Our new stove chimes a catchy riff that has been challenging me to recognize it. Finally, it hit me: the stove’s timer chirps the first four bars of Duke Ellington’s “Creole Love Song.” This is a remarkable coincidence or the engineering staff at KitchenAid has the hippest designer in the appliance business. Either way, it’s a bit of serendipity with which I am happy to be greeted every morning when my tea has steeped.
I don’t have a recording of the timer, but here is the first—and many listeners think the best—of Ellington’s many recordings of “Creole Love Call,” from October 26, 1927. The band was Ellington, piano; Bubber Miley and Louis Metcalf trumpets; Joe “Tricky Sam” Nanton, trombone; Otto Hardwick, Harry Carney and Rudy Jackson, reeds; Fred Guy, banjo; Wellman Braud, bass; Sonny Greer, drums. The vocalist, at once ethereal and earthy, is Adelaide Hall. Gunther Schuller has written of the “radiantly singing New Orleans-styled solos” by Miley on trumpet and Jackson on clarinet.
The nonagenarian pianist presented de Barros with every biographer’s hope, unrestricted access to his subject’s personal papers and nearly unrestricted access to her private thoughts. He made the most of it, turning exhaustive research and hundreds of hours of interviews into a true story with the sweep of a novel. From the early discovery of McPartland’s musical gift through her wartime service, her ecstatic and stormy marriage to Jimmy McPartland, her growth as a pianist, her deep affair with Joe Morello, and the radio show that made her a national figure, she has had a fascinating life. It makes a splendid read.
Mulligan’s Concert Jazz Band had three fewer musicians than most big jazz outfits. Its size permitted precision, flexibility and subtlety, yet the band had the power of sprung steel. In this concert from a half century ago, the CJB is as fresh as yesterday. Arrangements by Mulligan, Bob Brookmeyer, Al Cohn and Johnny Mandel set standards to which big band writers still aspire. Bassist Buddy Clark and drummer Mel Lewis inspired Mulligan, Brookmeyer, Conte Candoli, Gene Quill and Zoot Sims to some of the best soloing of their careers. This beautifully produced issue of the complete concert is a basic repertoire item.
Well, I may sound like the typical German Dr. Weisenheimer now, but Duke Ellington has stolen Creole Love Call from Joe ‘King’ Oliver:
Camp Meeting Blues (1923)
Alas, the King’s own version lacked the Duke’s mens’ magic celebration of the, err, “new” acquisition
Ricky Riccardi has dedicated a very informative article on the history of the original at his wonderful Louis-Armstrong Blog.
Thanks for the music link and for the Riccardi post.
So was it Buster Bailey or Jimmie Noone? But even more intriguing, was that solo improvised or written?