jeffcrom

Well, I looked around my house and couldn't help noticing a dangerous shortage of CDs, so I've sent a PM on the Jack McDuff and the Pat Martino.

Happy Birthday!

Ornette Coleman - Beauty is a Rare Thing: Complete Atlantic Recordings. I'm listening to all the July, 1960 tracks (with Cherry, Haden & Blackwell) which were not released at the time on This is Our Music. Pretty amazing - plenty of stuff here is every bit as good as the music they picked at the time.

The Allman Joys - Early Allman (Dial). Only three years before the Allman Brothers Band's first album, but worlds away. It's not bad for a 1966 Southern blue-eyed soul band working with the musical resources available to them at the time. Their cover of Willie Dixon's "Spoonful" shows what they were trying for, but it doesn't quite make it. The most successful track is, surprisingly, the one furthest from rock or blues - their version of "Old Man River" is pretty good. It sounds like an arrangement Elvis would do, and Gregg's vocal is strong. But the track I went back and replayed when the album was over was Gregg's original "Changing of the Guard." A pretty good song, for 1966, even if it sounds nothing like the Brothers' later music.

I finally picked up this video from Jazzology, prompted by the fact that it's on sale from them for $10, and that they say there are no plans to issue it on DVD - it's in VHS format only. (By the way, it reached me quicker than any order I've ever placed from them - several days instead of the usual several weeks.) The whole thing is 35 minutes long; the first twelve minutes are devoted to Bill Russell's 1953 film on Baby Dodds' style and technique. It's fascinating, and I learned a few things. The film was shot with a silent camera, and the soundtrack recorded later. The synchronization ranges from very impressive to not very convincing, but it doesn't really matter - it's an entertaining and enlightening piece of film. This is followed by clips of Cie Frazier and Alfred Williams playing solo, but as if they were playing with a band. The tunes are "High Society" and "Maryland My Maryland," and if you know the tunes, you can tell exactly where they are all the time. The video ends with a long interview/demonstration by Milford Dolliole, recorded by Barry Martyn in 1986. There's a lot to take in about the early days of jazz, but it's going to require several viewings - even I had trouble with Dolliole's New Orleans accent. Recommended for anyone interesting in New Orleans jazz, particularly Baby Dodds. Course, you've gotta have a VCR.

She's great. Organ player's not bad.

MEV - United Patchwork (Horo); disc one.

Karlheinz and Markus Stockhausen I know that Herr Stockhausen collaborated with several of his children, but the musical partnership between Markus and him was particularly fruitful. There are so many musical families in New Orleans that I'm kind of surprised that I can't think of a father/son team that recorded together. Many such teams played together (Willie Humphrey's first gig was with his father, Willie Eli Humphrey, in 1915 or so), but off the top of my head, I can't come up with any recorded examples except for the Marsalises. Oh - Kent Jordan with papa Kidd Jordan's Improvisational Arts Quintet. And Doc Paulin's brass band album on Folkways has several sons on board. But there must be more examples.

There are only twelve notes in Western music - different folks are going to come up with similar combinations. Doesn't sound like a quote to me. But maybe I'm just being a spoilsport.

I've been thinking about this thread since Paul started it. I think I'm making it more difficult than it really is - I've been trying to distinguish between what's an overlooked classic and what's just obscure. But here are some of my choices: Dick Grove - Little Bird Suite (Pacific Jazz). I included a track on my last blindfold test, and it's actually been discussed a little around here recently, but it hasn't been reissued, and not many folks have heard it. If you think Grove is just a Gil Evans imitator, keep listening. Harlan Leonard and His Rockets - 1940 (Classics). (Or any other good Harlan Leonard collection.) Great, rough-around-the-edges Kansas City big band that recorded 23 sides for Victor in 1940. Not many big names on board, although Tadd Dameron wrote some of the charts, and Kansas City jazz aficionados will know Fred Beckett, Henry Bridges, and Jesse Price. Louis Armstrong - Disney Songs the Satchmo Way (Vista). I see a bunch of folks out there rolling their eyes, but this is one of Armstrong's last great albums, in spite of the material and the arrangements. He sings like he means it, but more importantly, improvises brilliantly on trumpet. This one has been reissued on CD by the Disney folks. MEV - United Patchwork (Horo). Okay, this one might just be too obscure to include. In the periodic discussions of the Horo label, I don't remember United Patchwork being mentioned. But it's excellent - it features the three core members of Musica Elettronica Viva (Richard Teitelbaum, Frederic Rzewski, and Alvin Curran) along with Steve Lacy, Karl Berger, and Garrett List. The play in different combinations, and cover a lot of ground. Maybe not an absolutely classic album, but it certainly deserves to be better known. Lee Konitz - Satori (Milestone). Maybe this is not neglected, but I don't remember it being mentioned around here very often, if at all. It features Konitz at his most adventurous, interacting with the great Martial Solal and one of the great rhythm teams of jazz: Dave Holland and Jack DeJohnette. Apologies if everyone already knows this one. Fun idea for a thread, Paul!

Gil Evans - There Comes a Time (RCA). I bought this 1976 album when I was 20; it has meant a lot to me in the 33 years since. The 1987 CD issue/remix adds a lot of material, but also loses a couple of tracks, removes some of the overdubs and smooths out a lot of the weirdness that made the album unique. The original remains a dense, multi-layered, intense experience. If you don't like it, I'd say try to listen past the surface into the details. If I live another 33 years, this will remain one of my cornerstone musical experiences.

Enjoyed re-reading this thread and the linked articles after listening to Mr. Kenton's Fire, Fury and Fun from 1974, featuring Shearer on Ken Hanna's "Montage."

Stan Kenton - Fire, Fury and Fun (Creative World). From 1974, with Tony Campise, Tim Hagans, and Peter Erskine in the band.

I've got it, and am listening now. I would say that this is good, solid, second-tier jazz of the time - worth hearing by anyone interested in 1920's/early 30's jazz, but not essential. The best musician is probably William B. Woodman, Sr., Britt's dad. I will say that there are some extremely rare recordings here - six sides from the West coast Sunset label, and a few unreleased test pressings.

Back to the 20's (and earlier) this afternoon, starting with Johnny Hamp's Kentucky Serenaders, a good dance band: Angry/Oh Say! Can I See You To-night (Victor batwing label) Black Bottom (Flip side is by George Olsen and His Music, and is pretty forgettable.) (Victor scroll label) What'll You Do? (Flip side is by Roger Wolfe Kahn and His Orchestra, and is a waste of talent: Mannie Klein, Miff Mole, Joe Venuti, and Eddie Lang are all in the band, to no avail.) (Victor scroll). This is the record that got me interested in the Kentucky Serenaders; it has a short, but fabulous, solo by trombonist William Benedict. No trombone solos on my other Johnny Hamp records, alas. Then played some records featuring New Orleans clarinetist Alcide "Yellow" Nunez when he was a member of the Harry Yerkes dance band stable: Yerkes' Southern Five: Railroad Blues/The Happy Six: Shake Your Little Shoulder (Columbia, 1920). These are both Yerkes groups. "Railroad Blues" is a Lucky Roberts composition, and represents one of Nunez's finest recordings, in my opinion. The Happy Six: Mystery (Flip side is by the Columbia Dance Orchestra) (Columbia, 1920) Yerkes Novelty Five: Easy Pickin's (Flip side is by Yerkes' Marimbaphone Band, and doesn't include Nunez) (Columbia 12", 1919) Novelty Five: Barkin' Dog Blues/Laughing Hyena (Aeolian Vocalion, 1920) Nunez is featured pretty heavily on most of these sides, and sounds very good. His playing is clean and technically assured. Except for a few bluesy breaks, he embellishes the melody rather than improvising freely, but his playing is very impressive nonetheless.

Was surprised to score this sealed for $10 on ebay with no contest: I'm sure you have it. I'm really enjoying it. I like Lacy best in a trio, and also love Steve Potts. Throw in "Blinks", "Stamps" and "The Throes" and I'm sold! Congrats on the steal. Yes, I've got it. I've pretty much given up using Ebay fill gaps in my Steve Lacy collection - the rare ones have gotten so expensive that they're out of my price range. Very cool that you got such a deal.

Steve Lacy - Flakes (Vista) Rome, 1974

Coupla somewhat different LPs tonight: Hamiet Bluiett - Endangered Species (India Navigation) Lou Donaldson - Cosmos (BN United Artists)

First - that Dixie LP is most certainly a bootleg - probably dubbed from the AM three-record 78 RPM album that was the first issue of this material. Rudi Blesh probably had no involvement in your Eddie Boyd LP - I don't think he was doing anything for Buck except occasionally writing liner notes for reissues of his materical. That record probably came about because Buck was living in Atlanta at the time - he issued a lot of records by Atlanta dixielanders during that period. I wasn't aware of that album - I'll keep my eyes open for it. These days Buck still sometimes issues R & B-flavored music on the Southland label.

Humorist H. Allen Smith published a book called Low Man on a Totem Pole in 1941. It's a collection of humorous anecdotes and portraits of odd individuals. The last five pages are devoted to Steve Kuhn at age two. I inherited this book from my mom. This section doesn't seem to be on the web anywhere, so as a public service, I present some excerpts from this long-out-of-print book: As I approached the conclusion of this book a letter came from a publicity man named Eddie Jaffe. Eddie is a little guy who scurries up and down Broadway in the small hours, boasting that he is the ugliest press agent in the world. He said he had a child prodigy for me to interview. There have been many child prodigies who played the fiddle or ocarina. There have been others who smoked cigars and lifted their papas off the floor. Eddie Jaffe had a different kind of prodigy, and I undertook one of my rare excursions into deepest Brooklyn to look at him. His name was Stephen Lewis Kuhn; he was two and a half years old and he lived on Avenue X in a bungalow containing his parents and some modernistic furniture. His mother is a physical-education teacher in the public schools, and his father is a buyer of hides, calling himself a “bovine dermatologist.” It was early evening when I arrived at Stephen’s house. He was a chubby youngster and, though he could neither read nor write (he couldn’t talk too well), he appeared to know more about swing music than the head usher at the Paramount Theater. Stephen had a small electric phonograph which he operated himself, playing his 150-odd records, changing the needle when the needle needed changing, bursting into baby-talk song now and again and sometimes executing a bit of tap dance in perfect rhythm. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… At sixteen months he could sing “Begin the Beguine,” “Hold Tight” and “Pony Boy.” By this time he was already disc-daffy. Now that you know something of his background, let us examine his genius as of the day I called on him. “His lullaby,” said Mrs. Kuhn, “is a two-part swing record. He gets furious if I try to sing him a conventional lullaby.” She picked up a record and held it toward Stephen, who was jigging around on the other side of the room. “What is this?” she asked. “’Pick-a-Rib,’” he said after the briefest of glances. “Benny Goo’man.” “Which part?” asked his mother. “Pot two,” he replied without hesitation. He was so far away that he couldn’t possibly have read the inscriptions on the records. Mrs. Kuhn riffled through the stack, picked out another and held it up. “’Wug-Cutter Swing!’” cried Stephen from across the room. And another one. “’Wot a Man Pay a Fess,’” he announced. It was a piece called “I Was Watching a Man Paint a Fence.” The kid could indentify every one of those records by a mere glance at it and from a distance where we couldn’t have read the titles if he had known how to read. Mrs. Kuhn said that “Pick-a-Rib” is Stephen’s lullaby song. He will not go to sleep at night unless it is played for him and he won’t be satisfied with one part. He has to have “Pick-a-Rib,” part one and then part two. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… At the time I visited him he was playing “Scrub Me Mama, with a Boogie Beat” and “The Big Noise From Winnetka” more than any other of his records. He is extremely careful in handling the records. Whenever a record is cracked Mrs. Kuhn puts it away in the bottom compartment of a secretary. That compartment, to Stephen, is a sacred tomb. His mother opened it while I was there and took out three records. “What’s the matter with these, Stephen?” she asked him. He ducked his head and put his hands over his eyes. “Cwacked,” he said mournfully. “Puttum back. Puttum back, Mama. Puttum back in dest.” Then he started to cry. “When a record breaks,” said his mother, “all the color drains out of his face, and he gets hysterical.” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… I got my hat and prepared to leave and at the door I said to his mother: “Where do you think it will all lead?” “I really don’t know,” she said. “He has always been an unusual child. He doesn’t like candy but simply adores cod-liver oil.”

Steve Kuhn - Ecstasy (ECM)

Clifford Jordan - Hello, Hank Jones (East World). A wonderful 1978 direct-to-disk record; Reggie Workman and Freddie Waits are also on board.

Hard to believe no one has jumped in yet. I've been listening, and will post my complete response in a day or two. But just to go ahead and get my first-to-identify points: 13. The Sonny Rollins Quartet, with Don Cherry, the great Henry Grimes, and Billy Higgins, playing "You Are My Lucky Star," from the album 3 For Jazz, recorded in 1963. I know the song "You Are My Lucky Star," and there's no way I would have ever known that's what these guys were playing if the booklet (I have the Rollins Complete RCA box) hadn't listed the title. That doesn't matter - here are four brilliant jazz musicians, none of whom sound remotely like anyone else. This is jazz, baby. A lot of critics say that Rollins' best recorded work is from the late 1950's, from "Worktime" on. I don't know - I think he was brilliant in the 1960's: not always consistent, but capable reaching amazing improvisatory heights. And Don Cherry, who was soon to be playing with Albert Ayler, shows himself to be perfectly capable of playing chord changes with imagination and originality. Great music.

A three-record Commodore album, recorded in 1943 and issued in 1947: Eddie Condon - Jazz a la Carte. Really nice ensemble and solo playing, with Max Kaminsky, Pee Wee Russell, Sid Catlett, Benny Morton, etc.