Archives for February 2014

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Alice Babs, the Swedish singer whom Duke Ellington once called “probably the most unique artist I know,” died today in her native Sweden. She was 90. Her breakthrough came in 1940 in the Swedish film Swing it magistern (Swing It, Teacher!) She went on to make her name in stage, motion picture and television work, singing in several genres and collaborating with violinist Svend Asmussen and other Scandinavian jazz artists. Her pure soprano voice and rhythmic ability brought her to Ellington’s attention in the early 1960s. She appeared with his band frequently, recorded with it and sang in his second and third sacred concerts. In 1972 King Gustav VI Adolf of Sweden departed from the tradition of appointing opera singers and honored Ms. Babs by naming her the Royal Court singer.

Here, she is featured with clarinetist Russell Procope in Ellington’s second sacred concert

Largely inactive in her later years, Ms. Babs had been under care for Alzheimer’s disease.

Dick Berk, a drummer admired as a developer of young talent and as a colleague of dozens of major jazz artists, died last Saturday at the age of 74. Berk had been undergoing dialysis treatment for some time in Portland, Oregon, his home in recent years. In his late teens he was Billie Holiday’s drummer, recording with her at the 1958 Monterey Jazz Festival. In 1960 he went from the Berklee School of Music to New York City, where he played with Charles Mingus, Freddie Hubbard, Monty Alexander and the Ted Curson-Bill Barron group, among others. His Los Angeles years in the late 1960s and early ‘70s saw him working and recording with a range of musicians including Cal Tjader, Ray Brown, Milt Jackson, Blue Mitchell, Georgie Auld, Nat Adderley and Phineas Newborn, Jr.

Berk’s own band, the Jazz Adoption Agency, nurtured such young talents as baritone saxophonist Nick Brignola, tenor saxophonist Jay Collins and trombonists Andy Martin and Mike Fahn. During his two long residencies in Portland, he gigged and recorded with pianist Jessica Williams and bassist Leroy Vinnegar and continued to encourage developing young players. As a sideline, he had acting roles in films, including Idiot’s Delight with Jack Lemon, and in the television shows Hogan’s Heroes, It Takes a Thief and Emergency.

From Berk’s L.A. period, let’s listen to him with Nick Brignola’s quintet: Brignola, baritone; Bill Watrous, trombone; Dwight Dickerson, piano; John Heard, bass. The piece is Horace Silver’s “Quicksilver.” Berk’s time throughout, the vigor of his solo and the strategic placement of his cymbal splashes give us an idea why so many superior players loved having him on the bandstand.

Dick Berk, RIP

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Before we leave our Slim Gaillard phase (at least for now), it seems appropriate to recall that he is a transcendental presence in Jack Kerouac’s definitive Beat Generation novel On The Road, published in 1957. One hallucinatory scene involves Sal Paradise, Kerouac’s roman à clef narrator, his traveling companion Dean Moriarty and Gaillard—or his apparition.

Nobody knows where Slim Gaillard is. Dean once had a dream that he was having a baby and his belly was all bloated up blue as he lay on the grass of a California hospital. Under a tree, with a group of colored men, sat Slim Gaillard. Dean turned despairing eyes of a mother to him. Slim said “There you go-orooni.” Now Dean approached him, he approached his God; he thought Slim was God; he shuffled and bowed in front of him and asked him to join us ; “Right-orooni,” says Slim; he’ll join anybody but he won’t guarantee to be there with you in spirit. Dean got a table, bought drinks, and sat stiffly in front of Slim. Slim dreamed over his head. Every time Slim said “Orooni,” Dean said, “Yes!” I sat there with these two madmen. Nothing happened. To Slim Gaillard the whole world was just one big orooni.

The website Schmoop, a word Slim might have invented had he thought of it, offers literary analysis of that On The Road passage.

Slim, in his simplicity of language, seems to provide something for Dean that few other characters can. Just as Dean speaks of “IT” to Sal without telling him what “it” really is, so Slim speaks in cryptic language (“orooni”) without any explanation. It may be that Slim fulfills the hero role for Dean that Dean does for Sal.

And it may be that this offers more enlightenment.

Gaillard with Bam Brown on bass and Scatman Crothers on drums.

Vout.

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In a gathering of people even younger than I, when I mentioned Slim Gaillard three of them said in unison, “Who?”

“Flat Foot Floogie,” I explained, “Cement Mixer, Putti Putti,” “Matzoh ball Oroony,” and—just to make sure they understood—”Poppity Poppity Poppity Pop Go De Motorcycle.”

Their blank stares made me realize that there must be other folks in the 21st century in need of remedial cultural education. We’ll begin with an audiovisual aid.

That was Slim Gaillard on The Tonight Show. The music as he walked off was the theme during Steve Allen’s tenure as host of the program, so it was probably the mid-1950s. By then, Gaillard had behind him a couple of decades of success that began in the late ’30s with Slim and Slam, a duo of Gaillard and bassist Slam Stewart. Their big hits were “Flat Foot Floogie” and “Cement Mixer,” novelties executed with superb musicianship. Columbia’s The Groove Juice Special CD has 20 of their recordings. Later, Gaillard teamed with another bassist, Bam Brown. Their Laughing In Rhythm: The Best of the Verve Years has several tracks that include the great bop pianist Dodo Marmarosa and such other guests as Ben Webster, Dick Hyman, Ray Brown and Milt Jackson. Slim Gaillard at Birdland 1951 is a collection of performances when he was a regular at the New York club, with Art Blakey, Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, Terry Gibbs, Brew Moore and others sitting in.

Well aware of Gaillard’s musicianship, the fathers of bebop, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, were happy to be guests on his recording session in Los Angeles on December 29, 1945. Gaillard is the pianist and raconteur, Jack McVea the tenor saxophonist, with Bam Brown on bass with Zutty Singleton playing drums in this blues titled “Slim’s Jam.”

Accurate information about Gaillard’s earliest years is hard to come by. This Wikipedia article seems to have what is available. If you would like to sample Gaillard’s extensive output of recordings, YouTube has dozens of them. Go here. In his later years, Gaillard sometimes worked as an actor in television shows including Marcus Welby M.D., Charlie’s Angels and Mission Impossible. He continued to appear in clubs in the US and Great Britain. He died in London in 1991 at age 75.

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Since we first encountered her at Sweden’s Ystad Jazz Festival in 2012, Hannah Svensson has toured with pianist Jan Lundgren, formed a quartet with the harmonica player and composer Filip Jers and is preparing to release a new album. With Lundgren and Ms. Svensson on the CD will be the guitarist with whom she appeared in Ystad, her father Ewan. They performed together recently in recital at a guitar shop in Gothenburg on Sweden’s west coast. Mr. Svensson composed the piece several years ago and titled it “Weird Blues.” Now with lyrics, it is known as “The Blues Are Never Far Away.”

For more about the Svenssons and a video from their Ystad concert, go here.

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Despite a career that began in the 1940s, the Pacific Northwest pianist Jack Brownlow recorded only two albums under his own name. When he died in 2007 Bruno, as he was known to his friends, left a stockpile of tapes from rehearsals, casual encounters and record dates. It is unlikely that any of them will ever emerge on commercially available albums, but by special arrangement with the Brownlow estate we can now and then play a piece or two on Rifftides. Here is an untitled blues that Bruno invented—complete with his celebrated chord voicings—in Portland, Oregon, late one night in 1963. The bassist is Brownlow’s young protege Jim Anderson (1941-2004), who blossomed under Bruno’s tutelage.

For an obituary of Jack Brownlow, go here. For further Rifftides posts about him, enter his name in the Search box above the right column.

Have a good weekend.