Harold Land - The Hard Bop Legacy [1928-2001] [From the Archives]

© -  Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

At a round-table discussion on West Coast jazz held in 1988, Buddy Collette offered a few words about fellow saxophonist Harold Land:

Harold"s been one of the finest tenor players I've heard and I have hardly heard a write-up about what this man has been doing through the years. . . . I've known him for 30 years, 35 years, and he's been playing jazz morning, noon and night. ... In New York he would have gotten more.

It is all too telling that Harold Land is best remembered in the jazz world for the brief time he was performing on the East Coast with the Clifford Brown/Max Roach Quintet. Land's thirty-five years of exceptional work since that time are often treated as an elaborate footnote to this early apprenticeship. The recordings, however, tell no lies. They document Land's major contributions to jazz both during and after his work with Brown and Roach. They reveal that he was one of the most potent voices on the West Coast scene throughout the period.

Those aware of Land's origins in Houston, Texas, where he was born on February 18, 1928, often hear a lingering Texas tenor sound in his playing. In fact, Land and his family spent only a few months in the Lone Star State. Soon his family moved to Arizona, and just a few years later they settled in San Diego. At an early age Land began taking piano lessons, at the instigation of his mother, but switched to tenor after hearing Coleman Hawkins's influential 1939 recording of "Body and Soul."

- Ted Gioia, West Coast Jazz, Modern Jazz in California, 1945-1960

"IN VIEW OF THE CURRENT VOGUE among musicians of such terms as "earthy" and "roots" when appraising the authenticity of a jazzman, I cannot resist noting the aptness of Harold Land's name in this alfresco context. His playing is as deeply rooted in jazz tradition as anyone's now in jazz. His capacity for communicating the blues, his wholeness of pulsation and his insistence on "keeping the emotion free" when he plays — all these elements make him a modernist whose language would not be alien to Sidney Bechet or Tommy Ladnier or Speckled Red."

- Nat Hentoff, Jazz author, critic and educator

"Harold Land is one of the most satisfying, soulful, exciting, inventive and highly personal tenors in jazz today."

- Tony Hall, British Jazz critic

“Looking back, it seems the quality and fervor of the music created a decade ago in Los Angeles was more significant than many of us then realized. Despite opportunities to hear some of these vigorous happenings via records, important musicians of the time were ignored partly because of a geographical handicap, and partly because lack of popular acceptance had driven much of their music underground. That the excitement of the period is not merely an hallucination induced by retrospect or nostalgia is proved beyond doubt with this reissue of The Fox [Contemporary S-7619;OJCCD-343-2]

In 1959, when it was recorded, Harold Land was one of the underrated, underground musicians gigging around Los Angeles. A soft-spoken man whose personality rarely suggests the incandescence of his instrumental sound….

His early influences were the big, warm tones of Coleman Hawkins and Lucky Thompson; later Charlie Parker's new concepts helped determine his direction....

Harold decided in 1954 to try his luck in Los Angeles. For several months there

were various odd jobs, none very rewarding.

The turning point came one night when Clifford Brown took his combo-leading partner, Max Roach, to hear Harold play in a session at Eric Dolphy's house. "Eric had known me since the San Diego days, and after I moved to L.A. we became good friends" Harold says. "He was beautiful. Eric loved to play anywhere, any hour, of the day or night. So did I. In fact, I still do!'

The unofficial audition led to Harold's being hired by Brown and Roach. As jazz night club audiences around the country were exposed to the freshness and vitality of Land's playing, he seemed to be well on his way; but in 1956 he had to leave the quintet and return to Los Angeles because of illness in the family.

If, during the balance of the 1950s, he had continued to tour with name groups, there is little doubt that his reputation would have been established sooner and much more firmly on an international level. Land is philosophical about it. "We were making progress in Los Angeles, even if nobody was aware of it. There wasn't much money, but we were having a lot of beautiful musical moments!'”-

- Leonard Feather, Jazz author, critic, record producer, insert notes to The Fox [Contemporary S-7619;OJCCD-343-2]

It seems that the only two people who did not lament tenor saxophonist Harold Land’s continuance with the initial version of the legendary quintet led by drummer Max Roach and trumpeter Clifford Brown were Harold and me.

When I asked Harold about his decision to quit the group and return to Los Angeles for family reasons, he said: “Do you know how often I get asked that question? I have no regrets. For the last 45 years I’ve been in the California sunshine near my family and friends. Going on the road is a drag, nothin’ but hard times. The work here has been all right over the years and I’m happy sleepin’ in my own bed at night.”

I really enjoyed having Harold’s unique tenor sax sound, a sound that was so different than many of the Lester Young inspired tones on the West Coast Jazz scene, within driving distance and it was always a gas to hear him play in Jazz clubs or concert venues as a member of Gerald Wilson or Oliver Nelson’s big bands or as the co-leader in groups he fronted with trumpeter Red Mitchell, vibist Bobby Hutcherson and trumpeter Blue Mitchell.

Harold Land was born in Houston, TX in 1928 but grew up in San Diego, and became interested in music while in high school; he began playing saxophone when he was about 16 years old. After gaining experience with local bands in San Diego he moved to Los Angeles, where he joined the quintet led by Clifford Brown and Max Roach as a replacement for Teddy Edwards. He was with this band for 18 months, but left to play with Curtis Counce (1956-8). Land then led his own groups, or shared leadership with Red Mitchell (1961-2) and Bobby Hutcherson (1967-71); in the 1950s and 1960s he also worked with Gerald Wilson. From 1975 to 1978 he led a quintet with Blue Mitchell, and thereafter has worked as a freelance, mainly in California but also touring overseas.

According to Mark Gardner in The New Grove Dictionary of Jazz:  “Land is a fluent modern stylist whose dry tone and individual manner of improvising at first owed little to the work of other musicians. In the late 1960s, however, his playing changed dramatically when he came under the influence of John Coltrane. His tone hardened and his phrasing became more brusque and jagged. His ability and daring are best displayed on his recordings as the leader of small groups including Carl Perkins (1958) and Elmo Hope (1959), and as a sideman with Thelonious Monk.”

We wanted to remember Harold on these pages with the following article by John Tynan who for many years was the West Coast regional editor for Downbeat magazine, because it is one of the earliest features written about Harold for a major Jazz magazine.

Sadly feature articles about Harold in Jazz publications were a rarity.

down beat

June 6, 1960

A VOICE IN THE WESTERN LAND

John Tynan

“Harold  Land, one of the  towering figures on contemporary-jazz tenor saxophone and standard-bearer of the new jazz on the west coast, isn't out to prove a thing to anybody but himself.

Living in Los Angeles since he left the Max Roach-Clifford Brown Quintet some four years ago, the quiet, serious Land has been content to take his chances with the rest of the jazz branch of Local 47, AFM, and take his gigs where he finds them. Currently leading a quintet at Los Angeles' Masque club, he is decidedly optimistic about the present state of modern jazz in the southern slice of the Golden State.

Since his Roach-Brown days, Land said, the music and the musicians in the L.A. area have taken an upward turn. "It has improved," he commented, "especially in recent months. The few new jazz clubs that have opened have helped a lot; also the jazz concerts we've had recently have done much to re-stimulate interest."

During the last couple of years Los Angeles has become notorious among musicians as a jazz graveyard where night-club work is concerned. Land, however, somehow has managed to work with reasonable consistency in this drought.

"Having a place to play makes a world of difference to the musician — because just playing at home just doesn't make it at all," he commented dryly. "The musicians of Los Angeles have had so few places to play jazz; that's been one the biggest holdbacks. It meant that the few sessions that were going on would be dominated by just the few cats who showed up early and this made the sessions less enjoyable for the rest.

"Also, this situation made it very hard to keep a group together."

Land is frank in admitting his inclination to take things for granted in the development of jazz in Los Angeles. "There have been important changes in the playing of local musicians," he said, "but being so closely involved with my own playing, possibly I've been inclined to take these changes in stride."

In Land's view, Los Angeles musicians generally "seem  more conscientious than they were five years ago." Why? "It's rather hard to say, but for one

thing, there are countless musicians being influenced by what they hear from the east coast."

And is this increasing influence restricted only to the Negro jazzmen?

"No, I can hear this influence in the playing of both white and colored musicians."

In Land's view, Miles Davis and his more recent associates have been the most important influences on jazz musicians generally in recent years, "Miles, 'Trane, Cannonball and the 'Rhythm Section' (Philly Joe Jones, Paul Chambers, and Red Garland) have been the main influence," he said.

Why?

"For one thing, it's in the way they work as a unit. This is outstanding. Then, too, each individual's playing is important. As a matter of fact, the individuals' influence has been the most important factor, in my opinion.

"You could possibly say that these are the most influential men in jazz today, as I see it."

While not exclusively signed with any record company, Land can count albums under his own name on Contemporary Records (Harold in the Land of

Jazz) and High Fidelity Records (The Fox). Moreover, he has played as side-man on more jazz LPs than he can count.

Today he sums up his aim succinctly: "I want to get said as much as I possibly can on the instrument in my own group or in any group where I could be happy. Or to be playing in a group where all the musicians would be completely in accord; to me this is the ultimate in playing."

"Yet," Land added with more than a suggestion of wistfulness, "that's only happened once—with the Max Roach-Clifford Brown Quintet. That was the happiest musical family I've ever been in. With Max, Clifford, Richie Powell, and George Morrow, every night was more exciting than the one before.

"It can happen again. But it hasn't happened completely as yet with the musicians I've been working with."

Land's search for the perfect empathy may well be as elusive as he contends, but observers have noted a remarkable musical rapport between the tenorist and the drummer with whom he apparently prefers to work, Frank Butler. Still, Land refuses to commit himself on this point for fear of offending other musicians.

Since his days with Roach and Brown, Land now feels that he has matured. "I have more to offer," he said. "I've learned a bit more since then."

For all his love of big-band sounds, he is happiest, he said, playing with small groups because of the blowing freedom this affords. But "a serious big band is beautiful," he remarked, "and I guess Gil Evans, Ernie Wilkins, and Quincy Jones are among my favorite arrangers. And don't leave out Gil Fuller and John Lewis and their charts for Dizzy Gillespie's big band years ago. This has been a long time ago, but age doesn't make any difference. They were good then, and they're still good."

Land is a typically west coast jazz son. Born in Houston, Texas, 31 years ago, he was reared and schooled in San Diego, Calif., which he left for Los Angeles eight years ago to seek his fortune. While pecuniary fortune may have eluded him thus far, he ranks today among the highest artistic earners in the top tenor bracket.”

On the following video, Harold is joined by Rolf Ericsson, trumpet, Carl Perkins, piano, Leroy Vinnegar, bass and Frank Butler, drums performing his original composition Smack Up.

Teddy Edwards – Jazz Tenor Saxophonist of Importance [From the Archives]

© -Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“Right from the beginning, Edwards’s recordings have been of consistently high quality, testimony to his likeable and no-nonsense approach. … Though he has had his ups and downs, Edwards’s relaxed, imperturbable manner has sustained him well; ‘steady with Teddy’ has been the watchword.”

- Richard Cook & Brain Morton, The Penguin Guide To Jazz on CD, 6^th Ed.

Sometimes I think that the “Los” in LOS ANGELES is an abbreviation for “Land of Obscure Saxophonists.”

How else to explain the relative lack of attention garnered by Harold Land, Sonny Criss, Curtis Amy, Jimmy Woods, Jack Montrose, and a number of other excellent saxophonists whose careers took place primarily in the City of Angels?

Teddy Edwards is another name that also seems to belong to this list of unheralded, Los Angeles-based saxophonists.

Thankfully, Les Koenig at Contemporary Records and Richard Bock at Pacific Jazz provided Teddy with a number of recording opportunities which helped document his excellence as a tenor saxophonist and composer.

In Teddy’s case, the initial reasons for his lack of public recognition may lie in the following explanation by Ted Gioia who writes:

“Although many West Coast musicians of Edwards's generation were beset by personal tragedy, few suffered more from pure bad luck. A series of recurring medical afflictions—gall bladder trouble as well as several oral surgeries necessitated by problems with his teeth—haunted Edwards throughout the 1950s, often sidelining him for months on end. When he was able to play, Edwards distinguished himself by being in the right place at almost the right time. At the start of the 1950s Edwards stood out as the most prominent member of the Lighthouse All-Stars, and his compo­sition "Sunset Eyes" was the band's most requested number. Yet right before the All-Stars' rise to fame through a series of widely heard record­ings, Edwards was dismissed by leader Howard Rumsey when a group of ex-Kenton players suddenly became available for active duty. Rumsey's decision was marked with eventual success, but Edwards was the unfortu­nate casualty of the affair. Nor was this all. In 1954, Edwards turned down an opportunity to go on the road with the Max Roach/Clifford Brown band because he had recently married and felt that the time was not right for an extended road engagement. The Roach/Brown band went on to be- come the most celebrated bop quintet of its day. Edwards never got an­other chance at such a high-profile gig. The tenorist's life during the hey­day of West Coast jazz is an extended account of just such missed opportunities and misfortunes.” [West Cost Jazz: Modern Jazz in California, 1945-1960, pp. 130-131].

Les Koenig, owner-operator of Contemporary Records, offered this overview in the insert notes to his Together Again!!!!  Contemporary album [Contemporary 7588; OJCCD-424-2] which features Teddy with his long-time musical associate and friend, trumpeter Howard McGhee:

“Edwards, …, continued to work in California, where musicians have long considered him to be one of the top tenor men in the country. However, it seems next to im­possible for a jazzman to make a national reputation on the West Coast. If Horace Greeley were passing out advice to jazzmen today, he'd have to say, "Go East, young man!" For personal reasons Teddy preferred to work closer to his home and family; and so, it is all the more remarkable that despite the geographical handicap Teddy is regarded as one of the very best tenor men by critics, musicians, and jazz fans at home and abroad. In 1960 and '61 he was active in the recording studios, and his Teddy's Ready! (Contemporary M3583, stereo S7583) received exceptional reviews. Stanley Robertson, who has followed Teddy's career for many years, wrote in the Los Angeles Sentinel, ‘Teddy Edwards must be considered one of the major voices in jazz.’

Bob Gordon had this to say about Teddy and Howard’s work on Together Again!!!!:

“Together Again remains a very satisfying album - it wears like a comfortable pair of sneakers. Howard McGhee and Teddy Edwards were at the cutting-edge of jazz when they first got together in the late forties. By 1961 they were considered in the mainstream rather than the avant-garde, but both had continued to progress and increase the mastery of their horns. Backed by an exceedingly able rhythm section [Phineas Newborn, Jr. on piano, Ray Brown on bass and Ed Thigpen on drums], they prove that good jazz, like a fine wine, improves with age.” [Jazz West Coast, p. 212] 

Writing in 1998 as the producer of the CD re-issue of Teddy’s Sunset Eyes Pacific Jazz album [CDP 94848]:

“Teddy Edwards is a superb tenor saxophonist whose probably best known for his Dial duets with Dexter Gordon, the live recording by the first incarnation of the Clifford Brown-Max Roach Quartet and decades of wonderful small group recordings under his own name. But his career includes big band and film studio work, arranging and even songwriting (Louis Jordan, Nancy Wilson and Lorez Alexandria are among those who've recorded his songs). At 74, he stills writing and playing beautifully.”

Victor's Vibes [From the Archives]

© -  Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

For many years, the late Milt Jackson, affectionately known as “Bags,” was heralded as the undisputed king of the vibraphone and most vibists accorded him their highest esteem and pointed to him as a major influence.

I, too, love his playing, especially in the context of the Modern Jazz Quartet.

But I’ve always had trouble with the notion of ranking Jazz musicians, voting for them in polls and comparing them as artists. I think it’s an absolute waste of time; a meaningless exercise.

Jazz artists work very hard to establish their own approach to the music and I would imagine that, as is the case with actors, writers and painters, they have a tendency to gravitate toward those artists whose work “speaks” to them.

What, then, are the standards that one has to meet to be rated as “better” than another artist?

As Aristotle once said: “Each of us is different with regard to those things we have in common.”

And so it is with Jazz musicians in general and, for the purpose of this feature, Jazz vibraphonists in particular. Everyone imitates and emulates while trying to establish their own voice on an instrument.

Vibes are particularly challenging to play uniquely because of the limitations inherent in how the sound is produced on them.

Bags’ influence was pervasive when it came to Jazz vibes. I’ve played the instrument a bit and I recognize the truth in this assertion because I, too, found myself playing Milt’s “licks” and “phrases.” They lay so easily on the axe. You drop you hands [mallets] on the bars and out they come.

Another reason why so many vibist sound like Bags may be because he played a lot of the same “licks” [musical expressions] or phrases over and over again.

A lot of Jazz musicians do this [some call them “resting points”], but one has to be careful with repetitive phrases because employing the same licks too often can become an excuse for not thinking [in other words, not being inventive].

The expression that is sometimes used when this happens is that the musician “mailed in” the solo.

Bags was one of the “Founding Fathers” of Bebop, he toured all over the United States and Europe with the MJQ and he made a slew of recordings with the group, with other artists as well as under his own name.

As a result, his style of vibes had a lot of exposure.

This exposure helped make Milt Jackson instantly recognizable as a major exponent of the bebop, blues-inflected style of playing Jazz vibes.

But for my money, no one has ever played the instrument more musically than Victor Feldman.

Bags’ influence is there in Victor’s style, but Victor is his own man and takes the instrument in a completely different direction than Milt.

There isn’t the repetitiveness nor for that matter the constant bebop and blues phrases, but rather, a more pianistic and imaginative approach, one that emphasizes longer inventions and a constant flow of new melodies superimposed over the chord changes.

Victor also emphasizes rhythm differently than the dotted eighth note spacing favored by Bags. As a result, Victor, begins and ends his phrases in a more angular fashion which creates more surprises in where he is going in his solos.

The starting points and pick-ups for Victors solos vary greatly because he is not just looking for places in the music to put tried-and-tested licks, he’s actually attempting to create musical ideas that he hasn’t expressed before.

Is what Victor is doing “better” than Bags? Of course not.  Is it different? Is it ever.

Fresh and adventurous. And exhilarating, too.

Jazz improvisation is the ultimate creative experience.

One doesn’t need any awards. You just can’t wait for the next time you solo so you can try soaring again.

To help give you the “flavor” of Victor Feldman’s marvelous creative powers as a Jazz vibist, we’ve put together a video montage of classic concept cars with a track that I think features him at his imaginative best.

This track has him performing his original composition Too Blue with Rick Laird on bass and Ronnie Stephenson on drums from his triumphant 1965 return to Ronnie Scott’s Club in his hometown of London [Jazz Archives JACD-053].

It runs a little over 8 minutes. You can hear the statement of the 12-bar blues theme from 0.00-0.22 minutes and again from 0.23-0.45 minutes. Each 12-bar theme closes with a bass “tag.”

Victor and Rick hook-up for a call-and-response interlude between 0:46-1:10 minutes before Victor launches into his first improvised chorus at 1:11 minutes.

He improvises seven choruses from 1:11-4:14 minutes before bassist Rick Laird takes four choruses from 4:14-5:46 minutes.

None of Victor’s choruses contains a repeated phrase or a recognizable Milt Jackson lick [phrase].

When Victor comes-back-in [resumes playing] at 5:46 minutes following Rick’s bass solo, if you listen carefully you can hear him using two mallets in his left hand to play 4-beats-to-the-bar intervals while soloing against this with the two mallets held in his right-hand.

He even throws in the equivalent of a big band-like “shout” chorus while trading fills with drummer Ronnie Stephenson beginning at 6:56 minutes.

The closing statement of the theme can be heard at 7:19 minutes ending with an “Amen” at 8:06 minutes.

When listening to Victor Feldman play Jazz on the vibraphone, one is hearing a true innovator at work. For him, making the next improvised chorus as original and as musically satisfying as possible was always the ultimate goal.  

It’s a shame that Jazz fans are not more familiar with his work on vibes. Having heard it on a regular basis for over twenty-five years, I can attest to the fact that it was something special. The only thing that Victor Feldman ever mailed in was a letter.

4

Jean “Toots” Thielemans: A Tasteful, Talented Treat [From the Archives]

© -  Steven A. Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“Thielemans recorded ‘Bluesette’ in 1961, after working in George Shearing’s quintet [since 1952]; his first hit had him playing guitar and whistling, but he subsequently became the pre-eminent harmonica player in Jazz, with a facility and depth of expression that rivals any conventional horn players.”

- Richard Cook and Brian Morton, The Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD, 6^th Ed.

“Belgian multi-instrumentalist Toots Thielemans’s ability as an improviser on the harmonica is unsurpassed.”

- Christopher Washburne

“I can say without hesitation that Toots is one of the greatest musicians of our time. He goes for the heart and makes you cry. We have worked together more times than I can count, and he always keeps me coming back for more. Toots, you will live forever.”

- Quincy Jones

Sometimes I like my Jazz to be uncomplicated.

No convoluted tune structures; no abstract harmonies with raised, augmented or diminished 9ths, 11ths or 13ths; no weird time signatures – just simple, easy to hear melodies.

Jazz that I can snap my fingers to with solos that I can readily memorize and whistle to myself.

I’m not referring to easy listening or “cool Jazz,” a modern form of the music that unendingly oscillates between two chords to the point of tedium and boredom.

The Jazz I’m talking about is a form of the music that is uncomplicated and straight-forward; produced more from the heart than the mind.

When I’m in such a mood, I often turn to Jean “Toots” Thielemans and he rarely disappoints.

Stunningly inventive, there is always a light and joyous touch to everything Toots plays.

Toots solo development uses melodic lines which are based on familiar materials including many allusions to themes from other songs.

His harmonica solos in particular just seem to float away, filled with an exuberance and rhythmic purity that you’d never expect to hear coming out of what some consider to be a “toy instrument.”

If, as Louis Armstrong says, “Jazz is who you are,” then Toots Thielemans must be one “happy, joyous and free” individual, because that what comes out in his music.

The details of Toots career are easily researched on the internet, but here’s an overview of his early years that may not be readily available.

It’s written by Gerry Macdonald and forms the introductory portion of the liner notes to the 1974 Captured Alive LP that he produced for his own label, Choice Records [Stereo CRS 1007].  It has since been reissued on CD as Images on Candid [71007].

“During the summer of 1951, I was playing a gig with my small group in a club north of Montreal. Between sets, Gordie Fleming (later to become Canada's star accordionist) and I were sitting at the bar listening to the music of the George Shearing Quintet coming over the ever-present (in those days) table radio next to the cash register. Suddenly, we heard a new sound; good grief, a harmonica with George Shear­ing! The tune was "Body and Soul," and in those few minutes Toots Thielemans made himself known to us.

A year or so later, I had moved to New York and there, alive and in person, at the old Downbeat Club (54th Street and 8th Avenue) was Toots with his harmonica, sit­ting in with a group of jazz all-stars.

I still couldn't quite believe what I heard, yet there it was. Even though one should pre­sumably just listen to the music, I remember being struck with the facility Toots had with such an "impossible" jazz instrument. It was, and remains, a joy to listen to this man interpret whatever musical piece he encounters—he seems unaware of the instrument as an obstacle. [Italics mine]

Toots Thielemans was born in Brussels, Belgium, April 29, 1922. His first musical exposure was accordion playing in his folks' cafe, so this was the instrument he chose at age three (how do you lift an accordion at age three?). At age 18 he started listening to jazz records and bought a harmonica as a hobby. Then a friend left a guitar at his house and he began trying Django Reinhardt choruses. Soon, according to the bio material he gave me, he "became good...!

In 1948 he came to the U.S. as a tourist and "sat in with cats on 52nd Street." An agent heard him, which led to an engage­ment with Benny Goodman in London and Europe. He emigrated to the U.S. in 1951, played around for a while and then joined George Shearing for six years.

It was in 1962 that Toots wrote "Bluesette." This tune has since become a standard, and Toot's own version, on which he whistles along with his guitar, is recognized by almost everyone, although many are not familiar with his name or his harmonica work. Since then, Toots has been freelancing in studios, being involved mostly with jingles and film music. Occa­sionally, he does a jazz date. …”

Toots passed away on August 22, 2016 at the age of 94, but thankfully he left us with quite a few “Jazz dates” and you can see many of these Jazz recordings in the slide montages that make up the following video tributes to Toots.

The first is “Toots In Portrait” on which he plays harmonica on Secret Love with Herbie Hancock, piano, Ron Carter, bass and Ronnie Zito, drums.

The second is entitled “Toots On Record” on which he plays guitar and whistles while performing his famous composition, Bluesette, with the Quincy Jones Orchestra.

Toots keeps his Jazz down-to-earth and, in so doing, makes it always fun to listen to, whatever the context.

Remembering Don Elliott [1926-1984]

© -Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.

“Don Elliott spread his talent across so many endeavors that he never received his due as an inventive Jazz artist. Elliott played trumpet, mellophone, and vibes, sang and acted.  He did all of that well-enough to work with George Shearing, Buddy Rich, Benny Goodman, Billy Taylor, and Teddy Wilson; record with Paul Desmond [and pianist Bill Evans]; appear in a Broadway musical; and collaborate in hit novelty recordings.”

- Orrin Keepnews

Looking back, there was a time when being able to play a pretty ballad was expected of every Jazz musician [drummers were coached to sit patiently through them while listening attentively and accompanying the proceedings with some quiet brushwork].

Some musicians took “pretty” to another level and made it downright beautiful.

Two such Jazz musicians were alto saxophonist Paul Desmond and multi-instrumentalist Don Elliott.

Each was a lyrical, sensitive and very expressive player and in combination they were exquisite. Both crafted solos that were witty, thoughtful and brimming with harmonic intelligence.

It was an inspired pairing, albeit a short-lived one.

The editorial staff at JazzProfiles wanted to remember Don on these pages with another of our early-in-their-career features which references the recording with Paul Desmond as something which hadn’t as yet occurred.

“'I Don't Want To Be Typed Says Versatile Don Elliott” - By Dom Cerulli

[January 1956 Down Beat]

“DON ELLIOTT, who plays any musical instrument that hasn't got reeds or strings, is afraid of being typed.

"I'm worried about this thing becoming a gimmick," he said between sets at Jazzarama in Boston. "Actually, I enjoy playing each instrument." During his stay, he played only the mellophone, vibes, and bongos.

Turn him loose on a big bandstand, and Elliott can hold his own on valve trombone, tuba, trumpet, piano, baritone horn, accordion, and if they're all spoken for ... he will probably sing.

The 29-year-old jazzman started musically on the accordion at the age of 7. At Somerville, N. J., high school he played mellophone and baritone horn. Later, in a dance band, he found that there were enough trumpet players, so he stuck with the mellophone.

A difficult enough instrument to play straight, the mellophone is a diaphragm-stretcher to swing. But Elliott bounces along with it and its tone, which lies somewhere between that of a trombone and a French horn.

"YOU WON'T believe this," he said, "but I got onto vibes because I had two trumpets. When I got out of the army in 1946, I had this pair of trumpets and a buddy of mine had two sets of vibes. So we swapped."

Following the swap, Don gigged around until landing a spot with a quartet—but as a singer. In '48 and '49, he was with Hi, Lo, Jack, and the Dame. He became a singer again for a recent Bethlehem record date, and plans to explore that field a bit more.

Eventually, Don would like to front a big band with what he terms "a sound of beautiful simplicity, if there's such a term."

Elliott had a band in 1953, but despite some agency interest, he was told he came along about 10 years too late. "But things seem to be picking up a bit as far as big bands go, and maybe someday I'll be able to put together a commercial but very interesting sounding dance band."

He has three favorite big bands, "Basie for jump, Thornhill for ballads, and Les Brown, in the middle."

RIGHT NOW, Don indicated that given his choice he would prefer to play concerts with his group. "I think any jazz musician prefers concerts. You start with the knowledge that the audience is there specifically to hear jazz. In some clubs, it's difficult to get across to the audience."

Elliott's immediate plans include cutting some fugues with altoist Paul Desmond and doing some woodshedding with his trumpet. ;

"That's my favorite horn," he said. "I've got to pick it up again one of these days."

Scooter Pirtle published an extremely thorough profile on Don’s career in The Middle Horn Reader. Here’s an excerpt after which you’ll find a video montage with Don performing Everything Happens to Me with Paul Desmond.

Don Elliott: He Was a Gentlemen, too

by Scooter Pirtle

Originally published in 1994 in “The Middle Horn Reader”

During his illustrious career, Don Elliott performed jazz as a vocal musician, vibraphonist, trombonist, trumpeter, flugelhornist and percussionist. He pioneered the art of multi-track recording, composed countless prize-winning advertising jingles, wrote music for hit Broadway shows, prepared music scores for motion pictures, and built a thriving production company. Incidentally, he was also the greatest mellophonist who ever lived.

The Early Years

Don Elliott was born Don "Helfman" in Somerville, New Jersey on October 21,1926.1 The son of a silent film theater organist and vaudevillian pianist, Don became a music student of his father at the age of four. Don's father, Albert, was somewhat of a sensation in Somerville. A gifted organist, he took pride in his ability to improvise musical backgrounds for silent films at the local movie palaces.

Don's first instrument was the piano accordion, a gift from his father. Albert realized the potential of his son and frequently informed Don's mother, Nettie, that Don would be famous someday. Tragically, Dan's father died of a heart attack in 1933 at the age of 36.

Don continued to use his natural music abilities throughout his early childhood by performing for various clubs and charity groups. By age 11, Don was a seasoned performer. Within a year he accepted his first professional "gig" playing trumpet at a New Year's Eve party.

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