Tad Richards' odyssey through the catalog of Prestige Records:an unofficial and idiosyncratic history of jazz in the 50s and 60s. With occasional digressions.
This just goes to show, if you put a solid veteran horn player together with an absolutely impeccable rhythm section, you're likely to get some good jazz out of it.
Thompson had appeared on Prestige twice before. The first time was 1954, when Bob Weinstock was showcasing his newly signed Miles Davis in a variety of situation. Two April sessions were put together in one album, the first featuring Dave Schildkraut, the second Thompson and J. J. Johnson. Horace Silver, Percy Heath and Kenny Clarke anchored both dates.
Then in 1963, freshly returned from a sojourn in the wilderness which had included making his own furniture on a farm in the country and playing the expat game in Europe, he led his own quartet with Hank Jones, Wendell Marshall and Dave Bailey. The 1963 date, an examination of the Jerome Kern songbook, was notable for his introduction of the soprano saxophone to the quartet sound. John Coltrane had played soprano the previous year, in his Live at the Village Vanguard album, but it didn't really catch on until Trane's definitive "My Favorite Things" in 1966.
Ballads make up the lion's share of this session, mostly his own (Duke Ellington's "In a Sentimental Mood" and Bronislaw Kaper's "Invitation" are the exceptions), but he does explore some brisker rhythms too, particularly "Mumba Neua," which features the soprano sax and some nifty drumming by Connie Kay.
Don Schlitten produced, and the album was titled "Lucky Strikes," with a cover design modeled after the familiar cigarette package.
Eddie Bonnemère didn't quite make a major reputation as a jazz musician, but he made musical history of a different sort.
A church pianist in his teenage years in Harlem, a World War II vet, a serious enough student to get a master's degree from NYU. he stayed in New York and stayed with music, drawn toward the Latin rhythms of the 1950s -- in 1953, he and Ray Barretto led a band at the dance-crazed Savoy Ballroom, and by the mid-50s, he was leading a mambo band in the jazz hotbed of Detroit, where he recorded an album that was released on the Royal Roost label.
Returning to New York, now 43 years old, he got a second shot at recording with a jazz label, still very much Latin jazz-oriented. But another passion was growing within him.
Perhaps his interaction with the Latino community had led him to the Catholic Church, but he was drawn to a new movement gaining traction in New York in the 1960s, the Black Catholic Movement, spearheaded by Father Clarence Rivers, a priest who was also a composer of liturgical music that drew on black gospel music as a point of reference. Bonnemère composed a mass, the "Missa Hodeirna" for jazz ensemble and choir, which became, when it was performed at the St. Charles Borromeo Church in Harlem, one of the first jazz masses to be performed in a Catholic Church.
Bonnemère stayed with the church, composing more liturgical music, becoming the musical director of New York's Church of St. Thomas the Apostle.
He made two recording sessions for Prestige in September of 1964, with his own group, plus Kenny Burrell, which became the album Jazz Orient-ed. If the title sounds a little gimmicky, that's because it is. We've heard the genuine passion for Middle Eastern music which informs Yusef Lateef's recordings, and this isn't exactly that. The anonymous writer of the album's liner notes doesn't quite know what to make of it, though he does his best: "This fusion is not so strange when we consider that some Oriental Nations were once under Spanish control, and as a result, much of their folk music is based on Spanish Rhythms."
He also singles out Bonnemère's compositions "Roostology," "Oriental Mambo" and "The Spinx" as "very much a part of standard jazz reepertory." I don't believe any of them have stood the test of time, and in the case of "Oriental Mambo," which is on this session, I have to say that's probably just as well. It's an awkward pastiche of Eastern music clichés and mambo rhythms, but once they get beyond the main theme, the playing isn't bad at all. and the rest of the album is quite good. Whatever Bonnemère's connection to the music of the far east may have been, his commitment to Latin jazz is genuine, and his percussion-dominated group is a good one.
"Ankle Bells" was the 45 RPM single from the session, with "Man in a Raincoat" on the flip side. "Ankle Bells" is another sort of Far East/Latino mashup, but this one works, and all in all, Eddie Bonnemère makes for a good listen.
Cal Lampley produced.
Another passing oddity. Both Bonnemère and Morris Nanton recorded "The Theme from 'A Boy Ten Feet Tall,'" another song that didn't quite become a part of standard jazz repertory, within a week of each of each other. Written by Les Baxter for a now-forgotten movie, it is not included in the quite extensive list of Baxter compositions on the secondhandsongs website. I listened to both versions, and enjoyed both. I don't think there are any others.
What happens when Prestige puts one of its greatest veteran beboppers together with two of its brightest young stars?
Jazz happens. That's all you can say, and that's the very best you can say.
But I'll say a little more. Two saxophones, and Don Patterson's organ making up two thirds of the rhythm section--no piano, no bass. None of them strangers to each other. Patterson and drummer Billy James were close associates; the two of them had worked a number of times with Ervin, and they'd done a previous Prestige recording with Stitt. Ervin and Stitt are a new combination, and why'd it take so long? They have a lot to say to each other.
This is a real collaboration between three remarkable talents, and it would be hard, and ultimately futile, to try to single out one as the dominant voice, but there is a certain nod to Stitt as the old master. Side one of the LP is devoted to two Stitt compositions, "Soul People" and "Sonny's Book," and side two is standards that one would probably associate more with Stitt's era, Duke Ellington's "C-Jam Blues" and a medley of two from the Great American Songbook, "I Can't Get Started" and "The Masquerade is Over." The medley, particulatly, starts with an extended solo by Stitt in the manner of a ballad from the bebop era, but as the idea is developed by Ervin and Patterson, and Stitt again. it becomes very much a mutual exploration, and very much in a contemporary mode.
Those four tracks make up the LP, but there was a fifth tune cut at the session, although it didn't see the light of day until 1971, when it was tossed on to an album cobbled together from outtakes from Don Patterson sessions. That was "Flyin' Home," the Lionel Hampton tune that was a favorite of swing and rhythm and blues musicians. common ground for these collaborating generations in that it was a part of the repertory of neither, but certainly a tune to have some with. "Flyin' Home" is most famous from its renditions by 1930s-1940s players who the restriction of a 2 1/2-minute 78 RPM record. These guys stretch it out to ten minutes, give it a little bebop, a little hard bop, a little soul, a little swing, and more than a little money's worth for the listener. I love "Flyin' Home," and I'm delighted by what these guys have done with it.
Soul People was the natural choice for an album title in 1964, and Prestige didn't shrink from it. "C-Jam Blues" was released as a two-sided 45, credited to Sonny Stitt and Booker Ervin. Ozzie Cadena produced.
Andy Bey's work with his sisters occupies a very small part of a long and legendary career (which is not over yet). It covers three albums, one with RCA Victor in 1961 and two with Prestige, and some television appearances, so we have some live work by the trio available on video. But it's an important part of his legacy--and that of Salome and Geraldine Bey, who also went on to have distinguished, if very different, careers.
We'll start with the sisters. Salome, born and raised in Newark, moved to Canada shortly after the trio broke up, and made a life and a career there. She came to be known as "Canada's First Lady of the Blues," and she was all that and more. She appeared on Broadway in Your Arms too Short to Box with God and received a Grammy nomination for the
original cast album; and her own show, Indigo, a celebration of the history of black music, won a Dora Mavor Moore Award, honouring theatre, dance and opera productions in Toronto. Her appearances at the Montreux Jazz Festival were captured in a live album and on video--check out this stirring performance at Montreux of Billy Taylor's "I Wish I Knew How it Would Feel to be Free." After her death in 2020, she was honored on a Canadian postage stamp.
I've written about Geraldine Bey de Haas and her husband before, but I'm going to quote it here again, because it's such a significant story in the history of jazz'
if you are from Chicago, and a jazz fan, you quite likely have heard of the deHaases, for the music and civic involvement that they gave to the City of the Big Shoulders. When they retired in 2103, because of health problems, to go and live with family in New Jersey, here's a part of the tribute columnist Howard Reich of the Chicago Tribune gave to "two artists who have been central to jazz here for nearly half a century":
It was Geraldine de Haas, after all, who led many like-minded spirits in creating the first Duke Ellington celebration concert in Grant Park, in 1974, just after the master's death. The event proved so successful that it became an annual soiree, paving the way for the emergence of the Chicago Jazz Festival in 1979 and setting the stage for all the other city-sponsored music fests that followed.
When de Haas launched her campaign to stage the aforementioned Ellington tribute in Grant Park, she faced widespread resistance, even from fellow jazz musicians.
"The South Side musicians were talking about doing (the Ellington homage) on the South Side of Chicago" in Washington Park, recalls de Haas. "My suggestion was: 'Why don't you do it in the main park (downtown)? Duke Ellington was so important to all of us.'"
"(But) the black musicians were conditioned to think one way, and the white musicians were conditioned another away. They never thought about getting everyone to participate. … I was emphatic about that.
"They said: 'If you can get it, good luck.'"
Geraldine got it, in spite of resistance from the city parks commissioners, whom one has to assume were white. They told her there had been riots the last time they tried to hold a jazz concert. Riots? Jazz? It turned out they were talking about Sly and the Family Stone.
But if Geraldine wanted to give jazz to the whole city, "bringing jazz to a major downtown setting – and therefore bringing black, white and others together in a dramatic way that reflected both the cross-racial appeal of the music and the unifying characteristics of Ellington's art," she didn't forget the South Side either, creating a new and successful festival, "Jazz Comes Home," in 1981. In her words, again quoted by Reich,
"It was time to expose the music to the young people" where they lived, says de Haas. "The legacy left by a lot of African-American musicians – they needed to know about it. That was one of my missions in Chicago."
Andy Bey is still performing, into his eighties. After a meteoric career as a young man, with and then without his sisters, he slipped into obscurity, never stopped performing, was rediscovered, and is now a living legend, widely considered to be among the first rank of jazz singers. He and his sisters made two LP records for Prestige, so I'll have more to say about him next time. But let's get on to the music.
What became one album, Now! Hear!, was recorded in two sessions, three days apart, with Jerome Richardson the only musician to play both sessions. I don't know the reason for the change. Perhaps producer Cal Lampley, was dissatisfied with the first group (he needn't have been -- they are wonderful). Perhaps, new to Prestige, he decided he wanted a younger, hipper sound. All the musicians on the second date represent a different generation from the first group. Perhaps it was just a scheduling conflict. At any rate, it's not cause for complaints. Each group brings a distinctive and satisfying sound. And in any case, the focus is on the Beys, and their tight sound. In any musical field, from country to doo wop to jazz, there is something distinctive about a family harmony group. Andy recognized this from a vantage point of half a century, as he told Chris Slawecki in a 2020 interview for All About Jazz:
I was doing things with my sisters that I'm still doing somewhat, in terms of the tempo and in terms of the rhythmic attack we used to use. I used to sing the lower part, having the male voice. We have a family sound, we basically all sound the same. Like the Cole family, him and his brothers sound basically the same when they sang. They're not identical, but you can hear that family sound.
You can certainly hear that family sound on Buddy Johnson's "Since I Fell for You." The tune was written for his sister Ella, but the group harmony possibilities of it were quickly realized by a number of doowop groups, most notably the Harpton. Andy's Nat Cole-influenced piano anchors this one, with some wonderful guitar fills by Barry Galbraith.
"Willow Weep for Me" provides a good introduction to the second group, with particularly notable work by Richardson and drummer Osie Johnson, and again those family harmonies.
It's good that the Beys went their separate ways. Each of them had a distinctive and important career, contributing so much to American music. But it's also really good that they did this work, and recorded this work, together,
Prestige released two 45 RPM singles. each featuring one song from each session. "Willow Weep For Me" / "Quiet Nights Of Quiet Stars," and the second was "A Taste Of Honey" / "Besame Mucho."
Some jazz musicians never quite get the recognition they deserve. Often it's because they flame out too quickly. Drugs put an end to their career. Or they move to Europe, and whatever reputation they build there doesn't travel across the Atlantic, and while Europe and Japan may have the real dedicated jazz fans, the USA has the tastemakers and the important labels and the reputation builders. Or maybe they just don't click. Their first album fails to sell, and their rccord label decides to move on. And after a while, it's time to get a real job with a paycheck and a retirement package.
None of those things were true of Morris Nanton. This was his first record for Prestige, but he had made two previous for Warner Brothers, and he would make two more for Prestige, giving him a quite decent catalog of five LPs. He didn't flame out or die young. And he didn't move to Europe. In fact, he lived his whole life in his hometown of Perth Amboy, New Jersey, and he continued to play, and receive the love and approbation of audiences, in New Jersey clubs for six decades, including a 22-year stint with long-time partner Norman Edge at The Cove in Roselle, NJ, where -- according to his obituary in the Newark Star-Ledger, "such jazz greats as Rashan Roland Kirk, Don Elliott, Sal Nistico, Babs Gonzalez, and Joe Morello shared the spotlight with the group." And Nanton didn't need to have Kirk or Elliot on the bill to draw a crowd. A 2004 profile on the All About Jazz website describes a Thursday night at Shanghai Jazz in Madison, NJ, a Chinese restaurant/jazz club:
On this particular second Thursday, the Northeast was swept by record wind-storms. Inside the safe haven of Shanghai Jazz, several regulars blamed the weather for what they considered a poor turnout. While only a handful of seats remained empty, they were used to sitting shoulder to shoulder when the Morris Nanton Trio hits. Most clubs in Manhattan would be delighted with that level of turnout, even on a more hospitable night.
The CD explosion that began in the 1980s, and continued through the early years of the 21st century, gave a career boost to a number of musicians, as labels started repackaging and reissuing for CD much of their catalogs, even recordings that had sat on the shelf for a couple of decades. And here's where Morris Nanton's story really gets depressing. According to that same All About Jazz article,
Currently, if you want to hear Nanton and Edge, you will have to attend one of their live shows, or spend hours searching used records stores, because none of the five sessions they recorded together is available on CD...Sadly, it is unlikely any of these sessions will be reissued on CD anytime soon. Fantasy Records, owners of the Prestige catalog, has rebuffed Nanton's reissue inquiries and has turned down his offer to buy the session masters.
Nanton died in 2009, without ever seeing any of his LP recordings released on CD.
We can't feel too sorry for Nanton. He had a pretty good life in many ways. He had an unusually good rapport with his bass player and musical partner, fellow Garden Stater Norman Edge, whom he met shortly after mustering out of the army (he was a Korean war vet), and with whom he would work throughout his career (Edge had one previous Prestige date, with Gene Ammons). They easily transcended the racial divide (Nanton was African American, Edge was white), to the extent that, as Edge said, Morris was like a second son to his mom, and he was like a second son to Mrs. Nanton. They recorded with different drummers (Prestige veteran Oliver Jackson on this session), but throughout most of their careet in the New Jersey club scene, their drummer was Jeff Brillinger, who also played with Stan Geta, Hod O'Brien, and Woody Herman.
And althoigh the CD explosion psssed him by, Roberta, one of his Warner Brothers albums, can be found on Spotify and Apple Music, and various albums, including this Prestige debut, are represented on YouTube.
So what's the music like? It is seriously worth a listen. Nanton was slotted by Warner Brothers for a role that was popular at the time -- jazz interpretations of Broadway shows and movie themes -- and he brings some of that to this session, with the themes from Lawrence of Arabia and Black Orpheus.
Nanton takes a bold, percussive approach to the piano, and while he's respectful of the show tunes that were his bread and butter, he's not afraid to put his personal stamp on them either. "Lawrence of Arabia" is known for the lush orchestral arrangement of Maurice Jarre, and that's something you're not going to duplicate with a piano trio, so a whole different approach is called for. Nanton's version begins with a driving drum intro by Oliver Jackson, and then the piano comes in with an approach that is so percussive I had to check the session log to make sure he hadn't switched in a set of vibes.
The "jazz versions of well known movie themes" fad wasn't always a rewarding one, but Nanton makes it awfully good listening here.
Two 45 RPM singles came out of these sessions. First was "Theme from 'A Boy Ten Feet Tall'" / "Ja Da," the second side of which became Nanton's closest bid for a hit. Second was "The Sweetest Sounds" / "The Theme From 'Black Orpheus.'"
Cal Lampley produced the session. He had been a producer for Columbia for a number of years, and had recently begun branching out to work for other labels. His arrangement/production of "Misty," recorded by Richard "Groove" Holmes, would become Prestige's biggest selling single of all time, reaching #44 on the Billboard charts.
Nanton's album was title Preface. Would that it had been the preface to more of a recording career, and more national acclaim. But Morris and Norman did all right, and I'm glad that Listening to Prestige gave me a chance to hear them.
