The record changer (Jan-Dec 1954)

22 aaron Harris (Continued from Page 11) as anything that exists, or that the "modernists" imagine exists, in traditional jazz. Science can supply objective criteria for wrong and right, and for the more effective ways of doing certain things. No such condition exists in art or music. Certain writers have gone overboard in reinforcing a mystical creative power that they believe exists in jazz players. The jazz players have in turn acquired the illusion that their deviations in taste and judgment, and even their outright errors, are creative acts. There is also a metaphysical quality called "swinging" upon which Sutton and others place a great deal of the burden of rationalizing their endeavors. "Swinging" refers to more than what the better defined "Swing" bands do. According to current usage, "swinging" is simply what a music that one likes does. In short, it has no objective meaning beyond the speaker's personal opinion. We think that King Oliver's Creole Jazz Band Swings. Sutton does not. We, However, also think that Sutton's band swings. . . . Ole Aaron is now back, and ready to recount a curious incident, a propos of (R.L.T.)'s comments. We were listening to Chet Baker's recording of Little Old Lady (Pacific Jazz LP-9) and agreed that it meant little to us if we took it as serious and important music. When we decided to take an attitude of listening to it as a parody of a popular tune, it became delightful, meaningful, and a valued item in the record collection. Maybe too many musicians take themselves too seriously. We were appalled by the Mahalia Jackson program on WCBS, Sunday nights at 10 p. m. She became a pawn in the hands of a smooth-talking announcer and some frilly, commercial, supporting singers. Apparently someone thinks he can make a kind of Jo Stafford out of her. We hope that she stops cooperating or that CBS gets wised-up. It is nothing short of a crime that such a great artist is given such trite material and ridiculous support. We were almost as appalled at the You Are There TV program on the beginnings of jazz. The ODJB sequence was reasonably good but the rest was filled with anachronisms and such ugly events as the appearance of drummer Barrett Deems in blackface, allegedly a part of the King Oliver band in New Orleans. Something is grossly lacking in technical advice and we can no longer excuse it on any grounds. Turk Murphy's New York debut at Child's Paramount has been a howling success and the most refreshing thing to hit the local musical scene since Reisenweber's day. Numerous conversions have been made and we hear from unreliable sources that Columbia's Murphy LP's are outselling Liberace. The rest of the N. Y. scene is more routine with the usual Stuyvesant Casino and Central Plaza weekend sessions, Wilber De Paris with Slick Jones replacing Zutty Singleton at Ryan's, Phil Napoleon at Nick's, Eddy Condon at Eddy Condon's, and everybody under the sun at the Metropole. Thursday through Saturday sessions continue at the Riviera (opposite Nick's). Among the more-or-less regulars are clarinetists Tony Parenti and Jack Sohmer, and a nromisine vounef trumpeter, Mike Stein. Frank Gillis (piano), and Al Bandini (trumpet) are always on hand. We hear that each of the members of the ODJB, or their estates, obtained royalties to the tune of $1800 since the Les Paul recording of Tiger Rag. The Dixieland Rhythm Kings are playing down New Orleans way. Ex-Castle Jazz Bander Monte Ballou is said to be joining Doc Evans as banjoist. Carl Halen's Gin Bottle Seven banjoist — Jan Carroll — turned down an offer to travel with the Turk Murphy band. Several readers volunteered additional personnel for the Aaron Harris "name" band. Trombonist Elmer Crumbly was our favorite with bassist Rowland Bundock. a close second. Thanks to Paul Sheatsley (not a bad name either) for these. While picking among his record heaps, Uncle Aaron was most happy to rediscover the Fletcher Henderson record of How Come You Do Me Like You Do. Some great Louis Armstrong is to be heard here. We find it interesting to note similarities between Armstrong's early Sol or Gully Low Blues and his latter tune. Brother Bill. There is also a close kinship between Clarence Williams recording of Let Every Day Be Sweetheart's Day on Vocation and the chorus of Sobbin' Blues. benny frenchie (Continued from Page 11) produced a really hilarious Melancholy Baby? Benny's "wouldn't you like to have been there when" department: The afternoon in Paris when Charlie Parker and Sidney Bechet had their cutting contest and The Bird was gassed by Bechei's High Society choruses? Or the evening in New York when Bunk Johnson sat in with Gillespie's big band, and ended by asking Dizzy what his music was for? Maybe you would like to hear the other Bunk story about the night the old man strolled into a 52nd street joint, grabbed Roy Eldridge's horn, blew the highest note he could on it, proceeded to the street where he made a public speech on top of a beer case to the effect that it was all a fake and a gyp. The man has a mouthpiece no bigger than a straw, I'm 78 years old and I can blow a high F on it, etc. The crowd he gathered was delighted and the crowd included Roy Eldridge who was convulsed at the whole thing. Decca following Benny's suggestion, has released a very wonderful LP by Louis and The Mills Brothers. Ah, fame! Get one. One of Benny's spies who is regularly assigned to Birdland reported that a young pianist named Horace Silver (a Blue Note artist, the m.c. said) played a jump blues which began with a couple of choruses of riffs and then lapsed for a couple more into See See Rider. Ah, progress! A fellow calling himself "Herm" recently reported in Variety that Buck Clayton used to play with Benny Goodman "in the old band." Which old band was that, Herm, the one when Harry James was playing with Benny Moten? If you missed the two part (August 11 and 25) "Blindfold Test" of Louis Armstrong in a certain rival publication over the summer, Benny recommends you get with it. And Lillian Ross' account in the August 14 New Yorker (we can certainly mention their name) of the Newport Jazz Festival was a gasser. bad sam (Continued from Page 11) cast continued for another full hour. The Duke, incidentally, had brought the thenunissued "Ellington 1955" LP along with him (as well as a couple of Capitol executives) to provide real kicks for the listeners. Smart jazz f^ans needed only to flick the dial a little ways over to a relatively new afternoon show, where, a few minutes later, lo and behold, Duke Ellington arrived on the scene, and spent a half hour talking music and spinning the disc for a more understanding and cooperative announcer. The Kid Ory band has lost clarinettist Albert Burbank, who returned home to New Orleans. There seemed to be a good chance that Joe Darensbourg would rejoin Ory until a "friend of the Band" raised highly personal objections ; Darnell Howard seemed possible at press-time, but far from certain. If Ory could run the show himself, with help from "Ram" Hall and Ed Garland, plus Don Ewell, he would have easily the nation's best traditionally-styled band. Another case of not letting musicians create what they want the way they want. Bad Sam and an impressively large percentage of the "hard core" of the two-beat devotees of the S. F. Bay Area wonders what Columbia and Avakian are up to in issuing two ten-inch Turk Murphy LP's of Morton tunes, with much too highly excited album notes and dubious care taken as to releasing only the best. Let's hope this isn't the beginning of a trend which will consist of telling the record buyer a certain band is good over-and-over until he starts believing it. All it does is make the road that much harder for the musicians concerned ; in the case of the thin-skinned Murphy, it just makes it more of a difficulty to accept criticism. Rumors are afoot concerning a Bay Region Ragtime Concert, with possible production of parts of Scott Joplin's opera "Treemonisha," and a number of out of the ordinary acts. Probable date : November or December. The San Francisco area is jumping as never before, with always a half dozen good jazz spots presenting top names in the business. Best indication, to some, is the fact that Ralph Gleason gets two week day jazz columns, plus a full page Sundays in the San Francisco Chronicle. Bad Sam wonders if perhaps Gleason hasn't helped the bands as much as the bands have helped him. Who says Frisco hasn't got cool jazz? . . . from his hotel to the Hangover Club, next door, bassist Walter Page each, foggy August evening wore a topcoat and muffler.