN’ BABIES FROM HOME again summoned up Louis and Sidney, energetically battling it out under the banner of Clarence Williams in 1924-5:

CHINA BOY, announced by Thomas as “An easy one,” reminding me of the HRS Bechet-Spanier Big Four:

PETITE FLEUR, Sidney’s late-in-life hit record:

VIPER MAD, that paean to muggles or muta, from Sidney’s brief career as a leader on records in the late Thirties (I can still hear O’Neill Spencer’s encouraging exhortations to become Tall):

A strolling ON THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET:

And, as an energetic set-closer, SWEETIE DEAR, homage to the 1932 New Orleans Feetwarmers session for Victor.  The closing riffs (straight from Louis) point to the conventions of the Swing Era, as heard through the Basie band:

Rumor has it that Thomas and Bent have made a CD . . . details, anyone?

MORE FROM ANDY SCHUMM at WHITLEY BAY (July 11, 2010)

We were very fortunate that Andy Schumm had three concert-length appearances at the Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival, each with his Bixologists.  On the final day of the festival, the Bixologists were Norman Field, reeds; Paul Munnery, trombone; Keith Nichols, piano and vocals; Spats Langham, guitar, banjo, vocals; Frans Sjostrom, bass saxophone, with guest appearances by Michael McQuaid, clarinet, and Nick Ward, drums (the latter in the second part of this posting). 

Here are ten marvelous performances from that session!

Howdy Quicksell’s SINCE MY BEST GAL TURNED ME DOWN is unusually sprightly for its rather sad theme.  Two conventions are also at work here: the witty imitation of a wind-up phonograph at the start, sliding into pitch on the first note, and the slow-drag break at the end.  (They are as solidly accepted pieces of performance practice as the whole-tone break in SOMEBODY STOLE MY GAL, something that Dan Barrett and Jon-Erik Kellso do perfectly when the stars are right.):

SUGAR isn’t the more famous Maceo Pinkard song, beloved of Ethel Waters and Louis Armstrong, but a bouncy concoction on its own, here sung most convincingly by Mr. Langham:

RHYTHM KING (listen to that Rhythm King, I tell you!) falls to Keith Nichols, so ably:

Bix and his friends didn’t exist in a vacuum, though: while they were in the OKeh studios, so were Louis and Bessie Smith and Clarence Williams. Andy invited our friend Michael McQuaid up to the stand to whip up a ferocious version of Clarence Williams’ CUSHION FOOT STOMP, which suggests a healing visit to the podiatrist or something else whose meaning eludes me:

Letting Michael off the stand after only one number would have been a bad idea, so he and Norman embarked on a two-clarinet version of the ODJB (and Beiderbecke) CLARINET MARMALADE, which paid homage not only to Johnny Dodds and Boyd Senter but to Olympic gymnasts as well:

Who was CLORINDA?  Only the Chicago Loopers knew for sure:

The Original Dixieland Jazz Band affected everyone who had even fleeting thoughts of playing jazz at the beginning of the last century: here’s their ORIGINAL DIXIELAND JAZZ BAND ONE-STEP, which has no relation whatsoever to CUSHION FOOT STOMP:

Andy Secrest would be jazz’s most forgotten man if it weren’t for the affectionate recall of people like Andy Schumm and Dick Sudhalter, who brought him out of the shadows (he was rather like the understudy forced to step into an unfillable role).  WHAT A DAY! is in his honor:

I’M GOING TO  MEET MY SWEETIE NOW — always a delightful thought — brings us back to the days of those all-too-few romping recordings the Jean Goldkette Orchestra made for Victor Records:

And (finally, for this posting) another version of BALTIMORE — the new dance craze — a rhythm that’s hot, as Keith Nichols knows so well:

More to come (on the other side, of course)!

FOR JOSEPHINE BAKER: BOHEM RAGTIME JAZZ BAND at WHITLEY BAY, July 11, 2010

She was a sensation.

When Josephine Baker toured Europe in 1928, one of the places she was most enthuastically welcomed was Hungary.  In fact, a popular hit of that year was COME, JOSEPHINE, 

I would have known nothing of this had it not been for my first face-to-face meeting, a delightful one, with the Bohem Ragtime Jazz Band at the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival.  And here — explained so convincingly by Tamas Itzes, is COME, JOSEPHINE:

The BRJB bills itself as a versatile jazz ensemble, and they can do everything from the “traditional” repertoire to later small-band swing, ragtime, jazzing the classics, and more. 

You can see a good deal of them on their YouTube channel (“fobohem”) and on their website, where (dare I say it) there are CDs and DVDs of the band, by itself and with eminent international guests.  You’ll find them at  http://www.bohemragtime.com/

  The BRJB satisfies!

THREE BY THREE AT WHITLEY BAY (July 11, 2010)

Originally I thought of calling this post COULDN’T BE BETTER, but I decided to be less emphatic.  Still, I am a devout and devoted admirer of the Hot Jazz Trio, one of the few aggregations on this planet that not only lives up to their billing but usually transcends it. 

Who are (or is?) the Hot Jazz Trio?  The simple answer is Bent Persson, trumpet, cornet, mellophone, and even vocals; Frans Sjostrom, bass saxophone and masterful master of ceremonies; Jacob Ullberger, banjo, guitar, and more. 

These three musicians are Swedish, but they don’t get together that frquently for gigs, because they don’t all live nearby.  So what I have in my mind and ears is a wondrous CD on the Kenneth label, titled HOT JAZZ TRIO, their 2009 performance at Whitley Bay, and their briefer one this year.  That’s not enough, but it will have to do for the moment.

The three videos below tell the story of a versatile jazz ensemble, who (collectively and singly) are able to get inside the skins of Jelly Roll Morton’s Red Hot Peppers, Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five, the Ellington orchestra of the late Thirties and early Forties, Bix Beiderbecke and his Gang.  They aren’t trying to “play old records live,” but they do bring those noble ghosts into the room and make them welcome.

Here’s their AT THE JAZZ BAND BALL, both energized and focused:

And in the name of good Middle East relations, they summon up not only an amusing period piece (LENA suggested EGYPTIAN ELLA and more) but also the ODJB and all that vaguely exotic splendor of the beginning of the last century — in LENA FROM PALESTEENA:

And, because everyone needs a little more disposable income, here’s BEAU KOO JACK — in honor of Louis, Earl, and Don Redman:

Live, lively, and more — the Hot Jazz Trio!

THE SECOND WHITLEY BAY JAM SESSION (July 10, 2010)

Jam sessions don’t always work out.  But the one that took place in the Victory Pub on Saturday, July 10, 2010, during the Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival, succeeded nobly.  And I stopped finding the television screens distracting as soon as the music began. 

The core group, “Doc’s Night Owls,” remained — and grew.  Michel Bastide, cornet; Matthias Seuffert, reeds; Jacob Ullberger, banjo; Christian LeFevre, brass bass, Martin Seck, washboard, were joined by Mike Durham, trumpet and master organizer; Andy Schumm, cornet; Ian Smith, cornet; Jean-Francois Bonnel, reeds; Attila Korb, trombone; Nicolas Montier, alto sax . . . and various gifted enthusiastic players.  I apologize to anyone I haven’t identified above: it’s not discourtesy, but having my hands full (thus taking poor notes).  And the players at a jam session don’t always introduce themselves.  So I will add identifications if and when they are supplied!

Perhaps owing to the previous set, the repertoire had a deep Twenties feel.  They began with the Dodds classic, FORTY AND TIGHT.  A prize to the reader(s) who can unravel the etymology of that slang praise.  “Tight,” I can certainly guess at, but “forty” as an accolade?  Research! — while the music is playing, please:

The next song was again associated with Johnny Dodds (and in more recent times, Soprano Summit), OH, DADDY (with or without comma or exclamation point, the meaning is clear):

In memory of Clarence Williams, Alberta Hunter, Sidney Bechet, and Louis Armstrong, someone suggested CAKE WALKING BABIES FROM HOME (although there were no titanic solo duels here — the atmosphere was more friendly than combative):

With Andy Schumm in evidence, there is always the possibility that the Twenties will include that young fellow from Davenport, Iowa, whose shade surfaced most pleasingly for SAN.  How nice that this band knew the verse as well:

And the last song I captured was (and is) a good old good one from the Midwest, full of sweet sentiment, MY GAL SAL (by Paul Dresser, brother of the more celebrated novelist Theodore Dreiser — I prefer Paul’s works to his brother’s, but that’s a purely personal statement — they get to the point more quickly and with greater effectiveness):

The collective ensemble began AT THE JAZZ BAND BALL — which, in retrospect, I regret having missed — but my video-taping arm had begun to quiver and I feared the rest of me would shortly follow suit.  But I hope that these videos suggest some of the delicious enthusiasm and deep artistry that ruled this evening.  Victory indeed!

DOC’S NIGHT OWLS at WHITLEY BAY (July 10, 2010)

What’s up, Doc?

If the Doc in question is ophthalmologist Michel Bastide, the answer is going to be idiomatic hot jazz.  Michel is a licensed medical practitioner by day, a searing cornetist / trombonist / singer / bandleader of the Hot Antic Jazz Band by night (or when he’s not in the office). 

At the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival, I had another delightful opportunity to hear Michel in a perfectly balanced hot group — four virtuosi with but a single thought — which festival organizer Mike Durham called DOC’S NIGHT OWLS because they began their hour-long session at 11 PM.  (For jazz musicians, of course, that time is rather like brunch, but no matter.) 

The other OWLS were Matthias Seuffert on clarinet and tenor sax; Jacob Ullberger on banjo; Christian LeFevre on brass bass.  Martin Seck, the pianist with the Hot Antics (and last year with Les Red Hot Reedwarmers) joined in on washboard for the final number as prelude to the jam session that followed.

They began their session with a tune associated with Johnny and Baby Dodds, PIGGLY WIGGLY.  Until I hear evidence to the contrary, I will assume that it celebrates the famous Chicago supermarket (was it the first one in the United States?) now famous for its design and floor plan which compelled people entering to walk past every item in the store before they found the way out, something that I assume guaranteed many more purchases:

MESSIN’ AROUND followed — a hot tune recorded by Freddie Keppard:

I CAN’T SAY, another Dodds-related opus, must have been named in one of those classic recording-studio moments:

Michel showed himself a fine, amused singer on a very hot I LOST MY GAL FROM MEMPHIS (the band knew chapter and verse!); this song reminds me of the brief Victor recording career of trumpeter Bubber Miley and his Mileage Makers, an idea of recording executive L.R. “Loren” Watson, who was cultivating Miley as hot player supreme, perhaps another version of Louis.  I don’t always find myself able to take notes while video-recording, but I wrote down in my notebook “Matthias on fire.”  See if you don’t agree:

A gutty E FLAT BLUES (what session is complete without one?) was very gratifying:

WA WA WA, presumably celebrating the sound of Joe Oliver’s plunger mute, is not the usual official jazz chestnut:

SISTER KATE (or her cousin) followed:

And the session concluded with RED HOT HOTTENTOT, possibly politically incorrect but no less rewarding:

The Doctor is in — as are these fine consulting specialists.  (Thanks to the erudite Michael McQuaid for some correct song titles.)

NORMAN FIELD’S NOVELTY RECORDING ORCHESTRA at WHITLEY BAY (July 11, 2010)

Norman Field is a man of many talents. 

He’s a wildly versatile reed player — capable of becoming hot in the best Teschmacher manner or serene a la Trumbauer — while always retaining his own identity.  And he’s a wonderfully erudite jazz scholar, ready to discourse on esoterica — alternate takes and label colors — at the drop of an acetate. 

Norman’s also an engaging raconteur and enthusiastic singer: the session has new energy when he’s onstage! 

His website is http://www.normanfield.com/cds.htm. 

But that’s only one small sliver of what interests our Mr. Field: see http://www.normanfield.com/hobby.htm for a larger sample, including investigations of obscure recording artists, Norman’s beautiful wildlife photographs, disquisitions on an againg tumble dryer, and more. 

But what we’re concerned with at the moment is a delightful set Norman and friends created at the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival — an ad hoc group named by festival director “Norman Field’s Novelty Recording Orchestra.”  I was recording it, and although many of the songs were familiar jazz classics, every performance had its own novelty.

The group — a compact assemblage of individualists — included the eminent Nick Ward on percussion, Frans Sjostrom on bass saxophone, Jacob Ullberger on banjo and guitar, Paul Munnery on trombone, and Andy Woon on cornet.  Here they are!

For those without a calendar or an iPhone, here’s OUR MONDAY DATE, created by Earl Hines in 1928 when he, Louis Armstrong, and Zutty Singleton were Chicago pals:

Another good old good one, ON THE SUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET, honors Dorothy Fields, Jimmy McHugh, Louis, Johnny Hodges, and many other creators:

SHIM-ME-SHA-WABBLE, another hot Chicago song, was named for the dance (or was it the reverse?).  I think of Red Nichols and Eddie Condon as well as Frank Chace when I hear this multi-themed composition:

What could be more wholesome than a nice BLUES (IN G)?

Then, there’s the Claude Hopkins – Alex Hill declaration of romantic devotion made tangible, I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU, with a bouncing vocal from Norman — being a solid romantic citizen, notice that he eschews the MOST sometimes found in the title:

Time for something soft and slow — Paul Munnery’s feature on BODY AND SOUL:

Back to dear old Chicago in the Twenties, evoking Bix and his Gang with a fervent JAZZ ME BLUES:

And it’s always a pleasure to watch and hear Nick Ward swing out on his very own percussion ensemble, as he does on SWEET SUE:

The barroom favorite, MY MELANCHOLY BABY, is still a good song to play at almost any tempo:

And a closing romp on NOBODY’S SWEETHEART NOW made us all elated, notwithstanding the lyric.  Has anyone considered that the unnamed young woman of the song is really one of Thomas Hardy’s “ruined women,” who’s much happier having lost her innocence and gained her independence?

Thanks for the cheer, O Norman Field and Novelty Recording Orchestra!

The Third Set: ANDY SCHUMM and his BIXOLOGISTS at WHITLEY BAY (July 10, 2010)

“Too good to ignore!” as Eddie Condon once said. 

Here are the closing performances from a generous concert set: Andy, cornet; Paul Munnery, trombone; Norman Field, reeds and commentary; Paul Asaro, piano; Jacob Ullberger, banjo and guitar; Frans Sjostrom, bass saxophone; Josh Duffee, drums.

ANGRY (courtesy of the Bruni[e]s brothers):

JAPANESE SANDMAN. more evidence of the Orientalism of pop songs of the time:

SUSIE (OF THE ISLANDS), which Andy says is “take A”:

HUMPTY DUMPTY — a Schumm “modernistic” piano solo, entirely convincing:

and to close off this lengthy and rewarding concert, SOMEBODY STOLE MY GAL:

We’re grateful for such impassioned, expert playing.

THE CHALUMEAU SERENADERS at WHITLEY BAY (July 11, 2010)

Seeing jazz live means that the wonderful sounds that have previously come out of speakers or earbuds are magically transformed into people with instruments, creating music only a few feet away.  Could anything be better than having a favorite band materialize in front of you? 

That’s happened to me many times.  An especially pleasing instance took place at the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival, when the Chalumeau Serenaders — whom I’d only known as a recording band — played a live set.  The Serenaders emerged from Stomp Off Records’ producer Bob Erdos’ love of clarinet duets.  Bob put together two of the finest with a crackling rhythm section: that’s Norman Field and Matthias Seuffert on reeds, Nick Ward on drums, Keith Nichols on piano and vocals, Malcolm Sked on sousaphone and string bass, and Martin Wheatley on banjo and guitar.  

They began with that pretty Irving Berlin song, A PRETTY GIRL IS LIKE A MELODY:

Then, because Bix and Tram seemed to be everywhere in the ether, Keith Nichols opted for I’M COMIN’ VIRGINIA and sang a chorus:

WHO? was the question (the Chalumeau Serenaders were the definitive answer):

MAORI, (subtitled A SAMOAN DANCE) — by William H. Tyers, who wrote PANAMA, was next:

Norman Field suggested (whimsically, as is his habit) that the Serenaders create a LOWDOWN BLUES.  Or perhaps it was a LOW-DOWN BLUES.  You’ll have to decide.  And even though it was a sunny afternoon in Newcastle, Keith’s piano choruses summoned up a dark Chicago basement.  Nick’s drumming is usually extraordinary (“Every move a picture”) but watch and listen closely — also to Martin’s wonderfully down-low solo.  A highlight of the weekend:

The lovely I’LL NEVER BE THE SAME, echoing Eddie Lang and Joe Venuti, Billie Holiday, Buck Clayton, and Lester Young, followed.  Bask in the warmth of Matthias’ tenor sound, so rhapsodically reminiscent of 1934 Coleman Hawkins:

And the set closed with a romping (and accurately titled) FINE AND DANDY:

Remarkable things happen at Whitley Bay!

The Second Set: ANDY SCHUMM and his BIXOLOGISTS at WHITLEY BAY (July 10, 2010)

Andy, cornet and piano; Paul Munnery, trombone; Norman Field, reeds and commentary; Paul Asaro, piano; Jacob Ullberger, banjo and guitar; Frans Sjostrom, bass saxophone; Josh Duffee, drums; Nick Ward, drums on BORNEO and CLARINET MARMALADE.

SWEET SUE is a delightful melody at any tempo; I love Andy’s devil-may-care introduction: “A flat.  See what happens.”  What happens is great good fun:

WAITING AT THE END OF THE ROAD might have the solo by Andy Secrest, but it remains a lovely Irving Berlin song (recorded also by Bing Crosby and Fats Waller — alas, separately):

THOU SWELL is a splendid Rodgers and Hart declaration of love:

CHINA BOY was much beloved by Hot players from Condon and Tesch to Muggsy and Bechet, and remains a Hot perennial:

I’LL BE A FRIEND “WITH PLEASURE” is remembered by all who love Bix for its sweetly mournful solo, here evoked by the whole band:

BORNEO is one of those now politically-incorrect songs about the swinging savages.  But without the lyrics, it still rocks mightily (with percussive help from Nick Ward):

I’LL FOLLOW YOU must be the only song ever recorded both by Bing Crosby and Willie “the Lion” Smith — further proof of the Crosby influence reaching into all corners of jazz and pop music.  Here it’s a pretty ruminative feature for striding Paul Asaro:

CLARINET MARMALADE always reminds me of the many-themed silent film accompaniments, memorably so.  Catch Nick’s vibrant solo here:

Be back in ten minutes!

JAMMIN’ AT WHITLEY BAY (July 9, 2010)

Jazz musicians know that great truth: if you stay up late, you can always sleep tomorrow. 

Although the players at a jazz party might seem to have an exhausting schedule, many of them are fueled by the encounters with their peers and heroes — thus, an after-hours jam session often happens.  I was lucky enough to be awake for this one and have a fully-charged video camera.  The session took place at the “Victory Pub” in the Village Hotel Newcastle, the comfortable home base for the Whitley Bay International Jazz Party.  

Of course the seating arrangement scattered musicians here and there, and several flat-screen televisions remained on through the session, but the music was the focus here. 

The musicians who began the session were an organized band — a great one: Michael McQuaid’s Late Hour Boys: Michael and Jason Downes on reeds, John Scurry on guitar, Mark Elton on drums, Ian Smith on drums and washboard.  Then they were joined by Graham Hughes (from London) on trombone, and other gifted jammers.    

FORTY AND TIGHT comes from the Johnny Dodds book, and its title is a slang expression for something (or someone) who is splendidly gratifying.  How naughty the coinage is I don’t know; talk among yourselves:

MAMA INEZ certainly has a rocking, irresistible  beat:

Then, they were joined by a friend from the land of Oz — the fine trumpet player and singer Geoff Bull, who nudged them into SOME OF THESE DAYS:

Thinking of Louis, Jeff Barnhart unsheathed the keyboard and sang ROCKIN’ CHAIR:

But that might have been too mournful for a jubilant occasion, so they swung into another Louis-Hoagy connection, JUBILEE, which certainly did make the rafters ring / up to Heaven:

Bassist Henri Lamaire and drummer Josh Duffee joined the festivities and Geoff suggested the pretty THANKS A MILLION, again reaching back to the Thirties Louis book (or perhaps as homage to Dick Powell, who introduced the song in “the film of the same name”):

And the session concluded with a romping JUNE NIGHT, with pianist Martin Seck and a host of other musicians joining in (again, I’ll happily credit them by name if informed).  My hat’s off to Geoff Bull, who certainly knows how to get everyone going in the right direction with inspiring riffs.  And the wonderful solos are surely sparked by Josh’s exuberant drumming:

And here’s a very musical solo from Josh to wrap things up in a swinging way:

If you weren’t already convinced, I think this session is further proof that good things happen in the dark.

SWING OUT!: BENT PERSSON PLAYS RED ALLEN (July 9, 2010)

Bent Persson never lets us down — as a trumpeter or a jazz scholar who teaches by his own example. 

One of the high points of this year’s Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival this year was his two-hour presentation of the music of Henry “Red” Allen from 1929 to 1934.  The concert emphasized the music Red made (often under his own name) as a member of the incredibly swinging Luis Russell Orchestra, with the wildly heated recording group the Rhythmakers, and a few of his early Vocalions. 

Bent’s group had Michel Bastide, trumpet; Paul Munnery, trombone, a reed section of Michael McQuaid, Jean-Pierre Bonnel, Robert Fowler; Jeff Barnhart, piano / vocals; Jacob Ullberger, banjo / guitar; Henri Lamaire, bass; Josh Duffee, drums; Cecile Salvant, vocals. 

Here’s Bent — one of my heroes — with a band full of splendid soloists and sight-readers (!) playing music that I have been admiring for a long time — hot, rhapsodic, always surprising.  Although record companies looked to Red as “the answer” to Louis Armstrong, Red always went his own way, a sort of delightful sideways approach to familiar phrases and harmonies.  And Bent and the band do him justice here, honoring the shades of J. C. Higginbotham, Albert Nicholas, Pops Foster, Paul Barbarin, and other giants. 

The program began, most appropriately, with SWING OUT:

Feeling poorly?  Consider the DOCTOR BLUES (although one never knows if the title refers to a healer or the need for one:

Bent called upon his impromptu vocal trio (Cecile, Jeff, and Michel) for the refrain in NEW CALL OF THE FREAKS.  Who knew that New Orleans musicians were so deeply involved in recycling programs?

SUGAR HILL FUNCTION celebrates good times uptown:

And for the theologically-minded, Cecile offers ON REVIVAL DAY (with delightful echoes of Bessie Smith, too):

LOUISIANA SWING was the title of a fine Luis Russell collection, and it is apt here, considering that the Russell band was filled with New Orleans masters:

POOR LI’L ME again features the soulful Cecile:

SINGING PRETTY SONGS is, always surprisingly, exuberant rather than balladic:

Watch out for the law!  Cecile offers an admonitory PATROL WAGON BLUES:

And a true romper from a King Oliver Victor session (its title in the spirit of an unsupervised terrier puppy) SHAKE IT AND BREAK IT:

Hot enough for anyone!  And there’s more to come in Part Two – – –

Part Two: ANDY SCHUMM’S BIXOLOGISTS (Whitley Bay, July 9, 2010)

Here’s the conclusion of the first impressive performance by Andy Schumm and his Bixologists at the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival: Norman Field, reeds; Paul Munnery, trombone; Jeff Barnhart, piano; Jacob Ullberger, banjo and guitar; Frans Sjostrom, bass sax; Josh Duffee, drums.  What inventive melodists they all are!

ROSY CHEEKS:

MY GAL SAL:

SAN:

LOVE NEST:

NOBODY’S SWEETHEART NOW (with a chase chorus for Norman and Andy):

Hot and sweet, lyrical and impulsive — with aural echoes not only of Bix, Tram, and Eddie — but also of Chauncey Morehouse, Red Nichols, Miff Mole, Adrian Rollini, Gene Krupa, Frank Teschmacher, Eddie Condon, and more.

Part One: ANDY SCHUMM’S BIXOLOGISTS (Whitley Bay, July 9, 2010)

Cornetist Andy Schumm was having the time of his life at the 2010 Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival.  Not that Andy doesn’t have fun and spread joy wherever he goes — but here he was with a band of players who knew the music intimately, knew the subtle dimensions of the styles by heart.  So Andy and his Bixologists were an immense hit, and I caught every session (missing perhaps three songs) and I am very glad of it.  The band for this initial meeting on Friday, July 9, was Norman Field on a variety of reeds and amusing scholarly digressions; Paul Munnery on trombone; Jeff Barnhart on piano; Jacob Ullberger on banjo and guitar; Frans Sjostrom, the heroic, on the bass saxophone; Josh Duffee on his minimalist and very swinging drums. 

I will not explicate these performances, because they don’t need my pointing out their delights.  However, they are so much more than pale recreations of records: they are living creative hot music!

AT THE JAZZ BAND BALL:

LOUISIANA:

AT SUNDOWN:

ROYAL GARDEN BLUES:

I’M MORE THAN SATISFIED:

OH, BABY!:

BIG BOY:

BABY, WON’T YOU PLEASE COME HOME?:

And more to come on the other side . . .

MICHAEL McQUAID’S LATE HOUR BOYS at WHITLEY BAY (July 9, 2010)

At my first Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival last year, I met and instantly liked the young Australian jazz virtuoso Michael McQuaid — he plays alto saxophone, clarinet, and cornet — but didn’t get to hear him in his natural settings.  This year the fates were kinder: I saw Michael and the little hot band he leads, the Late Hour Boys, in two sets. 

After the first one, someone asked me what I thought.  Without thinking for a second, I replied, “Scalding!”  I think you will see that I wasn’t being hyperbolic.

The Late Hour Boys take their name, some of their repertoire, and their joyous attitude from the late Ade Monsborough, who named his group this way not because they favored midnight performances, but because he assembled his personnels at the last minute.  Michael McQuaid’s LHB summon up the kind of hot improvisation I associate with Spanier and Bechet, with a bare-knickle version of Soprano Summit in its closing choruses. 

You’ll hear evocations of Johnny Dodds and Pete Brown, of Teddy Bunn and Milt Hinton and Zutty Singleton.  It’s a two-man all reed front line, with Michael and the peerless wit Jason Downes switching off on clarinet and alto; the rhythm is taken care of by the splendid John Scurry on banjo and guitar and Mark (the Eel) Elton on bass.  Ian Smith, who also played cornet with Ade some years back, is a driving homespun drummer and washboardist who sings with great effectiveness — tenderly on a ballad, raucously on a jump tune.  And this band jumps for sure.

Here’s a rollicking CANDY LIPS (I’m STUCK ON YOU) from the Clarence Williams book:

Here’s a wartime composition by Monsborough, SORRY TO BE LEAVING:

PUT ‘EM DOWN BLUES is not the usual homage to Louis and the Hot Five.  It has its own romping momentum.  Although I don’t quite understand the emotional / romantic nuances of the lyric, I believe anything that Ian sings:

RAIN is a pretty tune that no one else seems to remember; Ian is in the moment on his sweet vocal:

EUROA, a Monsborough composition, honors a place that Michael suggests is improved by the song:

MELANCHOLY, which harks back to the glory days of 1927 Chicago with Johnny Dodds and Louis Armstrong:

BLAME IT ON THE BLUES, which I associate with Sidney Bechet and Albert Nicholas, intertwining:

Michael and the Late Hour Boys also have a new CD out which entirely captures the exuberance of these video performances.  Listening to it is also a much more focused experience, since you don’t have a running-shoes-for-sale poster in the background.  It is a limited edition, so I don’t know if this posting is too late, but I hope not! 

Check it out at http://www.jasondownes.com/lhbcd.

NOW IS THE TIME . . .

Calling all cats!

I wrote some weeks ago about Mike Durham’s plans for a new version of the Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival — a Classic Jazz Party to be held at the same location (the comfortable Village Newcastle Hotel) for three days in November 2011  — Friday to Sunday, November 4-6. 

Mike’s musician list is once again stellar: Bent Persson, Michel Bastide, Keith Nichols, Rico Tomasso, Rene Hagmann, Matthias Seuffert, Norman Field, Jean-Francois Bonnel, Kristoffer Kompen, Martin Litton, Malcolm Sked, Frans Sjostrom, Spats Langham, Martn Wheatley, Nick Ward, Josh Duffee, Debbie Arthurs, Cecile Salvant, and more.  They would create three days of jazz — from midday to midnight, with each band presenting an hour-long set. 

The Classic Jazz Party needs YOU!

To be precise, Mike needs a deposit from fifty more of the faithful to proceed.  This translates to a check (or “cheque”) for a hundred pounds, made out to CLASSIC JAZZ PARTY, and sent to him at 60 Highbury, Newcastle Upon Tyne, NE2 3LN.  Along with the money, he asks that you send your name and full address, phone number and email address.  

If you don’t have a U.K. bank account, you can send the required £100 per person over the internet, via PayPal: log on to the Paypal website and send the money to Mike’s email address, mikedurham_jazz@hotmail.com – quick, easy, secure, and free. 

And Mike says, “Also, just to reiterate, all funds will be instantly refunded in full if I decide not to go ahead at the end of September, but I devoutly hope that enough people will rally round to render that unneccessary.”   

The Village Hotel promises to offer three nights of dinner, bed, and breakfast for 175 pounds total, which is a bargain.  More details to follow.

Don’t be left out!

GENEROUS JOHN STRIKES AGAIN!

There are many generous individuals in this world, and many of them are named John.  But the particular John that readers of this blog will want to celebrate with me is my British “cousin” John Whitehorn.  John and I (along with Sir Robert Cox) first met in Westoverledingen in 2007 — and John was there at this year’s Whitley Bay International Jazz Festival. 

He had a manila envelope, which he presented to me.  Inside . . . treasures!  Tal Farlow:

Johnny Varro, looking more like a teenaged woodsman than a great jazz pianist.

And the much-missed Kenny Davern. 

This was a hit song, but I’d never seen the sheet music — with Louis Prima in a streamlined white double-breasted jacket. 

But I’ve saved the most amazing piece of sheet music for last.  Again, it’s a song familiar to jazz listeners from recordings by Jack Teagarden and another beloved singer:

That lovely picture was a real surprise to me: here’s a close-up of the beautiful Miss Wiley:

Now I call that superb generosity, don’t you?  Thank you, John!