The Penguin Jazz Guide (21 page)

TOMMY DORSEY

Born 19 November 1905, Shenandoah, Pennsylvania; died 26 November 1956, Greenwich, Connecticut

Trombone

The Best Of Tommy Dorsey And His Clambake Seven 1936–1938

Retrieval RTR 79012

Dorsey; Max Kaminsky, Pee Wee Erwin (t); Joe Dixon, Johnny Mince (cl); Bud Freeman (ts); Dick Jones (p); Bill Schaffer, Carmen Mastren (g); Gene Traxler (b); Dave Tough, Maurice Purtill, (d); Edythe Wright (v). December 1935–February 1938.

Dorsey alumnus Frank Sinatra said:
‘Penguin guide?
Penguin Guide?
Hey, Sal, there’s some crazy kid here, selling guides for penguins. Get rid of him, will ya?’
(We made this up.)

A ubiquitous figure on the New York dance band circuit of the ’20s, Dorsey went on to lead one of the most successful swing-era big bands, although the jazz content of the records was often in doubt. The ‘Sentimental Gentleman’ of swing was a martinet, but he kept his band going in the post-swing era, eventually reuniting with his brother Jimmy. His perfect legato trombone style and singing high tone strongly influenced his band singer, Frank Sinatra. In 1956, he choked to death in his sleep.

Like all the great swing orchestras, Dorsey’s band was as much about dance music as it was about jazz. Relatively few of the songs survive the era; the arrangements are more functional than challenging, solos are usually kept to a minimum, and the music looks back in time rather than ahead. All that said, the trombonist could claim several virtues. While he was the principal soloist, he could call on several fine jazzmen: above all Bunny Berigan, whose tantalizing first stint with the band (a mere five sessions) resulted in ‘Song Of India’, ‘Marie’, ‘Mr Ghost Goes To Town’ and ‘The Goona Goo’, to cite four memorable solos. Dorsey also had one of the best band singers of the era, Edythe Wright (and would later recruit Frank Sinatra), as well as his Clambake Seven small group.

Dorsey’s small group was an initiative he began almost as soon as the bigger band became successful, and he ran it on and off alongside the main orchestra for the rest of his career. As with the big band, though, the group’s material is often thin and prone to novelty material. Retrieval’s 21-track selection mystifyingly leaves out some very good Sevens (including our favourite, ‘Rhythm Saved The World’, which is available on the relevant Classics volume), but otherwise offers a vivid portrait of some of Dorsey’s best playing and excellent spots for Freeman, Erwin and Dixon.

JOE MARSALA

Born 4 January 1907, Chicago, Illinois; died 3 March 1978, Santa Barbara, California

Clarinet

Joe Marsala 1936–1942

Classics 763

Marsala; Pee Wee Erwin, Max Kaminsky, Marty Marsala (t); Bill Coleman (t, v); George Brunies (tb); Pete Brown, Ben Glassman (as); John Smith (ts); Dave Bowman, Joe Bushkin, Dick Cary, Frank Signorelli (p); Ray Biondi (vn); Adele Girard (hp); Eddie Condon, Carmen Mastren (g); Jack LeMaire (g, v); Jack Kelleher, Artie Shapiro, Haig Stephens, Gene Traxler (b); Danny Alvin, Stan King, Shelly Manne, Buddy Rich, Zutty Singleton (d); Dell St John (v). January 1936–July 1942.

Shelly Manne said (1979):
‘Apparently, Joe’s mother-in-law didn’t trust Italians, thought they were all gangsters. Joe went to every length to persuade her this wasn’t so. Then one day he was standing on a street corner, eating a snack, when a sedan pulled up opposite and the guys in it started firing a machine gun, killing the man standing next to Joe on the sidewalk. He ran, and he says he could never stomach the smell of peanut butter after that!’

Armed with matinee idol looks and a dark, winey tone, Marsala also claims an honourable place in jazz history for his efforts to break down the race divide. It was an endeavour that won the respect of Leonard Feather, who composed all the material on the April 1940 session. Though Marsala had the projection and the sense of structure to perform effectively in big bands – he already had ten years in clubs and circus bands – he functioned best in small groups, notably the band which maintained a residency at the Hickory House on 52nd Street. A couple of early tracks were made for Decca under the name The Six Blue Chips;
Pee Wee Erwin was the main attraction. In 1937 Marsala married harpist Adele Girard, who had brought an attractive balance and sense of space to a front line of clarinet, trumpet and violin. In later years, and particularly on the sessions of May and November 1945, she was given more prominence, and on the late pair made for Musicraft (‘East Of The Sun’ and ‘Slightly Dizzy’) she is pushed well forward.

Neither Joe nor Adele felt comfortable with bebop and both of them went back into the studios. He effectively retired in 1948, and went into publishing, but still played occasionally, when it pleased him.

ANDY KIRK

Born 28 May 1898, Newport, Kentucky; died 11 December 1992, New York City

Bandleader, alto, baritone and bass saxophones, tuba

Andy Kirk 1936–1937

Classics 573

Kirk; Paul King, Harry Lawson, Earl Thomson, Clarence Trice (t); Ted Donnelly, Henry Wells (tb); John Harrington (cl, as, bs); John Williams (as, bs); Earl Miller (as); Dick Wilson (ts); Claude Williams (vn); Mary Lou Williams (p); Ted Brinson, Ted Robinson (g); Booker Collins (b); Ben Thigpen (d); O’Neil Spencer, Pha Terrell (v). March–December 1936.

Mary Lou Williams said (1976):
‘Andy Kirk liked what I was doing, but I got frustrated that I couldn’t put them down on paper myself. We’d sit for hours while he took them down. He was a sweet man, who knew something about music, not like Terrence Holder, who was a gambler, a fast-living type, though he could run a band.’

Though he was often out front for photo opportunities, Andy Kirk ran the Clouds Of Joy strictly from the back row. The limelight was usually left to singer June Richmond or vocalist/conductor Pha Terrell; the best of the arrangements were done by Mary Lou Williams, who left the band in 1942; as a bass saxophonist, Kirk wasn’t called on to take a solo. All the same, he turned the Clouds Of Joy into one of the most inventive swing bands. He took over Terrence Holder’s Dark Clouds Of Joy in 1929 and with the writing and arranging skills of Mary Lou Williams turned the band into a successful touring and recording unit. His biggest success was with ‘Until The Real Thing Comes Along’ in 1936. His disposition was sunny and practical and he was a competent organizer (who in later life ran a Harlem hotel, the legendary Theresa, and organized a Musicians’ Union local in New York City).

Inevitably, given Kirk’s low musical profile, critical attention is more usually directed to other members of the band. The classic Clouds Of Joy cuts are those that feature Mary Lou Williams’s arrangements and performances. The earlier material is still the best, with ‘Moten Swing’, ‘Until The Real Thing Comes Along’ and the hit ‘Froggy Bottom’ prominent. The band, surprisingly enough, has a quite distinctive sound, heavy but mobile, and with some of Williams’s signature devices, which already suggest gospel or sacred music, already evident. It’s difficult to imagine the lifestyle now but this was an orchestra that criss-crossed the country, often working under difficult conditions, but always playing, it’s said, with the kind of professionalism that comes across on these fascinating sides.

ROY ELDRIDGE

Born David Roy Eldridge, 30 January 1911, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; died 26 February 1989, Valley Stream, New York

Trumpet

The Big Sound Of Little Jazz

Topaz TPZ 1021

Eldridge; Al Beck, Bill Coleman, Torg Halten, Mickey Mangano, Norman Murphy, Joe Thomas, Dick Vance, Graham Young (t); Fernando Arbello, Joe Conigliaro, Ed Cuffee, John Grassi, Jay Kelliher, Babe Wagner, Dicky Wells (tb); Buster Bailey, Benny Goodman, Cecil Scott (cl); Omer Simeon (cl, as, bs); Russell Procope (cl, as); Sam Musiker (cl, ts); Scoops Carey, Benny Carter, Joe Eldridge, Ben Feman, Andrew Gardner, Hilton Jefferson, Howard Johnson, Rex Kittig, Jimmy Migliore, Clint Neagley, Mascagni Ruffo (as); Tom Archia, Walter Bates, Chu Berry, Don Brassfield, Coleman Hawkins, Teddy Hill, Ike Quebec, Ben Webster, Elmer Williams, Dave Young (ts); Sam Allen, Teddy Cole, Rozelle Gayle, Clyde Hart, Horace Henderson, Bob Kitsis, Joe Springer, Jess Stacy, Teddy Wilson (p); Bernard Addison, Danny Barker, Ray Biondi, John Collins, Bob Lessey, Lawrence Lucie, Allan Reuss, John Smith (g); Biddy Bastien, Israel Crosby, Richard Fulbright, John Kirby, Ed Mihelich, Truck Parham, Artie Shapiro, Ted Sturgis (b); Bill Beason, Big Sid Catlett, Cozy Cole, Gene Krupa, Zutty Singleton, Harold ‘Doc’ West (d); Mildred Bailey, Billie Holiday (v). February 1935–November 1943.

Impresario Norman Granz said (1982):
‘I think Roy might be the hungriest one of all. He has a real will to succeed, to be better than anyone else and to be able to do the old thing and the new thing with equal confidence. He walks a tightrope.’

Eldridge was the marker between swing trumpet and the bebop revolution. The archetypal high-note artist, ‘Little Jazz’ became an all too enthusiastic participant in cutting contests, sometimes neglecting expression in favour of excitement and competition. And yet he remains perhaps the greatest brass-player of the generation after Louis Armstrong, though interestingly his first great influence was Jabbo Smith rather than Pops.

Eldridge moved to New York in 1934 and was quickly recognized as a new star. The introductory bars of ‘(Lookie, Lookie, Lookie) Here Comes Cookie’ from the following year (and the first track on this fine Topaz gathering) offer a glimpse of the excitement the youngster must have caused. His ability to displace accents and play questionable intervals with perfect confidence and logic is immediately evident. More than just a high-note man, Eldridge combined rhythmic intuition with an ability to play intensely exciting music in the middle and lower register. His solo on ‘Blue Lou’ – recorded with the Fletcher Henderson band in March 1936 – is a perfect case in point. He does the same kind of thing with the Teddy Wilson band on ‘Blues In C Sharp Minor’, fitting his improvisation perfectly to the moody key; Chu Berry’s follow-up and Israel Crosby’s tensely throbbing bass complete a masterful performance. At the other end of the emotional spectrum, there are the starburst top Cs (and beyond) of ‘Heckler’s Hop’, anchored on Zutty Singleton’s tight drumming. The vocal tracks with Mildred Bailey are often quite appealing and show how responsive an accompanist Eldridge was, again able to play quietly and in contralto range when called upon. A solitary Billie Holiday track – ‘Falling In Love Again’ – gives only a flavour of that association. There’s terrific richness here, everything from the Chocolate Dandies to the Little Jazz Ensemble with Chu, which sounds like a genuinely affectionate association, but the key linking factor is Eldridge’s pin-sharp trumpet-playing. He does pathos when it’s called for, but it’s the way he bridges an old swing sound with the sharper attack and harmonic derring-do of the boppers who were just around the corner that stands out.

BILLIE HOLIDAY
^&

Born Eleanora Fagan Gough, 7 April 1915, Baltimore, Maryland; died 17 July 1959, New York City

Voice

The Billie Holiday Collection: Volume 2

Columbia 510722-2 (part of ten-CD sequence;
Best Of
compilation also available)

Holiday; Jonah Jones, Henry ‘Red’ Allen, Buck Clayton, Cootie Williams, Eddie Tompkins (t); Benny Goodman, Edmond Hall, Buster Bailey (cl); Cecil Scott (cl, as, ts); Johnny Hodges (as); Lester Young, Prince Robinson, Joe Thomas, Ben Webster (ts); Harry Carney (bs, cl); Teddy Wilson, James Sherman, Claude Thornhill (p); Allan Reuss, Freddie Green, Jimmy McLin, Carmen Mastren (g); Walter Page, John Kirby, Artie Bernstein (b); Cozy Cole, Jo Jones, Alphonse Steele (d). November 1936–September 1937.

Singer Karin Krog skipped school to hear Billie Holiday in Oslo:
‘People still don’t realize how much she was influenced by Louis Armstrong’s singing – you can hear it in her phrasing and in her timing. She has an amazing sense of time – and seems able to float the songs out over the rhythm section, making it feel as if they are swinging harder than ever. Although she’s recognized as a ballad singer, I think she was equally superb on up-tempo numbers.’

Billie Holiday remains among the most difficult of jazz artists to understand or study. Surrounded as she is by a disturbing legend, it is very difficult to hear her clearly. The legendary suffering and mythopoeic pain which countless admirers have actively sought out in her work make it difficult for the merely curious to warm to a singer who was a sometimes baffling performer. The later records place the listener in an almost voyeuristic role. Nevertheless, Holiday was a singular and unrepeatable talent whose finest hours are remarkably revealing and often surprisingly joyful.

She had a wretched childhood, but did later adopt her errant father Clarence Holiday’s surname. She was singing early and made her first records in 1933. Her pre-war sessions with Teddy Wilson established a reputation, followed by stints with Basie and Artie Shaw. Drink and narcotics problems, which attended the rest of her life, held back her solo and film career, but she worked through the ’40s, despite a spell in prison, began recording for Decca in 1944, and signed with Norman Granz in 1952. Though her still little understood musicianship stayed intact, her voice declined to a croak, and it’s hard to find a reason to prefer the later, death-rattle stuff to the energy and mischief of the younger Billie. Those who do presumably prefer the myth to the music.