Mel + Marty = Musical Magic [From The Archives]

This piece was originally published in 2010 but copyright issues blocked the accompanying video from being seen in many countries. For whatever reason/s, and with the continuing exception of Germany, which is served by a different distribution agreement, these restrictions have been lifted, so I thought I'd re-post the feature as the combination of Mel Torme's singing and Marty Paich's arranging have long been one of my favorite Jazz associations.

“The young Torme's voice was honey-smooth, light, limber, inef­fably romantic and boyish; and it's amazing how many of those qualities he kept, even into old age … Torme's rhythmic panache and tonal sweetness turn back the years.”

- Richard Cook & Brian Morton, The Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD.

“The one major singer who consistently sought to use the cool sound in his work …

was Mel Torme … [who was] inspired by the sound of the Miles Davis Nonet and the Gerry Mulligan Tentet, the two celebrated mini bands that had set off the cool reaction to bop’s heat. He and West Coast arranger Marty Paich put together a ten-piece unit patterned after both the Davis and Mulligan bands.

In a masterful series of sets like Mel Torme and The Marty Paich Dektette [Bethlehem] and Mel Torme Sings Shubert Alley [Verve], Torme and Paich brilliantly recast familiar show tunes into fresh, exciting new forms.”

- Will Friedwald in Bill Kirchner, ed., The Oxford Companion to Jazz 

“On the job, he [Marty Paich] became (in my estimation, of course) a U-Boat
Commander. On the job, the exact performance of his music was not just
desirable ... it was ordained. Quite often, Marty delivered a
passionate speech to whatever band was in front of him - having to do
with the importance of playing his music the only way possible - his
way. Which I'll add was unquestionably the right way. Usually as he
spoke, his voice would tighten and now and then a tremor could be
detected. It meant that much to him ... and I never encountered this
level of determination in anyone else I played for. Ever. And I
appreciated him all the more for it. Some of my colleagues, though,
didn't. Everybody considered him a gifted arranger, but some didn't
mind if they didn't get the call to work for him. I enjoyed every
minute of it ... even the speeches.”

-Trombonist, Milt Bernhart

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

After revisiting the music of Marty Paich in the context of the arrangements he prepared for Stan Kenton’s Orchestra, his work with alto saxophonist Art Pepper on the latter’s Art Pepper + 11 album and the charts he wrote for his own big band – we’ve done video tributes to all three – the editorial staff at JazzProfiles suddenly remembered that it had made a grand omission.

What about Marty’s writing for vocalist Mel Torme!?

Mel and Marty began their collaboration in the mid-1950s on a series of recordings for Bethlehem Records – most notably, Mel Torme’: Lulu’s Back in Town – on which Marty used his trademark prowess for taking a relatively small band and making it sound like a much larger orchestra.

The Torme’-Paich association produced musical magic in the sense that Marty’s arrangements personified in the public mind all that was hip, slick and cool in Mel’s vocal stylings.

Paich’s writing had a strong compatibility with Torme’s singing style. He had an uncanny way of producing arrangements that gave flight to Torme’s vocal acrobatics while at the same time keeping them from getting out-of-hand.

The partnership continued in effect during the early 1960’s when Mel moved to Verve. Their best work together at this label was on the Mel Torme’ Swings Shubert Alley about which Richard Cook and Brian Morton had this to say:

“This is arguably Torme's greatest period on record, and it cap­tures the singer in full flight. His range had grown a shade tougher since his 1940s records, but the voice is also more flexible, his phrasing infinitely assured, and the essential lightness of timbre is used to suggest a unique kind of tenderness. Marty Paich's arrangements are beautifully polished and rich-toned, the French horns lending a distinctive color to ensembles which sound brassy without being metallic. There may be only a few spots for soloists but they're all made to count, in the West Coast manner of the day. It's loaded with note-perfect scores from Paich and a couple of pinnacles of sheer swing in 'Too Darn Hot' (a treatment Torme kept in his set to the end) and 'Just In Time', as well as a definitive 'A Sleepin' Bee'.”

You can hear the musical magic that the duo of Torme and Paich produce on the Whatever Lola Wants audio track to the following video tribute to Mel. Throughout, listen for how Mel brings the fictional Lola to life with his phrasing of the tune's lyrics. There's disdain and more than a touch of pity in his voice. It's like he's saying to the young man about to be ensnared in Lola's clutches - "You don't stand a chance."  The genius is in the details; Mel's not just singing the song, he's portraying it.

Be sure and also listen for:

[1] Marty’s use of a musical reference to Dizzy’s Manteca in the intro

[2] Art Pepper’s roaring alto solo at 1:12 minutes

[3] trombonist Frank Rosolino’s quote of Dizzy’s A Night in Tunisia at the beginning of his solo at 1:33

[4] the subtle key change when Mel comes back in at 1:53 minutes with Marty’s use of a riff based on Bernie’s Tune in the background

[5] the one-man, three-note fanfare that Mel employs at 3:07 minutes to end the tune; not many vocalist could pull this off.

The following insert notes by to Mel Torme’ Swings Shubert Alley by Lawrence D. Stewart insert notes reveal the amount of thought, knowledge and sensitivity that went into the development of this recording [paragraphing modified].

“Geometry insists that the whole is equal to the sum of its parts; but when the proposition is Mel Torme plus Marty Paich, the result is far more than a combination of singular talents. Torme and Paich have made over half a dozen records together, always experi­menting in the balancing of this jazz equation. But the formula they have uncovered for this set is the most astonishing yet.

Torme does not conceive of himself as a soloist with a background accom­paniment. Instead, he treats his voice as one more instrument in the band and achieves his effects by balance, counter-rhythm and even harmonic dissonances, which ring against these instrumental changes. "Most singers want to finish singing and then have the band come in for a bar and a half—and then they're on again," observes Paich. "But Mel's always saying 'Let the band play — let the band play.' It’s quite unselfish from his standpoint and it doesn't overload the album. It makes for good listening." It does even more than that: It gives a totally new conception to some rather traditional music.

Shubert Alley is the home of stand­ards, and on this album we hear a dozen from as many shows of the past two decades. Broadway show orches­trations have a certain sameness which is effective in the theatre — where attention is directed toward the action on stage — but sometimes makes rather routine listening at home. (In­deed, does anyone ever hear an Origi­nal Cast album and not have his thoughts drawn to the footlights rather than to the song?) The first problem in choosing the numbers for this set was to pick tunes which had a jazz potential. Paich remarked, "When we picked the tunes we chose those geared not only to serve Mel as vocalist but to serve instrumentally as well."

"Too Close for Comfort" (Mr. Won­derful, 1956; music and lyrics by Jerry Bock, Larry Holofcener and George Weiss): A fine introduction to the set, with its rhythmic treatment, its stac­cato emphasis on rhymes, and its building to a sustained climax with harmonic changes. "Once in Love with Amy" (Where's Charley?, 1948; with mu­sic and lyrics by Frank Loesser): Origi­nally Ray Bolger soft-shoed this sing-along ballad to ecstatic audi­ences. Besides recreating this song-and-dance situation, Torme works up some melodic improvisations for the lyric.

"A Sleepin' Bee" (House of Flowers, 1954; music by Harold Arlen, lyrics by Truman Capote and Harold Arlen): This melody began as one of composer Arlen's famous "jots." He had thought of developing it for Judy Garland's A Star Is Born, but the tune was put aside and soon he himself was working on its lyric. "On the Street Where You Live" (My Fair Lady, 1956; music by Frederick Loewe, lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner): Torme and Paich take us for a fast trot down this famed thoroughfare. In the show—as on this recording — the song enthusiastically announced Freddy's love for Eliza Doolittle. So successfully did Freddy plead his case that Shaw himself in­sisted that it was to be Freddy, and not Professor Henry Higgins, who was to win the girl.

"All I Need Is the Girl" (Gypsy, 1959; music by Jule Styne, lyr­ics by Stephen Sondheim): For this tap-and-song specialty, Torme has con­cocted some up-dated lyrics, with ech­oes of Max Shulman and Ira Gershwin. "Just in Time" (Bells Are Ringing, 1956; music by Jule Styne, lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green): Torme establishes this contemporary stand­ard to the accompaniment of bass and drums; then the band comes in, and soon Torme is spinning out improvisa­tions upon this insistently simple me­lodic line.

"Hello, Young Lovers" (The King and I,1951; music by Richard Rodgers, lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II): Conceived as a bittersweet ballad, this song here gets sped up as Torme and Paich give it new emphasis and phras­ing. "The Surrey with the Fringe on Top" (Oklahoma!, 1943; music by Ri­chard Rodgers, lyrics by Oscar Ham­merstein II): The song itself may have been in the tradition of "The Donkey Serenade" with its jog-jog tempo and repetitive melody, but the show created its own genre: the American folk operetta. "Old Devil Moon" (Finian s Rainbow, 1947; music by Bur­ton Lane; lyrics by E. Y. Harburg): This song takes its title from a phrase in "Fun to be Fooled," a song which E. Y. Harburg had written with Ira Gershwin and Harold Arlen for 1934's Life Begins at 8:40. Paich now gives this quasi-Irish ballad a South American beat.

"What­ever Lola Wants" (Damn Yankees, 1955; music and lyrics by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross): As handmaiden to the Devil, Gwen Verdon undulated this song to acclaim on both the stage and screen. Torme has worked in his own allusion to Nabokov and worked over the song to advantage. "Too Darn Hot" (Kiss Me, Kate, 1948; music and lyrics by Cole Porter): Here we have a bril­liant arrangement, excitingly enunci­ated, with all the seldom-heard lyrics; and hear that repeated title and key changes which ever set it off.

"Lonely Town" (On the Town, 1944; music by Leonard Bernstein; lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green): A song which has never lost its memorable evocation of World War II New York, this number can also be a contempo­rary supper-club lament, as Torme and Paich prove in this final demonstration of their facility with jazz equation.

LAWRENCE D. STEWART”

Personnel: Mel Torme, vocals, with the Marty Paich Orchestra. Orchestra includes Al Porcino, Stu Williamson, trumpets; Frank Rosolino, trombone; Vince DeRosa, French horn; Red Callender, tuba; Art Pepper, alto sax; Bill Perkins, tenor sax; Bill Hood, bari­tone sax; Marty Paich, piano; Joe Mondragon, bass; Mel Lewis, drums.

Arranged and conducted by Marty Paich.

Recorded January 21, February 4 and 11, 1960 in Los Angeles.

Produced by Russ Garcia. Recording Engineer: Val Valentin

Jazz Lab- Donald Byrd and Gigi Gryce "In The Laboratory"

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

One thing often leads to another when the editorial staff at JazzProfiles goes hunting through its extensive library and recording collection to prepare these features.

Inevitably, we get so caught up listening to the music of a proposed feature such that other ideas about related postings come to mind.

This is exactly what happened while preparing a general overview of Noal Cohen and Michael Fitzgerald Second Edition of Rat Race Blues: The Musical Life of Gigi Gryce.

Out came the Gigi Gryce recordings and while listening to them I was reminded of my particular fondness for the LPs that Gigi made with The Jazz Lab, a quintet that he co-led with trumpeter Donald Byrd.

When we returned to Noal and Michael’s “Gigi Book,” here’s what we found about The Jazz Lab’s short-lived but amazingly productive existence.

“BY THE MEASURE OF RECORDING ACTIVITY, at least, Gryce's jazz career peaked in 1957. This would be his most productive period nor only as a leader, but as a sideman and writer on several recording sessions of high quality and great importance. It was at this time also that he would solidify his group conception of jazz, utilizing as a unifying element his series of recordings as co-leader of a quintet with Donald Byrd. And having entered the elite group of New York musicians capable of filling roles in a variety of settings, he was now getting sufficient work to ensure financial security. …

A very important event occurred in early 1957 when Gryce and Donald Byrd decided to join forces and co-lead the Jazz Lab ensemble. Seven years Gryce's junior, Byrd (1932-2013) relocated from his native Detroit to New York permanently in 1955, and soon thereafter was ensconced in the jazz scene, working and recording with nearly all of the hard bop stalwarts including Jackie McLean, John Coltrane, George Wallington, Art Blakey, and Horace Silver. He shared with Gryce a formal musical training, having received a Bachelor of Music degree from Wayne State University in 1954. Byrd also studied in Paris with Nadia Boulanger (1963) and later became an educator, obtaining advanced degrees from Manhattan School of Music and Columbia University. At the time of his death [2013] he was teaching at Delaware State University as a distinguished artist-in-residence.

Fluent and lyrical, Byrd's style, like that of Art Farmer before him, fit beautifully with the conception of Gryce, spinning long, graceful lines in his solos. His facility at very fast tempi was notable, and in general his approach was somewhat more aggressive than that of Farmer, but not to the extent that it conflicted with or overshadowed that of Gryce. Furthermore, Byrd had an interest in writing and would contribute both originals and arrangements of standard tunes to the group's repertoire.

The name "Jazz Lab" might suggest an esoteric or academic approach to ensemble performance, but in reality the music the band offered was most accessible. It consisted of original compositions (many taken from Gryce's publishing company) and cleverly reworked standards. Blues were an important component of the repertoire. Gryce, who appeared to be the more dominant musical force of the two co-leaders, summed up the philosophy the band espoused:

The Modern Jazz Quartet will come to a club or concert and play very soft subtle music, and then Blakey will come around like thunder. We're trying to do both, and a few other things he-sides. Insofar as I can generalize, our originals and arrangements concentrate on imaginative use of dynamics and very strong rhythmic and melodic lines. We try to both give the listener something of substance that he can feel and understand and also indicate to the oriented that we're trying to work in more challenging musical forms and to expand the language in other ways.

One advantage, we hope, of the varied nature of our library, which is now over a hundred originals and arrangements, is that in the course of a set, almost any listener can become fulfilled. If he doesn't dig one, he may well dig the next because it will often be considerably different. Several people write for us in addition to Donald Byrd, myself, and others within the group. We have scores by Benny Golson, Ray Bryant, and several more.

A point I'm eager to emphasize is that the title, Jazz Lab, isn't meant to connote that we're entirely experimental in direction. We try to explore-all aspects of modern jazz—standards, originals, blues, hard swing, anything that can be filled and transmuted with jazz feeling. Even our experimentations are quite practical; they're not exercises for their own sake. They have to communicate feeling. For example, if we use devices like counterpoint, we utilize them from inside jazz. We don't go into Bach, pick up an invention or an idea for one, and then come back into jazz. It all stays within jazz in feeling and rhythmic flow and syncopation. In any of our work in form, you don't get the feeling of a classical piece. This is one of the lessons I absorbed from Charlie Parker. I believe that one of the best — and still fresh — examples of jazz counterpoint is what Charlie did on "Chasing the Bird."

We want to show how deep the language is; in addition to working with new forms, we want to go back into the language, show the different ways the older material can be formed and re-formed. We want to have everything covered. My two favorite musicians among the younger players may give a further idea of what I believe. Sonny Rollins and Benny Golson are not playing the cliches, and they play as if they have listened with feeling and respect to the older men like Herschel Evans, Chu Berry, and Coleman Hawkins. They're not just hip, flashy moderns.

In its brief existence of barely a year, the Jazz Lab quintet utilized some of the finest rhythm section accompanists available: pianists Tommy Flanagan, Wynton Kelly, Hank Jones, and the underappreciated Wade Legge (1934-1963), a great talent who passed away at the age of only 29; bassists Wendell Marshall and Paul Chambers; and drummers Art Taylor and Osie Johnson. During this period, the Jazz Lab recorded for no fewer than five different labels, at thirteen sessions, producing a total of six LPs, all of which helped to establish a high standard for ensemble performance within the hard bop genre.'

On February 4, 1957, a landmark jazz recording took place, the debut of the Donald Byrd-Gigi Gryce Jazz Lab on Columbia Records [CL998], the most prestigious label in the business. At this time it was the label of Dave Brubeck, Miles Davis, and Duke Ellington. The Jazz Lab was signed just after Columbia dropped Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers upon completion of three albums, the first of which Byrd had participated in. Gryce returned to the nonet instrumentation (the working Jazz Lab quintet augmented by four additional horns) to reprise three compositions from earlier sessions. The fledgling Signal label on which Gryce had recorded in 1955 would soon be history, and Gryce was apparently hoping to capitalize on the distribution and publicity advantages now available through his association with a large, well-established record company.

To this end, "Speculation" was recorded for the third time in two years in very much the same format as the original version but with some modifications in the solo patterns. Now Byrd, Gryce, and pianist Tommy Flanagan each take an introductory chorus to begin the proceedings, but Gryce's solo following the theme is only two choruses as opposed to four in the earlier version. This is unfortunate since his playing is now more assertive and developed, although still very much in the Charlie Parker mold in this blues setting. In general, solo space on the nonet tracks is limited, probably because of Gryce's desire to include as much material as possible.

"Smoke Signal" is also performed using the same basic arrangement as on the Signal date but in a slightly shorter version wherein Gryce and Byrd split a chorus, the piano solo is omitted, and Art Taylor's drum feature is only a half chorus versus Kenny Clarke's earlier full-chorus outing. This track was not released with the original LP, Don Byrd-Gigi Gryce Jazz Lab, but appeared for the first time on a Columbia anthology entitled Jazz Omnibus (and not on CD until 2006) along with selections from many other artists associated with that label, including Louis Armstrong, Dave Brubeck, J.J. Johnson, Erroll Garner, Miles Davis, and Art Blakey.

Gryce's fourth recording of "Nica's Tempo" borrows elements from the Oscar Pettiford chart but features a new and attractively voiced introduction. The soloists, who again take only one chorus each, are the composer (in fine form), Byrd, Flanagan, and Taylor.

The very next day the quintet recorded two tracks, again for Columbia. Gryce's arrangement of "Over the Rainbow" is typical of the jazz Lab approach to standards, fresh yet accessible. This 1939 chestnut is transformed from a ballad into a swinging medium-tempo piece in which the melody has been reformulated rhythmically and embellished harmonically to provide a very appealing and memorable frame for the improvisations. Byrd, Gryce, and Flanagan each provide two choruses, while bassist Wendell Marshall plays one.

In the same lyrical vein, a second version of "Sans Souci" was recorded, this time at a faster tempo than in 1955 and now featuring Flanagan's celeste in the introduction and coda. Gryce utilized this instrument more and more during 1957 sessions for a different orchestral color (it was probably only available at the better recording studios). The pianist lays out or "strolls" during the first of Gryce's two solo choruses, a practice commonly employed by hard bop ensembles of this period to offer some variety and tension to performances. The routine conforms to the 1955 Prestige version with Byrd and Flanagan each taking two choruses, and the same shout variation leads to Marshall's solo which continues for another chorus. The final track of the first Columbia Jazz Lab LP was recorded a few weeks later (March 13) and was yet another return to earlier material, this time "Blue Concept," in its third incarnation. Wade Legge was back on piano in the quintet. Always conscious of form and eager to avoid a haphazard jam-session approach, Gryce updated the Prestige version with shout figures behind the horn soloists and an interlude incorporating "The Hymn," made famous by Charlie Parker.

On March 13, 1957, Gryce returned to the nonet instrumentation to record the very first version of Benny Golson's touching tribute to Clifford Brown, "I Remember Clifford," arranged by the composer, as well as the waltz by Randy Weston, "Little Niles," dedicated to Weston's son. Gryce's playing on all the Columbia sessions is especially robust and consistent, and his solo on the Weston piece displays his most soulful traits. Jimmy Cleveland has a special fondness for these Columbia sessions:

“Yeah, they're great. I thought they were just out of sight. The personnel was great, you know. That's the other thing too. He made sure he got the right kind of guys to work together great and get the concept that he’s looking for.””

The following video montage features The Jazz Lab on Gigi’s An Evening in Casablanca which can be heard on the group’s second Columbia LP - Modern Jazz Perspective [CL 1058]. Here’s how Gigi described the structure of the tune in Nat Hentoff’s liner notes:

“While with Lionel Hampton's band a few years ago, Gigi played North Africa, including Casablanca, and while still there, excerpts from what later turned out to be An Evening In Casablanca began forming into a song. "I guess," he adds, "you could call the introduction Arabian-like, It's also an attempt to describe musically what I'd seen and felt. It had been the warm part of the year; it was dusty; the winds were blowing; and yet it was relaxed. It's based on a minor key and ends in major and some of the inner harmonic workings are a little unorthodox. The first statement is 24 bars; there's an 8-bar bridge; and then a final 14. We do another thing differently here in that we switch parts. After the introduction, the trumpet takes the melody while the alto plays the moving harmony part in the background. At the bridge, the alto takes melody and the trumpet plays the background. The alto keeps the melody from the bridge throughout the latter part of the return of the theme. Then there's an interlude reminiscent of the introduction followed by a piano solo. The trumpet takes the bridge of the piano solo ad lib and the alto freely improvises the last statement of the them toward the end of which the horns come together for a retard ending."

Quintetto Basso Valdambrini: A Tribute

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

Having been raised in California during an era when the West Coast Jazz style of Jazz was still predominant, this approach to the music with its emphasis on composition, harmonically blended front lines, elaborate counter-melodies and easy, loping swing has always been among my favorites.

It would appear that I am not alone in this regard as over the years this style of "cool school Jazz" influenced many Jazz musicians in Scandinavia, Holland, France and Germany and was a major factor in the development of the samba-lite bossa nova music that originated in Brazil.

Because of my fondness for it, I'm always on the lookout for other groups who play Jazz in this manner.

Thanks to a close friend who hipped me to their recordings, I became aware of an Italian Jazz Quintet led by trumpeter Gianni Basso and tenor saxophonist Oscar Valdambrini that sounds as though they could have stepped in for Howard Rumsey's Lighthouse All-Stars without missing a beat [bad pun intended].

There's more about the group and its music in the following review by Andrew Cartmel which appeared in the London Jazz News, Saturday, December 20, 2014

Basso Valdambrini Quintet – Fonit H602-H603
(Rearward RW154LP. Double LP. Review by )

"The small groups co-led by tenor sax player Gianni Basso and trumpeter Oscar Valdambrini were the most celebrated jazz units to emerge from Italy in the late 1950's and early 60's. First rising to prominence in Milan, under the name The Italian Sextet, Basso actually came from Asti (where they make such damn fine wine) while Valdambrini was born in Turin. They played the San Remo and Lyon jazz festivals and distinguished themselves in Armando Trovajoli’s big band before reverting to their own quintet. Working in a West Coast and hard bop idiom they held a long term residence in Milan which was successful enough to attract Verve Records in the USA, who issued a Basso-Valdambrini album in their International Series in 1959. The following year Basso and Valdambrini released a classic album Walking in the Night on RCA Italy. In 1962, operating as a sextet, they won a contest as ‘The Best Modern Jazz in Italy’ and toured the USA and recorded another RCA album under this banner. All these excellent albums went out of print and became collectors items. But in recent years they have resurfaced, first as Japanese reissues, and then in their native Italy.

While the back catalogue of Basso-Valdambrini’s most famous titles is now in pretty healthy shape, the Rearward/Schema label (based, appropriately enough, in Milan) has pulled off a real coup by unearthing some extremely rare library recordings by the Quintet. Library music, often performed by top musicians, is an anonymous genre designed to be used, uncredited, by TV and radio programs who don’t want to go to the trouble and expense of commissioning bespoke compositions. The recordings here were first released as two vinyl albums on the Milanese Fonit Cetra label, with generic covers and the inscrutable designations H602 and H603. Their subtitles are more enlightening: Stile: Pop-Jazz and Stile: Californiano (the ‘pop jazz’ is actually closer to a soul jazz feel). Recorded in 1970, these sessions are reportedly the last performances of the Basso-Valdambrini Quintet. They are certainly the rarest.

What is most striking about this music is the spirit with which Basso and Valdambrini and their rhythm section approach the project. These anonymous recordings — never, as far as they knew, destined to be linked with their names — are performed with as much conviction as anything they ever did. In fact, they play their hearts out. Plinius is reminiscent of Oliver Nelson’s classic The Blues and the Abstract Truth in the horn arrangements and the general balance of the instruments; it’s a tight knit blues vehicle with a driving, rolling beat. Subtle and deceptively complex drum patterns come courtesy of Lionello Bionda while Basso’s sax offers a taut commentary with Valdambrini shadowing him like a Siamese twin.

Maglione (‘Sweater’) also evokes Nelson’s masterwork, with gorgeous hard edged tenor which hands over to Valambrini’s virile trumpet and skirling scales on the piano from Ettore Righello. The abrupt, instant ending is audacious and breathtaking. Invertime pays homage to vintage Miles Davis in Valdambrini’s trumpet approach while on the free jazz outing El Gato (‘The Cat’), Basso conjures the spirit of Coltrane.

In the Stile: Californiano sessions, Gold Mine has a jaunty but laidback Jazz at the Lighthouse atmosphere, a mood which continues with Glaucus in its Chet Baker feel and E’ Molto Facile (‘And Very Easy’). Pick Up provides a bright barrage of trumpet, skipping piano and a Dizzy Gillespie rhythmic riffing. On The Jolly Basso’s tenor is darkly emphatic, with a lovely burnished, glowing tone. Ettore Righello contributes agile, methodical, story-telling piano cushioned by Giorgio Azzolini’s bass until unison sax and trumpet take over, waving the banner of the melody.

Behind this less than alluring title lies an exciting reissue for fans of Italian jazz. What were once impossibly rare and expensive records are available again in a fine sounding double vinyl set which comes complete with a free CD."

Rat Race Blues: The Musical Life of Gigi Gryce - 2nd Ed.

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

“In the few short years Gigi Gryce lived in New York, it seemed just about every important jazz musician knew him. This was inevitable because of his ability as an alto saxophonist and an extremely creative writer. Many times, as the new boy in town, I was completely thrilled when visiting his apartment and Coleman Hawkins or Art Blakey or Max Roach or Howard McGhee or Hank Jones or others would call. I wanted to be in on the conversation so badly that the only thing I could think of to say was, "Tell him I said hello!" Of course, only a few actually knew who I was at the time. Gigi, knowing this, indulged me nevertheless.

He came to New York with bundles of music under his arms and even more in his mind. He was an organizer of the highest magnitude and quickly gained a reputation for it. When people—musicians, club owners, entrepreneurs—wanted quality jazz underscored with quality business, they often included Gigi in their calls. Although a graduate of the Boston Conservatory, he chose not to teach school in those early days because of devoting full time to writing and playing and becoming a well-informed business man in the marketplace. In fact, he and I later became partners in two publishing companies. Though he did not formally teach in any university then, he was always teaching. He was didactic by nature and could not envision life without intuitively teaching at every opportunity. I do not infer, however, that he was aggressive or arrogant in this. In a quite natural way, he lovingly and mercifully shared all the information he had stored in his capacious mind.”...

After perusing the contents of Rat Race Blues: The Musical Life of Gigi Gryce, the reader will never ever find Gigi Gryce relegated to the two-dimensional medium of vinyl discs and CDs only, but he will become as real as anyone we've ever known in life. Let's be glad that there was a musician like Gigi Gryce, and let's be glad that there were people like Noal Cohen and Michael Fitzgerald who had enough conviction and vision to recall Gigi's plethoric life with the aid of their minds, hearts, and pens. Noal, Michael— I salute you.”

- Benny Golson, tenor saxophonist, composer-arranger bandleader

Noal Cohen and Michael Fitzgerald are a couple of brave guys.

Not only have these courageous explorers signed on to navigate the dangerously obscure currents of the “Sea of Jazz History,” but in seeking to uncover the hidden island that is the biographical life of one “Gigi Gryce,” they have also volunteer to compile a discography of his recordings. Each a monumental task in-and-of-itself!

All metaphorical kidding aside, given the woeful and largely anecdotal information that exists about most major Jazz figures, not only have Noal and Michael taken on the huge task of writing a Jazz biography about a musician who was not particularly well-known outside of select Jazz circles, they have somehow managed to compile an excellent discography of his recordings, many of which were made for record companies who kept poor records at best, if they kept any at all!

The musician is question is alto saxophonist and bandleader Gigi Gryce 1925-1983 and the book is entitled Rat Race Blues: The Musical Life of Gigi Gryce [2nd edition.

Noal and Michael have assumed distribution responsibility for the second and subsequent editions of the book and you can locate more about them as well as order information by visiting this site.

What Noal and Michael set out to do and how they set out to do it are fully explained in the following excerpts from the book’s preface.

“THIS book is the result of nearly a decade of serious research and half a century of casual interest. It slowly came together as we became aware of Gigi Gryce's efforts, efforts scattered across many classic albums. Although his career was brief, lasting only a decade, he seemed to be associated with the greatest, most creative artists in jazz and his writing and playing were unique and readily identifiable.

Never before has there been a thorough and exhaustive look at the entire oeuvre of Gigi Gryce, which numbered over a hundred recording sessions, most of them issued commercially. During his lifetime he was the subject of a chapter in two books (Raymond Horricks's These Jazzmen of Our Time and Robert Reisner's The Jazz Titans), and since his death he has only figured as an auxiliary to the career of Clifford Brown and as one-of-many in the school of lyrical hard bop composers. Almost no writing existed that evaluated his career, his many compositions, and his place in the history of jazz. What did exist perhaps covered one aspect but ignored several others. Only when examined in full could the range of his musical development be seen and properly assessed.

Even before beginning work on this project it was apparent that there were contradictions and errors in the biographical details and in credits and titles of compositions. We worked to verify or disprove these definitively by using multiple sources. In digging deeper, we learned that Gryce's birth and death dates have regularly been misreported and that no published account of his life was without some kind of misinformation.

"So, whatever happened to Gigi Gryce?" was a frequent question we heard, not only from fans but also from some of the musicians who were close to him in the 1950s. Rumors were rampant and, if truth be told, Gryce himself contributed to the confusion. While this book cannot clear up the entire mystery, it will certainly present the clearest and most accurate account of his post-jazz life available at this time. It should be noted, however, that these years are not the focus of the book, which is concerned with the composer and performer.

Any biography of a musician must necessarily deal with that artist's recorded legacy and a complete discography was begun. This is the only comprehensive discography of Gigi Gryce ever to have been attempted, although general discographers (Raben, Bruyninckx, Lord) included the vast majority of sessions to one extent or another. Items were added and corrections made up until weeks before submitting the manuscript for publication. Items that had been issued but never documented were included and, in most cases, new information was added to amend the earlier work. An international community of record collectors supplied rare recordings and information relating to foreign issues.

One of the first thoughts regarding research strategy was to interview the musicians who knew and worked with Gryce. This logical idea led to compiling a list of survivors based on the most accurate discography. Added to this list were family members and then friends, co-workers, and acquaintances. The period with which we were primarily concerned was the years 1953—1963 and in the intervening decades a number of the participants have passed away. Even as we were conducting our research and writing the text of the first edition, we learned of the deaths of several important colleagues: Art Taylor (1995), Johnny Coles (1996), Gerry Mulligan (1996), Walter Bishop, Jr. (1998), Betty Carter (1998), Jaki Byard (1999), Art Farmer (1999), Milt Jackson (1999), Melba Liston (1999), Ernie Wilkins (1999), Al Grey (2000), Milt Hinton (2000), Alan Hovhaness (2000), Jerome Richardson (2000), Stanley Turrentine (2000), JJ. Johnson (2001), John Lewis (2001), and Makanda Ken Mclntyre (2001). Three of Gryces sisters also passed away during this time: Kessel Grice Jamieson (1997), Elvis Grice Blanchard (1999), and Harriet Grice Combs (1999). Regrettably, we were unable to communicate with some of them and, of course, these missed opportunities can never be regained. Some other subjects declined to be interviewed, and some were impossible to contact (though we certainly did try). In the end, we were fortunate to record over seventy-five conversations specifically on the topic of Gigi Gryce and his music.

Each of these presented new information and interesting anecdotes. We have tried in many cases to preserve in the text the actual words of the interviews. In the tradition of earlier books like Hear Me Talkin’ to Ya, this has elements of an oral history, but here the stories of the participants share the page with retrospection, critique, and our follow-up research which attempts to support and clarify the quotes. While neither of us ever met Gryce, we hope that through the words of those who knew him, something of him may be conveyed to future readers. (The code for each quoted interview is listed in a table.)

Another avenue of research involved going through the periodicals and literature with a fine-tooth comb. Sometimes even the smallest mention would eventually lead to a major discovery, particularly when several items were used in conjunction with each other, and with the interviews and photographic contributions. The bibliography included here does not detail all of these, but covers the publications that contain significant coverage related to Gryce s work and the world in which he operated.

Although this book is not targeted for musicians only, a great deal of examination was conducted on Gryces music, involving transcriptions and study of copyright deposits at the Library of Congress. It is hoped that any musical discussion here will be accessible to all readers. We anticipate that the printed compositions preface of Gigi Gryce will finally be made available in the near future and this will certainly generate more interest among the musical community.

We are eager to share our knowledge and enthusiasm and encourage future researchers to contact us with questions or new information. This has been a labor of love and although publication here brings some sense of finality, there will continue to be discoveries that will complete the picture of Gigi Gryce as man, musician, and teacher.

Addendum for the Second Edition

As predicted, further discoveries have indeed been made in the twelve years since the first edition was published. In many cases, these have been the result of the first edition's existence. Other new information has become known as a result of new digital research tools.

We have been able to pinpoint the timing of Gryce's mysterious trip to Paris in 1952, and we have gained access to materials that were previously unavailable to us, including unissued recordings as well as the full score of a large scale classical work that Gryce composed during his conservatory studies. Finally, having been able, at last, to identify and interview students in Gryce's classes during his twenty years as a teacher in New York City (as Basheer Qusim, the name he used during this period) has provided further insight into his methods as an educator. These discoveries and others now provide an even more complete study of this fascinating but often inscrutable individual.

The demand for Gryce's music continues to grow, and happily, it has become available. For the music student and professional, a number of Gryce's compositions have been published in lead sheet form thanks to the efforts of Don Sickler at Jazzleadsheets.

In sadness we must note that since publication of the first edition, we lost additional colleagues and family members, many of whom had provided valuable information: Valerie Grice Claiborne (2002), Henri Renaud (2002), Idrees Sulieman (2002), Mal Waldron (2002), Louis Victor Mialy (2003), Edwin Swanston (2003), Rev. Jerome A. Greene (2004), Walter Perkins (2004), Clifford Solomon (2004), Mort Fega (2005), Raymond Horricks (2005), Lucky Thompson (2005), Bruce Wright (2005), Don Butterfield (2006), Clifford Gunn (2006), Jack Lazare (2006), Bob Weinstock (2006), Art Davis (2007), Esmond Edwards (2007), Norman Macklin (2007), Cecil Payne (2007), Max Roach (2007), Harold Andrews (2008), Jimmy Cleveland (2008), Daniel Pinkham (2008), Dick Katz (2009), Mat Mathews (2009), Danny Bank (2010), Hank Jones (2010), Benny Powell (2010), Fred Baker (2011), Sam Rivers (2011), Teddy Charles (2012), Eleanor Gryce (2012), Hal McKusick (2012), Donald Byrd (2013), Donald Shirley (2013), Ed Shaughnessy (2013), Ben Tucker (2013), and Horace Silver (2014).

Lastly, we have made a significant decision regarding the revised and expanded discography and appendixes. These will not be found herein but rather online at https.www.gigigrycebook.com Our reasons for doing this stem from the following considerations:

1. The files can be updated regularly as new information and corrections are discovered or reported to us.

2. Online publication allows the incorporation of more tabulated information in an easily viewable format that is impractical with a print version. In this regard, it should be noted that the discography has now been compiled using Steve Albin's BRIAN database application, a major breakthrough in the storage and display of discographical information (http://www.jazzdiscography.com).

So while this new approach may seem an inconvenience at first, we are confident that the reader will ultimately appreciate the advantages online publication of these sections offers in the digital age.

Noal Cohen and Michael Fitzgerald September 2014”

The following video tribute to Gigi Gryce offers a sampling of his arranging skills from his Jazz Lab association with trumpeter Donald Byrd. The tune is Horace Silver’s Speculation.

Remembering L.A.’s First Great Record Store, Wallichs Music City

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

“Bing Crosby shopped the aisles, Frank Zappa worked the floor”

In an age of instantaneous audio gratification via digital file downloads and ultra miniaturization made possible by compact disc machines, Mp3 players and cell phones with their ubiquitous ear buds, it’s hard for those who didn’t experience it first hand to relate to an era when 78 rpm acetate followed by vinyl 45 rpm EPs and 33 ⅓ LPs were the primary commercial source for recorded music as played on turntables hooked up to amplifiers and speaker systems.

Much of the way music is sampled today has its origins in the technological innovations of California’s Silicon Valley where computers, information and communications systems, massive data storage capabilities and a high level of entrepreneurship assisted by ready access to investment capital created revolutionary new ways to experience music.

But although one could describe music fitted onto records that had to be purchased in a retail outlet and brought home and listen to on an audio console or portable record player as pedestrian by comparison to the marvels of the age of digital file sharing, there was still a fair share of innovation going on in California back in the slide rule era of the 1950s and 1960s as regards ways to listen to music.

Which brings me to the lovely piece of nostalgia that forms this feature which was written by Alison Martino and first appeared in Los Angeles Magazine,  June 16, 2015.

“Before there was a Tower Records, before the Capitol Records building was the Capitol Records building, L.A.’s coolest music-industry hub was Wallichs Music City.

Glenn Wallichs opened the record store with his brother, Clyde, at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Vine Street in 1940. Until Tower Records set up on the Sunset Strip 30 years later, Wallichs Music City was the place to go for concert tickets, sheet music, LPs, 45s, tapes, 8-tracks, cassettes, and musical instruments. It’s where a friend of mine purchased a double neck guitar right off the wall, and where my mother picked up an alto recorder for my second grade music class. Maybe you remember its radio and TV jingle: “It’s Music City, Sunset & Vine!”

When Glenn Wallichs co-founded Capitol Records in 1942 with singer-songwriter Johnny Mercer and songwriter Buddy DeSylva, the record label had its offices above the store. (Dot Records moved into that space after Capitol left for Hollywood Boulevard in 1956.) On their way in and out of meetings, recording stars including Bing Crosby, Judy Garland, Nat King Cole, and Eddie Cochran browsed the aisles and signed their names on their latest hits at the display counters downstairs.

But Wallichs Music City wasn’t famous only for its clientele: It had the distinction of being the first record store to seal albums in cellophane and display them in racks. Before that, customers could listen to tracks—or record one of their own, for a small fee—in tiny chambers that looked like old wooden telephone booths.

By the mid 1960s, the area around Hollywood and Vine had become a place “to cruise” and an even more popular zone for music lovers. The Lawrence Welk Show was filmed and the “Teen-Age Fair” was held around the corner at the Hollywood Palladium. Wallichs Music City kept hip hours, staying open until 2 a.m. The store was so cool, in fact, Frank Zappa worked there part-time in 1965. I would have loved to see him in his company-issued coat and tie.

Despite its following, the Wallichs Music City lost business as record chains like Licorice Pizza, Music Plus, and Wherehouse Music & Movies popped up and then multiplied in L.A.’s suburban malls. Wallichs Music City closed in 1978 and the building was razed. Today, a Walgreens stands at its former location. Just don’t go in expecting to “try before you buy.””