The record changer (Mar-Dec 1947)

JAZZ PARADE (Continued from Page 3) the few participants who had the physical endurance to last to the end know where it eventually ended. King Zulu, who traditionally stops at each reviewing stand to drink a glass of champagne, this year was a bourbon drinker. When we saw him at noon, attendants were helping His Majesty out of the long, black limousine, where he had been roasting under the mid-day sun, and on to a float where he was to be fanned and aired so the parade could proceed with its King in a conscious state. The music, contrary to what you might have heard from historians, is still there. For example, in the Zulu Parade there were two brass bands full of Albert System clarinets and tailgate trombones playing High Society and March Blues. In the Rex Parade there were smaller bands on floats and trucks, with such musicians as Paul Barbarin, George Lewis and Wooden Joe Nicholas. All of these men and others like Irving Fazola, Sharkey Bonano, the Brunis Brothers, Jim Robinson, Don Ewell, and Bunk Johnson were playing in and around New Orleans. We were told that Bunk was in the Water Carnival (Canal Parade) over in Gretna. When we tried to contact Paul Barbarin we were informed by his wife that he was playing out in the bayou on week nights. Mardi Gras Day as we walked up the Rue de Chartres, toward a crowd gathered by the gate outside Jackson Square, we heard a pulsing, percussive sound. We hurried over expecting another parade. Elbowing our way aggressively through the curious crowd we found not a parade but a real spasm band ! In a semi-circle along the tall iron fence of the park were seven ragged Negro musicians, all middle-aged or past, playing with the energy and enthusiasm of young boys. There were two fiddles, a guitar, a bone rattler, an elaborate washboard (with tin can bells, cow bells and a Sealbeam headlight shell), and a "string bass" made of a number five washboard lying face down on the pavement. Out of the center of the upturned bottom was stretched a rope which connected to a broom stick fulcrum. As the stick was moved back and forth, the rope tightened and slackened, varying the pitch of the plucked notes which were amplified by the tub's bottom. The seventh man used his voice and shuffling feet as an instrument. We stood listening and watching for perhaps an hour. The fiddles were played loose bow and from the chest just below the shoulder rather than under the chin. The strings were fingered not from the finger tips, but with the crease of the first and second finger joint. This was real alley fiddle the leader later told us. Their music was as exciting as the best jazz we've ever heard in person or on records. It had a strange quality we had never heard before or since. The rhythm was ragtime with a country dance or reel flavor — and still it was a jazz band. Their repertoire seemed endless with a rather broad scope — that is, it contained Negro folk songs, traditional jazz numbers, as well as more sophisticated tunes. In fact, they played everything the crowd requested, in their own style — (the tunes that weren't suitable for their style were altered impromptu harmonically and melodically so that they became suitable) stopping only long enough to receive another request and pick up the coins and bills the audience tossed at their feet. During one of the pauses their manager handed us their business card ofc which was printed "Memphis Strugglers' Swing Band — Anajuac, Louisiana." AUGUST, 1947 MINOR HALL SPEAKS (Continued from Page 5) note before that time — he wasn't exactly a rhythm drummer, but he was a good drummer. I met Darnell Howard when I was with King Oliver in Chicago. Darnell was playing fiddle then and used to come around the bandstand to listen. He would listen to Dodds and I think that's where he picked up clarinet. At that time, we were the biggest thing in Chicago. I forgot to tell you that during the first World War, I was drafted in Chicago, went all the way to the Coast and then they sent us back — the war was over. My brother Tubby was in France for eighteen months. Tubby played a little different than I. He was good with his foot-pedal — he was very fast and was good at playing a show. He and I never taught each other how to play — he had his style and I had mine. He gave me my first set of drums. He bought a new set for himself and gave me the old one. We . played a lot of parades in New Orleans with Ory. We would start at seven in the morning and play until seven at night and get three dollars for it. The biggest kick I got out of playing once was on a wagon. AVe (Ory's Band) ran into Joe Oliver on another wagon and locked wheels. So he jumped on Shimmy-SheWabble and was playing loud — Ory played very soft and ran him off the street. Ory was King of the Street — when guys heard Ory on the street, they would move over and get out of his way. Ory's style was the best they had down in New Orleans. His tunes were all swingy — he had that low soft, swing style and people liked it better than a loud style. I couldn't say so much about New Orleans musicians, because I didn't stay there long, but the ones I liked most were Manuel Perez, Papa Celestin, Tio, and Joe Oliver. Henry Martin was my favorite drummer in New Orleans, but after I got to Chicago I liked Jimmy Bertrand. When I first played, one of the greatest was Henry Zeno — he was great. He had a good lick he did on his bass drum with a cymbal (at that time they used cymbals on the side of the drum) — he made good licks with the cymbal on his drum. But, Henry Martin was the best rhythm drummer 1 ever heard and he influenced me more than anyone else. Ory gave me my nickname. At first, he used to call me "Rarin'-to-go," because I was always rushing about ; later it was changed to "Ram" for short. I don't like bebop — you never know what they're playing. It's all right for people who like it, but for myself, I don't like it. I think when people know what you're playing, they like it better. Ory's present band is better than those he had in New Orleans. We shade our music more. Ory himself is playing just as good as in New Orleans, or better. I like his leadership, he gives everybody a chance and doesn't hold back on anybody. I love to play — I get just as much kick out of seeing the looks on people's faces as when I play. Many a time, I have hated to see the end of an evening come, because I get such a kick out of playing and watching people listening and dancing. I liked Ory's last date in San Francisco, But it would have been 1009r better if we had gotten the proper advertising — a lot of peop'e didn't even know we were in San Francisco. My favorite jazz musicians? I like Darnell Howard, Kid Ory, Papa Mutt and Bud. Louis is tops — Louis and I practically started playing at the same time. Louis is really my favorite trumpet player and I think he is still as great as ever. I just made two records with him for Victor (one from the picture "New Orleans"). Anything Tubby had, I could get, and I used to do the same with him — we got along swell together. He wasn't a hard drinking man. His biggest trouble was eating— he loved to eat — he loved a lot of highly seasoned food. Aside from Ory, I couldn't say much about other bands, because I don't pay much attention to that — most of the time I'm thinking about the band I'm playing in. I like Lu Watters — he reminds me of those ten piece brass bands in New Orleans. Jimmy Noone was tops. Every time I worked with him, I thought he was the greatest fellow in the world. I like Noone better than Tio. That's why I give Darnell a lot of credit — he listened to Noone and plays closer to him than anybody I've ever heard. The first time I ever had a band of my own, it was in Red Bluff, California, with a three-piece band. It was about ten years ago ; I was with a show and got stranded there and had to make enough money to get back home. After I got up there, I liked it. There was fishing and hunting and I liked it so much I stayed there a year. I loved to hunt quail, rabbits, ducks and there was a trout stream, too. I got one once that weighed 35 pounds — that's what kept me up there. • My favorite drummer in the big bands today is Joe Jones with Count Basie's band. I like Gene Krupa in the style he plays. But my favorite is Joe Jones — he's a . good rhythm man. I use mostly a steady press roll. The way I learned was press — drag . '. . a long drag. I give Baby Dodds credit — he's a good drummer, but he changed his style a little — he doesn't play like he used to in New Orleans. What he plays is all right — swell — but he plays too much drum for a small combo — it's all right in a big band. I listened to the "This is Jazz" programs — they're good programs, but I think the rhythm should let the horns stand out. From the programs that I've. heard, it sounded like an every-tub band — everybody for himself. I wish we could get the same opportunity — I think we can show them what real New Orleans music is. ERTEGUN (Continued from Page 4) from now on all correspondence should be addressed to the editor. Also, if you have an interesting story, send it in, whether you are a well known writer or have never published a line in any magazine. Finally, we believe that our most important task is to use whatever influence we may have to destroy all obstacles that prevent the widespread hearing of good jazz. America is full of wonderful musicians who are either not playing often enough or not playing at all ; record company files are full of masters* deserving of reissue. We will do our best to put these musicians before the audiences their talent merits, to influence the companies to record and to reissue good jazz. RECORD CHANGER readers have never had a better opportunity to support jazz and to extend its appeal. In future issues we will go into this in detail, and we intend also to expose the seamier side of the picture. 13