The record changer (Mar-Dec 1947)

THE RECORD * CHANGER RECORD EXCHANGE SECTION BEGINS ON PAGE SIXTEEN JAZZ PARADE AN FRANCISCO REVISITED After the scorching, several hundred mile -ire from Hollywood to San Francisco via akersfield we parked and put on our topja: for a brisk leg stretch down Market treet. The nippy air and fog revived us. leasant associations stirred within us at the ght of Annie Street and the Dawn Gub yd lifted our tired spirits. But the Dawn Iud of the Verba Buena Jazz Band and le good forty cent Scotch highball was osed — shut down. The Dawn Gub, the initution, is now nothing more than a rich enory Annie Street, for all its quaintness, now a short, one-way street that will serve 3 better purpose than to confuse out of •wn motorists. San Francisco Jazz lives on and it is still ore than a provincial craft even though it as moved to the suburbs. It moved intact ithout sacrificing anything of its relation11 j to the city. The move might be considred insurance against the kind of urbanity >at New York Jazz is drowning in. The ay area, which includes San Francisco, akland. Berkeley. El Cerrito and a few 'her names, make up a whole which is osely referred to as "San Francisco" by xi -natives. The fact that the places are •.erely minutes apart (by auto) and the fact s bard to tell where one locality leaves I and the other begins justify the loosens of expression. Using the phrase "San rancisco" in this sense one can say with me accuracy that San Francisco has a "istling Jazz Gimate. That climate is combed, among others, of Bertha Consoulin, 'aul Lingle, Ellis Home, Lu Walters' erba Buena Jazz Band, and the schizoid risco Jazz Band (yes, there are two now). :ne is composed of Pat Patton, string bass ; ill Bardin. trombone; Slim Evans, clarinet; j cornet ; Ray Jahnigan, piano, and George .lark, drums. The other Frisco Jazz Band has among i personnel Jack Buck, trombone; Jack rook, clarinet, and Gordon Edwards, ions. We made several inquiries as to here the Frisco Jazz Band could be found, he answer given each time was "Russian iver, a nearby resort," but no one could II js which Frisco Jazz Band. ;Ve paid Vivian Boarman a visit at her Wrba Buena Record Shop in Oakland. We "rived there just in time to join a party no were squeezing into Turk Murphy's ell preserved Airflow Chrysler for a dash •er to Oakland's Rey Theatre at Tenth id Broadway to see a reissued Photophone m short "St Louis Blues" starring Bessie :h and we joined them. W. C. Handy rendy had a big finger in this old pie. re was an embellished Negro dance tad, a many voiced, partially invisible loral group and an obtrusive narrative fhich did everything possible to keep Bessie Smith from singing "St. Louis Blues." But in spots Bessie sang beautifully — at moments her voice seemed amazingly well recorded in spite of the old Photophone Recording. The unflattering short dress of filmy material which was tight around the hips and baggy around the shoulders and chest — this and the ridiculous litde brimless helmet of a hat gave Bessie a grim physical aspect. Her speaking voice was thick and warm with a musical richness. This voice hardly redeemed the lines she spoke in the picture to a cruel lover who was only interested in her as a means of financial support. It hurt us to see that tap dancing scoundrel striking our beloved Bessie to the floor, kicking her in the most villainous, sadistic way, and when she was down, taking her money. On the other hand, we were a little taken aback with Bessie when she let the rat mistreat her that way and continued to suffer and emote in the most dramatic fashion, all the while calling the jerk sweet names and begging : "Honey, don't leave yo' Bessie." On the way from the theatre to El Cerrito Turk explained that not only was the Lu Watters Band still intact (Lu Watters, Bob Scoby and Turk Murphy, brass ; Bob Helm, clarinet; Dick Lammy. Wally Rose, Harry Mordecai and Bill Dart, rhythm) but full of renewed enthusiasm and that all were taking a special, personal interest in making "Hambone Keller's" surpass the old "Dawn Gub." He told us about the special three level band stand he designed and built with his own tailgate hands and about the trouble encountered trying to obliterate the decor of the last tenant of the building, Sally Rand. The walls, it Contents: Guitar and Vocal By Bud Scott 5 Records Noted By Jim Higgins 8 A Quick Look at If. S. Jazz By Peter Tanner 9 Elder Beck's Temple By William Russell 10 I Never Was a Jazz Expert By William Genes II Farrago By Edward Hill 42 Record Exchange Section: Advertisers' Addresses |6 Records for Disposition 2 I Records Wanted 25 Collectors' Display Ads 27 seems, had murals of rosy nudes executed in phosphorescent paint. "We put several coats of paint on the walls and the girls seemed to be covered but at night they would shine through ! This delayed our opening a week or so." Hambone Kelle\ 's turned out to be a very specious club with a luxuriously carpeted lobby which led to a long front bar that faced a deceptively large dance floor. A sea of candle-lit tables surrounded it We were shown the curtained stage behind the band stand by Turk who took us back. Here was enough space and theatrical equipment to accommodate a Broadway show. We were next shown into the "back room" which was an extravagantly large lounge complete writh booths, tables and divans. At one end of this fancy hall was a very long and elegant bar — at the other a mammoth fireplace with flaming logs. Our guide informed us that Wally Rose entertained with Piano Rags in this room on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. The kitchen, w-hich we visited next, was as overwhelming in size and excellence as the other rooms. The impressive menu offered even-thing from hand selected steaks to red beans and rice and gumbos at ridiculously low prices. During the kitchen tour Chef Eugene Serviere had us sample every dish; we had a second taste of his Scollopini and his Lapin au Vin Blanc. "Thees kweeieen mos be equal een qualyeetee to Monsieur Wateur's Neu Orleon Ghazz," said Eugene, punctuating his words with a waving ladle. We wTere now ushered outside to inspect the grounds by Turk who pointed proudly to this feature and that, illustrating each with statistics like — "Three hundred and fifty car capacity parking lot." Our conversation was interrupted by zoo-like sounds which seemed to come from the sky. Turk quickly explained that this was Lammy practicing Arpeggios on his tuba. "He goes up there to be alone," said Turk, pointing to the roof. Looking up we saw him rocked back in a chair against a big sign that said "Free Parking — No Cover — No Minimum" with the big horn wrapped around his neck, puffing away obliviously. Turk coaxed him down as it was time for the band to start. Now we stood at £he side of the band stand where the Watters' Band was assembled and ready for the first number. On the highest level stood the brawny Lu Watters. Turk and Bob Scobey looking like GrecoRoman wrestlers, poised with their instruments in playing position waiting for the stomp off — when Turk turned his head away from his mouthpiece to whisper to us "Watch those people at the nearest table jump when we hit the first note." The first note was such an ear-splitting surprise to us that w-e were too startled and busy jumping ourselves to notice the people at the table. JiPTEMBER, 1947 3