Listening to Prestige 309: Arnett Cobb

Pointing out that Prestige is celebrating its tenth anniversary by putting out a string of audience-pleasing records is not the same as suggesting that Prestige is not doing all it could be doing to further the cause and development of jazz, although there certainly were some back then who would have felt that way. There has always been an avant-garde that equates commercial success with selling out, and that was so true in 1959. I’ve said it before: we were such snobs back then. I remember Down Beat’’s dismissal of High Society and the Crosby-Armstrong number, “Now You Has Jazz”: “Jazz? I’m still waiting to hear it.” Or the critics who generally liked Bert Stern’s Jazz on a Summer’s Day but criticized the movie—and the festival—for including Chuck Berry.

I remember the comics who jabbed little pinpricks into this snobbery, like Ronny Graham and his commencement address at the School for Progressive Jazz Musicians: “When you cats came here, all you could play was the melody. Now you wouldn’t know a melody if it hit you in the mouthpiece!” Or a comedy record that I had once but no longer do, and no longer remember who the comic was, but he played the persona of a super-hip jazz critic, way too hip to like anyone. Miles? Too much mute, MJQ? Too tinkly. Who did he like? There was a quintet of Eskimoes, with axes. “That’s it? Just five saxophones?” “No, man, five axes.”

The albums that Esmond Edwards was producing and Bob Weinstock was releasing were not not going to be top sellers. They weren’t going to rival Kind of Blue or Brubeck’s Jazz Goes to College or Errol Garner’s Concert by the Sea. But they were pitched to be consistent sellers. And they were pitched to be consistent sellers to a largely black community, which meant they might well be flying under the radar of the mostly white jazz critical establishment.

Which also means, today, that to a younger generation of jazz critics, who know all about Kind of Blue and Bitches Brew, Coltrane and Dolphy and Albert Ayler and Pharaoh Sanders, and who aren’t afflicted by our generation’s snobbery (well, we outgrew it too), and are looking for more music from this rich era, these recordings are something of a treasure trove to be rediscovered, so that Scott Yanow, reviewing for AllMusic.com can give this album four stars and a “highly recommended.”

The album is called Party Time, which should give a clue as to its marketing strategy. Cobb’s trio of Ray Bryant, Wendell Marshall, Art Taylor, augmented by Ray Barretto. Barretto, the conguero equally at home with swing and Latin rhythms, gives us both here, turning “Cocktails for Two” into a hot Latin number that every dance party needs. Barretto also gives a new and exciting underpinning to the always-welcome “Flying Home,” which checks in here at just over five minutes, enough time to give the classic reading and then take it farther.

I was particularly struck by “When My Dreamboat Comes Home.” This is a syrupy ballad from the 1930s which was originally recorded by Guy Lombardo and mostly forgotten since then. But for a listener in 1959, the song only had one antecedent: the great 1956 version by Fats Domino.

Domino's version swings, it rocks and rolls, and it has the services of one of the warmest, most life-affirming voices in the history of American popular music.

Paradoxically but effectively, that warmth and positive energy was often used in the service of the blues and songs of loss, despair and even suicide--"Ain't That a Shame," "Poor Me," "Goin' to the River"--there was even the fear of being bitten by the beloved's dog. The other great chroniclers of the lure of the river were Hank Williams and Percy Mayfield, and with them, you always felt that accepting the river's invitation was a real possibility. With Domino, the tug-of-war between life and death was always going to be decided on the side of life.

All of which gave Domino an emotional richness which he used to powerful effect when singing the treacly optimism of songs from a different era and from an escapist white middle class culture--"My Blue Heaven," "When My Dreamboat Comes Home." Domino's voice comes from a world where no one is sweethearts, yes forever, but that has never gotten him down before, and his unquenchable warmth carries the day.

Party Time was the first of a successful series  of recordings. "When My Dreamboat Comes Home" and "Lonesome Road" were released as a 45.

His recording also has the benefit of Dave Bartholomew's New Orleans studio musicians, and a fiery tenor sax solo by Herbert Hardesty.

 Arnett Cobb brings the tempo back down to slow dance time, but they slow-dance differently at the party time Cobb is playing for than they did to Guy Lombardo at the Rainbow Room, and his quintet, especially Ray Barretto, give this dance a unique and flexible rhythm.

Cobb's "Dreamboat" has Fats Domino at its core, but it also has a lot more. This is a jazz ballad, and Ray Bryant's solo, which has nothing to do with Fats Domino, emphasizes that.


Cobb reprises his most popular number, "Flying Home" (he replaced Illinois Jacquet in Lionel Hampton's band). He does a couple of originals (including "Slow Poke," not the more familiar tune popularized by PeeWee King), and "Lonesome Road," which I would have thought of as a folk melody, but is credited to Gene Austin and Nathaniel Shilkret.

"Blues in the Closet" is by bass great Oscar Pettiford, and is driven by Wendell Marshall, Ray Barretto and Art Taylor laying down a great groove for Cobb to swing over.

Party Time was successful enough for Prestige to warrant a sequel. "When My Dreamboat Comes Home" and "Lonesome Road" were the single.

So what's the real thing? What are the greatest jazz records ever made? All I can tell you is that if I were driving home from New York City to Saugerties, and I found a radio station that played Fats Domino, Arnett Cobb and Giant Steps, and someone were to ask me "What was the best part of your trip?" I'd have to answer, "All of it."

Order Listening to Prestige Vol 2

Listening to Prestige Vol. 2, 1954-1956 is here! You can order your signed copy or copies through the link above.

Tad Richards will strike a nerve with all of us who were privileged to have
lived thru the beginnings of bebop, and with those who have since
fallen under the spell of this American phenomenon…a one-of-a-kind
reference book, that will surely take its place in the history of this
music.

                                                                                                                                    
--Dave Grusin

An important reference book of all the Prestige recordings during the time
period. Furthermore, Each song chosen is a brilliant representation of
the artist which leaves the listener free to explore further. The
stories behind the making of each track are incredibly informative and
give a glimpse deeper into the artists at work.

                                                                                                                --Murali Coryell