Tom in RI

JAZZ Wired First Carl Smith built an archive of Sonny Rollins recorded live. Then he decided to capture the magic himself. By Geoff Edgers, Globe Staff | August 28, 2005 Carl Smith wore a plaid shirt that night, the dark pattern hiding the $700 microphones sewn into the fabric. He bought four seats in the second row of the Berklee Performance Center, and told his son and two friends to merely pretend to clap. Their presence would provide a sound buffer for his digital recorder. It was Sept. 15, 2001, and Smith's mission was to capture jazz legend Sonny Rollins as he's rarely heard on record -- live and uninhibited. As the lights dimmed, the retired Maine attorney placed the machine, just slightly bigger than an iPod, in his lap to monitor noise levels. Rollins opened the 80-minute first set with ''Without a Song," from his famous 1962 album, ''The Bridge." When Rollins approached the front of the stage, the horn was no more than eight feet from the hidden microphone. At intermission, Smith watched security eject a man trying to record the show. But the 62-year-old grandfather would not be caught. After the concert, driving home, Smith used an adapter to connect the Digital Audio Tape machine to the car stereo. ''We got it," he remembers telling the others. ''It sounds wonderful." Four years later, after a steady campaign to earn Rollins's trust, Smith is moving closer to his greater goal, which is to reveal a different side of the last living jazz giant. On Tuesday, Fantasy Records releases ''Without a Song: The 9/11 Concert," a CD documenting the show that took place four days after the World Trade Center and Pentagon attacks. Not only is this the first of Smith's live recordings to go on sale, it also signals a breakthrough in the once icy relationship with the Rollins camp, which has historically frowned on collectors. And for jazz fans, the release offers a tantalizing proposition that cuts to the heart of the Rollins conundrum. His greatness, some contend, is best heard during his live shows. But of the few Rollins concerts legitimately released, none captures the energy and excitement of the jazz improviser on a great night. ''The best of Carl Smith's stuff is staggering," says Stanley Crouch, the writer who long urged Rollins to trust Smith. ''It actually creates a kind of a reevaluation of what we consider musical creativity. When you hear this, these chumps in hip-hop and rock, they're jokes compared to Sonny Rollins." A sound collection Carl Smith, now 66, doesn't call himself a bootlegger. The Sept. 15 concert would be just one of four he recorded between 2001 and April 2003. His main job is serving as a self-appointed archivist who has, over time, acquired more than 350 live recordings of Rollins. They range from a 1949 tape of a 19-year-old Rollins trying a sax at Seymour's Record Shop in Chicago to a concert this past June in Rochester, N.Y.Continued... Smith is part of a small, passionate group of fans who believe that Rollins is at his best on stage, particularly when he doesn't think somebody is recording him. Hence, the surreptitious tapes. The archive is in Smith's house, which is next to a golf course in South Portland. The space is as neat as an operating room. Correspondence with collectors is filed alphabetically, his list of recordings organized by date. The Harvard graduate has been a practicing attorney, real estate developer, and, since the early '80s, one of the owners of a high-end stereo company, Transparent Audio. But these days, he's become the ultimate superfan, with the time, money, and ambition to serve his hero. And he doesn't want a cent for his efforts. There is more than a hint of the obsessive streak that drives all collectors. As a lifelong fan of Bud Powell, Smith acquired every known recording of the late jazz pianist then wrote and paid to publish a book, ''Bouncing With Bud," to document them. His Rollins fixation began in 2000 on the night Smith saw him in concert for the first time. Going in, Smith respected the artist without feeling particularly passionate about him. ''We got there and about five minutes into the concert I was absolutely transfixed," says Smith. ''I turned to the guy next to me and said, 'We are in the presence of greatness.' And I meant not past greatness. What I was hearing then, in the year 2000, was beyond what I had ever heard before. It was truly a life-changing experience. I went home from that concert as if I had stumbled upon a continent nobody knew about." As soon as he got home from that first show, Smith sent out e-mails to the network of collectors he had developed during his Powell phase. Send me anything you've got on Rollins, he wrote. Within two months, Smith had 50 tapes. They kept coming. Those he couldn't convert -- such as 11 reels of New York club dates from the early '70s sent by Florida collector Martin Milgrim -- Smith paid to have copied by a local studio. He also had Bob Ludwig, the Portland-based sound engineer famous for his work with Bruce Springsteen and virtually every modern-day hit maker, remaster a 1980 performance tape from Sweden. The results were stunning, and encouraged Smith to take the next step. ''I wanted to capture the best possible audience recording that had ever been done," Smith says. During the spring of 2001, Smith chose his target: He would come to Berklee to tape Rollins's September show. None of this would have pleased Sonny Rollins -- had he known about it. His wife and manager, Lucille, also had strong feelings about bootlegs. ''My wife's reaction was that somebody's taking your work," Rollins said in a recent phone interview from his home in upstate New York. From the start, Smith had tried to get his message to Rollins, contacting Fantasy Records, Rollins's label, to let it know he would give Rollins the archive so it could be released. He never heard back. So Smith started lobbying different critics. He e-mailed Gary Giddins, an accomplished author and columnist who had pleaded with his readers to see Rollins live. He contacted Crouch, the MacArthur ''genius" grant winner and confidant of Wynton Marsalis. Smith made each of them sets of highlight discs. Could they help get this stuff released? Crouch, who was working on a New Yorker profile of Rollins, flew to Maine to hear some of Smith's stash. When he returned, he talked to Rollins. ''I just told him that he was an honest man," Crouch says. ''It was kind of hard for Sonny to believe because, like most musicians of his generation, he's accustomed to people just trying to cheat him. Sonny has no precedent for this. See, it's not like here are a bunch of Carl Smiths running around." Giddins didn't feel comfortable advocating for Smith with Rollins. But he would write about him. Last August, in Jazz Times, Giddins featured Smith in a column called ''The New Benedettis," referencing the Charlie Parker fan who recorded the late saxophonist's solos during the '40s. The move backfired. Right after the column, Lucille Rollins sent Crouch an e-mail, which he forwarded. Lucille chastised Giddins for calling Smith ''noble." She warned Smith that she would have people looking for him at concerts, and his tapes would be confiscated. Disappointed, he hung up his microphone. ''I didn't want to do anything to upset the Rollinses," says Smith. ''I went back to just collecting." Meeting obligations Last winter, life changed for Sonny Rollins. Lucille, who had been ill, died of complications from a stroke in November. The studio album he had promised Fantasy wasn't done. Smith still doesn't know how or why Rollins came to approach him. But one day, Richard Corsello, Rollins's engineer, contacted Smith. He asked for his tape of the 2001 Berklee show. Rollins was thinking of fulfilling his contract with a live recording. For Rollins, the performance had been a dramatic experience. When the planes hit the World Trade Center, he was only six blocks away in his Manhattan apartment. Coming downstairs, he saw people on the street starting to panic. He headed back inside and began to practice. The next morning, National Guardsmen came to get Rollins. He clutched his saxophone as he walked down 39 flights of stairs. He did not want to go to Boston. ''I felt shaken up," he says. ''I had gulped a lot of toxic fumes when I stupidly tried to practice that day. I was unsteady on my feet. I was just mentally and physically out of it. But my wife convinced me we should do it. I felt a little rough but once I'm playing, that usually takes precedence over everything else." Today, the saxman and the archivist are both pleased the concert recording is being released. But neither claim it is Rollins's best. For the musician, a notoriously tough judge of his own work, there's more practicing to do and future gigs, including next weekend's performance at the Tanglewood Jazz Festival in Lenox. For Smith, there's the growing relationship with Rollins, who he recently visited in upstate New York to begin talking about future projects. And there's always the next day's mail, which thanks to word-of-mouth brings new treasures -- a 1978 set from a shrink in Switzerland, a Chicago concert from an English translator in Norway. On a recent weekday, Smith shares one of his latest finds. He's just had lunch at a favorite spot, on the Portland waterfront. He pops a CD into the car stereo and the melody starts. Smith pulls into a parking space so he can concentrate. With Casco Bay before him, he turns up the volume knob until the sound of the saxophone fills his Chevy Impala. Carnegie Hall, 1989, he announces. The bootleg recording, which arrived from Belgium this summer in a padded envelope, has never been released to the public. On the CD, Rollins shares the stage with Branford Marsalis, the former Sting sideman. But this is no friendly duet. On ''Three Little Words," Rollins turns the gig into a ''cutting contest," buzzing the younger player with a series of intense solos. Giddins, writing in the Village Voice, would describe Rollins's playing that night as ''the thunder of Mount Sinai." ''Branford's doing all right," says Smith, starting to narrate the almost 14-minute performance. ''But you'll see what happens when Sonny comes back." About six and a half minutes in, that moment arrives. Smith smiles. ''He's just getting started." Geoff Edgers can be reached at gedgers@globe.com. © Copyright 2005 Globe Newspaper Company.

Marty Krystall takes some bass clarinet solos on Buell Niedlinger's Big Day at Ojai that I have enjoyed quite a bit.

I don't own an mp3 player but I did notice one recently (can't remember which one) that plays FLAC files, a great plus for people dl'ing from dimadozen ect. Were I to get one I'd look for that feature.

Derek Trucks Band shows are posted regularly on bt.etree.org. His wife, Susan Tedeschi, is a regular guest. A fan posted a compilation of DTB songs all featuring Tedeschi on EZT a year or two ago that was fantastic and lead me to look for more by both, including commercial releases.

I have just one Bear Box set, Buddy Johnson, 4 discs. As referred to above the booklet with this set is really fantastic. Its all Mercury stuff, including some sessions put out by Ella Johnson and covers, I believe, 1951 to around 1960 or so.

I would ask him who he feels are the composers most likley to write new standards. I'd also ask if he feels that the scene today is condusive to creating standards or not (I don't think it is myself).

Least I think it was a Conn. I was listening to a Grant Green release with Frank Haynes and did a search on Haynes. I see he was on this, but the couple of copies I found quickly are pretty pricey. Is this disc recommended?

If Monk was the leader on the date, would only the Monk estate be responsible for signing off on release of this or would all four musician's estates have to give permission? If the Monk estate does agree to release of this material, would they automatically have a right to it or does it remain owned by the Library of Congress?

Count me as one of the mourners. Will miss all the European broadcasts that were posted.

Yes.....in good hands....

What's the deal with VoA recordings? Can they be issued commercially? Do we tax payers "own" them? Did they help us win the cold war? Wasn't there a Miles Davis VoA recording from his resurgence at Newport (55 or 56) recently issued commercially or was that from another source?

I'm not a doctor, and I don't play one on tv. But, common sense would seem to indicate that if someone (Pullen, or anyone else) leaving blood, saliva, anything on piano keys, would likely wipe them down when finished. Seems only to be common curtesy. From everything I've read I agree with Clifford Thornton. As I underrstand it, the AIDS virus cannot survive outside of the body for a long time.

I think Chuck Nessa mentioned Buddy Tate above. He takes a very convincing rnb break on Jimmy Rushing's Hey Miss Bessie (I have it on Onyx 220, Big Little Bands, its also available on disc on Classics). The Onyx lp also has a Russell Jacquet jump blues date with Dexter Gordon on board. Good stuff.

Hi Chris, according to the notes from Bloodshot Eyes on Rhino the two tenor players on Quiet WHiskey were Red Prysock and David Van Dyke and that both solo in a tenor battle.

Try William Cepeda, My Roots and Beyond. Also, check out JP Torres.

Another couple of compilations to watch for are on the West Side label from England: Groove Station, Saxblasters vol1, and Ttitanic and 23 Other Unsinkable Saxblasters. Each comp has 24 cuts with Sil Austin, Al Sears, Paul Williams,Preston Love, Jesse Powell and many more. Decent notes although short on discographical info. Hey Clem, thanks for the link to the Bear Family discs. And Harold, thanks for the feedback on The Thinman Returns. I picked up a Jimmy Forrest 45 on the Triumph label a long time ago. Anybody recommend any cd issues for Jimmy Forrest in the RnB vein? Also, have a King Curtis 45 of Wicky Wacky Parts 1 & 2 (features a great guitar solo in addtion to King Curtis). Anybody know if that's been on cd?

Another fabulous source for tenor sax dominated rockin good tunes is the Buddy Johnson Orch. I was lucky to pick up the Bear Family Buddy & Ella Johnson box set which covers from 1953-1962. Featured tenors include David Van Dyke, Purvis Henson and Johnny Burdine.

A nice recent big sax date is the Tri Saxual Soul Champs on Black Top from 1989 featuring Sil Austin, Grady Fats Jackson, and Kaz Kazanoff (also Snooks Eaglin contributing on some tracks). Half.com has this for cheap (less than $5.00). Sam Taylor's Cloudburst, cited by Stereo Jack, was released on the 1999 release that was part of Verve's Swingsation series. Sadly (personal rant coming), most of the tracks are marred by overdubs of Alan Freed providing vocal exhortations and percussion (he rings a bell). Ok, so maybe its not tantamount to drawing a mustache on the Mona Lisa but I can't listen to it. Fortunately I have a vinyl that's in ok shape. Has anyone heard The Return of the Thin Man, by Noble Watts?

I have a real fondeness of Red Prysock and Willis Jackson. A guy to look for also is Paul "Bad" Bascomb. I picked up a Delmark title by him many years ago that I still reach for. I don't know if he recorded as a leader but one of the featured tenors with Tiny Bradshaw, in addition to Red Prysock (see Soft) was Rufus "Nose" Gore. Of course anything, pretty much, by Tiny Bradshaw will provide some honking, booting tenor. Through the years I've grabbed most of Prysock's work on Mercury lp and some 45's. Saxophonograph did a nice Willis Jackson 50's RnB lp in the '80's. I think some of that material may now by out on Delmark as are several fine Tab Smith releases with Tab doubling alto and tenor. A great release in this vein is the Red Prysock/Sil Austin lp Battle Royal. I heard a story that Prysock took Austin out the night before the session and got him loaded. Side A features an uptempo sax battle with lots of 4's at teh end and each player rolling out his favorite licks. That's followed on side a by a slow blues that I think would make a great Blind Fold test item since each player steps out of the honkin persona somewhat (he doesn't solo but Kenny Burrell is on this session). Side B is a side long Take The A Train. It's one of those records that I always lsiten to side A.

I posted about cheap Arabeseques in January. You can do a search by label at Amazon. Can you search by label at Half.com? A search at Amazon showa 26 titles for Arabesque under $1 maybe 10-12 at .01, essentially available for shipping.

I would imagine the moderators at easytree took it down after reading our own relyles' post that the artist didn't wish the session to be spread.

I am curious, was the Onyx release of the Omegatape material unauthorized?

This appeared in today's Providence Journal with a little more info on this date: Magic moment in Rhode Island jazz history surfaces on CD 01:00 AM EST on Sunday, March 20, 2005 BY KEN FRANCKLING Special to The Journal Back in the winter of 1963-'64, jazz singer Joe Williams and his trio were playing a weeklong engagement at a North Providence lounge called Pio's. There was a sparse crowd one particular night because a blizzard had hit town. Unbeknownst to Williams, tenor saxophone great Ben Webster happened to be in town for a few days. Webster was waiting inside Pio's when Williams and the other musicians arrived at the club that night. Without any sort of rehearsal or planning, Webster sat in with Williams -- and perhaps for a night or two after that. Williams' trio at the time featured pianist Junior Mance, bassist Bob Cranshaw and drummer Mickey Roker. "We just walked in; there he was," Mance, now 76, recalled in a recent phone interview from his home in New York City. "That's when I met Ben, and got to know him well over the next few days and nights. It was a ball. It was evident we were having a great time." The music they made that first night -- 41 years ago -- has surfaced on one of this year's surprise jazz CD releases. Williams' Havin' a Good Time, on veteran New York jazz producer Joel Dorn's newest label, Hyena, is startling not only for its superb quality, but for the fact that it exists at all. The Webster-Williams crossing of paths in Rhode Island came three years after Williams had left the swinging Count Basie Orchestra to go out on his own. And it came just a few months before Webster would move to Europe in search of a more comfortable climate in the twilight of his career. Webster was one of the giants among the first generation of jazz saxophonists, along with Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young. From the 1930s on, he worked in the Fletcher Henderson and Duke Ellington bands, and after 1943 he fronted his own small groups and worked as a freelance soloist. By the mid-'60s, many major jazz figures were finding Europe more appealing, as the rock music revolution put jazz on the ropes in the United States. Webster died in 1973 and Pio's, the club on Woonasquatucket Avenue that in the mid-1960s hosted many nationally known jazz headliners, including saxophonist Cannonball Adderley and singer Chris Connor, closed, like so many Rhode Island jazz venues. After Williams died in 1999, his widow, Jillean Williams, donated much of his memorabilia to the Jazz Archive at Hamilton College, in Clinton, N.Y. That trove included some 90 tapes that Williams had been given, often of his own performances. As he reviewed the many tapes, Hamilton's jazz archive director, Monk Rowe, said the Pio's tape stood out. "I knew this was a specialty item, and people ought to hear this," Rowe said. "You can feel like what it felt like to be in that club that night." Rowe took several of the tapes to New York City for Dorn to hear. Dorn said he selected this particular recording for release because he was a huge fan of both Webster and Williams. "When you get world-class musicians together, they are capable of making magic on the spot," Dorn said. "That's what appealed to me about this tape. It's the magic of jazz. "Ben had performed with Joe at Newport in an all-star group, and took some isolated solos on a few Joe Williams recordings. But they never had toured or appeared together in this sort of setting, before or since. Joe was at the top of his game and had that great band. He was out there making his initial statement." "I have in storage thousands of types like this," Dorn added. "But there are so many roadblocks to get to this point. Most of them will never see the light of day. It is just uneconomical to do it." So what was Ben Webster doing in Rhode Island that week in 1964? That part of the puzzle was solved by Thomas V. di Pietro, a Providence native who is a retired sound engineer and producer. He ran a New York rehearsal and recording studio called Upsurge from the early 1960s through about 1974; he said he has now lived abroad for more than 25 years, primarily in Europe. "Ben was staying at my house in Providence for a few days when I came up to visit my sister," di Pietro, 81, said by telephone. "We went to hear Joe -- and Ben brought his horn. He sat in for a couple of nights. He wasn't paid for it. "I had a cheap tape recorder and some mikes with me. The tape was a thing for us, for the guys. "I gave a copy to Ben and to Joe. I must have given my own copy away to a friend. I don't have it anymore." Joe Williams featuring Ben Webster Havin' a Good Time (Hyena) This CD is wonderful for the mere fact that it exists, but it is extraordinary because it captures the warmth and energy only found in the intimacy of a live club performance -- on those rare dates when all of the musicians and the audience are truly in sync. Webster sat in with the band on 10 of the 12 tunes that night, most of which were popular standards out of Williams' touring repertoire. They include "Just a Sittin' and a Rockin,' " "Alone Together," "I'm Through With Love," "A Hundred Years From Today," Fats Waller's "Ain't Misbehavin' " and "Honeysuckle Rose" (the latter gets a rousing arrangement), and the Williams staple "All Right, OK, You Win." With a blizzard going on outside, it was a wonder anyone showed up at all, let alone Webster and Williams' band. At one point during the evening, someone asked Williams to sing the classic Bob Haymes-Alan Brandt pop standard "That's All." Williams was reluctant, saying he couldn't remember one verse, but added: "If anybody comes out on a night like this, and wants to hear something this pretty, we must try it." He got it right, nailing the problem lyric. Webster added a horn solo that showed why he was considered one of greatest tenor sax balladeers. As the night ended, Williams thanked the audience and said: "You may go outside and hitch up your dogsleds now."

Maybe I have screwed myself but I have used these discs on both my computer and my son's computer. My son's would not read at all until receiving the treatment. Haven't subsequently noticed any ill affects.

Thank you.