San Sue Strut

"San Sue Strut" is one of those gems of the early swing era we forgot about in Gunther Schuller's work on the Swing Era. It might even surpass "Casa Loma Stomp" in its irresistible beat. The palpable tension and call and response of the horn section here is masterfully performed and arranged. Glen Gray and these other white cats almost got us wanting to read Lost Chords: White Musicians and Their Contribution to Jazz: 1915-1945.

The Blue Room

Forgot how marvelous Bennie Moten's Orchestra could be. "The Blue Room" combines that infectious, swinging rhythm with a raucous horn section that helped establish the sound of the 1930s (as well as Count Basie's mastery of riffs). We often forget the importance of regions like Kansas City in the development of jazz because New York, New Orleans, or Chicago demonstrate more remnants of this past.

The Uncrowned King of Swing: Fletcher Henderson and Big Band Jazz

The Uncrowned King of Swing: Fletcher Henderson and Big Band Jazz is not a biography that I was searching for. Nonetheless, Magee's text is a detailed analysis of Henderson's music across the entirety of his career, stretching from the 1920s "society orchestra" phase to swing. While I have long been a fan of Henderson, this text explains how Henderson the musician and arranger established the template for swing and jazz at its height as popular music (the Kingdom of Swing, a cultural symbol of the New Deal). It would seem that Henderson, and particularly skilled arrangers such as Don Redman, were able to breathe life into stock arrangements, incorporate the soloistic virtuosity of instrumentalists like Louis Armstrong and Coleman Hawkins, and transform jazz through arrangements of Tin Pan Alley and popular tunes for Benny Goodman.

While Henderson himself is often in the background or his involvement with arranging prior to the 1930s is shrouded in some degree of mystery, it is clear that his orchestra coalesced different influences in jazz and popular music of the era to lay the foundation of became known as swing. Louis Armstrong, Don Redman, Benny Carter, Horace Henderson, Leora Henderson were clearly pivotal in the direction of the orchestra, and the number of musicians who were schooled in Henderson proved to be important in the future of the music. Without Don Redman and Fletcher, working collaboratively with excellent musicians, to parody, reinvent, signify, and expand the repertoire of popular song, blues, and jazz with an impeccable swing, the annals of the music's history would look quite different. 

While more details of Henderson's personal life could have shed light on some of his decisions, Magee considers sociological suggestions made by Gunther Schuller and others on the role of class, as well as cultural and ideological factors, in the development of the Henderson "sound." As a product of a "black middle class upbringing", with a respected father in Cuthbert, Georgia as his father, Henderson was a graduate of Atlanta University. College-educated, and reared in the respectability of his background, Henderson learned jazz and blues in New York, where he moved in 1920. His class background, as someone whose formal training in music was classical and church-based, he represents what Gunther Schuller referred to as a shift in jazz as African American musicians with more formal musical training entered the field. Henderson's musical career, analyzed by Magee, is a wonderful example of this trend on a micro-scale as his band's versatility and "symphonic jazz approach" to the blues balanced "hot" and "sweet." Unfortunately, with only the recordings, extant charts, and some personal testimonies, we still lack a full picture of how Henderson electrified live audiences and dancers in legendary clubs and ballrooms of New York...

Radio Rhythm

Another classic from Fletcher Henderson & His Orchestra, 1931. The band's impeccable sense of rhythm and playfulness in interpreting the composition are pure delight. In a live context, perhaps at Connie's Inn up in Harlem, Henderson and the band must have delighted audiences. I'll have to search for more recordings of Billie Holiday's father on guitar, too. 

I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart

Duke, Duke, Duke. A half century of music encapsulated in one man's life and work. 

Hotter than 'Ell

Sun Ra and his "political theosophy" had a number of kooky elements. But he wasn't wrong to claim the swing bandleaders such as Fletcher Henderson were our heroes. This is swing at its best, with the excellent arrangements and musicianship of Henderson's orchestra. 

Cotton Club Stomp

A classic from Duke Ellington's Cotton Club years. This swinging number, coauthored with Johnny Hodges and Harry Carney, is a good indication of the sort of dance material used by Ellington's band at the legendary (and whites-only) club.

The Stampede

An early swingin' number from Fletcher Henderson's band. These cats were the early masters of swing, and exemplify how far the genre had moved since the early jazz recordings from the late 1910s and early 1920s. 

Ad Lib on Nippon

Duke was still making excellent music late in his career. "Ad Lib on Nippon" is all the proof one needs of the sophistication and composing genius of Ellington and Strayhorn. With "exotic" impressions of Japan and the Far East, "Ad Lib on Nippon" is a journey of discovery into parts unknown that never abandons it's emotional content. 

Star Time

"Star Time" is an excellent gem from Sun Ra's Chicago years. It's a quirky big band-styled jazz composition that, quite literally, seems to be shooting toward the stars. One can also easily detect Sun Ra's high regard for the big bands as producing beauty through discipline. Perhaps Pharaoh is not so bad.

Jumpin' at the Woodside

Rediscovered this gem from the Count Basie Orchestra after reading about the legendary band in Baraka's Blues People. Baraka stresses the use of riffs and the rhythmic innovations of Basie in advancing jazz outside of the confines of the commercialized big band sound of the Swing Era. Basie, in a sense, becomes a reassertion of the Black roots of swing in an era when it was diluted by the mainstream bands. There is an impeccable swing in Basie's music, as well as an obvious nod to the blues, so one can see why Baraka thought the way he did. 

Moten Swing

Another gem of the early Swing era in jazz, "Moten Swing." Bennie Moten's group, the nucleus of the legendary Count Basie Orchestra, showcases that uniquely Kansas City Swing sound of swingin' rhythms and blues. Moten's rhythm section and use of the horns for its bluesy riffs is impeccable here. 

Presenting Joe Williams & Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra

This funky, big band album begins with the bluesy funk of “Get Out My Life, Woman,” famously sampled by the likes of Jill Scott and other hip-hop/R&B acts. “Get out my life, woman, you don’t love me no more!” Williams has a perfect blues shouter voice, injecting blues moans, soulful interjections, and a nice vibrato at times. The horn section perfectly complements his singing, adding textural layers of sound that keep things funky, especially the drummer. It’s nice to see jazz, especially big band styles, remaining close to the necessary funk and trends of the 1960s! The subsequent track is a rousing rendition of Mayfield’s “Woman Got Soul,” one of my favorite soul jams by The Impressions. Though not the smooth, falsetto pitch of Mayfield and The Impressions, it’s a nice effort. “But the woman’s got soul, worth all money and gold!” The band is clearly trying to remain in touch with changing trends in popular music, and the band does not do a horrible job, since Mayfield was influenced by jazz and often utilized jazz-like arrangements for the Chicago-style of soul, but it just doesn’t sound right lacking Mayfield’s voice. Things smooth and mellow out for a blues classic, expertly recorded by Dinah Washington, but Williams tries “Nobody Knows the Way I Feel This Morning.”

Things continue into more jazz standards with “Gee, Baby, Ain’t I Good to You,” though not as smooth as my boy Nat King Cole’s renditions. It’s nice to hear the band play a slightly blues-drenched version, and Joe Williams does his best, so this song works. Williams plays around with the lyrics, adding some more blues-inflected vocalization, and things surprisingly work out! Next, he takes on the Motown classic, “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You),” which translate well into the big band jazzified version, though not nearly as funky and lovable as Junior Walker’s version. “I want to stop and thank you baby, and tell the world how sweet it is to be loved by you” sounds nice coming from the mouth of Williams, though. “But you brighten up all my days, with your love in so many ways, I want to stop and thank you, baby, how sweet it is to be loved you!” Unfortunately, “Keep Your Hand on Your Heart” and “Evil Man Blues,” though mostly pleasant, lack the fervor, funk, and interesting moments of earlier tracks, although the improvisatory dialogue from Williams is humorous for “Evil Man Blues.”

Things take a gospel route on Duke Ellington’s “Come Sunday,” which, I dislike. But “Smack Dab in the Middle” is a funky blues with a catchy melody and lyrics about Williams’ desire for young women and the nicer things in life, so he “can swing until he satisfies his soul.” The trombone solo is also not horrible, another plus. The horn section and rolling fingers like waves on the piano keyboard keep this simple piece from entering the terrain of boredom. “It Don’t Mean a Thing” is catchy and fun, but the scatting from Williams is something I can do without. One of the worst aspects of most vocal jazz is the preponderance of scatting, a nice attempt to match instrumentalists in their solos, most of the time it is jarring and not very interesting, but Williams definitely tries and at times, evokes the sound of a saxophone. Where things really shine, however, is on the final track, a cover of Ray Charles’ famous cover of “Night Time is the Right Time” which, though lacking the stamp of Ray Charles and his pulsating vocals (and need I mention the invaluable role of the female backup singers, who transform an old blues number into a legendary recording?). But here, the big band adds more texture, some use plunger mutes to accentuate their back up, and though the band really slows down things for the song, it succeeds. For the best, it exemplifies the strengths of Joe Williams at this period, who is truly a blues singer and, occasionally, quite funky for tracks like “Get Out My Life, Woman,” which features a strong backbeat, perfect band accompaniment, and strong vocals from the big man himself. For that song alone, this album escapes obscurity and, to me, reaches 3 stars out of 5. Moreover, I have had the opportunity to hear the reincarnation of the Thad Jones/Mel Lewis band perform, doing great numbers like “Central Park North” and “Groove Merchant,” showing the world that big band jazz groups can still keep it funky and survive afloat in the post-jazz age of popular music.