The Penguin Jazz Guide (20 page)

We don’t hear him as a mere Armstrong copyist. There was a genuinely original talent there, too. He lived to a ripe age and wrote a hilarious memoir,
Trumpet on the Wing
(some of the stories may be what Huckleberry Finn called ‘stretchers’), but retired to Las Vegas and made no more records after the end of the ’50s.

TINY BRADSHAW

Born Myron C. Bradshaw, 23 September 1905, Youngstown, Ohio; died 26 November 1958, Youngstown, Ohio

Voice, piano, drums

Breakin’ Up The House

Proper Pairs 23 2CD

Bradshaw; Shad Collins, Talib Dawud, Billy Ford, Henry Glover, Lincoln Mills, Sammy Yates (t); Leslie Ayres (t, p); Leon Comegys, Eugene Green, George Matthews, Andrew Penn, Alfonso Young (tb); Don Hill, Bobby Holmes, Russell Procope, Sonny Stitt (as); Ornington Hall (as, bs); Pritchard Chessman, Rufus Gore, George Nicholas, Red Prysock (ts); Happy Caldwell (ts, cl); Charlie Fowlkes (bs); Duke Anderson, Wild Bill Davis (p); Jimmy Robinson (p, org); Les Erskine, Willy Gaddy, Leroy Harris, Bob Lessey (g); Clarence Mack, Curley Russell, Eddie Smith, Leonard Heavy Swain (b); Arnold Boling, Earl Fox Walker (d); Dorena Deane, Jack Wolf Fine (v). September 1934–July 1951.

Pianist Billy Taylor said (1999):
‘We’d see Tiny Bradshaw at the Howard in Washington, when he came through town. Always an exciting show, and right there you have the real start of the rock and roll style, though those guys could
really
play.’

‘He wrote and played them all,’ it says on the cover of
The Great Composer
, a compilation of Bradshaw’s R&B material for King, and while that’s a bit overdone, he was a fantastic entertainer whose energy impressed Johnny Hodges. His was also a band in which jazz masters of the future cut their teeth, Russell Procope in the early, swing-oriented group, Sonny Stitt a decade later after Tiny had moved over to more commercial recording. A master of blues and jump, born in Youngstown, Ohio, he graduated in psychology from Wilberforce University but decided to stay with music instead, working with Luis Russell and the Mills Blue Rhythm Band. This Proper set covers the waterfront from the early material, on which Bradshaw scats like he’s standing on the third rail, all the way through the years of struggle to his return to recording in his final decade. It’s not subtle music, and on record it presumably misses the key dimension of Tiny’s Cab Calloway-inspired dancing and cavorting. ‘Well, Oh Well’ and ‘The Train Kept A’Rollin’’ were jukebox hits and the latter was even picked up by the rock and roll crowd: The Yardbirds played it, and so more recently have Aerosmith. The later jump sides are fairly generic, but Bradshaw never fails to entertain.

DJANGO REINHARDT
^&

Born Jean-Baptiste Reinhardt, 23 January 1910, Lieberchies, Belgium; died 16 May 1953, Fontainebleau, France

Guitar

Django Reinhardt 1935–1936

Classics 739

Reinhardt; Bill Coleman, Alex Renard (t); George Johnson (cl); Maurice Cizeron (as, f); Alix Combelle (ts); Garnet Clark, Emil Stern (p); Stéphane Grappelli, Michel Warlop (vn); Pierre Ferret, Joseph Reinhardt (g); June Cole, Lucien Simoëns, Louis Vola (b); Freddy Taylor (v). September 1935–October 1936.

Guitarist Martin Taylor says:
‘Whenever I meet guitarists who tell me they’d love to play like Django I tell them to listen to Louis Armstrong. That’s what Django did, that’s why Django phrased everything the way he did. Louis was Django’s hero. Just listen to Louis Armstrong play and you’ll understand what Django was really about.’

One of the Christian-name-only mythical figures of jazz, Django reinforces the dangerous notion that damage is a spur to great art. Django’s technical compass, apparently unhampered by loss of movement in two fingers of his left hand (the burn ended his apprenticeship as a violinist), was colossal, ranging from dazzling high-speed runs to ballad playing of aching intensity. The personal myth almost outstrips the music. Django’s survival as a gypsy in occupied Europe famously depended on a jazz-loving Luftwaffe officer who saved
him from the camps and inevitable liquidation. Ironic, perhaps, given the guitarist’s self-destructive personality.

Pity the poor discographer who has to approach this material. The Reinhardt discography is now as mountainous as his native Belgium is flat. The principle seems to be that anything with ‘Paris’ or ‘swing’, either in conjunction or separately, will sell records; and there is the additional problem that Django’s name has become so iconic that it alone is often deemed enough. There are huge numbers of compilations on the market, some of them of questionable authority and quality, often inaccurately dated and provenanced and with only notional stabs at accurate personnels. However, only a plain fool could put out a compilation of Django’s music that wasn’t listenable, so the final choice will bear on the pocket, patience and hi-fi obsessions of the buyer/listener.

Classics are not known for their audio quality, but they document the music closely and painstakingly and, for reference, these performances include the finest of Django’s pre-war work. The riches here may not seem like the most obvious ones – ‘Nuages’ most obviously of all – but they include ‘Djangology’, ‘The Object Of My Affection’, ‘Georgia On My Mind’, ‘Shine’, ‘After You’ve Gone’, tracks that find the Hot Club at its first peak, recording for HMV. There are also some excellent numbers with Django and Grappelli recorded with pianist Garnet Clark and the band of Michel Warlop.

There’s little point analysing this music track by track. Its ease and grace shine through the ‘audio rubble’ virtuoso engineer Ted Kendall managed to clear away for the splendid JSP box, which is our pick for a more complete survey of the music, in handsome sound.

& See also
Pêche À La Mouche
(1947–1953; p. 111);
STÉPHANE GRAPPELLI, Jazz In Paris
(1956; p. 182);
MARTIN TAYLOR, Spirit Of Django
(1984; p. 486)

BENNY GOODMAN
^&

Born 30 May 1909, Chicago, Illinois; died 13 June 1986, New York City

Clarinet

The Complete Small Group Sessions

RCA Victor 68764 3CD

Goodman; Lionel Hampton (vib); Teddy Wilson, Jess Stacy (p); John Kirby (b); Buddy Schutz, Dave Tough, Gene Krupa (d). July 1935–April 1939.

Lionel Hampton said (1990):
‘Kids nowadays probably don’t appreciate this, but in the 1930s, to see a black man playing alongside a white man on a stage was still a shocking sight. I have always respected Benny Goodman for doing that.’

Goodman studied clarinet from the age of 11, began working two years later, and joined the Ben Pollack band in Chicago. Studio work in New York followed until he began bandleading in 1934, becoming one of the most popular in America, and with the famous Carnegie Hall concert in 1938 made swing a national pastime. Unlike others, Goodman survived the big-band decline and toyed with bebop, as well as occasionally playing the classical repertoire. He continued to tour with small groups and occasional big bands in the ’70s and ’80s. Despite a martinet reputation, he was a hugely successful leader. The early hot style matured into a calmer manner, marked by unflinching dedication to his instrument.

Goodman’s small groups set a new standard for ‘chamber-jazz’, the kind of thing Red Nichols had tried in the ’20s, but informed with a more disciplined – and blacker – sensibility. That said, Goodman’s own playing, for all its fineness of line and tonal elegance, could be blisteringly hot, and he is by far the strongest personality on all their records,
even with Hampton and Krupa present. These tracks have been out many times over the years, but this is a notably handsome and comprehensive presentation. Perhaps the trio sessions, made before Hampton’s arrival, are the most satisfying, since the brilliant empathy between Goodman and Wilson is allowed its clearest expression. Certainly the likes of ‘After You’ve Gone’ and ‘Body And Soul’ express a smooth yet spontaneously refined kind of improvisation. Hampton made the music swing a little more obtrusively, yet he often performs a rather contained ensemble role, the vibes shimmering alongside Wilson’s piano, and it created a fascinating platform for Goodman’s lithest playing. Soon to be formulaic, but it was a very good formula.

& See also
At Carnegie Hall 1938
(1938; p. 65);
B.G. In Hi-Fi
(1954; p. 157)

FATS WALLER

Born Thomas Wright Waller, 21 May 1904, New York City; died 15 December 1943, Kansas City, Missouri

Piano, organ

Fats Waller 1934–1935

Classics 732 / 746 / 760

Waller; Herman Autrey, Bill Coleman (t); Floyd O’Brien (tb); Rudy Powell (cl, as); Gene Sedric (cl, ts); Mezz Mezzrow (cl, as); Al Casey, James Smith (g); Billy Taylor, Charles Turner (b); Arnold Bolling, Harry Dial (d, vib). September 1934–August 1935.

Pianist Dr Billy Taylor said (1991):
‘I saw Fats at the Lincoln Theater [in Washington, DC]. He was playing organ right in the middle of the hall where I could see his feet on the pedals. He walked right by me later, a huge guy with his entourage all round him, but I was struck dumb. I couldn’t say anything. This was a kind of God, right?’

The son of a clergyman, Fats worked in vaudeville until the mid-’20s and began composing with lyricist Andy Razaf. His fame came with the ‘Fats Waller And His Rhythm’ sessions for Victor, which began in 1934 and yielded hundreds of titles. A nonpareil humorist and lampooner of trite pop whose own best songs have remained in repertory, and ‘Jitterbug Waltz’ even appealed to modernists like Eric Dolphy. His piano style, which emerged from stride, was percussive and swinging, delicate and whimsical. He died of pneumonia on an overnight train.

Waller worked hard in the studios, and though his material has been traditionally looked down upon, he did usually make the most of it, even if the relentless clowning, yelled asides, importuning of soloists and general mayhem obscured much of what his hands were doing at the keyboard. This is often knockabout music, but whenever he gets to a good melody or does one of his own better tunes – such as the 12-inch master of ‘Blue Turning Grey Over You’ – its underlying seriousness rises to the surface. Autry and Sedric, the most ubiquitous yet least recognized of horn-players, are always ready to heat things up. Bill Coleman’s presence on a few early sessions introduces some of his elegant horn, and the almost forgotten Rudy Powell replaced Sedric on several of the 1935 dates.

There’s now a good comprehensive run of Waller’s Rhythm recordings and his various solos, easy to follow in this format and respectably remastered. The first of these three volumes includes four piano solos as well as the session which produced ‘Serenade For A Wealthy Widow’; ‘Baby Brown’ is another good one. The middle one has ‘Rosetta’, ‘I’m Gonna Sit Right Down And Write Myself A Letter’, the outstanding ‘Dinah’ and ‘Sweet And Slow’. The follow-up 1935 volume includes several more of the best Rhythm tracks, with one of the best ever versions of ‘Somebody Stole My Gal’.

JESS STACY

Born Alexandria Stacy, 11 August 1904, Bird’s Point, Missouri; died 5 January 1994, Los Angeles, California

Piano

Ec-Stacy

ASV AJA 5172

Stacy; Bobby Hackett, Muggsy Spanier (c); Charlie Teagarden, Harry James, Ziggy Elman, Chris Griffin, Yank Lawson, Lyman Vunk, Max Herman, Billy Butterfield, Pee Wee Erwin, Anthony Natoli, Nate Kazebier, Bunny Berigan, Ralph Muzillo (t); Floyd O’Brien, Red Ballard, Joe Harris, Murray McEachern, Elmer Smithers, Buddy Morrow, Will Bradley, Jack Satterfield (tb); Benny Goodman, Johnny Hodges, Pee Wee Russell, Danny Polo, Hymie Schertzer, Bill De Pew, Dick Clark, Arthur Rollini, George Koenig, Vido Musso, Bud Freeman, Dave Mathews, Noni Bernardi, Matty Matlock, Art Mendelsohn, Eddie Miller, Gil Rodin, Sal Franzella, Henry Ross, Larry Binyon, Julius Bradley, Arthur Rando (reeds); Nappy Lamare, Allan Reuss, Frank Worrell, Ben Heller (g); Israel Crosby, Sid Wess, Artie Shapiro, Harry Goodman, Bob Haggart (b); Specs Powell, Gene Krupa, George Wettling, Ray Bauduc, Mario Toscarelli, Buddy Schutz (d); Lee Wiley (v). November 1935–June 1945.

Concord Records president Carl Jefferson said (1987):
‘I talked to a lot of piano-players while we were planning the [Maybeck Recital Hall] series, and I was surprised how many mentioned Jess Stacy. I’d never heard him quoted as an influence, but everyone seemed to respect him, and I was surprised to find he was still alive.’

Jess Stacy’s solo on ‘Sing, Sing, Sing’ at the famous 1938 Benny Goodman Carnegie Hall concert is a high point of the swing era, but Stacy remains surprisingly little known apart from that and has only been taken up by a few enthusiasts. Stacy freelanced in Chicago until he joined Benny Goodman in 1935, and stayed – apart from a spell with Bob Crosby – for a decade. He later became a Condonite but left music to sell cosmetics in 1961, returning to the festival circuit in the next decade.

After a period of neglect, the great man was suddenly well represented on record. Classics’ patient documentation of Commodore and Varsity material from 1938 and 1939 has its advantages but this ASV volume (which duplicates a good deal of stuff) usefully covers sideman work with Benny Goodman, Bob Crosby, Lionel Hampton, Bud Freeman and Pee Wee Russell for an exceptionally well-rounded portrait of a man who appeared in many interesting situations. His unassuming virtuosity went with a deceptively romantic streak – ‘the intensity of Hines with the logic of Bix’, as Vic Bellerby puts it – and his impeccable touch and undercurrent of blues feeling, even if tempered by a rather civilized irony, give him a rare position among the piano-players of the era. Anyone seriously interested in Stacy should certainly also get the Classics set for the two splendid blues-based fantasies in ‘Ramblin’’ and ‘Complainin’’ and an excellent solo session from 1939, but the ASV offers several rarities, including an aircheck version of Beiderbecke’s ‘In A Mist’, three 1944 duets with Specs Powell and the beautiful ‘Down To Steamboat Tennessee’ with Muggsy Spanier and Lee Wiley.