Listening to Prestige 552: Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee

LISTEN TO ONE: Backwater Blues

 People tend to remember how the British invasion of the mid-1960s, starting with the Beatles in 1964, changed the face of popular music and put an end to the careers of a lot of American performers. But it's worth noting how it changed the perception of blues. Blues performers had been a part of the acoustic folk music revival that had put down roots in the 1940s with folk singers like Woody Guthrie and Cisco Houston, and had begun to blossom in the 1950s, with folk music coffee houses in northern cities and college towns, and folk festivals, the most significant of which was the 1959 debut of the Newport Folk Festival in Newport, RI, site of the already well-established Newport Jazz Festival. Amplified blues performers like

Muddy Waters or B. B. King were relegated to the "chitlin' circuit" of rhythm and blues and jazz acts whose audiences were primarily, often exclusively Black. 

But if white audiences in America weren't listening to Black electric blues people, young British audiences, and especially young British musicians, certainly were, starting with Muddy Waters' first trip to England in 1958. When those electric blues-influenced British musicians started touring America, they were bringing it all back home, to borrow a phrase from another American folk musician turned electric. By the time of the first all-blues festival, in Ann Arbor, MI. in 1969, the electric acts were in the ascendant.

So performers like Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, who had once been supporting acts to performers like Pete Seeger, the Kingston Trio, Joan Baez and Bob Dylan (Sonny and Brownie were part of the 1959 Newport Folk Festival), became supporting acts to performers like Howlin' Wolf, B. B. King and the Paul Butterfield Blues Band.

But they always had their audience, and there are many recordings made by the duo over the years to

prove it. They also had the good sense, borne of hardship and working class values, to know not to break up a successful act, so they remained working together for many years, although they famously did not particularly get along with each other. They worked the folk festivals, and the blues festivals, and the college gigs, and...as in the case of this live recording...the coffee houses. The Second Fret was a fond favorite of Philadelphia folk music fans up through the early 1970s, and Sonny and Brownie were always welcome there.

The two singers' repertoire was extensive, with blues written themselves (Sonny's "Me and Huddie Ledbetter") or reworked to fit them ("Brownie's "Me and Sonny," reworked from Sonny's song), or remembered from childhood, or picked up along the way. Or learned from other recordings, as with Bessie Smith's "Backwater Blues," a song about refugees from a devastating flood. It has become associated with the great flood of the Mississippi Delta in 1927, and has been by blues singers who witnessed that flood, and blues singers who didn't--Terry was born in Georgia, McGhee in Tennessee. However, it was written and recorded by Bessie Smith two months before that disaster happened. It's believed to be describing an earlier flood of the Cumberland River near Nashville. Regardless, it is a devastating account of a natural disaster.

Brownie McGhee and Sonny Terry at the 2nd Fret was recorded live, Kenneth S. Goldstein producing the record. It was released on Bluesville.

Listening to Prestige 551: Latin Jazz Quintet

LISTEN TO ONE: Dorian

 This was the last Prestige album for Juan Amalbert and the Latin Jazz Quintet, and very near to the end of Tru-Sound Records. It featured Bobby Capers and Bill Ellington, but otherwise a different lineup for this ever-shifting group. Manny Ramos, who played on the Eric Dolphy and Shirley Scott sessions, returns. New on board are vibraphonist Willie Bivens, pianist Willie Gardner, and percussionist Victor Allende.

Bivens, whose father was also William Bivens and also a vibist with swing bands in the 1940s, would go on to play with Pucho and the Latin Soul Brothers. a late 1960s group that recorded for Prestige and merits a footnote in jazz history as the group where Chick Corea got his start. Bivens also was part of one Grant Green album for Blue Note.

Victor Allende played with other Latin groups, and on a couple of Prestige albums later in the decade--one with Willis Jackson, and the other with George Braith, and album that would become a cult favorite.

It's hard to chart Willie Gardner's career. He seems to have recorded with Johnny Hodges in 1968. Beyond that, it gets murky. There are a number of credits for pianist/organist Billy Gardner, but it's not at all clear whether they're the same person. In most sources, they seem to be divided. Billy Gardner is credited on Allmusic.com as recording with Dave Bailey, George Braith, Charlie Rouse and others, but not with Hodges or Amalbert, so that would suggest two different artists. On the other hand, though the personnel list on the album credits Willie Gardner, Billy Taylor, in his liner notes, calls him Billy.  

Amalbert's Latin Jazz Quintet was very much a jazz ensemble. Taylor describes him as:

...multilingual verbally as well as musically, [so] he has an unusually large heritage of rich, expressive and exciting sounds and rhythms to choose from. By carefully selecting musicians whose talents he admires and whose feelings are compatible with his own, the energetic leader of the LJQ has blended what he considers the best musical elements of the North and South American musical traditions and emerged with his own conception of "Latin Jazz."

Amalbert and Ellington appeared with Pharaoh Sanders on an extremely obscure album called Oh! Pharaoh Speak, which was credited to The Latin Jazz Quintet - Featured Guest Artist Pharoah Sanders - Under The Direction Of Juan Amalbért. There was a second collaboration between the LJQ and Eric Dolphy, but this one was without Amalbert. 

The Tru-Sound release was entitled The Chant, and the group was credited as Juan Amalbert's Latin Jazz Quintet  Esmond Edwards produced.

Listening to Prestige 550 -- Benny Carter, Ben Webster, Barney Bigard

LISTEN TO ONE: Lula

 One of the wonderful things about jazz is its capacity, more than in almost any other music, to surprise you. Sometimes it surprises you with how unexpected it is, and it doesn't have to be on today's cutting edge to do that. You can listen to Charlie Parker and still be seized by a phrase that sounds as if it had been recorded this morning.  You can listen to Louis Armstrong for the hundredth time and suddenly understand all over again what Miles Davis meant when he said that there's nothing you can play on the trumpet that Armstrong hasn't played already, including the modern stuff.

And sometimes it just surprises you with how right it is. 

That's the case with this Swingville album by three guys who come to play, and who know how to play. And for many of them, with not much chance to record any more, which is why we're so grateful for this Swingville series. Verve was another label that kept classic jazz alive, but it tended to concentrate more on a few major stars.

That last was not so true of Ben Webster. He,  Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young formed the legendary triumvirate of classic tenor sax, and although Young lost the battle to illness and addiction, Hawkins and Webster went on recording prolifically throughout the 1950s and 1960s.

Surprisingly, though Webster's career as a leading jazz artist goes back as far as the 1930s, he doesn't seem to have recorded as a leader until the mid-1950s. But he made up for lost time, first with a number of albums for Verve/Norgran, then with a variety of labels right up until his death in 1973 (his last is one of my personal all-time favorites, recorded in Spain three months before his death with the Belgian pianist Tete Montoliu, released as Gentle Ben on the Spanish Ensayo label and as Did You Call? in the US on Nessa). 

Ben Webster

Benny Carter lived to be a national treasure and also sustained an active recording career, making his last recording in 1995 at age 87. Like Hawkins, he made a number of recordings for Norman Granz, for Verve and Norgran in the 1950s, and later, in 1970s-80s, for Granz's Pablo Records. For both Carter and Hawkins, this was their only Prestige session.

Webster and Carter developed reputations that were not bound by an era or a genre. Barney Bigard, best known for his stints in the Ellington (1927-42) and Armstrong (1947-55 and 1960-61) orchestras--so closely associated with these two giants that is autobiography was entitled With Louis and the Duke--was much more associated with jazz nostalgia. In this session, he's able to join the other two B's in what I've come to think of as the Swingville style -- music played by swing era veterans with a modern touch, although Bigard, on clarinet, edges them a little more toward nostalgia.

The session was recorded in Los Angeles, so it features some West Coast musicians not customarily heard on Prestige recordings. One such is trumpeter Shorty Sherock, who did a lot of West Coast studio work, particularly with Nelson Riddle, with whose orchestra he can be heard backing up Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald and others. He also played with Jimmy Dorsey and Gene Krupa, and was a charter member of Norman Granz's Jazz at the Philharmonic in 1944.  Another full-time denizen of the West Coast was bassist Leroy Vinnegar, best known as one of the trio, with Andre Previn and Shelley Manne, who created the mega-selling hit record My Fair Lady Loves Jazz. 

Jimmy Rowles was more West Coast than not, although as one of the most sought-after accompanists of female jazz singers (Carmen McRae described him as  "the guy every girl singer in her right mind would like to work with") he traveled a lot. His reputation as an accompanist almost overshadows his work in instrumental settings, but a healthy cross section of major jazz instrumentalists, and he recorded prolifically as a leader, in trio settings or with larger groups, even singing on at least one album.

Dave Barbour was the one girl singer in particular wanted to work with. After a busy career in the 1930s, he married Peggy Lee and was her arranger/bandleader/co-writer ("Mañana," "It's a Good Day") until their 1951 divorce. After that he more or less dropped out of music--this session was one of his rare appearances.

Mel Lewis was more bicoastal, and is probably best known for the big band he co-led with Thad Jones for many years at the Village Vanguard in New York. He had played a couple of earlier Prestige gigs.

Leonard Feather produced, and wrote two of the numbers on the album ("Opening Blues" and "You Can't Tell the Difference When the Sun Goes Down Blues." Carter wrote the other two. The album was entitled BBB and Co., and was released on Swingville.

Listening to Prestige 549: John Wright

LISTEN TO ONE: Blue Prelude

 This was John Wright's last album for Prestige, before retreating back to Chicago and the inside of a bottle, finally emerging from that trap to become a legendary figure in that neighborhood which he had apotheosized with his first album, South Side Soul, and in doing so he had created a persona that would remain with him for the rest of his life. He was Mr. South Side Soul, and a beloved figure on the South Side of Chicago.

Musical Chicago is probably most associated in the public mind with the guitar and harmonica-based blues of Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Little Walter, Junior Wells and Buddy Guy,  But the piano had its place in Chicago blues, too, with performers

like Memphis Slim, Champion Jack Dupree, Big Maceo Meriwether, and Otis Spann. One of the chief architects of the Chicago blues sound was Willie Dixon, and he got his start playing the bass in a jazz trio led by Leonard "Baby Doo" Caston, a pianist in the Nat "King" Cole style that was so popular in the early 1940s. 

The piano jazz faces of Chicago in the modern era were Ahmad Jamal and Ramsey Lewis, and John Wright could well have made them a triumvirate, but for the alcoholism that took so many years from him. Even so, though he never broke out to national recognition like the other two, Chicago knew him, and his Wright Gatherings became a local musical tradition.

Like Jamal and Lewis and Caston, the piano trio was his favored lineup, and for this album, in addition to Prestige regular Wendell Marshall, who had worked with before, he used drummer Walter "Baby Sweets" Perkins, a Chicagoan who had gotten his start with Jamal.

The album features four Wright compositions and one by Esmond Edwards, whose compositional

contributions were extremely rare on the many records he produced, for Prestige and elsewhere.  The other three are by composers not close to the center of modern jazz, although "What's New?" by trad jazz stalwart Bob Haggart has become a much-loved standard for a wide range of jazz performers down to the present day. "Our Waltz" is by David Rose and "Blue Prelude" is by Gordon Jenkins, both pop music orchestra leaders. "Our Waltz" is not completely unknown to the world of jazz musicians always with open ears to a good melody with improvisational possibilities: both Gary Burton and Rahsaan Roland Kirk recorded it in the early 1960s. "Blue Prelude" has a little something for everyone. In addition to the many pop singers and

orchestras that have recorded it, it's been country (Bob Wills, David Houston), rhythm and blues (Sam "the Man" Taylor), and Latin (Candido, Jack Costanzo). Outside of Wright, the closest it's come to a modern jazz interpretation is George Shearing, who recorded it twice, once as an instrumental and once with Peggy Lee. Wright finds good things to explore in it, taking it somewhat more percussively and explosively than it's used to being taken--and, in fact, it became the 45 RPM single release from the session, along with his own composition "Strut." 

Edwards produced, and the Prestige release was entitled Mr. Soul.

Listening to Prestige 548: Etta Jones - Gene Ammons

LISTEN TO ONE: You Don't Know My Mind

LISTEN TO ONE: My Gentleman Friend

 Etta Jones's career followed a familiar arc: Apprenticeship, a breakthrough and a pinnacle of success, a period of decline. For Jones, the toiling in the fields stage was a long one--her first recording in 1944, with Barney Bigard. Her rise was meteoric when it finally came. After recording singles off and on through the 1940s and 1950s, and one little noticed album for King in 1957, she broke out with her debut album for Prestige, 1960's Don't Go to Strangers, which sold a million copies, made Billboard's top 40 with the single, and was nominated for a Grammy. She would remain on Prestige's roster for the next five years, and record eight albums, but would never have another hit like Don't Go to Strangers, would never make a significant dent in the DownBeat and Playboy polls. So...an unusually long gestation period, a brief moment of glory (sadly, not all that unusual) and then a long period of declining popularity. But that long period was super-long, as a core of devoted listeners never went away, as her career spanned six decades, until he death in 2001, just after she had recorded her last album. After leaving Prestige, she began a collaboration with saxophonist Houston Person which lasted 29 years. And while she may never have

gotten the recognition she deserved, there was always enough demand for the music she and Person made to keep her working. Nor was she completely overlooked--there were further Grammy awards in 1981 and 1998.

Jones recorded three sessions for Prestige in April and May of 1962, the middle one of which was logged as a Gene Ammons session. 

On April 6, she recorded with a quartet led by guitarist Wally Richardson and pianist Patti Bown, with George Duvivier and Ed Shaughnessy. Bown and Shaughnessy were back for the May 4 session, this time with Budd Johnson on tenor sax and Art Davis on bass.

The two sessions were mingled together on the album, Lonely and Blue. The tunes from the  April 13 Ammons session (Bown, Duvivier, Walter Perkins on drums) were included on a compilation album. Soul Summit No. 2, and later added to the CD reissue of Lonely and Blue.

It's a wonderful album. The songs are a mix of standards and little known tunes, ballads and blues, all of them good songs with intelligent lyrics that Jones understands and conveys from the inside out. The songs Ammons's and especially Johnson's tenor sax presage her work with Houston Person, warm, romantic, meticulously phrased and passionately delivered, voice and saxophone meshing and playing off each other.

Because her songs with saxophone and piano/guitar are each so distinctive, I have to give a Listen to Two for this album, and even then it's hard to choose. I went with two of the more obscure cuts. "Gentleman Friend" was written by Richard Lewine and Arnold B. Horwitt for a 1948 Broadway Revue called Make Mine Manhattan, which had a decent run and is best known for being the Broadway debut of Sid Caesar. It was pretty much the highlight of Lewine's an Horwitt's careers, though they both did respectable work in the music business. "You Don't Know My Mind" is by Clarence Williams, prolific tunesmith and one of the first successful Black music publishers.

Jones is featured on the three tracks of the Gene Ammons session, recorded shortly before he began his second prison term. The session was split over two compilation albums also featuring cuts by Jack

McDuff: Soul Summit and Soul Summit, Vol. 2. Among their other significant virtues, these albums showcase how good, and how underused, Patti Bown was. A second Ammons session, the next day, this one with Shaughnessy, was released on Moodsville.

Lonely and Blue was a Prestige release. Esmond Edwards produced both days, and the Ammons sessions. The Jones / Richardson session produced a 45 RPM single, "And I'll Be There" / "In the Dark." The 45 RPM single off the first Ammons session was "The Party's Over / "I Want to Be Loved;" off the second, "On the Street of Dreams" / "You'd be So Nice to Come Home To."

Listening to Prestige 546: Walter Bishop Jr.

LISTEN TO ONE: The Bishop Moves

 This is a fascinating and nearly unclassifiable piano trio outing with a strange and totally unclassifiable parentage. It was originally part of an album on two British labels, Operators and Stateside. The album was called A Pair of "Naturals," and it was a most unnatural pairing indeed: on the one hand, Walter Bishop Jr., known as a bebop pianist; on the other, the Peter Yorke Orchestra featuring the London Strings and the Top Brass of London. Yorke was, as you may have surmised from his billing, a conductor and composer primarily of light classical music, also noted for his orchestrations for dance bands. So

perhaps they got together when Bishop was over in London playing a gig with a dance band? No, they don't seem to have gotten together at all. Yorke's contributions to the album were recorded in London, Bishop's in New York. 

Perhaps a clue in the labels they recorded for? Not much there, either. Operators was a short-lived label that brought out a handful of 45 RPM singles by singers so obscure that I can find no biographical information on them (except one, "Johnny Lindy," only because he gave up singing and became a successful TV producer under his real name). They recorded no other light classical music, no other jazz, and no other LPs. Stateside was more successful, but equally un-oriented toward either light classical or jazz. They basically did the same thing Operators did -- licensing American pop records for British release, but they had quite a few hits, starting with Freddy Cannon's "Palisades Park" and grabbing the early Motown catalog, before Motown established its own British presence.

Peter Yorke had a fine and successful career in Britain, having nothing to do with either jazz or Prestige, but Walter Bishop's contribution, from this and a later session, was eventually brought out by Prestige as The Walter Bishop Trio/1965, although the recordings were made in 1962 and 1963, and the record was released in 1970.

So, nothing more to do but talk about the music itself, and it deserves mention, although I'm not quite sure what to say about it except that it's wonderful. Bishop's main claims to fame are as a bebopper, but this is a long way away from bebop. It's almost jarring and perverse enough to be free jazz, but it can in no way be remotely compared to what Coleman or Coltrane, Dolphy or Ayler or even Cecil Taylor, were doing. Bishop's left hand lays down a solid groove, but this is not remotely soul jazz. So...bebop but not bebop, free but not free jazz, solid groove but not soul jazz, and not exactly a solid groove, either...throw in some block chords and it's sort of like Thelonious Monk, then? Yes, except for not being at all like Monk. Best to take a listen for yourself, and then talk it over with a real musical expert.

Wilbert Hogan, also known as Wilbur Hogan, Granville Hogan and G. T. Hogan, has appeared on Prestige a couple of times before, with Earl Coleman and Jesse Powell. He was working regularly with Bishop in the early 1960s. Butch Warren was a youngster of 22 who had already collected quite a resume. The son of a part time musician in the Washington DC area, he grew up in a house full of musicians, and began playing the bass when an instrument got left behind in his father's music room by Billy Taylor (the Ellington bassist, not the piano player). At 14, he started playing in his father's band. At 19, he was asked to sub for a bassist who didn't show up for a Kenny Dorham gig, and Dorham invited him to come to New York, where he made his first recording on an album initially released on a tiny label as The Arrival of Kenny Dorham, and later, sadly, as The Kenny Dorham Memorial Album. Drug addiction and mental illness cut Warren's career short, and by the mid-1960s he had retreated from the jazz scene.

You have the history of this recording session. Time to check out the music.

Listening to Prestige 545: Buddy Lucas

LISTEN TO ONE: Hocus Pocus

Tru-Sound, Bob Weinstock's "modern rhythm and blues" label, was not one of his more successful ventures, although it did hang on until 1963, when Weinstock folded most of his subsidiary labels (Bluesville and New Jazz hung around another year). But there weren't that many releases, and most of them--certainly the most successful--were by King Curtis. Buddy Lucas was one of the last artists to sign with the label, and if Weinstock was looking for a genuine rhythm and blues professional, he had come to the right man. Lucas had been recording R&B since joining Wynonie Harris in 1950, and had started recording with his own combo for Jubilee Records in 1951. An early two-sided hit for Jubilee set the pattern for his 78

RPM singles: a ballad on one side and an uptempo, honking blues on the other. That he was prized for both can be demonstrated by two of the biggest hits he played on: Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers' "Why Do Fools Fall In Love" and Little Anthony and the Imperials' "Tears on My Pillow." He was one of the most in-demand session men for rhythm and blues and rock and roll throughout the decade, and into the 1960s. Around the same time that he recorded this album for Tru-Sound, he played one of his best-known tenor sax solos, on Dion's "The Wanderer."

The 1960s also saw him getting calls for jazz recordings, with Clark Terry, Seldon Powell, Illinois Jacquet, Jack McDuff and others, one of the most unusual being free jazz pioneer Albert Ayler, on New Grass, an album Ayler made for Impulse! to show that he had a more poppish, commercial side, not entirely successfully. Unusually for a saxophone player, Lucas also doubled on the harmonica. He recorded on that instrument with King Curtis, Lou Donaldson, Thad Jones (also jaw harp), Yusef Lateef, Johnny Hodges, George Benson and many others. A number of female singers used his harmonica sound, including Laura Nyro, Aretha Franklin, Roberta Flack, and, most notably, Nina Simone on her recording of "Since I Fell For You." He was even called in to overdub a harmonica part on a posthumous Jimi Hendrix recording.

Lucas recorded his Tru-Sound albums over two Englewood Cliffs sessions in March and April. He

surrounded himself with good players for his first dates as a leader with a jazz label that had prestige in more than just its name, and some remarkable singers. Wally Richardson, Bob Bushnell and Herbie Lovelle were Prestige veterans. Al Williams (piano for the March 31 session) had been playing professionally since the 1930s; his resume included Henry "Red" Allen, Buck Clayton and Johnny Hodges. Robert "Bobby" Banks's career stretched from 1950s to the 1980s; during the period of this recording and through much of the decade he worked with Solomon Burke. He replaced Williams on piano for the  the April 22 session. Carl Lynch was one of New York's most sought-after session guitarists from the 1940s through the 1970s. one of the mainstays of Phil Spector's sound, and featured on such anthemic recordings as James Brown's "Say It Loud (I'm Black and I'm Proud)" and Nina Simone's "Young, Gifted and Black." 

Both sessions were logged in as Buddy Lucas and the Shouters, but the Shouters, Lucas's vocal trio, were only there for the April 22 date. They were three girl singers better known in those days as members of Cissy Houston's vocal group, the Sweet Inspirations. One of them, Sylvia Shemwell, remained with the Inspirations as they backed up Aretha Franklin and Elvis Presley, among others. The other went on to solo careers. They were a pair of sisters named Warwick -- DeeDee and Dionne.

The Tru-Sound release was titled Down Home Turn Around. It was also released on Prestige's budget label, Status, as That's the Blues Man. Two 45 RPM singles came from the session, "Hocus Pokus" / "Show Down" and "Down Home Turnaround" / "April Showers."

Listening to Prestige 544: Willis Jackson

LISTEN TO ONE: Thunderbird

 Question: What's the difference between classic rhythm and blues and soul jazz? 

Answer: About three minutes.

That's the difference between the Lester Young-influenced, Illinois Jacquet-influenced, Texas roadhouse-bred, Apollo-developed, blues-based sound tenor saxophone wailing and improvising over a rock-solid groove in the 78-45 RPM era, and the LP era. Jazz With a Beat, jazz with a funky beat. And with, in the soul jazz era, a little more room to open up and try different improvisational attacks over that groove.

What about the organ, that distinctive signature sound for soul jazz? Doesn't that make it different?

Not entirely. Bill Doggett, Sil Austin, Doc Bagby and others had had rhythm and blues hits. Jack McDuff had joined the Gator to play rhythm and blues, and when the group signed with Prestige, they brought their saxophone-organ-guitar sound with them, and used it to play the longer form jams--in other words, the ones they had always played on the chitlin' circuit, but had had not been able to bring to the recording studio.

Willis Jackson had brought McDuff into his group as a bass player, and had made the inspired choice to convert him to an organist, so he knew something about nurturing organ talent. That means it's no surprise to find Freddie Roach, on the cusp of a breakout career, joining Jackson's band for this session. Roach had recorded two albums with Ike Quebec for Blue Note, and by midsummer of 1962 he was back at Blue Note to record four albums as leader. He would return to Prestige for a couple more sessions in the late 1960s, after which he stopped recording. He lived in France for a while, then California, by which time his interest had switched from jazz to the theater, where he gained something of a reputation--apparently under another name--as a playwright. He died in 1980.

Roach, along with frequent Jackson collaborators Bill Jennings, Wendell Marshall and Frank Shea, create the groove. Ray Barretto, in his second sax-organ soul jazz gig, adds the extra touch that he always does. And Jackson provided the rest. All of this comes together most emphatically on the Jackson composition "Thunderbird." When you put "Bird" in the title of a jazz composition, it's always going to suggest one thing. Bird With a Beat certainly became a rhythm and blues staple, with "Now's the Time" becoming the basis for Paul Williams's hit instrumental "The Hucklebuck." Here, there's no one Parker tune that "Thunderbird" takes off from, but Bird's improvisations on the blues are a strong inspiration.

Willis Jackson had become a mainstay of Prestige records and would remain so throughout the 1960s. This, produced once again by Esmond Edwards, was his seventh album for the label. It was released on Prestige, as was the 45 from the session, "Thunderbird," also the title of the album, "Thunderbird" was the flip side of Jackson's version of "Jambalaya."