The Penguin Jazz Guide (23 page)

EDDIE SOUTH

Born 27 November 1904, Louisiana, Missouri; died 25 April 1962, Chicago, Illinois

Violin

Eddie South 1937–1941

Classics 737

South; Charlie Shavers (t); Buster Bailey (cl); Russell Procope (as); David Martin, Stanley Facey (p); Stéphane Grappelli (vn); Django Reinhardt, Isadore Langlois, Eddie Gibbs, Eugene Fields (g); Paul Cordonnier, Doles Dickens, Ernest ‘Bass’ Hill (b); Specs Powell, Tommy Benford (d); Ginny Sims (v). November 1937–March 1941.

Violinist Stéphane Grappelli said (1981):
‘There is no doubt that Eddie South could have been a great classical player, if it were not for the colour of his skin. His technique was amazing and he could play anything.’

South wasn’t simply one of the most accomplished of jazz violinists; he might have been one of the best-schooled of all jazz musicians of his time, given a thorough classical grounding that, unusually, blossomed into a hot rather than a cool improviser’s stance. If his reputation rests on his Paris recordings of 1937, there are some interesting footnotes to an unfulfilled career in the other tracks listed here.

South’s slightly later Chicago and New York sessions are well played if comparatively lightweight – on songs such as ‘Nagasaki’ or ‘Marcheta’ he sounds almost like a vaudevillian – but the three sessions with Grappelli and Reinhardt are fascinating, the guitarist driven into his best form, the violinist playing his finest solos on ‘Sweet Georgia Brown’ and ‘Eddie’s Blues’, and the date culminating in the extraordinary improvisation on Bach’s D Minor Concerto for two violins by South, Grappelli and Reinhardt together. A further 1938 session in Hilversum has some more strong playing by South’s regular quintet, but his final titles from 1940–41 belabour the material, which seems designed to cast South as a romantic black gypsy and sends him back to vaudeville. He seldom recorded again, despite a fair amount of broadcasting, and must be accounted as a talent out of his time.

LIONEL HAMPTON
^&

Born 20 April 1909, Louisville, Kentucky; died 31 August 2002, New York City

Vibraphone, drums

Lionel Hampton 1937–1938

Classics 524

Hampton; Ziggy Elman, Cootie Williams, Jonah Jones (t); Lawrence Brown (tb); Vido Musso (cl, ts); Mezz Mezzrow, Eddie Barefield (cl); Johnny Hodges, Hymie Schertzer, George Koenig (as); Arthur Rollini (ts); Edgar Sampson (bs); Jess Stacy, Clyde Hart (p); Bobby Bennett, Allan Reuss (g); Harry Goodman, John Kirby, Mack Walker, Johnny Miller, Billy Taylor (b); Gene Krupa, Cozy Cole, Sonny Greer (d). February 1937–January 1938.

Lionel Hampton said (1990):
‘Louis [Armstrong] asked me if I’d tried out on a vibraphone. I picked up the mallets and picked out his solo on “Cornet Chop Suey”. That was how we came to do “Memories Of You”.’

Hampton was the first player to use vibes as a jazz instrument as opposed to a novelty. He learned drums in a Chicago boys’ band, and went on to work with Les Hit and backing Louis Armstrong before switching to vibes and leading his own group in LA, where Benny Goodman recruited him and put him in his controversial mixed-race group. Hamp recorded for RCA Victor in New York in the later ’30s, and ran his own big band from 1941, dominated by a show-stopping style that anticipated R&B and let the band survive the lean rock’n’roll years. In the ’80s and ’90s he was also a major figure in education, publishing and housing programmes.

‘Memories Of You’ was a success and Hampton quickly evolved a fleet, two-mallet style for the vibes that emphasized their percussive character, but also the possibility of rich, ringing harmony. He had the advantage of being a naturally outgoing and dramatic character, which helped his presentation. His Victor sessions of the ’30s offer a glimpse of many of the finest big-band players of the day away from usual chores: Hampton cherrypicked whichever band was in town at the time of the session, and although most of the tracks were hastily organized, the music is consistently entertaining. If one has a reservation, it’s that if you don’t enjoy what Hampton himself does, these discs won’t live up to their reputation, since he dominates. Hampton cut a total of 23 sessions between 1936 and 1941. The personnel varies substantially from date to date: some are like small-band sessions drawn from the Ellington or Goodman or Basie orchestras; others – such as the extraordinary 1939 date with Gillespie, Carter, Berry, Webster and Hawkins – are genuine all-star jams. Carter wrote the charts for one session, but mostly Hampton used head arrangements or sketchy frameworks. The bonding agent is his own enthusiasm: whether playing vibes – and incidentally establishing the dominant style on the instrument with his abrasive accents, percussive intensity and quickfire alternation of long and short lines – or piano or drums, or taking an amusing, Armstrong-influenced vocal, Hamp makes everything swing.

& See also
Salle Pleyel 1971
(1971; p. 384)

CLAUDE HOPKINS

Born 24 August 1903, Alexandria, Virginia; died 19 February 1984, New York City

Piano

Claude Hopkins 1932–1934

Classics 699

Hopkins; Ovie Alston (t, v); Albert Snaer, Sylvester Lewis (t); Fred Norman (tb, v); Fernando Arbello, Henry Wells (tb); Edmond Hall (cl, as, bs); Gene Johnson (as); Bobby Sands (ts); Walter Jones (bj, g); Henry Turner (b); Pete Jacobs (d); Orlando Roberson (v). May 1932–December 1934.

Claude Hopkins said (1977):
‘It was my band, so I always figured I should get as much playing time out of it as I could, instead of just standing there shaking a baton.’

Hopkins was a skilful pianist and liked to get a lot of solos with his band; the demands of arranging around him may have told against the ambitions of the group. It certainly never worked as well as the Earl Hines orchestra, and though Hopkins had fewer imposing soloists – brief stays by Smith and Dickenson in 1937 were wasted – the group’s ensemble sound lacked character and the arrangements were often second rate. Classics tell the story in decent if unexceptional transfers. Some of the music on this disc promises more than
it delivers: ‘Mad Moments’, ‘Shake Your Ashes’, ‘Hopkins Scream’ and especially Jimmy Mundy’s arrangement of ‘Mush Mouth’ are exciting and surprising pieces, and ‘I Would Do Most Anything For You’ became the band’s signature theme. Because of Hopkins’s stride-tinged solos, there’s less emphasis on tight ensemble playing than with some comparable bands, but the sections sound well-drilled and though there are no other striking soloists – Ed Hall was too self-effacing to demand a spot – the impression is of good musicianship. Hopkins later took a staff arranging job for CBS and ran small groups, but his main impact was as short as it was striking.

DUKE ELLINGTON
^&

Born Edward Kennedy Ellington, 29 April 1899, Washington DC; died 24 May 1974, New York City

Piano

Duke Ellington 1937–1938

Classics 675 / 687 / 700 / 717 / 726

Ellington; Charlie Allen, Freddy Jenkins, Harold ‘Shorty’ Baker, Wallace Jones, Cootie Williams (t); Rex Stewart (c); Joe ‘Tricky Sam’ Nanton, Lawrence Brow, Sandy Williams (tb); Juan Tizol (vtb); Johnny Hodges (cl, ss, as); Harry Carney (cl, as, bs); Pete Clarke, Otto Hardwick (as); Barney Bigard (cl, ts); Ben Webster (ts); Bernard Addison, Fred Guy, Brick Fleagle (g); Hayes Alvis, Billy Taylor (b); Fred Avendorf, Sonny Greer, Chick Webb, Jack Maisel (d); Ivie Anderson, Scat Powell, Mary McHugh, Jerry Kruger (v). March 1937–December 1938.

Composer and music historian Gunther Schuller said (1981):
‘At this period, only Picasso had the same ability to produce not just good music (or painting), but great art on an almost industrial scale.’

Ellington’s mid- and late-’30s output is a subtle blend of commerce and art and even the most trifling pieces usually have something to commend them. Slightly before the period covered here, there was the four-part original recording of ‘Reminiscing In Tempo’, a dedication to Ellington’s mother that was one of the first of his extended works; but it also has the joyful ‘Truckin’’ and two early ‘concerto’ pieces in ‘Clarinet Lament’ for Bigard and ‘Echoes Of Harlem’ for Cootie Williams.

In contrast to what had gone before, 1937 began a little thinly as far as full-band tracks are concerned, though two versions of ‘Azure’ shouldn’t be missed. The stronger material came later in the year, which peaks on the still remarkable first recording of ‘Diminuendo And Crescendo In Blue’ but also has the tremendous ‘Harmony In Harlem’, ‘Chatterbox’ and ‘Jubilesta’, as well as several of the small-group sessions. The 1938 output includes a lot of distinctive Ellingtonia that has been obscured by some of his obvious hits: ‘Braggin’ In Brass’, ‘The Gal From Joe’s’, the new version of ‘Black And Tan Fantasy’, superbly played by the band which transforms itself from dance orchestra to complex jazz ensemble – and back again. Though seldom commented on, the rhythm section of Guy, Taylor or Alvis and Greer is unobtrusively fine. There are more neglected winners on the second volume devoted to that year, including ‘I’m Slappin’ Seventh Avenue’ (which Cecil Taylor admired), ‘Dinah’s In A Jam’, the lovely treatment of ‘Rose Of The Rio Grande’ and the very fine ‘The Stevedore’s Serenade’. At this stage, even minor slippages in quality are noticeable, but it’s clear that even when coasting the Ellington band was creatively ahead of almost everyone else on the scene.

& See also
Duke Ellington 1926–1929
(1926–1929; p. 28),
The Duke At Fargo
(1940; p. 81),
Never No Lament
(1940–1942; p. 81),
Black, Brown And Beige
(1944–1946; p. 91),
Ellington At Newport
(1956; p. 189),
The Far East Suite
(1966; p. 336)

BENNY GOODMAN
^&

Born 30 May 1909, Chicago, Illinois; died 13 June 1986, New York City

Clarinet

At Carnegie Hall 1938: Complete

Columbia C2K 65143 2CD

Goodman; Ziggy Elman, Buck Clayton, Harry James, Gordon Griffin (t); Bobby Hackett (c); Red Ballard, Vernon Brown (tb); Hymie Schertzer, George Koenig, Johnny Hodges (as); Arthur Rollini, Lester Young, Babe Russin (ts); Harry Carney (bs); Jess Stacy, Teddy Wilson, Count Basie (p); Lionel Hampton (vib); Allan Reuss, Freddie Green (g); Harry Goodman, Walter Page (b); Gene Krupa (d). January 1938.

Lionel Hampton said (1990):
‘Benny didn’t leave anything to chance, ever, and that concert was planned right down to the posters and how we’d walk on stage. I sometimes say it was just another day at work, but it was more than that.’

A famous occasion, and the music still stands up extraordinarily well. This was one of those events – like Ellington at Newport 1956 – when jazz history is spontaneously changed, even if Goodman had clearly planned the whole thing as a crowning manoeuvre. Unmissable points: Krupa’s fantastically energetic drumming throughout, leading to the roof coming off on ‘Sing, Sing, Sing’; an Ellington tribute and a jam on ‘Honeysuckle Rose’ with various guests from other bands (George Simon called it ‘ineffectual’, but it’s very exciting); Ziggy Elman powering through ‘Swingtime In The Rockies’; and the original quartet going through its best paces. But the whole affair is atmospheric with the sense of a man and a band taking hold of their moment. Columbia’s new edition is a model effort, masterminded by Phil Schapp, whose indomitable detective work finally tracked down the original acetates and gave us the music in the best sound we’ll ever get; with powerful, even thrilling, ambience.

& See also
The Complete Small Group Sessions
(1935–1939; p. 52),
B.G. In Hi-Fi
(1954; p. 157)

CHU BERRY

Born Leon Berry, 13 September 1910, Wheeling, West Virginia; died 30 October 1941, Conneaut, Ohio

Tenor saxophone

Chu Berry 1937–1941

Classics 784

Berry; Roy Eldridge, Hot Lips Page, Irving Randolph (t); Keg Johnson, George Mathews (tb); Buster Bailey (cl); Charlie Ventura (ts); Clyde Hart, Horace Henderson, Benny Payne (p); Danny Barker, Al Casey (g); Israel Crosby, Milt Hinton, Al Morgan, Artie Shapiro (b); Big Sid Catlett, Cozy Cole, Leroy Maxey, Harry Yeager (d). March 1937–September 1941.

Saxophonist Frank Lowe said (1989):
‘I never was convinced by all the screaming that was supposed to be part of “avant-garde” music. I was more interested in what Chu Berry did down in the middle and lower end of his instrument, a quieter approach, like someone speaking to you, not shouting.’

When Chu Berry died, fatally injured in a car wreck while on tour, they left his chair in the Calloway band sitting empty as a mark of tribute. He had had a spell with Fletcher Henderson before signing up with Cab, and his tenor language was much influenced by Coleman Hawkins, though it had deceptive similarities to Lester Young, who evolved in parallel rather than exerting an influence. Berry’s reputation is still in eclipse. He died a little too
soon for the extraordinary revolution in saxophone-playing that followed the end of the war. He had a big sound, not unlike Coleman Hawkins, who considered him an equal, with a curiously fey inflexion that was entirely his own.