With the blazingly honest message heading, “Terrible Pun,” Rifftides reader Don Frese writes from the University of Maryland:

As part of my last duties as a librarian before retirement, I am wading
through Garrison & Morton’s Medical Bibliography to identify which historically important books we own so that they may be tagged for keeping as we prune our collection to make room for renovations to the building. Just now, I was in the psychoanalytic section, and seeing Carl Jung reminded me of my never-used idea for an album title.
I wanted someone to title one of Shelly Manne’s dates, Manne and His Cymbals, but alas, it never happened.

Alas.

Charlie Barnet was one of the first guys I thought was unique. I can tell you step-wise how the alto players got to me. The first one I knew played alto was Jimmy Dorsey. Then Johnny Hodges and Benny Carter and Willie Smith. Then when I first heard Charlie Paker I heard something different, really different. There were some guys who were trying to sound like Charlie Parker. Then I began to notice Charlie Barnet for the first time, even though he’d been on the scene. He was saying an awful lot of different things. He was peculiarly original from the outset. He played only like himself. And not just on alto. Here’s a guy whose tenor playing was far more influential than people realize. A great number of rock and roll players utilize Charlie Barnet devices. The so-called “chicken” tenor sax playing of King Curtis and Boots Randolph–direct quotations from Charlie Barnet thirty years ago.

On Jazz Review, WDSU, New Orleans, September 2, 1967, quoted in Jazz Matters: Reflections on the Music and Some of its Makers.

Tony Scott’s death at eighty-five in Rome on March 28 set off a flurry of remembering by people who may not have thought about him for years. A clarinetist with a large sense of daring, a massive sound and nearly supernatural upper range, Scott was an important player in the New York bebop milieu of the late 1940s, an intimate of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. He was an encourager of post-bop talent in the fifties. He exposed Bill Evans as the pianist’s career began to accelerate in the mid-1950s, hiring Evans regularly and featuring him on recordings.

Whether or not he initially intended to be, with a big-selling album, Music For Zen Meditation, in the sixties Scott was a pioneer of what came to be known as new age and world music. He was also a character known, even celebrated, for his conviction, flamboyance and occasional outrageousness. Jazz Times has a comprehensive, if rather dry, Scott obituary on its web site. The New York Times obit includes a splendid latterday photograph and the late critic John S. Wilson’s description of Scott “playing his clarinet in his own uncompromisingly distinctive manner, a manner which encompasses both a feathery, light-as-air impressionism and an intense, emotional ferocity that makes the old-time ‘hot’ men sound as though they were blowing icicles.”
Scott and I conducted a sporadic correspondence that began after I did a radio program about him in 1967. It fell off for a few years, then resumed in October of 1982 with a letter from Rome. I’m sharing the letter with you because it gives a sense of Scott’s personality and the passion with which he lived his life. I retain his punctuation, spelling and usage. My clarifications are in parentheses.

Hello Doug are you still there? I left NYC for Europe 1967. To Africa 1968/70. Live Italy 1970 till now. I am still alive and kicking. I have written a book. 700 pages of my life in jazz with Bird Lady Ben (Charlie Parker, Billie Holday, Ben Webster), 52nd St, Harlem, jazz in NYC 1939 till I left in 1959. My life in jazz with the giants, my travels, philosophy. About 100 photos I took of Lady Miles Ben Prez Mahalia (Holiday, Davis, Webster, Jackson).
My past has been 1967 to Europe with wife/child. 1968/70 to Africa playing a jazz show with locals I trained in luxury hotels. Then settled in Senegal 5 months study African music/rhythms.
1970 to Italy Roma to settle. Played mostly with Romano Mussolini on tour. Enjoyed life in Roma. 1975 divorced. Wife remarried. Two daughters Nina 10 Monica 5 live in Roma. I leave Italy for jobs in Europe for 2 years. Tired of travel. Stay in Roma 1977/78 see daughters – practice piano write music for big bands in Italy and Europe. Pays aboutr $3000 a show total for 3 day rehearsal & radio concert with public. 1979/80 travel around Europe always based in Roma.
1981 in and out of Italy. 1982 stay Holland 8 months with nice lady. Have $10,000 dental work. Lose feeling to play clarinet. Write book. Made a suite “African Bird” dedicated to Charlie Parker in 1981. Recorded in London. Glenn Ferris (USA) trombone, percussion, marimbas, flute, alto and vocal. Hope to sell in USA when I come in November for one month to sell book and “African Bird.”
See lots of old friends on tour Dizzy Buddy Blakey (Gillespie, De Franco, Art Blakey). Seems they are all here to work. I like Italy. My roots. I played with Kenny Clarke (drummer) in Sicily at festival. Good success. We played bebop. I want to do college tour with Kenny plus talk and photos & films of old days, Bird Monk Harlem. Kenny is 69 but OK and wants to make college tour with me. I need to play with my cats to get an urge to play clarinet.
My Music For Zen Meditation gives me money to live on. Sells 15,000 a year for 10 years now. 10,000 in Europe, 5,000 in USA. Japan put out my RCA Big Band with Clark Thad (Terry, Jones), Bill Evans. Made 1956. Have you got it?
In USA, thinking of teaming up with Buddy De Franco for a clarinet clan show. Regards to any fans or friends.
Tony

Scott’s autobiography has never found a publisher. I’m told that members of his family are still trying to place it. His web site, yet to be updated with his death, has historical sections and photos.

My internet service provider, Charter Communications (remember that name) is providing internet service hit or miss today. Mostly miss. When it gets on an even keel, Rifftides will resume posting. Mostly hit. Thank you for your patience.

The Spoleto Festival USA chamber group is on tour in the Pacific Northwest under the direction of the festival’s founding director, the venerable and irrepressible Charles Wadsworth. Friday night in the Spoletinians’ (new word) concert at The Seasons, Cellist Andres Diaz and violinist Chee-Yun played the Pascaglia for Violin and Cello, a ravishing set of variations by Johan Halvorsen on themes by Handel. At one Steinway, Wadsworth and Stephen Prutsman roared through three Hungarian Dances by Brahms, reinforcing my conviction that Brahms is the true father of stride piano. Chee-Yun, Diaz and Prutsman did a splendid Haydn Trio for Violin, Cello & Piano.
After intermission came the familiar Sonata for Clarinet & Piano by Francis Poulenc with Wadsworth and the young virtuoso Todd Palmer, a clarinetist with amazing facility, feeling, and consistency of tone in every register of the horn. Smetana’s big, powerful, seldom-heard Piano Trio in G-Minor was the official closer, but introducing it Wadsworth told the audience that the group had prepared an encore and were going to play it even if the Smetana was a dud and got no reaction. The Smetana was not a dud.
There being no such animal as a classical piece for two pianists, cello, clarinet and violin, Prutsman had written the encore. It was a riotous set of variations on Gershwin’s “I Got Rhythm” that started with crippled cadences and ending up swinging hard. Palmer was operating in Benny Goodman territory, even higher; Artie Shaw territory. He managed one of those classic 1930s poses with his clarinet pointed practically straight up. At dinner after the gig, I asked Palmer and Wadsworth how much of the “Rhythm” extravaganza had been improvised. “Much more than you might think,” Palmer said. Wadsworth merely laughed.
Wadsworth had the hippest spoken line of the night. Introducing the Poulenc and discussing the chords of that impressionistic French classic, he told the audience, “Poulenc used these harmonies even before Bill Evans used them.”

There seems to be concern among its competitors in internet technology that YouTube will rule the world. I suppose that no one is in favor of universal domination–except, possibly, YouTube–but when they come up with clips like this one from the 1983 Aurex Jazz Festival in Japan, they deserve thanks.

Sept.2,1983
SHORTY ROGERS(Flugelhorn)
BUD SHANK(AltoSax)
JIMMY GIUFFRE(TenorSax)
BOB COOPER(TenorSax)
BILL PERKINS(BaritoneSax)
PETE JOLLY(Piano)
MONTY BUDWIG(Bass)
SHELLY MANNE(Drums)

All but Shank and Giuffre are gone, worse luck. This was around the time that Shank swore off the flute to concentrate on being a full-time bebop alto saxophonist. It’s hard not to miss his incomparable flute, but with alto playing like this, who can complain? My only argument with this performance is that Perkins’s baritone solo is at least one chorus too short.
For dessert, try “Infinity Promenade.” It’s not quite the same without the scorching double trumpet lead of Maynard Ferguson and Conrad Gozzo on the original recording, but we get a nice round of sixteen-bar solos.
PS: The original posting of this item included the wrong assumption that Jimmy Guiffre was dead. He is not. The Rifftides Staff regrets the error and apologizes.

allaboutjazz.com is out with its annual April 1st collection of reviews covering previously undiscovered jazz albums. It contains several surprising disclosures, including this one from Ken Dryden’s review of Paul Desmond’s Autumn Leaves: The Lost Vocal Session.

It was recorded during the making of the album 1975: The Duets with Dave Brubeck. Desmond, who at the time was seeing a young lady in her early twenties, wanted to make a special recording just for her. So the alto saxophonist sang for the first and only time on any record, something that he intended for her ears only, with Brubeck as his sole accompanist.

Dryden also unearthed Tonight At Noon, a buried CD of Jane Monheit singing works of Charles Mingus.

With a strong supporting cast of European musicians, Monheit tackles the difficult works of Charles Mingus on stage at Ronnie Scott’s in London. She nails “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat,” the moving tribute Mingus wrote in memory of Lester Young, offering a powerful interpretation that will silence earlier critics. She shows off her playful side with her adept scatting through the brisk arrangement of “Boogie Stop Shuffle,” trading licks with trumpeter Harley Herald.

And who would have guessed that Jerry Lee Lewis recorded an album in tribute to one of the great boogie-woogie pianists, The Killer Plays Boogie Woogie Classics by Meade Lux Lewis.
To find all of the AAJ April Fool’s reviews by Dryden, Jack Bowers, Jim Santella and others, click here.

Vibraharpist, composer, teacher and entrepeneur Charlie Shoemake writes from Cambria, California:

Regarding a recent column of yours about the shrinking audience for jazz, I’m happy to report that our concert series here in Cambria is now in its sixteenth year and though we broke an attendance record last year, this year is even stronger with sold-out crowds for almost every event. (Still about thirty Sundays a year). Of course the first four years were in the red and I’m sure that there are no club owners who would have stuck with it for even close to that long. Since Sandi and I were the sole responsible party financially, that is no doubt the only reason the series was able to finally gain its footing. At any rate, I wish there hundreds more like it around the country. (We just need more jazz musicians to have a feel for Wall Street).

Mr. Shoemake’s virtuosity extends beyond the keyboard. He also plays the market.

In the adjoining column, you will find five new Doug’s Picks; three CDs, a DVD and a book. A long time ago, we eliminated the food category. No one noticed, and it’s not coming back.
As for the promise of more reviews today, well, the Picks are reviews. First thing in the morning, I’m hopping with both feet into a deadline assignment. See you on the other side.

I’ll be back tomorrow, probably, with more reviews. Something came up. In the meantime, please browse the Rifftides archive, conveniently linked in the right-hand column. The Doug’s Picks recommendations have an archive all of their own. Simply click on the world “More” at the end of the current picks.

ACCORDION, n. An instrument in harmony with the sentiments of an assassin.
–Ambrose Bierce, The Devil’s Dictionary
A gentleman is one who knows how to play the accordion but refrains from doing so. –attributed to Mark Twain (and many others)
I am not a demon. I am a lizard, a shark, a heat-seeking panther. I want to be Bob Denver on acid playing the accordion. –Nicholas Cage

Delfeayo Marsalis and his quintet are kicking off a national tour this weekend with a concert at The Seasons. Realizing that I was going to hear Marsalis brother number three in person for the first time, I listened to his new CD, Minions Dominion, which has come in for considerable attention. From the relatively little I had heard of him, I was predisposed to the warmth and humor of his trombone playing, as I made plain in a 2003 Jazz Times review of a CD he made with his father Ellis and brothers Wynton, Branford and Jason.

Delfeayo, boisterous and exceedingly tromboney, is featured to great effect on Tyree Glenn’s “Sultry Serenade,” aka “How Could You Do a Thing Like That to Me?” He delights in finding humorous alternate notes to use in “running out of key,” as the preboppers used to say.

Marsalis makes further wry uses of diminished scales in “Brer Rabbit,” the jaunty blues that opens the new album. He applies them here and there throughout the CD. His seriousness as a player and a composer is also apparent, notably in a thoughtful ballad, “If You Only Knew,” and in “Lost in the Crescent,” a story-telling piece that pairs him with his brother Branford on soprano saxophone in a colloquy of stylistic and temperamental contrasts. Branford’s tenor sax playing on three other tracks is among his best recent work on record.
Alto saxophonist Donald Harrison is on three pieces. With the late drummer Elvin Jones slashing and prodding behind him, he is notably adventurous on “Weaver of Dreams.” Mulgrew Miller is the impressive pianist, Eric Revis, the bassist. Sergio Salvatore is on piano and Edwin Livingston on bass in “If You Only Knew.” In all cases, the drummer is Jones, one of Delfeayo Marsalis’s mentors, a towering presence in this satisfying album. Marsalis has had an effective career as a producer. At forty-one, stepping out from behind the scenes, he seems more than ready for the spotlight.

I told you more than a year ago about Hinesight, pianist Harold Danko’s terrific trio tribute to Earl Hines. It’s high time that I mentioned Danko’s quite different quintet CD called Oatts and Perry. That is the title because of Danko’s admiration for alto saxophonist Dick Oatts and tenor saxophonist Rich Perry, his colleagues since their days together in the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Jazz Orchestra.
Quiet as it is bafflingly kept, Oatts and Perry are two of the most resourceful, inventive and stimulating soloists in jazz, and have been for more than two decades. Finally, Danko assembled them in a studio with bassist Michael Formanek and drummer Jeff Hirshfield and produced one of the best jazz albums of 2006. The repertoire consists of classics by Romberg, Coltrane, Monk, Sam Jones, Thad Jones, Horace Silver, and Danko’s own jazz standard, “Tidal Breeze.” In an age of soundalikes, Oatts’ and Perry’s styles are contrasting, compatible and full of easily identifiable individuality. Their work in ensemble and in solo on Monk’s “I Mean You” is some of the happiest playing I’ve heard in a long time. Indeed, the entire collection radiates enjoyment and satisfacton. Fortunately, although the emphasis in Oatts and Perry is on the saxophonists, Danko allots himself plenty of solo time. The Rifftides staff recommends this CD and, while we’re at it, applauds Steeplechase for leaving ten seconds of silence between tracks, time for mental adjustment.

In their seventeen years in the Dave Brubeck Quartet and when they occasionally got together in the decade before Paul Desmond’s death, the pianist and the alto saxophonist loved to play “These Foolish Things.” The song presented lyrical and harmonic possibilities that Brubeck and Desmond never tired of exploring. It was part of their standard fare in quartet concerts, and they included it in their superb but strangely little-noticed Duets album.
A “new” version of “These Foolish Things” more than eight minutes long has surfaced on video. The occasion was a concert in Rome in 1959. Desmond, Brubeck and bassist Eugene Wright all have excellent two-chorus solos. From the look on his face as he wraps up his solo, this was one of those times when Desmond approved of what he had just played. The camera angle during Wright’s solo allows a sustained look at the hand-in-glove relationship between the bassist and drummer Joe Morello. To see and hear the performance, go here. Fans of harmonic surprises may enjoy the modulation from E-flat to E in the coda.