Larry Kart

Among my favorite moments from the often brilliant, sometimes cranky/obtuse to the point of lunacy Max Harrison, writing here (in "The Essential Jazz Recordings. Vol. 2") of Jaws' 1947 recordings with Fats Navarro: "The dates with 'Lockjaw' Davis, an arch vulgarian who subsequently found his true metier as a cog in Basie's ponderous latter-day machine, resulted in performances which juxtapose some of the best and worst qualities that jazz has to offer. Sounding as if impaled on his own indignation, Davis naively deploys his armoury of honks and whinnyings as Navarro soars with majestic freedom. The exchange of four-bar phrases in 'Hollerin' and Screamin' ... demonstrates all too vividly the divergent ideals of this pair, with the trumpet's dancing melodic fragments answering the tenor's incoherent belches." Two or three things at the least: 1) Early Jaws can be quite raw and may be an acquired taste 2) but Max clearly not only loathes latter-day Jaws as well ("...found his true metier as a cog in Basie's ponderous latter-day machine") but refuses to make any distinction between the Jaws of '47 and the Jaws of 20 or so years further on, which is absurd to the point of insisting on something that's virtually false when you know you can be found out (an odd, creepy trait of Max's), and 3) Max takes no account of the likely fact that, as two of the titles on those Davis-Navarro dates ("Hollerin' and Screamin'" and "Stealin' Trash") virtually proclaim, Davis was quite deliberately going in a neo-R&B direction there, probably at the request of the producer, who might have thought that that approach might give Savoy an "Open the Door, Richard" type of hit. Certainly there are other recorded solos by Davis from that period where he doesn't sound that way.

Ophelie has one hell of a punim. Check her out (especially that striking prow of a nose): http://www.opheliegaillard.com/ And the excerpt of her playing is impressive too.

Either it was Dexter Gordon in conversation or Booker Ervin in a Blindfold Test who said, "Damn -- that Jaws plays backwards!" If it was Dexter who said it -- and he if didn't, he certainly said something like that -- it was said with a tone of great, bemused respect.

No, they didn't, but they're certainly weird in the sense that Drew doesn't, as one might expect for such an overtly Muzak-like date, merely damp down his normal approach to playing ballads -- which again could be quite floridly romantic though also very interesting/creative, a la Bud Powell's typical approach to ballads, in fact. Instead of doing that, which I'm sure would have filled the bill (such as it was) just as well as what he did end up doing, Drew IIRC adopts a wholly different approach that's so stiff and cheesy (like what you'd find in a circa 1932 ballroom) that it almost could be taken as parodistic, except that I'm pretty sure it's not. Was this Drew's idea or Orin Keepnews' or Bill Grauer's? (As I recall, Keepnews was the producer on one of these sessions and Grauer on the other.) Perhaps Chris Albertson would know. And if it was the producer's idea, how was it communicated to Drew? "No -- Kenny we don't want soft and pretty; we want total white-bread-and-mayonnaise-with-a-sprinkle-of-pearls-and-dog-crap-on-top stupid. Can you do that?"

The "community" point that Jim just made so well on the "Nero problems" thread is a BIG deal to me.

I know what you mean, I think, but also believe that it depends on how the analysis is done. If it's merely a way of stating in technical terms (and displaying in musical notation) what one can hear on a recording, what's the point? All that you've done in effect is draw a map in which one inch of map equals one inch of the landscape or put a label that says "leaf" on every leaf of a tree (unless there's some special, minute but vital, ambiguity at work that virtually demands musical notation for this thing even to be discussed further). But if you can point precisely to the specific musical facts that are the crucial ones -- a la the ways (to continue the tree metaphor) one might distinguish an oak from an aspen or a healthy, beautiful oak from one that's not in good shape -- then you may really have something. Example of such analysis are less common than one might wish, but a terrific one is Ted Brown's analysis of a Warne Marsh solo in Safford Chamberlain's Marsh biography "An Unsung Cat" (it's an appendix to the book). I recently lent the book to someone, but IIRC Brown is writing about a Warne solo on "Tickletoe." BTW, such an analysis can be meaningful even if one isn't that technically versed or a score reader (I am neither), because when Brown homes in on a key element in the solo and discusses its relation to other key parts and to the whole, it's fairly easy to re-listen to the solo yourself and get just what he's talking about.

Willie Pickens at the Gate sessions, too, I believe, certainly Donald Garrett; in fact, he played bass as often as Victor Sproles; and Dorel Anderson on drums. No Von Freeman, not when I was there. No John Gilmore or Clifford Jordan or John Jenkins (all probably in New York by that time) or Andrew Hill either. Julian Priester must have been on the road then with Hampton or Dinah Washington. No Richard Abrams, I think, or Eddie Harris. Trying to think of other Chicagoans who should have/could have been there but were not and why, aside from their being on the road or at other regular gigs. The clique (though "clique" probably would be too strong a way to put it) no doubt centered around Ira musically and Joe Segal as the man at the door (at the least). Also, the Gate was located on the North Side -- on Chicago Ave. (800 North, at the corner of Wabash) for whatever that's worth; the racial composition of the players was mostly Af-Am, to use some shorthand, and I never sensed that there was any hint of a "draft" in any direction. The standard that shaped things there seemed to have been stylistic comfort/compatibility and level of skill within that. Later on, when Ornette made his first records, Ira and Nicky Hill were playing Ornette's pieces (e.g. "When Will the Blues Leave") right away. Nicky, always a melodic thinker, really seemed to get what was going on there, but sadly he would be gone much too soon.

Thanks Larry, I will put that on the cover of my upcoming book...... Actually I love the cover of your book! m I do, too http://www.amazon.com/Jazz-Search-Itself-L...3609&sr=1-1 which I can say because I had nothing to do with taking this picture of Ira Sullivan, Johnny Griffin, and bassist Nevin Wilson (don't even know who took it), though it came into my possession years ago, and the publisher said they could use it (as I recall, being prepared to pay something if the photographer later showed up and could show that he/she took it). I love it in part because it looks like it was shot from the same front table at the Gate of Horn where I used to sit to hear/see Ira and Griffin at Monday night Joe Segal-run sessions circa 1957, where you could get in while in your teens because in Chicago at that time Monday was a so-called "off night" for clubs, and no alcohol could be served. Actually, I think this shot was taken somewhere else, maybe the Pink Poodle, because I have no memory of ever seeing or hearing Nevin Wilson. The usual bass player at the Gate sessions was Victor Sproles, with people like Jim Atlas, Bob Cranshaw and others sitting in. Wilbur Ware was in New York by then, I'm sure, didn't hear him "live" until later on. Usual first-call drummer was Wilbur Campbell, pianist was Jodie Christian. Heard Chris Anderson there; he was magical but was terribly frail, had to be lifted onto the stand and IIRC placed on the piano bench. Very high-intensity atmosphere at those sessions, a fast track. I remember being impressed by the way the young Stu Katz (piano and vibes) handled himself under those conditions. Other frequent visitors included, tenormen Nicky Hill, Dick Kroll (Mobley-esque), and Haig Tchian (sp?) -- it was pronounced "Tich-ee-an -- who also played alto, tackling both horns in an abrupt, "pecking" Shafi Hadi-like manner, though Tchian developed independently, had been playing this way before Hadi became known outside Philadelphia. Didn't know it at the time, but Tchian was celebrated for the large size of his organ; he carried a photo of it (in a flacid state, I believe, a la the famous magazine ad shot of Joe Maini) in his wallet; when he saw a woman he was interested in, he would show her the photo. Apparently, this worked often enough. Other pianists I recall sitting-in were Eddie Baker and the young Denny Zeitlin, who was pretty amazing -- not yet under the thrall of Bill Evans, blending his own stuff with Bud Powell and Tristano strains, as Evans himself was at that time, but Zeitlin's own early stuff was something else, almost Dick Twardzik-like IIRC. Drummers included Walter Perkins. It was a bit odd in retrospect being restricted at the time to only those local musicians who showed up at the Gate sessions, but you just couldn't get into ny another club if you were a teenager, unless maybe your parents or some other adult took you, and I didn't see my parents taking me to the Crown Propeller Lounge. The Blue Note, a few times -- to see Woody Herman, and Mulligan with Art Farmer -- and there were JATP concerts and the Basie Band-Birdland All Stars tour. I remember seeing Maynard Ferguson's band on one of those Birdland-linked tours, and during a heated solo altoist Jimmy Ford had some kind of spasm onstage -- one arm flew off the horn and began to flap around uncontrollably for about four bars. Don't know Ford in action well enough to say whether that was a mannerism or some genuine physical-mental problem, but at the time I assumed it was latter. Kind of scary, I thought.

I agree about the nature and number of the phases, and that the best of first phase was his best playing.

Been listening to "The Cat" lately, which is one of the tastiest Byrd-Adams Quintet albums (Philly Joe is in great form, there are attractive originals from Duke Pearson and Byrd, and Adams is very creative-mellow), but a la that dimly remembered (by me) review I wrote of "Slow Drag," there's something about Byrd in his several pre-Black Byrds incarnations that leaves me a bit uneasy/less than convinced for various reasons. The early Byrd (at his best perhaps on the Jazz Messengers' "Nica's Dream" date) was the "light and graceful playing on the chords" guy IMO -- a very chord-to-chord improviser in practice, I think, though with a clear desire to make the results sound lyrical (which certainly could happen), though the thinking again seemed to be more chordal than melodic, which even when it all worked out left one (at least me) with a slight feeling of unease. Then things got much less-notey, more brassy, and at times overtly simple and overtly soulful. Again, even when it all worked, as it often did, I couldn't help but feel that the most prominent but mostly concealed element in this mix was Byrd's will to make things come out this way; the simplicity and soulfulness (the former especially) both sounded so "studied," if you know what I mean -- especially in the light of the lithe, chord-running Byrd of a few years before. The transition from one style to the other seemed kind of odd, even extra-musical. Was it in some way a response to Clifford Brown's death? Also, does anyone know on which albums of the '60s Byrd is playing pocket trumpet? He is on "Fuego" IIRC, and he sounds like he might be on "The Cat" as well.

That third shot is especially nice. Lovely mood to it, lots of unobtrusive skill on your part.

If so, I can see why Jim probably wouldn't want to go into details. On the other hand, the details would matter I think, because I can't imagine (and, again, this may be my lack of imagination at work) that anything I'm aware of that's been said here over the years by anyone other than the few (?) people who've been kicked off for really bad behavior would offend anyone whom one would want to work for. I know, that sounds really arrogant or worse -- it wasn't my gig that was lost. But, practically, if it was just the fact that the band was associated with a place of the same name where relatively free speech prevailed, wouldn't such a club owner be pretty likely to find another reason or two to make the band's life miserable -- before, during, or after the gig? Now if it was about something more specific -- but what would/could that have been? Oh, wait -- what am I thinking? Was it Joe Segal? That I can understand, because Joe (God bless him for much) has said things to my face that made it clear where he stands on this and related topics.

I'm an admirer of Chris (both in his role in the world at large and on the board -- though we certainly don't agree about some things) and have never had anything but positive thoughts about Couw. But while I kind of understand what Couw means by the board's "positively huge google presence" and how "it may serve or hurt the band," I don't understand how a negative remark made here about Peter Nero could possibly hurt the band. Maybe I'm dense, but I just don't get it. Now if the board became known as a place where, say, fierce ugly remarks were often made about subjects that commonly give offense, I can see where the association via Google between those remarks and the place where they were made (and the assumption that the board's moderator has no problem with them) would/could cause some problems for Organissimo the band. But, again, Peter Nero? And are there examples of Organissimo the band being affected in its livelihood by things that have been posted here. Maybe so -- and, if so, perhaps Jim doesn't want to get into specifics -- but has that happened?

Not strictly true (I am really just picking nits***) -- the revolt itself was successful in chasing the Syrian Greeks out (with occasional setbacks) and creating a Jewish kingdom in Judea. However, about a century later the rulers of that kingdom (descended from the Macabees) fell into bickering and when Pompey the Great brought Roman legions into the Levant he "settled the dispute" by sucking Judea into the Roman orbit. Guy ***I am sure Larry's parenthetical comment was just intended as a summary of my paragraph. Thanks for the correction, Guy. Actually, I'd clean forgotten (but am pretty sure I once knew) that that much time elapsed between the revolt that overthrew the Syrian Greeks and the Roman takeover of Judea.

I like Green, who was reputed to be (and certainly sounds like) a genius instrumentalist as well as a very tasty player, but I don't think he had as much saxophone conception going as Bert and Dennis did. Also, a certain rounded-off shapeliness of phrasing seems to come so readily to Green (as did just about everything else on the trombone) that I feel that he often rested content at that admitttedly elegant level, while for Bert and Dennis it was more like ever onward. BTW, Green fans should look for the Fresh Sound reissue (on a single CD) of his two (or two of his, don't recall which it is) ABC-Paramount albums, a small group date with Jimmy Raney and a big band album with John Carisi charts, including "Springsville," which features Green and is treated as a kind of walking ballad. The big band date is not as adventurous as one might wish -- the goal seems to have been to produce a musically superior version of Les Elgart -- but within those limits the playing and writing are very good.

Great Ware on that album, also on its Riverside/OJC prequel Johnny Griffin Quartet with the same rhythm section partners as on Sextet, Kenny Drew and Philly Joe. What a team! I think they recorded together only one other time, on Drew's Riverside (and I hope OJC) album of music from "Pal Joey." On the other hand, don't be fooled into getting the Drew-Ware OJC duo album, originally on Judson I think (a Riverside subsidiary), of tunes by Harry Warren and another composer (Harold Arlen?) Drew's playing on this one is not only quite "straight" but also almost Carmen Cavallaro-like in its flamboyant, cheesy stiffness (would like to know the story behind this date, because Drew, left to his own devices on ballads, could be at once fairly florid/romantic and damned interesting). As for Ware, he is both wholly underwraps here and virtually inaudible.

Doh! And the thing there about Fast and "Fat Albert" is also someone trying to be funny.

BTW, that Wikipedia bio of Howard Fast I linked to above has at least one piece of nonsense in it: "In 1952, Fast married the beautiful singing sensation, Reba McEntire." No. And if he had, he and Ms. McEntire would have wed when she was age minus-three.

Howard Fast bio: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Howard_Fast He is, of course, the author of "Spartacus," But I didn't know that he also gave the world "Fat Albert."

In our house when we were kids our "Happy Hannukah" string of cut-out letters spelling out the phrase, which we would tack up in the front hall, somehow lost its "ann" one year. This led my little sister to celebrate the holiday then and thereafter by saying, affectionately, "Happy Hukah" (as in "Hookah"). Also, I associate Hannukah with Howard Fast's young-adult novel about the Maccabean revolt, "My Glorious Brothers" (1948), which I read several times when young. A skilled, potently sentimental writer, Fast here (as in much of his fiction) was constructing a parable that was aimed in large part at furthering the cause/vision of the American Communist Party, which Fast had joined officially in 1944. Reading that book was enlightening, because while it certainly was a ripping yarn, full of shining heroes and dark villains and IIRC a downbeat ending that was true to the historical facts (the revolt eventually met with defeat when Rome weighed in), I did begin to detect the magnetic pull of Fast's underlying propagandistic intent, without at first even knowing enough about the world at large to have a clue about what he was up to there. But I could tell that I was reading two tales at once -- the exciting tale of the Maccabean revolt and a tale about the feelings that a right-minded person was supposed to develop, nurture, and apply because of the tale that he or she was reading. This was at once very seductive -- because it gave (and was very much meant to give) one the sense that one now had a chance to possess special knowledge, special righteousness, special powers, membership in a brotherhood of the unfailingly good and true -- and very creepy, for the same reasons just mentioned.

Add more good wishes to Brownie. Deep jazz knowledge, class, knows the ways of the world (a grown-up), etc. You probably could learn important stuff from watching him brush his teeth or put on his shoes.

I love Gullin, but he and Adams (whom I like a lot when he's on his game -- i.e. not too lick-oriented) are such different players that they might as well be playing two different kinds of instrument. And Harry Carney is playing yet a third kind, and Serge maybe a fourth. Likewise with some other fine bari players, though other fine ones do seem to share a corporate instrumental identity. It's a very interesting horn.

One of the finest saxophone-influenced (specifically Lester Young) trombone players, along with Willie Dennis. Jimmy Knepper, too, but Knepper is so Knepper that he strikes me as being more in a zone of his own; with Bert, Dennis, and a few others, the kinship seems clear. There's also Earl Swope (1922-68), who kind of took one part Lester and added two parts Dickie Wells (easy to do, at least conceptually, given the great Basie recordings where Pres and Wells both solo). Swope was very influential but not, I'm fairly sure, on Bert, who also was born in 1922 and was soloing on record with Red Norvo as early as 1941-2. Getting back to Bert's playing in itself, the melodic continuity/rhythmic fluidity and overall freshness of his playing on "Crosstown" and "Kaleidoscope" is something else.

Posted this on another, more general thread, but it probably belong here: QUOTE from Jim Alfredson @ Dec 5 2007, 02:35 PM) As for moderation, I would like to have at least one helper. My brother used to help me, but he is also very busy and doesn't have as much invested in this community anymore anyway. I think the most logical person would be Sangry, but it is a job that requires a time commitment and I do not blame anyone for not wanting to be a part of that. Or maybe, as suggested, the chair can rotate every few months. Me: I might be your man for that, Jim, for starters, but tell me a bit about what's involved -- in terms of time but mostly in terms of what kinds of things have to be decided and other practicalities, not that what I just mentioned only has to do with practicalities. I can guess, of course, but I should say first that having poked my nose into almost every thread or kind of thread on Organissimo since the dawn of the forum, I've seen very few things that made it onto a thread that I had any doubts should have been there. I would tend to err on the side of freedom, though at the same time I think I have a good sense of when trollishishness is present; and that I loathe and probably would tend to try to stop in its tracks, if only because trollishness can easily destroy large portions of the landscape. Argument, even fairly angry arguments with some degree of name-calling -- OK. Mere provocation -- never.

Don't like (1) or (5) -- the latter for the same reason as J Larsen -- and (6) would make me sad if it meant the end. I voted for (2) because I almost certainly have more dough than I can spend in what's left of my life, given my tastes and needs, and I can't think of a better place or use for it. Hell, tell me what the total annual bill is and I might just pay it, but not if it would make Jim or anyone else feel creepy, as I could see that it might. What I'm saying is that if there are any fat cats here (not that I think of myself that way, but there is what I've just said), then no one should think that the support of those who can afford to give support without pain means that those people then have one iota of ownership or control. This place belongs to Jim, because he's Jim and has done what he's done, and to everyone else who's here -- evenly and equally.