Organ Jazz, Soul Jazz, And The Black Jazz Record Label

Jimmy Smith, the king of the B-3 Hammond Organ

In 1934, a Chicago clockmaker and inventor named Lauren Hammond filed a patent for "an electrical instrument" that "generated sound by creating an electric current from rotating metal tone wheels near an electromagnetic pickup."

The Hammond Organ was a marvel of 1930s technology, requiring incredibly precise machine work, cutting-edge electronic design, and thousands of man hours to build.  A look at this promotional video will leave you wondering how in the world the thing ever worked.

But clearly it did. Hammond's first commercial organ was called the Model A, and sold for $1993.  The Hammond Company marketed its new instrument to churches and theaters as an economical alternative to a traditional pipe organ, which cost tens of thousands of dollars and took months to build and install.  

However, it wasn't long before dance halls and night clubs figured out that a Hammond Organ with a rhythm section could provide the same room-filling, dynamic sound as a full-blown big band orchestra.  And when Hammond introduced the iconic B-3 organ in 1954, he set in motion a sound revolution that would contribute directly to the creation of several new musical genres, including soul jazz, funk, and soul.

The first true break-out star on the Hammond Organ was Wild Bill Davis, who became famous in the late 1940s as the pianist for the Tympany Five, Louis Jordan's backing band.  Davis left Jordan in 1950 to strike out on his own as a jazz organist.  He formed the Bill Davis Trio in 1951, and the 78 rpm sides he cut for Okeh Records that same year (left) are considered to be the first appearance on disc of a jazz organ trio.

However, Bill Davis is perhaps even more important historically for his influence on the next generation of organ players, especially the undisputed king of the Hammond B-3, Jimmy Smith.  The story goes that after the struggling jazz pianist Smith saw the Bill Davis Trio at a club in Atlantic City in 1953, he was so mesmerized by the sound that he immediately decided to switch instruments and become an organist.  [For more info on Smith, see my earlier post.]  Smith's late 1950s bebop sides on Blue Note and his top-selling soul jazz LPs on Verve in the 1960s cemented the place of the organ in jazz.  Smith's impact on the organ was as profound as that of Charlie Christian on the electric guitar or Charlie Parker on the saxophone.

A legion of younger players were influenced and inspired by Smith, and in the 1960s and 70s they created a golden age of soul jazz, a variation of hard bop that incorporated elements of blues, gospel, and R&B.

I mention all this because lately I've been listening to a ton of terrific soul jazz by Jimmy Smith disciples, including organists Charles Earland, Richard “Groove” Holmes, Jack McDuff, Jimmy McGriff, Don Patterson, "Big" John Patton, Sonny Phillips, Freddie Roach, Shirley Scott, Johnny “Hammond” Smith, Lonnie Smith, Carl Wilson, and Reuben Wilson.  [I hasten to add that soul jazz was certainly not limited to the organ.  Lots of jazz musicians in the 60s embraced the bluesy, earthy style of soul jazz, including Stanley Turrentine, Cannonball Adderley, Gene Ammons, Grant Green, Lee Morgan, Horace Silver, and Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis.  But, as it happens, of late I've been focusing my listening on a lot of ridiculously infectious organ-based soul jazz.]

Despite the evident popularity of soul jazz (Jimmy Smith was the top-selling jazz artist of the 1960s), many critics and mainstream jazz musicians didn't consider the Hammond Organ to be an "authentic" jazz instrument.  And likewise, soul jazz wasn't accepted as "real" jazz by many lovers of traditional bebop.

Part of the reason soul jazz wasn't more accepted and respected is because it was, at least initially, more popular with Black audiences.  Like "Rhythm and Blues," "soul jazz" was a not very subtle code phrase used to describe music made by and for Blacks.  It didn't help matters that in the 1960s there was a stigma attached to soul jazz (not to mention funk) because of its close association with the growing Black Power and Civil Rights movements.

Regardless of the reason, prominent jazz critics and mainstream jazz publications seldom wrote about or reported on performances by soul jazz artists.  To cite just one example, the massive "Collected Works - A Journal Of Jazz 1954-2000" reprints a lifetime of articles and reviews by the New Yorker's  longtime, influential jazz critic, William Balliett.  In the hundreds of different articles contained in his 872-page book, Balliett never mentions any of the jazz organists I named a few paragraphs above.  And even Jimmy Smith is only included in passing in a list of musicians that performed at the Newport Jazz Festival.  Like Balliett, most other mainstream jazz critics didn't take soul jazz seriously either.

Black Jazz Records

All of which, somewhat indirectly, leads to a little-known pianist named Gene Russell and a small but influential music label called Black Jazz.  Born in 1931, Russell studied with the great Hampton Hawes and went on to work with jazz heavyweights such as Zoot Sims, Dexter Gordon, Miles Davis, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, and Wardell Gray.  [Fun fact: Russell was a cousin of jazz guitarist Charlie Christian.

However, Russell's solo career never really took off.  His first two albums as a leader, 1966's Taking Care Of Business on the Dot Label, and the 1969 release Up And Away (right) on the Decca label, both disappeared without much of a trace. (The cover photo of the later certainly didn't help.)  

Undaunted, Russell decided to start his own label.  He hooked up with the well-known percussionist, arranger, and technical whiz, Dick Schory, who, in addition to playing in the Chicago Symphony and recording numerous LPs with his "Percussion Pops Orchestra," was also instrumental in the development of Quadraphonic sound technology and RCA's Dynagroove vinyl formulation. 

In 1969, Schory founded his own music label, Ovation Records.  It began with a focus on country and western, but later branched out to include such artists as Count Basie, Joe Morello, Paul Horn, and Willie Dixon.  [Over its 14-year history, Ovation released more than 300 records.]  Although I haven't been able to discover the connection between Schory and Russell, not long after forming Ovation, Schory agreed to finance and distribute Russell's new Black Jazz label as a quasi-independent subsidiary of Ovation.  Russell was given artistic freedom to sign artists, and to produce and engineer Black Jazz releases.  Because of Schory's technical know-how, Black Jazz records benefited from the most cutting edge sound available.  As just one example, nearly all Black Jazz titles were released in both stereo and Quadraphonic versions.

Based in Oakland, CA, Russell's vision for Black Jazz Records was to promote African-American jazz artists and singers, as well as the Black community writ large.  Perhaps partly as a reaction to the snub of soul jazz by mainstream jazz audiences and critics, Russell positioned the label as an alternative to traditional jazz by embracing the breadth of Black jazz artists, including their political and spiritual elements.

Between 1971-75, Black Jazz released 20 albums.  Even though some Black Jazz titles sold well, original copies are almost impossible to come by and eagerly sought by collectors.  Copies in top condition can fetch hundreds of dollars.  Which is why I didn't own any originals and why I was excited when Real Gone Music in Orange, CA decided a couple of years ago to reissue the entire Black Jazz catalog on vinyl.

To date, I've picked up nine of the remastered titles (including the eight above).  All of them are mastered at Well Made Music in Bristol, VA by Clint Holley or Dave Polster, and are pressed by Gotta Groove Records in Cleveland.  The vinyl is flat and quiet, and the discs come in high-end Gotta Groove branded (MoFi style) poly dust sleeves.  Each release includes a glossy one-page insert with new liner notes and a photo.  It's a nicely produced series with replica labels and jackets.  While I've not heard any original pressings, the reissues sound great.  And, most importantly, the music is terrific, funky, soul jazz.  

Perhaps not surprisingly, the first release on the Black Jazz label was a new album by Gene Russell.  One suspects that the title of the album, New Direction, was also a mission statement for Russell.  The album is a collection of standards, played in a toe-tapping jazz style that recalls the piano trios of Ramsey Lewis.  Note that Russell not only plays piano, but also produced and engineered the album.

Later albums from Black Jazz would include mainstream bebop from Walter Bishop Jr., hard bop from Calvin Keys, modal/soul fusion from Doug Carn, jazz funk from Rudolph Johnson, and Isaac Hayes-inspired soul funk from Cleveland Eaton (a former bassist with Count Basie and Ramsey Lewis.)  Eaton's 1975 release (BJ/20, at left), was the last title released by Black Jazz and one of only a couple that didn't sport the uniform cover design shown in the montage above.

All of the nine titles in my collection are well worth having.  If you're interested in sampling some of the Black Jazz releases, don't mess around.  Real Gone Music's web site already lists several of the reissues as sold out.  However, most should be readily available on the secondary market, at least for the time being.

Enjoy the music!

What Was The First Record You Ever Bought?

My favorite music magazine, the UK's Record Collector, has a monthly feature where they do interviews with famous and not so  famous musicians, asking them a series of 10-15 brief questions.  One question that often pops up is: "What was the first record you bought?"  

The interviewees always seem to remember their first purchase with no difficulty, and invariably name some appropriately cool record by Cliff Richards, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Elvis Costello, Fine Young Cannibals, Nirvana, or the like, depending on their age.  All performers, in other words, that indicate a level of musical sophistication in their younger selves.  Strangely, no one ever admits that they started their musical journey with a hit by Donnie and Marie Osmond, Pat Boone, The Archies, Richard Harris, Britney Spears, or The Spice Girls.  

Reading the latest issue of Record Collector got me thinking about the first record I ever bought, and the answer is:  I have no idea.  The best I can say is that the first record I can remember buying was a 45 rpm single of "The Joker Went Wild," released by Brian Hyland in 1966 (photo above).  The song was in heavy rotation on our local AM station that summer (WBUY - 1440 on your dial).  I tuned in with my portable GE transistor radio that had a nifty ear plug so I could listen at night when I was supposed to be asleep.  I was so taken with the song that I rode my bicycle downtown to Mack's Five and Dime and spent some of my hard-earned paper route money to buy a copy.  

Fifty-seven years later, I still have the 45 in its original Philips company sleeve (top).  It's a lucky thing I held onto it, since nice copies fetch as much as $2.50 on the used market today.  As you can see in the photo, I paid 79 cents, so I could easily triple my money if I sold it.

Even though no music magazine is ever likely to ask, for a long time I worried that having to admit "The Joker Went Wild" was the first record I bought would sound pretty lame.  Brian Hyland had hits with "Gypsy Woman" and "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polkadot Bikini," and was primarily known as a practitioner of "bubblegum" pop -- not the kind of thing a hip, 1960s musical connoisseur like myself wants to be associated with.

Very Cool

It wasn't until many years later, while going through the small collection of 45s that survived from my youth, that I noticed (by reading the label, duh) that "The Joker Went Wild" was arranged and produced by Leon Russell (with Snuff Garrett).  That discovery made my first record purchase seem much less embarrassing, because Leon is the king of cool.  [Now, if Record Collector comes calling, I'd probably fudge my answer by saying something like "My first record was some single produced by Leon Russell."  Mum's the word.]  

Not cool

"The Joker Went Wild" was a top 20 hit for Hyland.  It was written by Bobby Russell (no relation to Leon), who later married the singer/actress Vicki Lawrence, best known for her work on The Carol Burnett Show.  Bobby Russell peaked as a songwriter in 1968 when he had two huge hits: "Little Green Apples," which charted for three different performers and went on to win two Grammys, and "Honey," a million-selling single for singer Bobby Goldsboro (left).  [In 1973, Vicki Lawrence had a hit single with a song written by husband Bobby, called "The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia."]  

The opposite of cool

While we're at it, I have to admit that I also can't remember the first LP I ever bought.  Once again, the best I can say is that the first album I remember buying was Good Times, the 1967 soundtrack to Sonny and Cher's movie of the same name (right).  I still have the album, a mono pressing in VG+ condition which is now worth just about the same $3.99 I paid for it in 1967 (also at Mack's Five and Dime).

I have a fuzzy memory of seeing the movie when it came out.  The plot, such as it is, has Sonny getting involved with a dicey producer who wants to cash in on Sonny and Cher's fame by putting them in a cheesy movie about a singing hillbilly couple.  Sonny and Cher reject the script, so the producer tells Sonny to write his own script.

It's the 60s, baby

The rest of the film consists of three unrelated episodes where Sonny daydreams about different movies they could make, including a western, a Tarzan and Jane style jungle adventure, and a private eye/gangster mashup.  There are connecting bits where Sonny and Cher play themselves, bickering about the movie and meeting with the menacing producer.  Woven into the daydream sequences and the connecting bits are six music videos, which are the songs that also appear on the soundtrack.  The film is every bit as bad as it sounds.  Although, all that aside, the film has lots of great shots of Sonny and Cher wearing groovy 60s fashions.  If you want to chance it, you can watch the whole film here.

As dreadful as the picture is, bear in mind that it was the first feature directed by William Friedkin, who went on to make such classic films as The French Connection (Oscar winner for best director) and The Exorcist (Oscar nominee for best director).  Likewise, Sonny and Cher went on to make such classic albums as um, Sonny & Cher Live, and um, Live Vol. 2 (oh, never mind.)

Sigh

Seeing Good Times at the theater was likely the reason I bought the record.  Well, that and having a serious preteen crush on Cher.  (What, like you didn't?)  Similar to the movie, the soundtrack album has little redeeming value, although it does contain two versions of the hit single "I Got You Babe." Unfortunately, neither of the two versions on the album is the original. 

The first version of "I Got You Babe" opens the album (and plays over the opening credits in the movie).  It is sung by a children's choir in a sort of Muzak-y style with a harp and soaring strings. (OK, ok, but I kid you not, the drumming is sensational.)  A second version of the song closes the album (and plays over the closing credits in the film).  This version is reworked as a wispy ballad with Sonny and Cher trading lines while backed by a Spanish-style guitar and what sounds like a music box.  Nuff said.

The French cover

Neither of the versions on the soundtrack do justice to the original 1965 single, which was a monster hit that topped the charts in the US and internationally.  [Fun fact: In the US, "I Got You Babe" beat out "Help!" by The Beatles at number two, and "I Can't Get No Satisfaction" by The Rolling Stones at number five.]

According to AllMusic critic William Ruhmann, "I Got You Babe" was Sonny Bono's answer to Bob Dylan's 1964 breakup song "It Ain't Me Babe" (written for Dylan's then girlfriend, Suze Rotolo.)  Sonny, who had worked as a songwriter, promoter, and general factotum for Phil Spector, produced "I Got You Babe" and faithfully recreates Spector's famous Wall of Sound.  "I Got You Babe" is a classic 1960s pop ballad, even if, as Ruhmann notes, "Sonny and Cher are not very interesting singers."  

The song is buoyed by a stellar list of session players, including jazz great Barney Kessel on guitar, Tijuana Brass and Baja Marimba alumni Julius Wechter (percussion) and Bud Coleman (guitar), and Wrecking Crew members Don Randi (piano), Lyle Ritz (bass), and Frank Capp (drums).  Ace session men Warren Webb and Morris Crawford add a unique oboe/bassoon accompaniment.  The song was recorded by engineer Stan Ross at his legendary Gold Star Studios in Hollywood.  Even if you don't like the song, there is no denying that the sound is fabulous, with Gold Star's trademark burnished sound.  [Ross was also at the controls at Gold Star a year later, in 1966, when The Beach Boys cut their masterpiece, "Pet Sounds."]

The only other song of note on Good Times is the album reissue of Sonny and Cher's 1966 top 50 single, "It's The Little Things."  Stylistically and sonically it's quite similar to "I Got You Babe" with the same call and response lyrics and another Wall of Sound production.

While there is no accounting for my preteen taste in music (or female pop stars), I hasten to add that among the other 1960s 45s that survived from my youth are disks by the Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Doors, Donovan, Bob Dylan, Procol Harum, and Otis Redding.  And I also had a huge crush on Joni Mitchell.

Enjoy the music!

Treasures From The Vault - Live At The Penthouse In Seattle

Nearly four years ago, I did a roundup of new vinyl releases made from rediscovered recordings of performances by the likes of Thelonious Monk, John Coltrane, Bill Evans, Wes Montgomery, Dexter Gordon, Woody Shaw, and others.  Many of these lost treasures were live recordings made for broadcast on radio and TV in Europe.  Once they were aired, they were filed away in the vaults of TV France or Radio Denmark or wherever, and gathered dust for the next 50 or 60 years.

Of course, this isn't a new phenomenon.  But the financial rewards of marketing deluxe, limited-edition vinyl to high-end collectors has turned the steady trickle of "newly-discovered" releases into a deluge.  More and more producers and independent labels are combing the archives of broadcasters in Europe, Japan, and the U.S., unearthing forgotten performances on a nearly daily basis.  More and more recordings made by jazz club owners or enthusiastic amateur tapers are also turning up.  And, not surprisingly, the major record labels are getting in on the act by going through their vaults to find unused tracks or entire sessions they can market as "never-before-released" recordings.  Overall, this is fantastic news for jazz lovers.  More Bill Evans?  You betcha.  More John Coltrane?  Yes, please.

The biggest problem now is deciding which of the flood of newly-discovered gems is worth buying.  The fact is that some unreleased sessions are unreleased for a reason -- they just aren't very good.  Even great performers can have a bad day.  Other recordings might be great performances that are not well recorded or have other flaws.  While the recordings still might be worth releasing for historical reasons, I'm not likely to ever listen to them.  I find it really pays to read the reviews and listen to samples before buying.

Of course, the "newly discovered" trend isn't limited to jazz.  Recent reissues by the Beatles, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, The Beach Boys, Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, and many, many others include previously unreleased session tracks, alternate takes, and newly-discovered recordings from live shows, sometimes amounting to multiple discs.

Bob Dylan's Bootleg Series Vol. 12 Deluxe Edition (left) from 2015 has six CDs with more than 100 outtakes from the Blonde On Blonde sessions.  It's fascinating stuff, but you have to ask yourself: How often am I going listen to the 17 different takes of "Like A Rolling Stone?"  In my case, maybe once.  Which is why I generally don't buy the multi-disc deluxe sets and just stick with the remastered original material.  And sometimes, I don't even bother with that if I'm happy with my copy of the original release.

On the other hand, a newly-discovered live set that was professionally recorded and captures a major artist in excellent form is almost always worth having.  In that regard, one of the best of the "newly-discovered" series is the collection of recordings being released under the title "Live At The Penthouse."  (Top photo group)

The entrance to the Penthouse in Seattle

The Penthouse was a Seattle jazz club opened in 1962 by Charlie Puzzo in the city's Pioneer Square district.  For the next six years (the club closed in 1968), The Penthouse was one of the hottest jazz venues on the west coast.  Along with such historic spots as The Nighthawk in San Francisco, Shelly's Manne-Hole in Los Angeles, and The Lighthouse in Hermosa Beach, CA, The Penthouse was a "must" stop for touring jazz performers.   

While it's not unusual for jazz clubs to host live recordings (there must be at least a dozen different "Live at the Village Vanguard" releases alone), what sets the Penthouse apart is that the club installed a dedicated line to Seattle radio station KING-FM.  Every Thursday night, KING broadcast a 30-minute live set from the Penthouse.  The shows were hosted by producer and radio personality Jim Wilke.  In the liner notes to the "Live At The Penthouse" series, Wilke describes the setup he used -- four stage microphones fed into a small mixer that he tweaked on the fly while seated at a small table near the club's stage.  The mixer's output provided the live feed to the radio station.  He says that the dedicated phone line to the station was "broadcast quality."  I'm not sure exactly what that means, but the sound of the mono recordings is very good, with punchy bass, good overall balance, and a lively presence which was aided by the sound bouncing off a brick wall behind the bandstand (visible on the cover of The Three Sounds album at top).  Based on the recordings released to date, the Penthouse audiences were amazingly well behaved, as there is almost no background noise other than polite applause.  In all, Wilke hosted more than 200 live shows, all of which survive as "air check" copies of the live feed made on the station's 1/4" Ampex reel-to-reel recorder.

Part of the tape collection from Live At The Penthouse

There is a brief but very well done documentary about the history of The Penthouse, narrated by Charlie Puzzo's son, Charlie Puzzo Jr., and featuring invaluable input from Jim Wilke.  Puzzo Jr. shares the history of the club through family photos,  while Wilke talks about his experience recording the concerts and shows the treasure trove of tapes from the live broadcasts.   

While Wilke is talking, the camera pans the shelves of the Live At The Penthouse tape archive (screen grab above).  The names of the performers on the boxes offer some tantalizing possibilities for upcoming releases, including Bill Evans, Ray Charles, Charlie Byrd, Jimmy Smith, Donald Byrd, Cal Tjader, Jack McDuff, Charles Lloyd, Art Blakey, John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie, and Gerry Mulligan, among many others.  Crikey!  The collection seems to include just about every major jazz artist of the time.  

While highlighting the six (now eight) "Live At The Penthouse" releases made to date, Puzzo Jr. says that they plan to put out one or two new recordings per year going forward.  (At that rate, you can collect the entire set in 100 years or so.  Personally, I hope they speed things up a bit.)  You can check out the film here.  

The first of the "Live At The Penthouse" releases was The Three Sounds Groovin' Hard, put out on the Resonance Records label in 2016 (all cover photos at top).  That was followed by Wynton Kelly Trio, Wes Montgomery Smokin' In Seattle in 2017; Cannonball Adderley – Swingin' In Seattle in 2018; Johnny Griffin, Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis – Ow! in 2019; and then two CD-only releases: 2020's The Jack Wilson Quartet Featuring Roy Ayers - Call Me; and Bola Sete - Samba In Seattle in 2021.

Emerald City Nights volumes one and two, released in 2022.

Which brings us to the most recent releases in the series, a pair of double albums featuring pianist Ahmad Jamal called Emerald City Nights (above).  Together, the albums comprise a four-disc compilation taken from different performances during a period of slightly more than three years.  The first release is subtitled Live At The Penthouse 1963-64, while the second is Live At The Penthouse 1965-66.  Both albums are produced by Zev Feldman and are the first two releases on his brand new (and aptly named) Jazz Detective label.  

[Brief aside: Feldman is the most active and most successful of the many producers working to uncover and release forgotten jazz performances.  He has been involved with all the Live At The Penthouse releases to date, and seems to have had a hand in nearly every significant discovery of a long-lost or unknown jazz recording in the past decade.  He has produced dozens of releases for a variety of labels, including Resonance Records, Elemental Records, Reel To Real, Tompkins Square, Sam Records, Real Gone Music, Verve, and Blue Note Records.]

Back to Ahmad Jamal.  According to Wilke, he recorded "more than a dozen" live dates by Jamal's trio at The Penthouse.  The Emerald City Nights discs include tracks from seven different sets, played by four different trio line-ups (either Jamil Nasser or Richard Evans on bass, and either Chuck Lampkin, Vernel Fournier, or Frank Grant on drums).  As with the earlier releases in the series, the mono sound is clear, balanced, and conveys the excitement and feel of a great live space.  

The two Jamal releases were mastered by Bernie Grundman from "audio transferred from the original tape reels," and pressed by Optimal in Germany.  Both sets (and indeed all the Live At The Penthouse releases) are highly recommended.  The packaging is first-rate:  The vinyl is 180 grams and dead quiet, and each release includes a beautiful, glossy booklet containing photos, extensive liner notes, and insightful interviews.  The LP jackets have a hand-written, limited-edition serial number on the back.

Indeed, the only real drawback to the Live At The Penthouse series is that they are all limited-edition pressings of 1,000 to 5,000 copies.  As a result, most of them are sold out and difficult to come by.  The  Ahmad Jamal releases came out on November 25, 2022 as part of Record Store Day's Black Friday event.  By the time I noticed their release, about two weeks later, both volumes were already sold out.  Luckily, I was able to snag new copies from a seller on Discogs with only a slight markup.  Now, after only a couple more weeks, mint copies are going for a minimum of $50 each.  And that will probably seem like a bargain in a couple of years, as near mint copies of Wes Montgomery's 2017 Smokin' At The Penthouse are selling for $150, if you can find one.

[Brief rant:  I understand the appeal of limited-edition LP pressings.  Labels don't always know how well an album is going to sell, and no one wants to have thousands of unsold copies.  More importantly, a limited-edition pressing creates a sense of urgency and a fear of missing out which encourages collectors and music lovers to rush out and buy a copy before they are all gone.  Fair enough as a marketing ploy, but what a limited-edition release mostly does is drive up the price.  Rapacious resellers snap up multiple copies and immediately advertise them for sale at marked-up prices.  Of course, neither the label, nor the artist, nor the record store owner sees any of that extra profit.  So, note to artists and labels: By all means release a limited, numbered edition of your LP on splatter vinyl.  But if it sells out in about 10 minutes, then for Pete's sake press another batch (a plain black, non-numbered edition), and sell more albums!  It's a win win for you and your fans, and it helps screw over the resellers.  Which actually makes it a win win win.  End of rant.] 

If you've been snoozing on the Live At The Penthouse series, I urge you get busy and track down copies of the two recent releases by Ahmad Jamal while they're still relatively easy to find.  With a little luck, you might also score some of the previous releases in the series at prices that don't break the bank.  (Of course, you could always get the CDs, but only if things are utterly hopeless.  And for heaven's sake don't tell anyone.)

As I was researching this piece, I started to wonder if some of the recordings in the Penthouse archive weren't already available, at least in bootleg form.  Surely someone in Seattle had taped the radio shows off the air and posted the music somewhere?  After nosing around the internet, the only other Penthouse live broadcast I could find is a Bill Evans trio set from May 12, 1966.  It is available as a bootleg CD on the EU-based Jazz Do It label, and can also be heard on YouTube here.  Evans is in good form on the six-song set which includes "How My Heart Sings," "Who Can I Turn To" and "Round Midnight."  He is accompanied by Eddie Gomez on bass and Jack Hunt on drums.  It would make a perfect follow-up to the Jamal trio recordings (hint, hint).

Astute readers may be wondering about the much-ballyhooed 2021 release of a "newly discovered" live version of John Coltrane's A Love Supreme recorded at the Penthouse in October, 1965.  The set came out on the Impulse! label and is titled John Coltrane - A Love Supreme: Live In Seattle.  That set was indeed recorded at the Penthouse -- but not by KING-FM.  It was captured on a reel-to-reel deck by Coltrane's good friend and musician, Joe Brazil.  [Though long-rumored to exist, the tape was lost for more than 50 years until it turned up in Brazil's effects following his death in 2008.]  In addition, there is another Impulse! release which was recorded during Coltrane's same ten-day residency at the Penthouse in 1965, a double album called Live in Seattle which was released in 1971.  While both of these sets may also exist in the Live At The Penthouse collection, the Impulse! albums were separate recordings.

Enjoy the music!

A Portrait Of Shorty

Last week I was trolling for LPs in one of my favorite antique malls and came across a superb copy of Portrait Of Shorty (left), the 1958 release by Shorty Rogers And His Giants on the RCA label.  Except for one light paper scuff, the vinyl appears unplayed.  And except for a small rub at the bottom, the jacket looks like it just came out of the shrink wrap.  It's a solid NM/EX copy.

I'm always amazed to find albums that are almost as old as I am  in nearly new condition.  After I bought it and brought it home, I couldn't help but wonder where the album has been for the last 64 years.  Did someone buy it in 1958, play it once (or not at all), and then put it in the closet where it sat until their grandkids found it while cleaning out the house?  A possible clue is that the back of the album is stamped "Special Issue," a marking I've never seen before, but which likely indicates that it was a promotional pressing, maybe sent out to a music critic, newspaper, or other publication in the hopes of generating a favorable review or a mention in a roundup of new releases.  Alas, we'll never know.  

Although Portrait Of Shorty came out the same year (1958) that the first commercial stereo LPs were released in the U.S., there is no stereo version of this disc.  Which is no matter, because Shorty's big-band arrangements sound terrific in glorious mono.  The album appears on RCA's "white dog" label (right) and is a deep-groove pressing from RCA's plant in Rockaway, NJ.  The jacket and labels promote RCA's "New Orthophonic" High Fidelity sound.  [In case you're wondering, the term Orthophonic was first used in 1925 to indicate a record that was no longer recorded acoustically (i.e. by yelling into an inverted  megaphone), but by using electronic amplifiers and microphones.  RCA's "New" Orthophonic sound was the name for RCA's version of the RIAA curve, a process used to decrease the bass while cutting the lacquer in order to keep the groove size more uniform (and keep the stylus from jumping off the record.)  The bass was/is added back by the phono preamp during playback.]  But never mind all of that: The sound is fabulous. 

Shorty Rogers

Rogers' 18-piece big band on Portrait Of Shorty includes a Who's Who of West Coast jazz all-stars, including Herb Geller, Bill Holman, Pepper Adams, Frank Rosolino, Al Porcino, Bob Enevoldsen, Conte Candoli, Monte Budwig and Richie Kamuca.  The liner notes provide a handy list of the soloists on each track so you can follow along while listening.

The songs and arrangements on Portrait Of Shorty are an excellent representation of the sophistication and imagination of Rogers' arranging and composing skills.  The album also neatly combines both major facets of Rogers' musical career - his formative early years in some of the best big bands in the country, and the transition to small group, improvisational jazz that was taking place in the mid to late 1950s.  While Portrait is very much a swinging big band album, Rogers and most of the other musicians get plenty of room to stretch out and solo in front of a wall of sound.

Shorty's 1st release (1952)

Shorty Rogers was born Milton Rajonsky in Great Barrington, Massachusetts in 1924.  A precocious talent on trumpet, by the early 1940s he was already performing professionally with groups led by Will Bradley and Red Norvo.  After a stint in the Army, Rogers was hired by Woody Herman and in 1945 moved to California to become part of the legendary band leader's "Thundering Herd."  The various iterations of the "Herd" made up some of the finest ensembles of jazz musicians ever assembled, and helped launch the careers of such notable musicians as Stan Getz, Zoot Sims, Serge Chaloff, Flip Phillips, Buddy Rich, Pete Candoli, Red Norvo, Jimmy Rowles, Gene Ammons, Oscar Pettiford, Terry Gibbs, Shelly Manne, and of course, Shorty Rogers.  In addition, the Herd was the crucible of what would later become the West Coast jazz movement. 

Playing and arranging for Herman, it wasn't long before Rogers began to attract more attention in the jazz world.  Not surprisingly, in 1950 rival band leader Stan Kenton hired Rogers away from Herman.  During the two years that Rogers was with Kenton, his compositions and arrangements further cemented his reputation as one of the jazz world's brightest young stars.  In 1952, Rogers left Kenton and put together his first group -- Shorty Rogers And His Giants -- a band that included Art Pepper, Shelley Manne, Jimmy Giuffre, and Hampton Hawes.  They recorded their first release (a 10" LP), Modern Sounds (above), for Capitol that same year.  Rogers' tight and innovative arrangements on this recording are considered by many to be as important musically as Gil Evans' arrangements for Miles Davis' Birth of the Cool.  

For the next decade, Rogers continued to perform, arrange, and release new albums, becoming one of the seminal figures in the West Coast jazz movement.  However, in the early 1960s, as jazz music was being swamped by the tidal wave of rock 'n' roll, Rogers made the prudent decision to stop performing and devote himself to the more financially secure work of writing and arranging music for television and motion pictures.  The 1962 album, Jazz Waltz (right), was his last recording with the Giants for the next 16 years.

During the 1970s and 80s, Rogers became a prolific contributor to television and to a lesser extent films.  Among the series he scored or wrote incidental music for were "The Partridge Family," "The Mod Squad," "The Rookies," "Starsky and Hutch," and "The Love Boat." He also composed and conducted the music for a number of innovative cartoons featuring the work of Dr. Seuss and Stan Freberg.

In the 1980s, Rogers returned to performing, eventually forming a combo with West Coast legend Bud Shank on alto sax and releasing a number of new albums. Sadly, Rogers was diagnosed with melanoma in the early 1990s and died in 1994.  [NB: Much of the bio info above was cribbed from Wikipedia and  Spaceagepop.com, because, how in the world would I remember all this stuff?]

I mention all this because not too long ago I was watching some old episodes of "Peter Gunn" on Amazon Prime.  "Peter Gunn" is one of the hippest TV shows of all time.  It ran for three seasons on NBC (1958-1960) and starred Craig Stevens as the sophisticated, unflappable, and impeccably-dressed private eye, Peter Gunn.

Lola Wants You (1957) and Dreamsville (1959)

The show was one of the first TV programs to prominently feature jazz music, not only in the dynamite theme song by Henry Mancini, but as a motif.  When he isn't chasing bad guys, our hero Peter Gunn hangs out in an LA jazz club called Mother's, where his girlfriend Edie Hart (played by actress Lola Albright) is the singer.  The club appears in nearly every episode, as does Edie, who gets to sing a song in about half the episodes.  Before "Peter Gunn," Lola Albright was an aspiring actress and singer who had appeared in several TV shows and movies, and who had put out an album in 1957 called Lola Wants You (above).  Following the success of the first season of "Peter Gunn," Albright released a second album in 1959 called Dreamsville (above) which was arranged and conducted by Henry Mancini, who scored all the music for "Peter Gunn."  [In 2017, the reissue label Fresh Sounds put out a two-fer CD with the Google-search friendly title of The Jazz Singer On The "Peter Gunn" TV Series that contains both albums.]

Lola Albright at left, Shorty Rogers in the middle

The neat thing about the jazz sequencies in "Peter Gunn" is that Edie's on-screen backup bands feature a rotating cast of top West Coast jazzmen, including our very own Shorty Rogers.  Rogers appears in an episode called "The Frog," which was the fifth episode of the first season.  

After the opening sequence, when our hero Peter Gunn gets roughed up and shoots a bad guy, he turns up at Mother's (with not a hair out of place) where Edie is rehearsing the classic song "How High The Moon," which includes a tasty flugelhorn solo by Rogers [watch here].  

In his 1989 biography "Did They Mention The Music?", Henry Mancini talks about how as a struggling young composer/arranger he got his first big break scoring the music for "Peter Gunn."  Mancini says that he was coming out of the barber shop on the lot of Universal Studios one day when he ran into the producer Blake Edwards.  The two knew each other from some previous work together, and after a few minutes of chit chat, Edwards asked Mancini if he would be interested in working on a new series he was producing, called "Peter Gunn."  Mancini eagerly accepted even though he initially had the impression that "Peter Gunn" was a Western.  Edwards told Mancini to meet with Lola Albright to work out an arrangement for a song that Albright would sing in the show.  Mancini and Albright got on well together, and Edwards was pleased with the arrangement, so he hired Mancini and asked him to compose a theme song for the show.  The result is the iconic music for "Peter Gunn," which, even if you think you don't know it, you do.  [Listen here.]  

Mancini goes on to say that when the producers decided to release a soundtrack album for "Peter Gunn," he immediately tried to get the much more well-known and experienced Shorty Rogers to arrange and play the music.  Rogers, however, urged Mancini to record it himself since it was his music. 

Though RCA wasn't thrilled about releasing an album by the relatively unknown Mancini, they reluctantly agreed.  The album (right), which was released in 1959, was an overnight sensation and eventually sold more than a million copies, spending two years on the Billboard charts and launching Mancini's recording career.  It also won him the first two of his 20 Grammy awards.  [Not to mention four Oscars and a Golden Globe].  

One last note.  In 1959, a year after the successful debut of "Peter Gunn," NBC thought it would be a good idea to launch yet another jazz-themed detective show, this one called "Johnny Staccato."  It stars John Cassavetes as a jazz pianist who's a private detective on the side.  He works out of a club called Waldo's (this time in Greenwich Village).  But the similarities don't end there.  "Staccato" features a driving theme song that calls to mind "Peter Gunn" (though written not by Mancini but the great film composer Elmer Bernstein).  In addition, Staccato's band features another stellar group of West Coast jazzmen.  The first episode actually opens with a nice easy jam played by Pete Candoli on trumpet, Barney Kessel on guitar, Shelly Manne on drums, Red Mitchell on bass, Red Norvo on vibes, and Cassavetes (actually Johnny Williams) on piano [watch here].  Unfortunately, "Johnny Staccato" only ran for one season.  Most, if not all of the episodes are available on YouTube.  It's don't miss TV.

Enjoy the music!

A Brief Classical Interlude

While it has become nearly impossible to find nice, clean copies of jazz and rock albums at thrift stores or in the dollar bins at used record stores, I regularly come across pristine copies of classical LPs selling for next to nothing.  Even though I don't listen to a lot of classical music these days, I often will pick up a few titles just because it's hard to resist like-new pressings on venerable labels like Deutsche Grammophon, Angel, Mercury Living Presence, ECM, or Harmonia Mundi. 

One of my recent thrift shop finds

In a recent trip to drop off some donations at our local thrift store, I stopped (as I always do) to see what LPs they had.  I rarely find anything interesting; the selection is nearly always a pile of scratched up 1960s soundtracks, along with the collected works of Barbra Streisand and Herb Alpert's Tijuana Brass.  However, this time there was a pretty large cache of like-new classical titles.  Since they were only fifty cents apiece, I didn't really look too closely at the titles, but just bought the whole bunch, about 25 LPs.  

I spend about 85% of my listening time playing jazz records.  The other 15% of the time I play classic rock, vocals, and R&B, with some international music and a few soundtracks thrown in.  Many years ago, I used to listen frequently to classical music.  I have a particular fondness for Vivaldi, and have dozens of LPs of his work, including a bunch of obscure Eastern Bloc releases on the Hungaroton, Supraphon, and Electrocord labels that I picked up when we were working at the U.S. Embassy in Romania back in the 1980s. 

Though I was never a serious classical music collector, I enjoyed learning more about the major composers and their music.  Over the years, however, I pretty much stopped listening to classical music and eventually moved the 500 or so classical LPs in my collection to overflow shelves in the garage to make room for more jazz.

When I got my recent thrift shop haul home, I couldn't resist cleaning a few and having a listen.  I hadn't bothered checking all the albums at the store, but I'm happy to report that nearly all of them are in like-new condition, with clean vinyl, original poly-lined inner sleeves, and nice sharp jackets.  As a bonus, I discovered that seven of the titles are works by Vivaldi.  I assumed that the LPs all came from the same collector, and my hunch was confirmed when I saw that nearly all of the jackets had the same small sticker on the front that says "Sound Guard," (above) together with a date from 1982.  Hmmm.

Sound Guard's space-age formula

According to a vintage ad for Sound Guard that I found online, the formula behind the product was originally developed by Ball Bros. of Denver as a space-age (literally) lubricant for use on NASA satellites.  Sound Guard was a consumer off-shoot which was said to put a microscopic coating on vinyl records to protect the surface from wear and reduce static buildup.  Though Sound Guard is now defunct, other similar products that claim to protect the vinyl surface are still around, including LAST and Gruv-Glide.  I have used both LAST and Gruv-Glide from time to time, but don't have strong feelings about them.  As far as I can hear, they don't degrade the sound, but whether or not they protect the record or decrease wear, I couldn't say.

Another common thread with the classical albums I found was that nearly all of the titles are recordings of small ensembles, including such things as Mozart's Clarinet Quintet, Rossini's String Sonatas, Vivaldi's Bassoon Concerti, String Concerti by Telemann, Schumann's Works For Cello And Piano, and Quartets by Mendelssohn.  Nary a symphony in the bunch, which is fine with me as I tend to prefer smaller ensembles as well.  Finally, about half the titles were released on the Musical Heritage Society label.

MHS's familiar green and silver label

The Musical Heritage Society (MHS) was a subscription record club founded in 1962 in New York.  I was a member of the club for several years in the 1970s.  Like the major-label record clubs, they would mail out a notice promoting the new monthly release, and if you didn't want the title you had to send back a post card telling them not to send it.  I suspect that they made most of their money from people who forgot to send in the card.  The difference between MHS and the major label record clubs like RCA or Columbia, was that MHS specialized in classical music (although they did release a few jazz titles in later years).  

A major draw for MHS releases was that they were popularly priced.  As I recall, they were a dollar or two less than major-label classical titles.  MHS was able to keep costs down because they didn't record their own content (at least initially).  They licensed recordings from small European classical labels -- particularly Erato of France.  Erato (and other similar classical labels) kept their costs down by recording works for smaller ensembles (much cheaper than hiring an entire orchestra), including first-rate groups such as the Chamber Orchestra of Lausanne, I Solisti Veneti, the Pro Arte Chamber Orchestra of Munich, the Gulbenkian Orchestra of Lisbon, and the London Mozart Players.  

Despite the budget price, MHS releases were well made with quality masters from studios such as Masterdisk, and plating and pressing by high-end plants such as Europadisk.  At least to my ears, the sound quality is excellent, with flat, quiet surfaces, heavy-weight vinyl, and nice touches such as poly-lined dust sleeves.  The covers were simple -- generally black text on white cardboard stock with a period engraving or drawing as cover art (right).

Even though the European ensembles are not always household names, the performances are first-rate.  For example, one of my Vivaldi finds (Bassoon Concerti, right) was performed by the London Mozart Players (LMP).  I confess that I had never heard of the London Mozart Players.  But after a bit of research, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that they have been around for more than 70 years.  The ensemble was founded in 1949 by director Harry Blech, and their debut performance that same year featured a young violinist named Neville Marriner (Sir Neville, CBE, CH to his friends).  The London Mozart Players are extremely active in musical education and outreach, and maintain a full calendar of UK and international concerts.

Regardless of the genre of the music, I always enjoy reading the liner notes and learning more about the composer or the musicians on a particularly recording.  One of the first LPs I listened to from my classical haul was a UK Decca release of Rossini's String Sonatas (top photo).  It was originally recorded in 1967 and performed by the celebrated Academy of St-Martin-in-the-Fields, conducted by Neville Marriner -- the same young whippersnapper, who, 18 years earlier, played violin in the London Mozart Players' debut concert.  Rossini is, of course, primarily known as a composer of operas, including The Barber of Seville and William Tell.  Since I'm not a big opera fan, I really didn't know much about his work.  So I was fascinated to read in the liner notes that Rossini composed the sonatas on the album in 1804, when he was twelve years old.  Yikes.

Enjoy the music!