Listening to Prestige 579: Willis Jackson

During the pre-rock and roll era of American pop music, there were, very generally, two types of singers: the jazz-influenced singers like Bing Crosby and Nat "King" Cole, who were, more or less, popularizers of Louis Armstrong, and the bel canto-influenced singers like Tony Martin and Jerry Vale, who were, more or less, popularizers of Mario Lanza. And there was a deep divide between them, bridged by no one except possibly Dean Martin (Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett were Italian, but they were definitely in the jazz-influenced camp).

So, could the divide be crossed by a tenor saxophone player with a jazzman's touch and rhythm and blues in his soul? Willis (Coda di Alligatore) Jackson seemed to think so, as he devoted virtually a whole album to jazz renditions of Italian pop songs.

LISTEN TO ONE: Al di La

It worked better than you might think. The rhythm and blues honkers tended to have a sweet sentimental side, perhaps modeled on Earl Bostic, and the Italian ballads fit into that. Most of this album is unavailable online, so I wasn't able to hear how Jackson handled "Volare," for example, but I did listen to his "Arrivederci Roma." That's a melody that's hard to listen to without hearing Eddie Fisher crooning it or Mario Lanza giving it the full melodramatic treatment, even though it does start out with a Latin rhythm from Montego Joe, but once Jackson begins improvising on it -- no, make that once he really gets into improvising

on it -- its jazz possibilities open up. "Arrivederci Roma" on the album is 5:43 in length; the 45 RPM single version is edited down to 2:28, and that's the version which is currently available on YouTube. 

Technology had certainly advanced to the point where you could have fit 5:43 onto a 45 RPM record, so why shorten it it into what in those days would have been called the Readers' Digest condensed version? My guess...that's what the market wanted. The market in those days was radio play, which meant the pop music stations or the Black-oriented stations on your AM dial. FM radio, and songs like "Like a Rolling Stone" or "MacArthur Park" or "Alice's Restaurant" were still in the future, and your radio stations wanted manageable chunks of music between the disc jockey patter and the commercials. Jukeboxes wanted something you could dance to for three minutes or less before putting another nickel in. And presumably it was assumed that the customer putting that nickel in the slot to hear Willis Jackson wanted to hear Willis Jackson, because the 45 RPM condensed versions of jazz album cuts tended to excise everything except the featured soloist. So no Bucky Pizzarelli, authentic Italian-American though he was, no Gildo Mahomes.

The other cut I was able to listen to is "Al di là," which had been that year's Italian entry in the

Eurovision Song Contest (it finished 5th). Eurovision was still relatively new in 1962, and its entries are, even to this day, not guaranteed much stateside audience (unless they're by Abba), but "Al di là" hd gotten some attention when Connie Francis recorded it as the B side of a minor hit, and it worked for the theme of the album, and was the occasion for some very nice guitar-saxophone interplay. Jackson, with Jack McDuff and Bill Jennings, was one of the originators of the saxophone-guitar-organ soul jazz sound, but this is an altogether different way of blending these two instruments.

Bucky Pizzarelli and Gildo Mahones had both recently made their Prestige debuts, Pizzarelli accompanying Etta Jones and Mahones with Ted Curson. Pizzarelli would have a couple more sessions over the next few years accompanying singers, but most of his acclaimed career would be elsewhere. Mahones would stay longer in the Prestige orbit, including three albums as leader.

Neapolitan Nights was released on Prestige--not Moodsville. "Arrivederci Roma" was the A side of a single which had "Y'All," from a very different session, on the B side. More thematically paired was another single, "Mama" (which had been a 1959 hit for Connie Francis) and "Neapolitan Nights."

Ozzie Cadena produced.

The one Jackson original title on the album was "Verdi's Vonce," Jackson's blues tribute (according to the liner notes) to Verdi. I would love to hear it. It was also included on a compilation album called Soul Stompin': The Best of Willis Jackson.

Listening to Prestige 575: Etta Jones

LISTEN TO ONE: If I Loved You

 A short session for Miss Jones--one song to fill out Hollar!, being readied for release, and three for a future project. She would be back in the studio in early 1963, and the three sessions together would make her last recording sessions for Prestige, to be issued as Love Shout, which was actually released before Hollar! Why these titles for these two albums is anyone's guess, as Jones was a singer, not a shouter. But then, a lot of the marketing decisions over the course of her long career may not have been the best ones, as her reputation has always seemed to lag behind her talent.

This is an interesting session in terms of song selection, leaning toward songs on the sweet end of the spectrum, not necessarily the first choices for most jazz singers--although other songs from not exactly hipster sources, like Sigmund Romberg and Rudolf Friml, have become jazz standards.

The session begins with Rodgers and Hammerstein's "If I Loved You," from Carousel, a much-loved standard for pop singers, bel canto and even operatic voices, not so many jazz singers. Doo wop singers of the 1950s breathed new life into a lot of standards and show tunes, but not this one--perhaps it was too resistant to a rhythm and blues spin. Dinah Washington recorded it twice, and Sarah Vaughan once. Dinah's first in 1950 with an orchestra led by drummer Teddy Stewart, and some melodramatic, almost coloratura, belting. the second a decade later with Quincy Jones. Both featured lush strings and an orchestral mood, as did Sarah's--I don't know the arranger or orchestra leader.

It goes without saying that both Dinah and Sarah can do no wrong with a song. Etta may not quite have the vocal chops of those two ladies, because no one has (except Ella, of course), but I do believe that Etta has the definitive jazz interpretation. She swings it, with a killer assist from Jerome Richardson on flute. Etta has always had the unique ability to channel other jazz singers without sacrificing her own individuality, and she does that here, starting out the way Dinah might have if she'd had Richardson, Kenny Burrell and Bucky Pizzarelli swinging her along, but then taking it to places that are pure Jones. For jazz, she owns this tune.

 "Hi Lili, Hi Lo" was written for the Leslie Caron / Mel Ferrer movie Lili by composer Bronislau Kaper  and Helen Deutsch, the film's screenwriter and not otherwise a lyricist. It was a 1952 hit for Dinah Shore before the movie came out, then everlastingly associated with  the character of the sweet, innocent orphan who talked to puppets. It became a standard, mostly for girl singers with sweet, innocent voices, like the Lennon Sisters, the Chordettes, or Teresa Brewer--although Jimmy Durante also sang it (a weird masterpiece), as did the Everly Brothers (mistake), Manfred Mann (mistake), and Gene Vincent (oddly enough, not so bad). But jazz singing is mostly not about sweetness and innocence, although one of the great jazz vocals of all time is pure sweetness and innocence--Ella's "A-Tisket, a-Tasket," which works so well because there's no knowing wink behind it.

Jones respects the sweetness of "Hi Lili, Hi Lo." There's no knowing wink behind her rendition. But there's musical sophistication in the guitar parts especially, and if she doesn't swing it the way she does "If I Loved You," she gives it a nice bluesy touch. 

Nat "King" Cole was never an innocent orphan who talked to puppets, for all his silky voice, and his

"Nature Boy" was a song about an innocent, not a song of innocence. It's a prodigiously recorded song -- nearly 600 versions, with lyrics translated into a bunch of languages including French, Italian, Portuguese, and three different Finnish translations, and yet it remains always Nat "King" Cole's. Etta Jones won't change your mind about that, but her knowing, smoky version, shorter than any of the other songs on this session, has its own very real words, not the least of them being Jerome Richardson's sax solo.

There's no question about the jazz credentials of "A Gal From Joe's" -- it was written by Duke Ellington, and his original 1938 recording features a memorable Johnny Hodges solo. And it's a good tune, but one that never caught on the way so many Ellington songs have -- in fact, Jones's 1962 recording was the first to feature a vocal. Nina Simone would record it a couple of years later, and her version is the best known. Contemporary singer Deborah J. Carter has recorded it, and that's about it. The lyric, credited to Ellington's manager Irving Mills, is odd -- is the gal leaving Joe's because she's dying? Because she's been arrested for murder? Or just because she's tired of Joe? Anyway, Jones does a fine version of a tune that deserves more attention than it's gotten, with wonderful solo and ensemble work from the musicians.

Also on this gig -- Sam Bruno, playing both organ and piano, although he's probably better known as a bassist; Ernest Hayes on bass (can't find any other credits for him, unless he's Ernie Hayes the piano player--he's certainly not Ernest Hayes the bass fisherman); and Bobby Donaldson, who's made several Prestige sessions, including a few backing up vocalists, and who brings a lot to this date.

Three of the four songs made it onto 45 RPM releases. "Nature Boy" and "Hi Lili, Hi Lo" were one entry. "A Gal from Joe's" was paired with "Some Day My Prince Will Come," from one of the later sessions. Esmond Edwards had brought Jones to Prestige, but Ozzie Cadena produced this and the later Love Shout sessions.