JazzWax

Sunday Wax Bits

Three rediscovered solos. After this week's listening sessions, I rediscovered three marvelous solos on albums you probably already own. Each solo is stunning for different reasons:

Al Haig—Groovin' High (1945). This is from the recently issued Town Hall, June 22, 1945. If you're like me, you've probably been too caught up in Bird and Dizzy's solos on this track. But Haig's piano solo ranks right up there with those delivered by Bird and Diz. Haig's playing here is an overlooked masterpiece of bop technique and hair-raising lines.

Art Farmer—Work of Art (1953). This track is on The Art Farmer Septet, Farmer's first date as a leader for Prestige. His trumpet lines are as mentholated as Noxzema and his phrasing and attack are completely new to the scene. Remarkably, his solo remains free from the influence of Miles Davis, Clifford Brown or Chet Baker. It's a style all Farmer's own and signals the arrival of one of jazz's greatest and often underappreciated horns.

Dexter Gordon—Where Are You? (1962). From the album Go, Dexter pours all of his foghorn sorrow into this ballad. In fact, he's so deeply into the song and his solo that he loses pianist Sonny Clark. For some strange reason, Clark can't seem to get comfortable behind Dexter on this track or for that matter many of the other tracks on the album.

New Concord Records releases due. Coming in June from the label's remastered Keepnews Collection:

• Coleman Hawkins—The Hawk Flies
• McCoy Tyner—Fly with the Wind
• Nat Adderley—Work Song
• Sonny Rollins—Freedom Suite
• Wes Montgomery—Incredible Jazz Guitar.

Coming in July from the label's remastered Rudy Van Gelder series:

• John Coltrane—Dakar
• Miles Davis—The Musings of Miles
• The Modern Jazz Quartet—Concorde
• The Red Garland Trio—Groovy
• Sonny Criss' This Is Criss.

Chet Baker posts. Doug Ramsey and Ted Gioia offered marvelous posts this past week on trumpeter Chet Baker, who died 20 years ago after a fall from an Amsterdam hotel. Doug's post here includes a reply from Jeroen de Valk, author of a forthcoming Baker biography. Ted's two-part post here provides wonderful personal anecdotes.

More jazz show tunes. In response to my post last week, "5 CDs: Swing Stage and Screen," disc jockey Sid Gribetz of WKCR-FM in New York offered two more that are off the beaten path:

• Michael Hashim—Guys And Dolls (Stash/1992) is available here used for about $3.

• Gary MacFarland—How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying (Verve/1961) is out of print but available here for about $90.

For a fabulous discography of jazz interpretations of show and movie scores, go here. The list was compiled by Will Friedwald of the New York Sun, Arnold Jay Smith and Michael Fitzgerald

Johnny Hodges and Jack Teagarden. Two sites hosted by Michael Palmer of Australia are worth noting. One is devoted to Johnny Hodges [pictured] here and the other celebrates Jack Teagarden here. Both tribute sites feature large-size photos of these greats plus others that you haven't likely seen before.

Neal Hefti. Today (Sunday), disc jockey Sid Gribetz presents a five-hour radio tribute to the trumpeter, arranger and composer Neal Hefti [pictured]. The show will air from 2 to 7 pm (EST) on WKCR-FM (89.9) in New York. Go here to listen live.

Gone Reading

On a personal note. I'm traveling today to Boston and New Hampshire with my wife. Her memoir, Who Do You Think You Are?, was just published by Simon & Schuster. It received glowing reviews in USA Today yesterday and The New York Times last week. I'm so proud of her. She'll be talking and signing copies at book clubs and bookstores all along the way. I, of course, will be preparing my "Sunday Wax Bits"—when she's not looking. See you back here on Sunday.

Neal Hefti on the air. This Sunday, from 2 to 7 pm (EST), one of the great disc jockeys of all time is hosting a comprehensive, five-hour, ad-free radio show on the career of arranger Neal Hefti. The esteemed disc jockey is Sid Gribetz, whose jazz knowledge and on-air taste are unsurpassed. I love this guy.

Whenever I am lucky enough to catch him early in the morning on "Daybreak Express," Symphony Sid is always spinning a fabulous must-have recording that is largely unknown, even to ardent fans. For example, when I tuned in last week, Sid was playing Coleman Hawkins' Jumpin' Jane, Spotlite, When Your Lover Has Gone and I'll String Along With You. (For those who want these recordings on CD, the first two are here and the second pair are here.)

The beauty of Sid's Hefti tribute on WKCR-FM (89.9) is that you can tune in anywhere in the country or the world via your computer. Go here to listen to a live stream. Dig Sid's scene. He's an all-frantic throwback to a time when thinking played a critical role on the radio.

Unsure what time 2 pm (EST) is in Germany, France, Japan or San Francisco? Go here to the World Clock. It displays the current time worldwide.

Interview: Creed Taylor (Part 4)

cTwo months after taking his first job as a record producer for Bethlehem Records in 1955, Creed Taylor was on a roll. He inaugurated the 10-inch LP at the label with vocalist Chris Connor; befriended Quincy Jones; signed Oscar Pettiford, Herbie Mann, Ruby Braff and many others to the label; and was fast on his way to transforming the way the jazz LP was produced, packaged and promoted. [pictured: Creed Taylor with Oliver Nelson]

Ultimately, what set Creed apart was naivete and determination. Unfamiliar with conventional recording-industry practices, Creed  created a winning recording formula from scratch, going after up-and-coming artists and giving musicians space to realize their musical visions. In sum, Creed brought a grace and polish to jazz recordings that didn't exist yet in the early LP era. Between 1954 and 1956, he produced dozens of records that conveyed an urban, love-struck sophistication on the cover while the recordings themselves captured a new energy and intellect emerging among cutting-edge artists. The results were LPs that connected with hard-core jazz listeners and romantic youth alike. [pictured: Creed Taylor with Freddie Hubbard]

In the final part of my conversation with Creed on his Bethlehem years, he reflects on Carmen McRae, Charlie Shavers and Jack Teagarden, and muses on the one recording session he wishes he had captured:

JazzWax: You were one of the first to record Carmen McRae in 1954, in a small group setting. What was she like?
Creed Taylor: Carmen’s sound and her attention to the meaning of a song's lyrics were incredible. Look, I don’t want to put down a great artist like Ella [Fitzgerald]. But Ella and I would not be on the same track. For me, Chris Connor, Carmen McRae, Nina Simone and even Anita O’Day had enormous respect for the meaning of a song’s lyrics. They’d use little nuances and phrasings, plus all of the stylistic stuff you’d expect from a singer. But if Ella sings Cottage for Sale, she’s not going to sound like Chris Connor. Ella is fantastic, but when she sings I always wonder what happened to the meaning of the song.

JW: So the song’s “story” is lost with Ella, or perhaps her focus was on perfection rather than emotion?
CT: I think so. For me, at least.

JW: You recorded Charlie Shavers at Bethlehem. What was he like?
CT: What a funny guy. We did an album called Horn O’ Plenty in October 1954. On that album we recorded a medley of songs illustrating the jazz trumpet's history. He played all the styles, from New Orleans through Dizzy’s Salt Peanuts. It was narrated by Al “Jazzbo” Collins, a hipster disc jockey at the time. Charlie blew up a storm on that date.

JW: What made Charlie so special?
CT: His phrasing was different. He had an enormous range. And his vibrato was different. He could play strong without losing his great sense of humor. I recall a vocal he did that was so spur of the moment. The written lyric went something like, “Into the tent he crept” but Charlie added, parenthetically, “naked as a jay bird.” And then he roared with laughter. These guys all could think on the go and add enormous humor to the art they were creating.

JW: You recorded Jack Teagarden several times for Bethlehem.
CT: What an artist. Jack made it look so easy. Most people are unaware that he used unusual slide positions on the trombone because his arms were short. His vocals were sensational. Yet he was so quiet when he wasn’t playing. He really didn’t talk much.

JW: Is there a recording session at Bethlehem that you wish you could go back and put together?
CT: Sure. Jack Teagarden and Chris Connor. That would have been some pair. Somehow their paths never crossed.

JW: Which artists who recorded for you at Bethlehem had exceptional sounds on their horns?
CT: Urbie Green and Hal McKusick [Hal pictured, center]. Their sounds were sensational and unmistakable. You knew Urbie’s trombone from the first notes. And Hal’s sound was pure. We did that East Coast Jazz, Vol. 8 recording together, with Barry Galbraith, Milt Hinton and Osie Johnson. Hal’s sound was not unlike Paul Desmond’s. Both were pretty.

JW: You didn’t do the West Coast producing for Bethlehem. Why not?
CT: Back then it wasn’t economical. Red Clyde produced sessions for Bethlehem on the West Coast. As far as I was concerned, nothing was happening on the West Coast anyway.

JW: Why did you leave Bethlehem in 1956?
CT: Just as I read Billboard today, I read the magazine then. Back in 1956, I saw an article about ABC Paramount starting a record company. I liked the idea of ABC. I thought the exposure would be bigger for me there. So I wrote Sam Clark, ABC Paramount’s president, and set up an appointment. I really liked Harry Levine, his vice president. What Harry had done at the Paramount Theater [pictured] booking Frank Sinatra and all the big bands was mind-boggling. Harry loved show business.

JW: How did your interview go?
CT: Great. Sam hired me on the spot. I liked the fact that ABC recorded many different genres of music. When I worked there, I used to go across the street to a record store and thumb through the bins to see what genres were available and which ones weren’t. So I wound up doing an album of college drinking songs, an album of drinking songs under the table, songs of World War I, Flamenco music, and so on.

JW: You put jazz on hold?
CT: Not exactly. I had to sneak it in. I didn’t want to go full stream with guys who didn’t know what jazz was about. Except for Harry Levine, of course. I had to work my way in with jazz gradually. I had to show them first that I could produce profitable albums of all music styles. Only then could I start concentrating more on jazz.

JazzWax tracks:  Charlie Shavers' Horn O' Plenty (1954) featured Bennie Morton on trombone, Hank D'Amico on clarinet, Kenny Kersey on piano, Aaron Bell on bass and Panama Francis on drums. Go here.

Charlie Shavers also recorded an album for Bethlehem backed by strings. Long out of print, the tracks on Charlie Shavers with Strings (1955) [pictured] have been released on a LoneHill Jazz release called Charlie Shavers: Complete Intimate Interpretations. Go here.

Another beauty produced by Creed was The Return of Howard McGhee (1955), featuring McGhee on trumpet, Sahib Shihab on alto and baritone saxes, Duke Jordan on piano, Percy Heath on bass and Philly Joe Jones on drums. Go here.

And perhaps my favorite of all is The Herbie Mann-Sam Most Quintet (1955), featuring Mann and Most on flutes, backed by Joe Puma on guitar, Jimmy Gannon on bass and Lee Kleinman on drums. Go here.

Interview: Creed Taylor (Part 3)

With the success of Chris Connor's 10-Inch LPs for Bethlehem Records in 1954, producer Creed Taylor had the validation and confidence he needed to leverage his vision. Weary of open-ended jam sessions that dominated the early years of the 10-inch LP, Creed sought to revolutionize the format by packaging LPs as tight artistic concepts rather than random collections of extended singles. [pictured: Creed Taylor and organist Jimmy Smith]

In the last four months of 1954 alone, Creed produced Bethlehem LPs by Hank D'Amico, Carmen McRae, Charlie Shavers, Ruby Braff, Jack Teagarden, Joe Puma, Oscar Pettiford [pictured], Herbie Mann and others. In early 1955, Creed shifted into overdrive, averaging six recording sessions a month. These dates were led by Urbie Green, Don Elliott, Milt Hinton, Kai Winding, J.J. Johnson, Hal McKusick and many others. Increasingly, Creed selected the sidemen for dates and insisted on a high percentage of original material by session leaders.

In Part 3 of my conversation with Creed about his Bethlehem years, he talks about the mood created by the label's cover art, his friendship with Quincy Jones, the importance of Charlie's Tavern, how he convinced Oscar Pettiford to trim his solos, and how his one tangle with Stan Getz was resolved:

JazzWax: You enjoyed the business side of the business as much as recording the music, didn't you?
Creed Taylor: Very much so. I was fascinated by the record business, from how to put a record's cover and liner notes together to getting the records into stores and selling them.

JW: Speaking of covers, many of Bethlehem's had this dark, nocturnal look and feel. Was that deliberate?
CT: The look was developed by our art director, Burt Goldblatt. I'd tell him the subject matter and he’d create the design. My innovation was adding sheet lamination to the covers, giving them a sleek, polished look. It wasn’t until later, in the late 1960s, when the printing technology became more sophisticated that I became more heavily involved in developing a vision for covers.

JW: Like Chris Connor, Herbie Mann was another artist whose talents you recognized early and produced perfectly in the mid-1950s.
CT: When I moved from the Upper West Side to Waverly Place in Greenwich Village in late 1954, I lived in a brownstone with a garden out back. Each time I’d go outside, I’d hear a flute player practicing incessantly. He’d play scales and then launch into amazing jazz lines. I decided I had to find out who the devil was playing. So I narrowed the location and knocked on the guy’s door. The guy playing was Herbie. It turned out he had already done a bit of recording with Mat Mathews for Coral. We recorded a series of records with Herbie. There was the Chicken Little session in December 1954; Flamingo, a quartet album; a quintet album with flutist Sam Most; Songs of a Woman in Love, Herbie Mann Plays, and a bunch of others with different groups of musicians, including Kai Winding and J.J. Johnson.

JW: Was it hard to come up with just the right personnel mix for the sessions?
CT: Actually it was relatively easy. Charlie’s Tavern played a big role. The bar was right across from Bethlehem’s offices. We were on the 13th floor of 1350 Broadway. Charlie’s Tavern was at 51st St. and 7th Ave. The bar had a back entrance that led to an alley. Across the alley was Birdland. When musicians would go on a break at Birdland, they would cross the alley and go into Charlie’s Tavern for a drink. I could go down almost any time of day from my office, put together a band and go out to Rudy Van Gelder’s studio in New Jersey the next day and record.

JW: Were you ever concerned that artists might not share your vision?
CT: I never thought about it. The artists were all interesting, intelligent guys. One of my best friends in the early 1950s was Quincy Jones, who knew everyone. Quincy had just come in from Chicago, and I had just come up from Virginia. Soon after I started I signed Oscar Pettiford to Bethlehem. Quincy, Oscar and I planned the first Oscar date [Bass by Pettiford] at Charlie's Tavern.

JW: But how did you get artists to go along with your vision?
CT: I talked it over with them very quietly, usually one on one.

JW: But if you’re Oscar Pettiford, you want to solo. Who is Creed Taylor to tell him what to do?
CT: [laughing] With Oscar, I might say, “Hey, Oscar, if you don’t play a shorter solo next time, I’m not going to have you down to my pad for dinner.” I used to make him pasta dinners at my place on Waverly Place. Oscar might put up a fuss initially but eventually he'd understand where I was coming from. I think it’s a matter of conviction. In my experience, if you believe strongly in what you’re saying, and if what you’re saying clearly has the artist's creative interests at heart, things seem to go pretty smoothly.

JW: So showing passion and communicating a vision were pretty key, combined with a good sense of humor.
CT: I think so. All those guys back then had the greatest sense of humor. They’d come up with outlandish stories. [photo of Dizzy Gillespie by Herb Ritts]

JW: Producing also depended on pairing the right musicians, yes?
CT: If I knew that a particular bass player liked playing with a particular drummer but that the bass player sounded better with another drummer, I’d simply say, “I have an idea and I’d really like to see what you sound like with this guy or that guy.” That was enough to make my point.

JW: Do you think your psychology training at Duke University came in handy?
CT: Maybe. Psychologists deal with the subconscious. If my training sank in and emerged when I needed it, so be it. It wasn’t a conscious effort on my part.

JW: But you had to be a pretty quick study of human nature.
CT: I suppose so. Look, at the end of the day, it’s what a great musician sounds like. And I could identify with the sound of a particular artist. For example, I could easily identify with Stan Getz, who recorded for me when I was at Verve in the early 1960s.

JW: How did you handle Stan, who was notoriously difficult?
CT: Stan could be very arrogant and didn’t hesitate to put people down. It’s hard to describe because we had an ongoing relationship. It popped through with us only once. I remember we were recording Focus when I was at Verve. We were recording at Webster Hall in July 1961. At one point, Stan got nasty. I told him that if he didn’t cool it, I would leave. When he did it again, I said I was leaving. So I shut down the session and left. Later he apologized and came back to finish the date.

JW: Stan was a pretty tough guy.
CT: I remember standing in front of Charlie’s Tavern with Phil Woods in the mid-1950s. Phil was talking about Stan. He said Stan was so mean that if he walked out into the street right in front of us and a steamroller flattened him out, he’d just get up and walk away. But if Stan knew you knew what he was up to, and I did, you didn’t have much of a problem with him. If not, he’d mess with you. Stan just had this need to be aggressive.

JW: Sometimes these creative geniuses could be like kids.
CT: Well, sure.

Tomorrow, Creed talks about his impressions of vocalist Carmen McRae, trumpeter Charlie Shavers, trombonists Jack Teagarden and Urbie Green, and saxophonist Hal McKusick. Creed also explains why he left Bethlehem in 1956 for ABC Paramount Records.

Jazzwax tracks: Creed Taylor's years producing records for Bethlehem Records between 1954 and 1956 resulted in dozens of stunning recordings. Here's a sampling of my favorites recorded just between the fall of 1954 and the spring of 1955. Some are out of print while others appear on newly released collections.

Oscar Pettiford—Nonet and Octet: 1954-1955. This CD captures several of Pettiford's recordings for Bethlehem. Go here.

Herbie Mann—Herbie Mann Plays (1955). This remastered gem is still available for only $2.99 used from independent sellers. Go here.

Hal McKusick—The Complete Barry Galbraith, Milt Hinton & Osie Johnson Recordings (1955). This two-CD set includes Hal's Bethlehem release East Coast Jazz/Vol. 8. [pictured] Go here.

Ruby Braff—The Best of Ruby Braff (1954-55). This CD combines two different Bethlehem sessions and features trumpeter Braff and a band of top studio musicians swinging the arrangements of Bob Wilber. Go here

Urbie Green—East Coast Jazz/Vol. 6 (1955). Superb playing by the smoothest trombonist around. Urbie fronted a septet here that included Danny Bank on reeds, Doug Mettome on trumpet and Oscar Pettiford on bass. Go here.

Milt Hinton—Quartet (1955). The CD Tony Scott and the Three Dicks [pictured] combines several sessions by the great bassist. Go here.

Kai Winding and J.J. Johnson—K + JJ (1955). One of the early recordings by these dueling trombone giants. Go here.

 

Interview: Creed Taylor (Part 2)

In the late 1940s, Creed Taylor set his sights on playing trumpet in a big band or in clubs on New York's 52d Street. But after majoring in psychology at Duke University and spending two years in the Marine Corps, Creed decided he might be better off as a record producer. Passionate about jazz, Creed's college and military backgrounds certainly prepared him for achieving big goals, inspiring artists, and managing creative temperaments.

In Part 2 of my conversation with the legendary record producer, Creed talks about moving to New York in 1954, landing a job with Bethlehem Records, recording the label's first 10-inch LPs with Chris Connor, and how he promoted her records in the mid-1950s. Creed also resolves the mystery of how radio announcer Bob Garrity's voice wound up on some versions of the 10-inch LP announcing Connor at Birdland:

JazzWax: In 1954, you arrived in New York determined to become a record producer. What did you know about producing?
Creed Taylor: Nothing. I was just convinced I could do it. I had this drive. It was a mix of naivete and positive thinking. I've always looked at possibilities that way.

JW: Even back in Virginia?
CT: When I was in high school I heard the Elliot Lawrence band at Virginia Tech. I was so taken with that 1946-47 band, I jumped on the band’s bus and waited until Elliot came on. When he came on I walked up to him and said, “Hey Elliot, my name is Creed Taylor. I want to get on your band.”

JW: Just like that?
CT: Just like that.

JW: Did you think you were good enough?
CT: Yes. Elliot gave me his card and said to give his manager a call. He said, “When we get back to New York I'll talk to my manager and we’ll give you a call.” I, of course, let that blow over. But I look back on that event and ask myself “How did I do that?” I was naïve.

JW: Did you have an inkling of how to produce an LP?
CT: Like everyone else who was interested in jazz at the time, I was listening to Norman Granz's Jazz at the Philharmonic and Alfred Lion's Blue Note recordings. There were great soloists at the time. But I thought the listener’s attention span was being stretched by interminable bass and drum solos. Any solo that went on forever, I thought, was the wrong way to try to make people like the music I loved. So I decided that I would produce records that I liked, recorded the way I wanted to hear them.

JW: When you got to New York, where did you stay?
CT: I had a room in a walkup on 86th St. and Riverside Drive. Immediately after I moved in, I went down to a record company near Times Square that had been co-founded by a drummer from Duke University. He had met Gus Wildi, a Swiss guy with a lot of money, and together they had started a company called Bethlehem Records.

JW: How was the company doing?
CT: When I got to New York in 1954, the label was on its last legs. They were still recording 78-rpms at a time when the 10-inch LP was coming in. I told them, “There are 10-inch LPs out there and you guys have a singer who’s great named Chris Connor." She had already recorded for Bethlehem in December 1953 with Sy Oliver’s orchestra, but they didn't know what to do with her.

JW: What did you do?
CT: In the summer of '54, I talked to Chris [pictured] and found out she had vast knowledge of great songs that were hip and that she wanted to record them. I told Bethlehem to let me go in and produce the label's first 10-inch LP with her. I told them I was going to call it Lullaby of Birdland. They gave me the go ahead. Even though the company wasn’t in great shape, the owner had funds and realized it was a necessary investment.

JW: What did you have in mind for Chris?
CT: Back then there was a piano player named Ellis Larkins [pictured]. I thought he was fantastic. For me, he was like Wynton Kelly, who was recording for Blue Note and Verve at the time. I told Chris we should do her album with the Ellis Larkins’ trio. She loved the idea. So I called Ellis and booked the Fulton Recording Studios, at 80 West 40th St., across from Bryant Park. I knew Tom Dowd, the engineer there. I had met him at Birdland, and he was a very musical guy. So when Ellis and Chris came to the studio in early August, I sat in the booth with Tom and did what I do today. Chris and I had decided which songs to record in advance. The result was so terrific that a few weeks later we recorded her with the Vinnie Burke Quartet for another 10-inch LP. We also recorded an album in 1955 with Kai Winding and J.J. Johnson.

JW: But back in the mid-1950s, producing didn’t end in the engineer's booth, did it?
CT: No, no. Once Chris recorded, I had to get the record on the radio. I listened to the radio a great deal then. So I went over to WNEW and WABC with a dub of the session and did on-air interviews. I also worked on point-of-sale efforts. When Lullaby of Birdland came out, I had a big six-foot high cutout of Chris standing in front of Birdland to promote the album. I also brought special copies to radio stations that that allowed radio announcers [such as WINS' Bob Garrity] to dub in their voices, so it sounded like they were announcing her [at Birdland]. Life was very simple then [laughing].

JW: What else did you do for the album?
CT: I reached out to radio stations popular with black audiences. The disc jockeys there knew which jazz records were great and which weren't. Their audiences and other jockeys in the city knew that what they played often set the trend. I became friendly with many of these jockeys. They, in turn, were friends with jockeys who broadcast during drive-time hours, which had the largest audiences. Fortunately they thought Chris' album was very hip. I asked if they would talk to the other jockeys and get them to play the album, and they did.

JW: How did you put records in stores?
CT: I had to become friendly with record distributors and store buyers and merchandisers. Through all of these combined efforts, Lullaby of Birdland became something of a hit for Bethlehem. But none of my efforts would have paid off if the album hadn’t been superb to begin with.

Tomorrow, in Part 3, Creed talks about the unique look of Bethlehem's album covers, how he discovered Herbie Mann, the significance of Charlie's Tavern, and how he convinced jazz giants like Oscar Pettiford to tighten up the length of their solos.

JazzWax tracks: Chris Connor recorded four LPs for Bethlehem, three under Creed Taylor's direction. The Creed Taylor albums featuring the Ellis Larkins Trio, the Vinnie Burke Quartet and the Kai Winding-J.J. Johnson Quintet remain solid examples of Chris' "slick chick" vocal style and her unrestrained ability to tell a heart-torn story through a song's lyrics.

All of her Bethlehem output is available on a Fresh Sound CD here. Or you can download Chris Connor Sings Lullabys of Birdland from iTunes, which includes tracks from three of her Bethlehem albums. The remastering on this download is astonishingly clear and crisp. Included in the download is a fascinating Why Shouldn't I (Alt Take 2). At the start of the take, you can hear Creed's voice announcing from the booth, "Cut 2...Go."

JazzWax perspective: As you'll hear on these recordings, Creed Taylor's pairing of Chris Connor with Ellis Larkins and then Vinnie Burke were strokes of genius. Connor's husky yet vulnerable voice in 1954 and 1955 demanded delicate instrumentation, not a rip-roaring big band. While Connor's two closest rivals with similar phrasing, June Christy and Anita O'Day, continued to front big bands on recordings, Creed and Connor broke barriers, helping to establish the female vocalist as someone with a soft story to tell.

To fully grasp the importance of Connor's Bethlehem sessions, consider this: Months after Lullaby of Birdland hit, Capitol Records decided to try putting June Christy in the studio with only Stan Kenton on piano for the Duets album. Interestingly, the album remains plodding and ill-conceived. Christy did record with the Ernie Felice Quartet in 1950, but she's really belting out the tracks rather than whispering in your ear. Her only trio date of the 1950s was A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening (1957) with the Shelly Manne Trio.

On a re-listen of Christy's trio date, you come to the realization that she really wasn't comfortable being backed by a small group. While she could give it up effortlessly when supported by horns, she had trouble figuring out how to miniaturize her talents with a trio or quartet.

As for O'Day, she recorded with the Nat King Cole trio in 1944 and the Tadd Dameron trio at the Royal Roost in 1948. But those dates really were novelty and bop sessions. Her first full-fledged, intimate trio album isn't until 1958, when she records Anita O'Day at Mr. Kelly's.

The rise of the intimate female vocalist, supported softly by a lush jazz trio or quartet, starts with Chris Connor and Carmen McRae, who also recorded for Creed Taylor and Bethlehem Records during this period.

Interview: Creed Taylor (Part 1)

One of the unsung heroes of jazz history is the jazz record producer. From the birth of the LP in the early 1950s (first the 10-inch disc and then the 12-inch record), producers were responsible for championing jazz artists, signing them to labels, creating the vision for record dates, shaping the album's song selection, setting the order, choosing and assembling the sidemen, and ensuring that what audiences heard sounded great. Then their necks were on the line to promote, market and sell the result. [photo of Quincy Jones and producer Creed Taylor]

Of all the great record producers of the LP era, one of the most successful was Creed Taylor. Since the early 1950s, Creed pioneered new ways of recording and packaging artists at Bethlehem Records (1954-56), brought jazz into the mainstream at ABC Paramount (1956-60), launched Impulse Records (1960), created blockbuster albums at Verve (1960-67), merged jazz and pop at A&M Records (1967-69), and sustained jazz at CTI Records (1970-78) when jazz seemed destined for the scrap heap. Through the decades, Creed helped artists such as Stan Getz, John Coltrane, Jack Teagarden and Wes Montgomery successfully re-invent themselves. And with the help of photographer Pete Turner, he set new standards for album cover design and packaging in the 1960s and 1970s. [photo of Creed and Wes Montgomery above by Chuck Stewart]

In Part 1 of my four-part interview with Creed on his early years at Bethlehem, we talked first about his life growing up in rural Virginia, his service in the Marines, and the radio personality who convinced him to abandon graduate studies in psychology and pursue his dream of becoming a New York City jazz record producer:

JazzWax: Where did you grow up?
Creed Taylor: My family lived in Bedford, Virginia [pictured], a rural town in the middle of the state, about 50 miles from Lynchburg. My grandfather was editor and publisher of The Bedford Democrat, a newspaper he founded. My father started a flourmill in southwestern Virginia, so we moved back and forth between Bedford and a hamlet west of Roanoke called White Gate.

JW: Did you play an instrument in school?
CT: I played trumpet in high school. I chose the trumpet because of Harry James. I loved his records on the radio. But over time I found I wasn’t crazy about his vibrato so I moved on to Dizzy Gillespie. That is, until I ordered a couple of transcribed Dizzy Gillespie solos. Once I had a look at those, I figured I was better off sticking with Harry as a role model. [pictured: Creed Taylor, right]

JW: Were you good?
CT: Yeah, I was.

JW: Did playing the trumpet come naturally to you?
CT: It did. The music I heard growing up was blue grass and Country music. I’d hear it all the time when we were living in White Gate. Our homestead was two mountains away from where the Carter Family lived. I used to go up to the local high school and listen to Bill Monroe, the Carter Family and all of those guys. There were fantastic fiddle players there—hoedown sort of stuff. [pictured: Carter Family homestead]

JW: What do you mean by “two mountains away?”
CT: You drove or walked up one mountain and down the other side and then over another one. There were no towns. The area was rural. The Carter Family recorded in Bristol, on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, just to the west White Gate. So I heard this music all the time, both live and on the family radio. [pictured: A.P. Carter's cabin]

JW: Did you like blue grass and Country music?
CT: It drove me nuts. However, a few years ago I started listening to Country music again. My maturity has given me a new perspective on this genre. [pictured: The Carter Family]

JW: What music did you listen to in rural Virginia?
CT: I loved the big bands and jazz, which was a lot more fun to listen to. It was cooler music. It made you feel hip, not corny.

JW: How did you ever hear jazz and big band music in the far reaches of Virginia?
CT: I had a small radio in my bed that I listened to very late at night. When everyone was asleep, that radio could pick up the frequency from WJZ in New York coming over the mountains. I’d hear Symphony Sid’s [pictured] broadcasts directly from Birdland. He’d paint amazing pictures on the air. He said he sat in a glass booth overlooking the club, and between sets he'd observe what was going on. He’d say things like, “Well look over there, it’s Kai Winding talking to Diz at the bar. And, Count Basie just walked in to catch a set.” Stuff like that.

JW: Why did Symphony Sid's banter have such a hold on you?
CT: Everything he talked about was so cool and clear in my head, not just about the music but also the social surroundings of the jazz players. All I could think of was, “Wow, this music is something else.” I couldn’t wait to get up to New York and start meeting the people Symphony Sid was talking about.

JW: Did your parents like jazz?
CT: Sure. But for them, jazz was ragtime or Leadbelly [pictured]  or Jelly Roll Morton. My folks loved music, no matter what it was. My grandmother was a fiddle player.

JW: Before you came to New York, you studied psychology at Duke University. Was your father unhappy about that?
CT: Funny you should ask. He was. He wanted me to become a doctor. So I took two years of premed to get it out of my system and get my father off my back. I started majoring in psychology when I was a junior.

JW: What did you do after college?
CT: I went to graduate school at Duke to study psychology. But my studies were interrupted by the draft. I spent two years in the Marine Corps, starting in September 1951. I didn’t choose the Marines. They chose me. It was not a picnic. I spent the first year at Parris Island, which was grueling. I taught illiterate Marine recruits how to read and write. There were so many recruits pouring into the service then because of the Korean War and the threat of China’s invasion.

JW: Were you sent to Korea?
CT: Yes. They shipped me over to Korea in 1952. But before I left, I was stationed for a few weeks at Camp Pendleton, about a half hour north of San Diego. On leave, every weekend I used to go up to The Lighthouse at Hermosa Beach. I heard the original Gerry Mulligan-Chet Baker Quartet, Art Pepper, Red Norvo, Tal Farlow, Charles Mingus and many others. [photo: Ray Avery Archive]

JW: Did you talk to these guys while you were there?
CT: Oh sure. I became good friends with Shorty Rogers, who showed me chord structures and how he wrote his arrangements. Shorty [pictured, standing] was such a nice guy. He was so modest and helpful. The Red Norvo Trio knocked me out. I spoke to Red and Tal, but Mingus was kind of distant. I bought a 10-inch LP of the Mulligan-Baker group and took it with me to Korea along with a battery-operated record player. I listened to that group in my bunker, on the front line in Korea. I still have that record someplace.

JW: Did you see action in Korea?
CT: I spent a year in combat. For a time I was a forward observer. I worked with a map that had quadrants of the terrain out front. When I saw lights on a convoy traveling through no-man’s land, my job was to call them back to the 105mm Artillery, which opened up on the lights. We were under the auspices of the UN. I was there until the truce was announced in September 1953, exactly two years after I was drafted.

JW: Were you a different person when you were discharged?
CT: Not really. I think I blended right back in.

JW: Did you return to Virginia?
CT: Yes. But as soon as I got back, I decided right away to move to New York. I told my family that I was going to New York to play in bands. They weren’t too happy about that. But what I really wanted to do was produce records.

Tomorrow, in Part 2, Creed talks about arriving in New York, how he landed a job at Bethlehem Records, his first record produced for Chris Connor called Lullaby of Birdland, and what he did to make the 10-inch LP a jazz hit.

JazzWax tracks: It's hard now to fully appreciate the Svengali-like hold radio disc jockeys held over young ears in the 1940s. As after-midnight live radio remotes from nightclubs became increasingly popular in the late 1940s, disc jockeys were given greater leeway to fill time on air between songs and sets. As a result, they became jazz personalities in their own right. In New York, the best announcers were masters at vividly capturing what they saw and heard using heavily romantic, Runyonesque language.

Few disc jockeys of the period were as prominent as Symphony Sid [pictured], who got his name originally selling records at the Symphony Record Store. Starting in the mid-1940s, Symphony Sid worked for a series of radio stations.

Two of my favorite examples of Symphony Sid's on-air style can be found on Charlie Parker: The Complete Savoy Live Performances (1947-1950) here and Bill Evans: The 1960 Birdland Sessions here.

Sunday Wax Bits

Starting tomorrow, JazzWax talks to legendary jazz producer Creed Taylor [pictured] about his early years at Bethlehem Records (1954-56).

Grant Stewart at Smoke. Last night I caught tenor saxophonist Grant Stewart at Smoke on New York's Upper West Side. During the first set, the Grant Stewart Quintet played six tunes, three from his new album, Young at Heart (full disclosure: I wrote the liner notes but receive no royalties.) Grant was joined by Ryan Kisor on trumpet, David Hazeltine on piano, Joel Forbes on bass and Joe Farnsworth on drums.

The group opened with a spirited Young at Heart, followed by Peter Bernstein's cooker Jet Stream. Two gorgeous standards followed—I'm Glad There is You (on which Grant shrewdly tagged Thelonious Monk's Friday the Thirteenth) and I Had the Craziest Dream, both taken at a medium tempo. Grant's Shades of Jackie Mac, which is built on Sweet Georgia Brown but feels like Dig and Giant Steps, included a stunning solo by drummer Joe Farnsworth, who seems to grow stronger each time I see him. The group wrapped up with a spirited blues.

Grant continues to amaze, working the bottom of his horn fearlessly while remaining crisply lyrical and reverential to the tenor giants he adores. Grant confidently knows his history, and it shows. David Hazeltine's [pictured] bedrock technique on the keyboard and his tension-release style of playing is perfect for Grant (hopefully we'll see an album soon pairing the two). David's rich lock-chord attacks aren't to be missed.

Joe Farnsworth [pictured] is a high-intensity drummer, and last night he threw out dozens of figures, always keeping the group and audience on edge. Ryan Kisor has a pensive, Kenny Dorham feel—round, precise and with a knowing sensitivity. Joel's bass was rock solid and could be heard through it all.

Grant's latest album, Young at Heart, can be downloaded at iTunes or at Amazon here. Or it's available as a CD here.

Dan Morgenstern. In response to my Friday post on five little-known jazz CDs that celebrated major Broadway shows and movie musicals, the great Dan Morgenstern of the Institute of Jazz Studies at Rutgers University sent along the following e-mail:

"Great selections, but my favorite in this genre is another Barney Kessel item: Some Like It Hot (Contemporary), with the seriously underrated Joe Gordon on trumpet; the wonderful Jimmy Rowles on piano; and Art Pepper, who, of course, is great on alto but a standout on clarinet. I should note that this is not a stage/screen score like the others, but a collection of vintage standards heard in that five-star film!"

Ira Gitler. During the week I heard from the marvelous jazz writer Ira Gitler, who pointed out that Teddy Edwards wasn't the first to record a bebop solo on the tenor sax, as I had posted. That distinction, he notes, belongs to Dexter Gordon, who took bop solos while recording in Billy Eckstine's band in September 1944 for the De Luxe label and while recording with Dizzy Gillespie on Groovin' High and Blue 'n' Boogie in February 1945 for Guild. My original post on Teddy Edwards (May 7, 2008) has been updated to reflect this new information.

Speaking of Teddy Edwards. Bret Primack sent along a link to a YouTube clip of the Gerald Wilson Orchestra that features tenor saxophonist Teddy Edwards [pictured]. See for yourself here why this tenor saxophonist was so special.

Bags Meets Wes clip. The sensational Bret Primack also has just completed the edit of his video podcast for Concord Records' release of Bags Meets Wes. The album is available remastered as part of the label's Keepnews Collection series, and the sound is sterling. Bret's conversation with producer Orrin Keepnews is, as always, filled with little-known facts about the making of this strong session. Go here.

Showtime at the Apollo. A reminder: The Jazz Foundation of America's A Great Night in Harlem gala concert at the Apollo Theater on May 29th will feature Bill Cosby, Danny Glover, Randy Weston, Frank Foster, Jimmy Heath, Phil Woods, Frank Wess, Hank Jones, Dave Brubeck and many, many others. Proceeds from ticket sales will enable the Jazz Foundation to continue helping jazz musicians in need. Tickets: (212) 245-3999, ext. 28. Seats: $50. Time: 8 pm.

Les Brown riddle solved. Hans Dorrscheidt, a supersharp jazz fan and JazzWax reader in Germany, has solved the "Riddle of the Honey Bun Arranger." On Friday, in my post on five favorite jazz interpretations of stage and screen, I noted that the first track of Les Brown's Dancing to South Pacific appeared to be written by "J. Hiff." Or at least that's how it appears on my CD when I squint at the reproduction of the back cover.

"The arranger you're wondering about is most likely Jay Hill, who played trombone with Les Brown and wrote many a chart for him, too."

Bravo, Hans!

Four Rich Brothers—for free! Back on April 29, 2008, I featured 10 favorite Jimmy Giuffre [pictured] arrangements and recordings. One of them was Four Rich Brothers, recorded by Buddy Rich's band of 1948. I find it to be slightly more spirited than the Woody Herman classic recorded months earlier, and it features Giuffre playing (Herman's does not). Thanks to Bruno Leicht of Germany, you can go here and dig the entire track for free. By the way, Bruno hosts a fabulous blog here that's loaded with jazz insights and free music clips.

5 CDs: Swings Stage and Screen

Jazz interpretations of Broadway shows and movie musicals are notoriously iffy. Past recordings either hit them just right, taking the standards to new levels, or they miss by a mile. And when they miss, the reasons are usually that the songs were played too straight or too jazzy. Or they feature solos that drag on in an effort to eat up time on an LP rather than employ skillful arrangements.

You won't find Oscar Peterson's West Side Story, Vince Guaraldi's Jazz Impressions of Black Orpheus, or Shelly Manne's My Fair Lady on today's list of five favorites. All are super albums, but they're too well known and too obvious for this post. As you'll see, the ones I've selected are a bit off the beaten trail and may even be unknown to you. All are smart executions that I think you'll enjoy as much as I do. Here they are, in no particular order:

Fiddler on the Roof—Cannonball Adderley (1964). Recorded for Capitol Records in October 1964, this album is a sleeper. If you've avoided it under the assumption that Cannonball had to have been forced to make this album, you'd be wrong. This CD succeeds on so many levels, from the performances to the arrangements of the Jerry Bock songs. Cannonball is joined by Nat Adderley, Charles Lloyd, Joe Zawinul, Sam Jones and Louis Hayes. Cannonball even included Sewing Machine, a song written for the musical but deleted prior to the show's opening on Broadway. The album is available at iTunes or as a CD here.

Music From Breakfast at Tiffany's—Barney Kessel (1962). The beauty of this Reprise album is that it runs very close to the original soundtrack, which is a Henry Mancini masterpiece. What makes the album special is the swinging interpretation of each song. Recorded in January 1962, just three months after the film's release, guitarist Barney Kessel was joined by Bud Shank, Paul Horn, Victor Feldman, Chuck Berghofer and Earl Palmer. If you know the original soundtrack, then this album will be doubly interesting. The arrangements adhere closely to Mancini's score and respectfully tag his orchestral touches throughout. A tad faux-rock noisy in spots (you could skip Mr. Yunioshi and Hub Caps and Tail Lights), the album's softer songs are pure joy. Plus you get to hear Bud Shank on a sumptuous flute as well as alto. The album is available at iTunes. Or it's on CD here, together with two other Kessel albums.

Gypsy—Annie Ross (1959). There has been much mystery surrounding when exactly this album was recorded. In all likelihood, the World Pacific date was held in January 1959. That would place the session a month before Ross recorded A Gasser! in February with Zoot Sims and two months before she became the third member of Lambert, Hendricks and Ross. But how could it have been recorded in January 1959 if the Jule Styne-Stephen Sondheim musical opened on Broadway in May? As Michael Cuscuna shrewdly points in the updated notes, Buddy Bregman, the album's arranger, was Styne's nephew and must have had advanced access to the score. On this album, the steamy Ross was teamed with a monster West Coast jazz ensemble: Conte Candoli, Pete Candoli, Frank Rosolino, Herb Geller, Richie Kamuca and Stan Getz, Bill Perkins, Russ Freeman, Jim Hall, Monty Budwig and Mel Lewis. As you can imagine, every track has splash, dash, punch and pow. The CD is out of print but available here used, from independent sellers for about $8. All I can say is, grab it while you still can!

Dance to South Pacific—Les Brown (1958). This Capitol album was recorded in January 1958 and arranged by a showcase of penmen, including Sonny Burke, Don Bagley, Frank Comstock, Billy May, Wes Hensel and Les Brown. The band treatments of the songs have snap and drive but they also playfully tease out the richness of each Richard Rodgers composition. Many of the charts bear the swinging instrumental complexity of Nelson Riddle's arrangements of the time. For example, dig the baritone sax and bass clarinet interacting with the piccolos on Honey Bun, the opening track. The arranging credit on that tune goes to a "J. Hiff," whose identity remains unknown to me. The CD is available here, doubled with The Les Brown Story.

Jazz Impressions of Pal Joey—Kenny Drew (1957). In October 1957, the Kenny Drew trio consisted of Wilbur Ware on bass and Philly Joe Jones on drums. Recorded for Riverside, this almost-forgotten album was a shrewd attempt by producer Orrin Keepnews to marry a pure jazz trio to a hip soundtrack, and the result works beautifully. Interestingly, the album was recorded the same month the film was released. Much of the music from the film had been around since Pal Joey was first staged on Broadway in 1940 and then revived in 1952. With Frank Sinatra, Rita Hayworth and Kim Novak in leading roles for the film adaptation, the album was assured a commercial piggyback ride. Interestingly, for the film, only eight of the original Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart songs remained, with four added from their other shows—I Didn't Know What Time It Was, There's a Small Hotel, Lady Is a Tramp and My Funny Valentine. This album is available as a CD, either as an import here or a reissue here.

Letters: Shaw, Torme and Golson

Over the past couple of days I received several emails from readers in the U.S. and abroad bearing additional information about recent posts. Rather than wait until Sunday, when I normally post the week's bits and pieces, here are the letters now, while the writers' insights are still fresh:

Artie Shaw and Mel Torme. James Wardrop from Pennsylvania offers additional CD sources for the Artie Shaw-Mel Torme-Sonny Burke sessions that I wrote about on Tuesday (May 6, 2008). Jim also passes along a great tip on a Count Basie CD:

"For what it's worth, there were two CDs of Shaw and Torme material on Musicraft issued in 1987 and 1988. The combination of the two,  orchestra and vocal group, is called Artie Shaw & his Orchestra: For You, For Me, For Evermore (MVSCD-50). The other, which features just the Sonny Burke-led material, is Mel Torme and the Mel-Tones: A Foggy Day (MVSCD-54). 

Amazon does not seem to have either, and I don't know if the French Classics series has covered the Shaw numbers, as of yet. Maybe the CDs are available from other sources. It is indeed very hip stuff!

In addition, since you alerted your readers some months ago to the terrific Jimmie Lunceford anthology double CD package, I thought you should be aware of this: The same company has out a wonderful Count Basie: Combos anthology, covering everything from 1936 until 1956. It's the same style of packaging and can be had here from Amazon for $13 bucks—under $9 from used sellers!

Keep up the good work. As a musician-friend of mine remarked the other day, 'reading JazzWax can be dangerous, financially!' "

More Torme, Hearty Shaw. Hans C. Doerrscheidt from Germany spotted another CD package of the Artie Shaw-Mel Torme material, this one in Australia. It features much of the Musicraft material:

"I just found your site via David Miller's 'Swinging Down the Lane' forum and noted your blog entry about the Shaw/Torme Musicraft sessions. These are some of my favorite Shaw recordings!

In addition to the releases you mention, there's also a complete one from Australia, including the Pied Piper album as bonus tracks. Go here. Unfortunately I never got around to ordering the set (I have the two original Musicraft CDs). But I have a feeling it might sound pretty good, remastering-wise. (Listen to the before-after section on that site...)

One little thing: While I don't want to put down Sonny Burke's creative output in any way, Shaw researcher Vladimir Simosko insists that actually Artie Shaw did the arrangements of these tunes, and Burke subsequently wrote the orchestration. This was a practice employed for most of Shaw's ensembles, e.g. Shaw sketched all the arrangements for his 1938-39 band and then had guys like Jerry