Swing (Feb-Dec 1951)

ARBO-GASPS ON RECORD 277 Then, as time would have it, the B.G. concert was all but forgotten. Until now — thanks to Rachel. Seems Rachel was rummaging through the Goodman family attic and found that which caused all of our happiness stashed away under lampshades and musty letters and such other violent mementos of time passed. For there, Rachel found the master re cordings of every tune played that night at Carnegie — recordings that Benny had forgotten were anywhere around. Thanks, Rachel. You can guess the rest. Columbia has released the music from the Carnegie session on both LP and 45, and it's nothing but soul-stirring. It'll cost ya, but it's worth it — like nothing you've ever heard, if, indeed, you like that kind of stuff in the first place. Me? I love it. The fee: ten bobs on the current mart^a small setback for some 21 brilliant swing songs by the greatest swing musicians of our time. Among the sides: "Sing, Sing, Sing," that lasts by itself, over a quarter of an hour; "One O'Clock Jump"; "Shine"; "Honeysuckle Rose"; "Body and Soul"; and "Blue Skies." I could talk for pages about the featured solos, but I'm a bit incapable of describing greatness of this sort with words. Do yourself a big musical favorhear it. When you do, you'll buy it. It's the "must" to terminate all "musts," ever. A couple of sidelights or three regarding the B.G. session. It has been said by at least one record-reviewer that Gene Krupa's drumming shows lack of taste (and even an occasional lack of beat). We don't concur. We can see the man's point, but we don't feel that his criticism is justified. Rather, we think that Krupa's performance on these sides, good or bad (and we leave that up to you), was brought about by the very drama of the evening. Let's face it, it was the biggest night for modern music of the Golden Era kind — there'll probably never be another like it. If Krupa went a little too wild on occasion, it didn't detract from the overall picture — rather it added, and made the whole session more vibrant. In the words of our producer and music connoisseur, Pete Robinson: "There's something about an in-person performance that brings a drummer out of his usual background position. The fans get worked up; things go a little wild, but there's hardly a better place or time for such goings-on. Whatever the concert recordings lack in polish and recording studio technique, they certainly make up for it in on-the-spot excitement and feeling." (end quote Mr. R.) And, too, while we re taking our hats off to Columbia, we'd like to pass along yet another bit of good cheer to music lovers of a type, to wit: With a view toward revival of the good old days, Columbia has re-issued some other fine things, like "Pound Cake", "Clap Hands, Here comes Charlie", both by the Count Basie band. (Basic is an alumnus of WHB, by the way — a "by the way" of which we are properly proud.) The Basie band on these sides includes Lester Young, Buck Clayton and Harry Edison. Still another chapeau-doffing to the Columbians: Benny Goodman and a full band have cut some heretofore unused Fletcher Henderson (now a very sick man in New York) arrangements written in 1938-40 — a fitting tribute to a wonderful musician. Columbia seems to be showing the way on a big scale. We hope the others follow. For a wind-up to this thing, how about this goodie: CHRISTOPHER ROBIN IS SAYING HIS PRAYERS ... Kay Starr— Capitol. An A. A. Milne poem set to music (Milne's the inker who brought the fabulous "Winnie the Pooh" to the world) from A. A.'s "When We Were Very Young". Miss Starr doesn't give this her usual raucous (but fine) vocal treatment as with "Mama Goes Where Poppa Goes" and "Lonesomest Gal In Town"; but she does Mr. Milne full justice. This, to us, is the greatest lullaby-type since "Rockabye Baby on the Treetop". Try it as a sleepsuggester for the li'l monsters at home . . . although they'll probably like Kay so much, they'll keep ya up all night . . . which is a good thing, I guess, if ya happen to be a pilot who works niehts. But don't get me wrong, I love Olathe. See ya later . . . I'm going to the beach.