The record changer (Feb-Dec 1943)

The Record Changer The only record exchange in the world GcrtoriGulllclscri, editor ,pii>UshBr; Dan W13san, 'circulation mraeer: Dan Anderson, staff artist. Published every mWh at EUHPSX, VTFDINIA, and copyright 1913 by Gordon Gulliclsan. One dollar, U.S. raiey (twelve issuas) a year . REAL AND FAKE In the days which I now seem so remote, before Pearl Harbor | and before gas-rationing,my brother, I Ahmet, and I drove one summer all over the United States, (with the main pur[pose of learning more I about this country, Ibut also with the I strong desire to hear good jazz wherever that was possible. It was a wonderful trip, and we heard quite a lot of jazz, both good and bad. For instance, in San Francisco, we heard the Lu Watters band at the Dawn Club, which was an experience I shall never forget . The veteran New Orleans trombonist Santo Pecora was playing in Will Osborne's band in a swanky hotel across the street and dropped in for a few minutes between sets; his comments were quite as enthusiastic as ours. Only those who were lucky enough to hear the Terba Buena Band in person can fully realize the greatness of that orchestra. For four hours we heard music of such high quality that at the end we were in a state of ecstasy. "Only the real jazz tunes were played, with however one mysterious exception: the band attempted a rendition of a popular "Ellington composition (I think it was Flamingo), and performed with such lack of interest and conviction that everyone present pretended not to hear what was being played or went to the bar for a drink. This was the only concession to commercialism throughout the whole evening. All the rest of the music was exciting and inspiring, and such an austere critic as Bill Colburn assured us we were not hearing the band in exceptional form: they played like that every week. Tunes that I had never hoped to hear from living musicians, and which unfortunately are unknown to the great majority of present day musicians, were beautifully performed. After tne dance was over several of us proceeded to Lu's house, where Lu played us Oliver and Morton records until the early hours of the morning, "filch, when you think of it, was obviously the only way to climax a memorable evening. In Hollywood we were fortunate to hear Meade Lux Lewis again. It was a great surprise to find Lux in Hollywood,—he had clayed for us in Washington just a few weeks before. Lux immediately liked the West Const, and his good mood, his wild snort-shirts and his passion for fishing all clearly indicated he was going to be there for a long time. One afternoon in Elliott Paul's house he played better than I have ever heard him. Paul had a Hammond organ, and an old upright with mandolin attachment which had the most beautiful tone you can Imagine. Lux was just having a good time fooling around with both instruments. He had never played on a Hammond before, but you would have thought from the way he sounded that he had invented that curious instrument. Within a few minutes he knew all there was to know about it, and was using all itsweird devices with great subtlety. ' Jt was, however on the upright that he played us some real music. T£e percussive tonality of the mandolin attachment gave unusual emphasis to his fast pieces; his"Honky Tonk Train"that afternoon was tremendous. Dave Stuart asked him whether he could remember the first tune he learned in Chicago when he started playing piano. Lux thought for a while, then said he did remember the tune, but could not recall its title. And then he played it, and it was "The Pearls", almost note by note! Since, Lux has included "The Pearls" in his repertoire. From the jazz viewpoint, our next important stop was in Houston, Texas. At long last we were going to hear the fabulous Peck Kelley. We arrived in Houston in the evening and immediately inquired about the whereabouts of the legendary piano man. While my brother and I were discussing the means of finding out where Mr. Kelley was playing, the owner of the tourist cabins where we had stopped, overheard us. So he asked: "Did you say Peck Kelley?" "Yes, do you know where he's playing?" "Sure. Everyone knows Peck Kelley around here. He's at the Pice Hotel." He gave us the proper directions for the Rice Hotel, and in our naivete we thought it was a dive of the worst orde'r. After all, who hadn't heard the famous boogie-woogie classic which begins with: "Down in a little honky-tonk in Tessa There's a guy who plays the best piano by far." So we proceeded to the Rice Hotel. Imagine our surprise wnen we were received by a laquais, looking very grave In an eighteenth-century costume. I have never seen a more extravagantly luxurious hotel than the Rice in Houston, Texas, which was the last place where I expected to find such stunning grandeur. We found ourselves surrounded by a few black ties and lots of 2