Normally, I pay little attention to my smart phone, but today it alerted me to several social media messages pointing out that I had not posted about Paul Desmond on his 92nd birthday. Believe me, it was on my to-do list, but the list was hijacked by a succession of duties, all necessary, important and too boring to describe. I compensated as I went about my business by repeatedly whistling “Take Five.” Fortunately for me, if not for Desmond fans in earlier time zones, where I live it is still Paul’s birthday.

The photograph above is one of my favorites from a rehearsal of the all-star band for Duke Ellington’s 70th birthday celebration at the White House in 1969. We see Hank Jones at the piano, much of Milt Hinton on bass, Gerry Mulligan and his baritone saxophone and Desmond with his alto sax. Jones was the designated pianist for the all-stars, but Billy Taylor, Earl Hines and Brubeck sat in on one tune apiece. Brubeck’s guest shot was on an Ellington composition that he and Desmond often opened with during the nearly twenty years of the Brubeck Quartet. I was sitting directly behind Ellington at the concert that night. From my notes for the Blue Note album of the event:

When Desmond did a perfect Johnny Hodges impression during “Things Ain’t What They Used To Be,” Ellington sat bolt upright and looked astonished, a reaction that pleased Desmond when I described it.

Monday’s remembrance of pianist Hod O’Brien, who died over the weekend, included this:

O’Brien was married to singer Stephanie Nakasian, with whom he frequently collaborated. Their daughter, also a vocalist, performs under the name Veronica Swift.

Ms. Swift (pictured) inherited her parents’ musicality, including her mother’s vocal skill. In a video made last year at Heidi’s Jazz Club in Cocoa Beach, Florida, she sings a classic standard song by Eddie DeLange and Jimmy Van Heusen. Her accompanist and the piano soloist is Ron Teixeira, leader of the house band at Heidi’s.

Phil Norman Tentet, Then & Now (MAMA Records)

This album’s tune list could create an expectation that we’re in for just another trip down the memory lane of modern jazz classics. No, Norman’s ensemble combines gifted players and arrangers with fresh approaches to familiar music.

Geoff Stradling adds a bridge section in his arrangement of “Johnny’s Theme,” the Tonight Show’s introductory and closing music. This may be more of a show business classic than a jazz classic, but he expands the piece’s musical content and, therefore, its possibilities for improvisation. In their solos, trumpeter Ron Stout, alto saxophonist Rusty Higgins and guitarist Larry Koonse take advantage of the meaty harmonies, with Stout’s fluidity increasing as he moves through the changes. Stradling inserts a mildly disruptive “shave and a haircut six bits” fillip near the end, possibly in tribute to Johnny Carson’s humor—or Tonight Show bandleader Doc Severinsen’s.

From “Take Five” to “Poinciana” to “Line For Lyons” through a dozen classic compositions, the arrangers evoke the original recordings while personalizing them with new instrumental textures and, in some cases, rhythmic departures. There’s no doubt that in “Lullaby of Birdland” it’s the George Shearing Quintet you’re hearing in the first chorus. Then, arranger Scott Whitfield expands the ensemble to set up solos by pianist Christian Jacob, Higgins on alto, Whitfield on trombone, guitarist Koonse, and Brad Dutz on vibes. Whitfield closes with what he calls “George’s original ‘shout chorus’” and tags the piece with his own shout chorus that incorporates the contrast of a three-chord piano tag, summoning thoughts of Count Basie.

In “Concorde,” Joey Sellers arranges one of John Lewis’s most evocative Modern Jazz Quartet compositions. His use of the inner harmonic tensions of the piece inspires splendid solos from Jacob, Dutz, bassist Kevin Axt, Stout, Higgins on flute and Roger Neumann on bass clarinet. The bass clarinet gives the ensemble color, fiber and intriguing movement in the lines Sellers wrote for Neumann.

Neumann arranged “Line For Lyons,” a staple of Gerry Mulligan’s early 1950s quartet with trumpeter Chet Baker. He harmonized Mulligan’s and Baker’s original solos with additional horns before providing space for new solos by Neumann on baritone sax and Stout on trumpet. It is one of the most affecting tracks on the album.

Stout and his frequent trumpet colleague Carl Saunders have exemplary solos on Dizzy Gillespie’s “Manteca” and team up for a closing statement that would have earned smiles from Gillespie if he had heard it. Saunders is fleet, lyrical and rangy in his solo on “Poinciana,” arranged by Jacob to reflect but not imitate the famous Ahmad Jamal version. Higgins and Koonse also solo.

There is a wide variety of textures in Jacob’s arrangement of Paul Desmond’s “Take Five,” with Rusty Higgins including in his first solo an approximation of one of Desmond’s trips into the stratosphere of the alto saxophone and in his second an inkling of Desmond’s humor. Jacob begins and ends the arrangement with echoes of the Dave Brubeck Quartet’s celebrated recording of the piece.

The other pieces are Whitfield’s arrangement of Benny Golson’s “Killer Joe;” Kim Richmond’s chart on Miles Davis’s “So What; Francisco Torres’ on “Chano Pozo’s and Dizzy Gillespie’s “Soul Sauce” (made famous by Cal Tjader); and Jacob’s of Vince Guaraldi’s “Linus & Lucy.”

The Phil Norman Tentet is in fact an eleventet, if there is such a word. Norman plays tenor saxophone and clarinet. His only solo here is on tenor sax in Henry Mancini’s theme from The Pink Panther,” which has the baritone sax of the arranger, Neumann, in interplay (emphasis on “play”) with Norman. It’s great fun.

Personnel: Phil Norman, tenor sax, clarinet, leader; Carl Saunders, Ron Stout, trumpet; Scott Whitfield, trombone; Rusty Higgins, alto and soprano sax, flute; Roger Neumann, baritone sax, bass clarinet, flute; Christian Jacob, piano; Larry Koonse, guitar; Kevin Axt, bass; Dick Weller, drums; Brad Dutz, percussion, vibes.

A note for those who like information about what they’re hearing. The program booklet for this album goes against the record industry trend toward vacuousness. It includes biographies of the composers, bios and photos of the musicians, and notes by the arrangers about how and why they wrote their charts. It also has solo credits for the twelve tracks. Hooray for MAMA.

Thanks to Seattle bassist Bren Plummer for calling our attention to a short video of trumpeter Jon Faddis getting acquainted with Bix Beiderbecke’s horn. Beiderbecke (1903-1931) was second only to his friend Louis Armstrong as an influence on the development of jazz trumpet style in the 1920s and 1930s. Three years ago, Faddis was a guest artist of Quad City Arts in Rock Island, Illinois. The staff removed Bix’s horn from a display and handed it to Faddis.

Let’s listen to Beiderbecke on cornet in “I’m Coming Virginia” from 1927. Following his glorious solo, Bix’s tag ending is one of the most quoted phrases in jazz.

Give the sidemen some. They were Bill Rank, trombone; Don Murray, tenor saxophone and arranger; Frankie Trumbauer, C-melody saxophone; Irving “Itzy” Riskin, piano; Howdy Quicksell, banjo; Chauncey Morehouse, drums. The performance is included in this album.

Mose Allison has died at the age of 89. A Mississippi pianist, singer, composer, songwriter and sometime trumpeter, Allison made his New York debut in the 1950s as a bebop pianist. He worked with Al Cohn, Zoot Sims, Gerry Mulligan and a variety of other post-bop musicians, but came to fame employing his Mississippi folksiness and command of the blues idiom. He led trios in that genre for most of his career. His work had a powerful effect on such emerging British R&B and rock performers as John Mayall and Georgie Fame, but Allison avoided rock and its offshoots. He attracted an audience devoted to his blues feeling and the wryness and irony of his lyrics. “Your Mind Is On Vacation” was one of his great successes. Here, he sings it in a 1975 PBS television broadcast, with bassist Jack Hannah and drummer Jerry Granelli. Sorry about a few unavoidable audio dropouts; they are part of the YouTube package.

Pianist, composer and bandleader Chick Corea (born June 12, 1941) continues the long celebration of his 75th birthday, currently at his frequent New York headquarters the Blue Note.  Corea’s career has brought him together with virtually every major figure in modern jazz. We congratulate him and wish him many more years of the creativity, daring and joyous expression that have made his work an inspiration for musicians and a source of deep satisfaction for listeners. Let’s listen to “Matrix” from his 1968 album Now He Sings, Now He Sobs, with bassist Miroslav Vitrous and drummer Roy Haynes.

Vibraphonist, arranger, bandleader and master transcriber Charlie Shoemake lives on the
California coast halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco. As a performer who also teaches, he is known in the jazz community for the accuracy and detail of the solos that he transcribes. He trains his students to transcribe recorded solos  as a means of ear training and harmonic development. Those who have studied with him include saxophonist Ted Nash, trombonist Andy Martin and pianist-bandleader Cecilia Coleman. He sent the following message yesterday on Billy May’s birthday:

We’re having an Indian Summer here in Cambria and since today is the birthdate of the great Billy May, I thought I would share this with you. I recently purchased a book called Sessions With Sinatra by Charles L. Granata. The author stated that though the 1967 recording that Sinatra made with the Duke Ellington band had a few problems (due to the bands laissez faire attitude toward intonation, reading and rehearsing). He also emphasized that it produced one true classic. It was Billy May’s fantastic arrangement of “Indian Summer,” complete with stunning performances by Sinatra and Johnny Hodges. Don’t know if you have the recording but here it is. I even transcribed Billy’s intro as it really knocked me out. The harmonies he came up with are from another planet.

Today is the 241st birthday of the United States Marine Corps. Hard-core Marines (is there another kind?) might consider it heresy to create a jazz version of the Marine Corps Hymn. They would be wrong. A few years ago during a six-hour bus ride to a performance by the Marine Corps All-Star Jazz Band, Staff Sergeant Ken Ebo, the lead trombonist, wrote an arrangement of the  Marine Corps hymn. The band is made up of the 18 best Marine jazz musicians. When they arrived to rehearse for their concert in Marquette, Michigan, they sight-read Sgt. Ebo’s brand new chart.

I hope that someday we can hear the extended version. The band’s tours are designed to increase awareness of the Marine Corps. They probably don’t need to tour Afghanistan.

For a memory of a special Marine friend, go to this Rifftides archive post.

Tomorrow is Veterans Day in the US. Best wishes and gratitude to all members of the military, past and present, who have kept the United State of America safe.

After jazz emerged—or coalesced—as a distinct form of music in New Orleans in the early twentieth century, it quickly took hold throughout the world. Jazz musicians developed on every continent, even in countries where the spirit of jazz goes against the grain of politics and culture; a jazz community is emerging in China, not an eventuality that Mao Tse Tung is likely to have envisioned.

But for all the music’s wide acceptance abroad, the United States was where jazz flourished. During a decade or more in the 1930s and ‘40s swing and big bands constituted the foundation of American popular music. Several generations still cherish it as a cultural touchstone. Bebop came, stayed, subdivided and left several influential offshoots. In the l950s and ‘60s, rock enveloped popular music and still dominates it. Jazz remains artistically vital, even though in terms of popular acceptance it is tied, more or less, with chamber music.

Four recent books give valuable insights into the development of jazz in widespread regions of the country.

Gary Chen, They Call Me Stein On Vine (Independent)

Gary Chen moved to the United States from his native Taiwan, attended the Berklee School of Music, and met Maury Stein, the owner of the music store Stein On Vine. Stein’s was, and is, a magnet for musicians in Los Angeles. Based on an interview that consisted of nine words between them, Stein hired Chen to work in the store. That was evidently in the early 1970s; the book is hazy on chronology. The first day on the job Chen met Freddie Hubbard, Ray Brown and Lou Levy and was hooked. When Stein died in 1987, Chen took over the store. The book is his life story, casually written in the first person and laced with anecdotes about the eccentric Stein and about the dozens of musicians for whom Stein’s was a virtual headquarters. A few of his stories are good-natured exercises in convolution, but some of the quotes from musicians are priceless.

“You should listen to Stravinsky more,” Wayne Shorter told a young saxophonist visiting from Europe. She played for Shorter and wanted advice.

Arranger Nelson Riddle: “I stole everything from Mozart and Debussy.”

Horace Silver on playing with Stan Getz before Silver left Connecticut: “He would play every tune in all 12 keys. Every chorus he would raise a half step until we came back to the original key. Man, I can’t tell you what a challenge that was for a piano player. But I got my shit together.”

Lou Levy on fellow pianist Cedar Walton: “I can outswing a lot of people, but guys like Cedar, they just got it.”

Gerry Mulligan, upon receiving a compliment from Chen: “Gary, you are a fine gentleman with great taste.”

Chen’s book is an easy, relaxed read that evokes the L.A. jazz milieu during a vital time.

Benjamin Franklin V, An Encyclopedia Of South Carolina Jazz & Blues Musicians (U. of South Carolina Press)

Franklin, an English professor at the University of South Carolina, compiles an encyclopedia with biographies of famous and obscure South Carolina musicians. Leading the parade of the famous is Dizzy Gillespie, followed by Bubber Miley, Eartha Kitt, Lucky Thompson, James Blood Ulmer, Jabbo Smith; bandleader Buddy Johnson and his sister Ella. Franklin’s thorough research also led him to the bassist, singer and composer Jim Ferguson; avant-garde saxophonist Robin Kenyatta; singers Etta Jones and Bertha “Chippie” Hill; Taft Jordan, who played trumpet with Chick Webb and Duke Ellington; and trombonist Fred Wesley, longtime music director for James Brown.

Illuminating an aspect of South Carolina jazz history little known outside the state, several of Franklin’s entries concern boys who were wards of the orphanage founded by Lena and Daniel Jenkins in 1891. Bands of the orphanage gained national recognition in the early 1900s, playing in the inaugural parades of presidents Theodore Roosevelt and William Taft and performing in several European cities. Among alumni of the Jenkins orphanage were trumpeters Cat Anderson and Jabbo Smith. The institution’s impact on music in Charleston parallels that of the New Orleans Colored Waifs Home, where Louis Armstrong learned to play the cornet.

Franklin is meticulous in his research, leaving no stone unturned when it comes to places and dates. This biographical heading is about clarinetist Jimmy Hamilton’s place and date of birth: Possibly 25 May 1917, though possibly ca. 1911 (Dillon, S.C.) S.C. residence: Dillon (probably 1917, but possibly ca. 1911 – possibly ca. 1922 when an encylopedist is that thorough with details of the small stuff, we can trust the accuracy of his major information.

You will find an interview with Professor Franklin here.

Lyn Darroch, Rhythm In The Rain (Ooligan Press)

Full Disclosure: I wrote a blurb for Lynn Darroch’s book. This is it.

Lynn Darroch illuminates the rich history of jazz in the Pacific Northwest from the
early twentieth century to the present. Interweaving factors of culture, economics, politics, landscape and weather, he helps us to understand how the Northwest grew so many fine jazz artists and why the region continues to attract musicians from New Orleans, New York, California, Europe and South America. He concentrates on the traditions of the big port cities, Seattle and Portland, and underlines the importance of musicians from places like Wenatchee, Spokane, Eugene and Bend. Darroch has the curiosity of a journalist, the investigative skills of a historian and the language of a poet. His writing about music makes you want to hear it.

The book covers Quincy Jones, Leroy Vinnegar, Bud Shank, Don Lanphere, Thara Memory, John Stowell and dozens of musicians you may not have known about. Darroch makes you want to head for your CD shelves or YouTube. A choice collection of black and white photographs illustrates the book.

John McKee And Mike Metheny, Old Friends Are The Best Friends (Independent)

Mike Metheny is a trumpet player. Pianist John McKee  (1945-1989) ran a lumber business. They grew up together in Lees Summit, Missouri. Their book consists of letters, McKee writing from Lees Summit, Metheny from Boston when he was forging his career in music and from lots of places after it was underway. The foreword is by Mike Metheny’s guitarist brother Pat. The book is not primarily about jazz, although music inevitably is an important aspect of it. Metheny writes to McKee about witnessing the singer Eddie Fisher trying to bolster the ego that is sagging along with his career. The friends have a sometimes lighthearted, sometimes earnest, exchange of letters. They write to one another about the conditions of Christianity, the Republic, about literature, about the television evangelists Jim and Tammy Fae Bakker and sometimes, about music.

Metheny on a jazz club:

Fat Tuesdays is exactly as The New Yorker describes it: a dark and soulful New York jazz room that is so intimate, we trumpet players must be careful not to empty our spit valves onto a customer’s knees. Surprisingly, the crowds were polite and encouraging and the whole experience would have to be considered positive.

McKee on a movie, Martin Scorcese’s The Last Temptation of Christ:

The way I see it, Scorcese has been making this personal-hell, cleansing-fire, final-redemption flick for at least 15 years. The Last Temptation… is merely an unconscious rehash of themes he has been pursuing (or have they been pursuing him?) for years. Scorcese’s Jesus no more resembles the Christ of the historical gospels than Harvey Keitel looks like Judas. (I’ve seen Judas’s high school picture, and you can tell the guy’s a jerk because he’s got that duck tail and he’s givin’ everybody the finger.

It’s not a jazz book. It’s a life book, suitable either for browsing or a long, steady read.

Fred Hersch Trio, Floating (Palmetto)

I’m not sure how this 2014 CD ended up in the holding pen for so long, but I am delighted that it finally called to me from the stacks. With his celebrated keyboard touch and control, the pianist floats even through the trio’s zestful 12/8 approach to “You & The Night & The Music.” In the title tune the twinkle of Hersch’s single high notes contrasts with the relaxed feel as drummer Eric McPherson’s brushes agreeably offset the time. Hersch, McPherson and bassist John Hébert had just finished a run at the Village Vanguard when they went into the studio for this recording. They have, if anything, an even tighter collective aspect than in their 2012 Alive At The Village Vanguard. Hersch’s seven new compositions balance nicely with originals by Dietz & Schwartz and Lerner and Lowe, and with Thelonious Monk’s “Let’s Cool One.”

Autumn 2016 in the inland Pacific Northwest is one rainstorm after another amid the glory of leaves turning color and painting the landscape. Here we see maple leaves outside Rifftides world headquarters.

Among songs that sing the praises of the fall season, Henry Nemo’s “’Tis Autumn” was a sizeable success for Woody Herman in 1941. Other notable performances of the song are on recordings by Nat Cole, Sarah Vaughan, Bob Dorough, Carmen McRae, Chet Baker with Bill Evans and Ella Fizgerald with Joe Pass.

In 1985, on a visit to Sweden, Zoot Sims played “’Tis Autumn” in an informal session with bassist Red Mitchell and guitarist Rune Gustafsson. It reminds us that Zoot played beautifully virtually to the end of his life. He died in March of 1985.