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Brown: This is tape six of the jazz oral history interview for the Smithsonian Institution with Louie Bellson in his home in San Jose. We’re on tape six. We’ve covered quite a lot of history here, but there’s still quite a lot more to go. One of the real significant achievements in your career is that relationship you had with Remo Belli, in shaping the direction of drum manufacturing. If you could talk about how you and Remo met, and how that relationship came about.
Bellson: Remo is a good drummer himself. He played with Billy May’s band at the height of Billy May’s career. He also played for Betty Hutton. In fact, in those days, that’s when I met Remo. He came to me in Las Vegas. He said, “Give me some money.” I said, “For what?” He said, “I’ve got an idea for a plastic drumhead.” I said, “Plastic drumhead?” That sounded strange. But he was working with this man that knows about plastics, and they came up with this plastic drumhead. “I want you as part of the company. I want you to invest some money in the company.”
Brown: What year was that?
Bellson: Let’s see. I have to go back to – 45 – we’re almost 50 years together, so that would be . . .
Brown: Mid- to late ’50s. 1950s. Does it go back that far?
Bellson: Yeah. It goes back even before that, around the early ’50s.
Brown: So you gave him the money?
Bellson: I gave him the money.
Brown: Do you remember how much you gave him?
Bellson: Yeah. I gave him $1,000.
Brown: Really? Wow. That’s a lot of money in the early ’50s. Bellson: Right. So then he says, “Okay.” Then periodically in the next few months, the next few years, he’d say to me, “Give me another thousand, another thousand.” So I did, and then the company started happening. Plastic heads started coming out and gained a lot of prominence. It was a good sound, because guys now could play outdoors, in the rain, in fact. When you did that with a calfskin head, you were good for a certain beat, and that’s it. That was the end of it. Guys like Shelly Manne, who was strictly a calfskin player, didn’t come in right away with the plastic head, but later on he said, “I should have done this a long time ago.” He said, “This is great.” Remo came up with the idea. Even today he’s the number one head maker of everybody else. He’s also involved in making sets of drums. He’s also very prominent in ethnic percussion: African instruments, hand drums, djembes, cubanos. That’s his biggest project now. He became a millionaire just handling that kind of stuff. I bought more shares as the years went by. Then he made me a vice-president about 20 years ago, not knowing how to run the business, but he used me as a guinea pig to try out new ideas. Even today, he calls me, we have lunch together, and we talk about how good God’s been to us. Here – we talked about retiring in 1985, and here it is, 2005, and we’re still going.
I don’t do much with the company any more as far as inventing new ideas. He’ll call me and say, “What do you think of this?” But everything’s been thought about so far. He has what they call a drum circle. The main factory now is in Valencia, a beautiful factory. And then they maintain a big area at Coldwater [Canyon Blvd.] in North Hollywood. They have a drum circle there every Tuesday and Thursday. People come in – not necessarily drummers. Just people – come in with their hand drums, conga drums, djembes, and all kinds of rhythm instruments. They have somebody like Leon Mobley, who’s a good conga drummer – have him conduct the affair. For an hour and a half, or two hours, they have a ball just playing rhythms. It’s great. I think Mickey Hart did that with the Grateful Dead. It was very successful. There were thousands of people, playing hand drums. Everybody’s involved. So that’s going strong for him now.
Remo married a young Filipino lady who’s a doctor. He’s learned to eat healthy foods and be on a health kick. He goes to all of these big world health programs, learns what to do, because he’s almost up to my age. He’s 79?, maybe – 78, 79. He’s always aware of what to eat. Gets up every morning and walks at 6 o’clock in the morning. He – the right medicine from his wife. He’s got a vineyard of his own in Paso Robles. Eventually, that’s what he wants to do: live in Cambria and have his vineyard in Paso Robles – become a farmer. But he’s too active in going to the PAS – Percussive Arts Society. That’s one thing he was a founder of. You know about the PAS, of course. This year they’re honoring Steve Gadd. He goes to that. He goes to the big NAMM [National Association of Music Merchants] shows they have in L.A., where everybody shows up, all the marketers. He’s been like a brother to me. He’s been my best man at my wedding here at Emmanuel Baptist Church. We still do a lot of things together. We’re able to – he came on a tour with me with Norman Granz, a six-week tour. We had Dizzy there, Zoot Sims, Oscar Peterson, Ray Brown, Ella, all the biggies. He came. He paid his way, flew with us for six concerts – more than six concerts, because sometimes we did one concert in Paris and flew to Italy to do another concert, all in the same day. It was six weeks altogether. Remo remembers that, being associated with all those great players, living with them. He stayed at the same hotel with us, where he had coffee and dinner with Oscar. What could be better than that? He’s been a great part of my life. We still – like when I get back in town, we’ll have lunch together and talk over, “What’s up? What are you doing now? What’s next?”
Brown: It’s great to have lifelong friends. That’s tremendous.
Bellson: Remo still gets stars, like Jeff Hamilton is one of his main people, handles his drums. Jeff Hamilton is a fabulous drummer, by the way. We all know that. When I see him now, I say, “Don’t get too good, because you’re good enough. You’re better than good now. Stop it.” A great guy. Can play with a trio, a quartet, big band. They’ve got that big band going – Clayton-Hamilton band. He’s got his own trio. A master with the brushes. He can do anything.
Brown: Let’s talk about other younger drummers, then. You were talking about drummers. I’ve got an LP here called The Matterhorn: the Louie Bellson Drum Explosion. You’ve got two drum sets on the cover. The liner notes describe the project. The other drummer’s always referred to as “the other drummer.” But when one puts it on – if Ken or I or you put it on, we can tell who that other drummer is.
Bellson: Yeah, that’s Billy Cobham.
Brown: Right. So can you talk about this project and why it never gets mentioned?
Bellson: Sure. I got to know Billy Cobham. I found him to be a wonderful person, very warm, and a great drummer. When he started with [John] McLaughlin . . .
Brown: The Mahavishnu Orchestra.
Bellson: Yeah. Doing stuff with the left hand, which I always taught my students, “Learn to play with this hand, too.” I got the opportunity to do a three-day clinic with him in Northridge, California. Joel Leach has a band – a great band. We did three days, clinics and workshops and concerts with that band. I wrote a piece – I wrote all the music for Billy and I, and he sight-read that the first time. Sight-read it. I put it in front of him. He played it. A fabulous player. We got so wrapped up with this idea, I said, “Let us record it.” So we went to Switzerland together – Lugano, Switzerland. Billy coordinated the whole thing. We used – half of the guys were from Europe, like Benny Bailey, the trumpet player. He had Mike Manieri. He came over from the States. The Brecker brothers, Randy and . . .
Brown: Michael.
Bellson: . . . Michael and Randy. They both came over. Howard Johnson was playing baritone [saxophone]. Great – he played the whistle too – great band. That’s already – that’s a DVD. You talked about that DVD, Kenny, yesterday?
Kimery: Yeah.
Bellson: That’s where we did that, in Lugano. That was featuring me alone. Then I did the one with Billy Cobham, where it’s titled, When Cobham Meets Bellson. We did those in Europe. We decided to do it in California. So I said – I got permission to do it from Norman Granz. Billy Cobham had to call CBS and get an okay from his record people. They said okay. So, after they said okay, we proceeded to take pictures and do the liner notes and do the recording. Near the end of the recording – we had one more day to do – Billy got in some contractual difficulties with CBS, to the point where he said, “You can’t record with anybody else at all.” Billy said, “What about the thing I just did with Louie Bellson?” “No, you can’t do that either.” Already we’re in to $30,000. So Norman says, “You want to scratch it, Lou?” I said, “No. We can’t scratch this. This is too historic.” He says, “Well” – Norman came up with the idea, why don’t we put the pictures of the drum sets in the front and call it Matterhorn and refer to Billy Cobham not as Billy Cobham but “the other drummer.” They can’t balk on that. So that’s how that came about. It was an exciting moment for me to record with this guy, because he’s a giant. I heard him play not too long ago at Yoshi’s. He had a group of guys from Europe. He still played with all that fire and enthusiasm. Wonderful human being. Great player. I was sad that I couldn’t include his name on that thing with the 12 drummers, because his – not only Billy Cobham, but I wanted to include other guys like Vinnie Colaiuta – other drummers that were coming up, that deserve – you can’t put them all on. So I decided I’ll do a sequel to the – then on the sequel I’ll use Billy Cobham, Vinnie Colaiuta, guys like – young guys coming up now. There’s a young guy. His name is – I just read about him in Modern Drummer. Holmes [Rodney] is his last name. Young black kid. He’s only about 17 years old, and already he’s playing rim shots coming out of his butt. He’s a fantastic player. It’s like he’s 60 years old, playing all those good things. So they’re coming up. They’re a lot younger now. They’re practically babies.
Brown: It’s like Tony Williams’s age – 16, 17.
Bellson: That’s right. Tony Williams was a baby. That’s right. Steve Gadd, same way. Buddy Rich was known as “Traps.” He told me – he said he didn’t have any idea of becoming a drummer when he was little. He played in the circuit in the theaters, but he wasn’t interested in pursuing it, becoming a full-fledged drummer. It just happened.
Brown: Have you heard of some of the other drummers coming up, like El Negro Hernandez from Cuba?
Bellson: Oh yeah. He’s a fantastic drummer. Man. Talking about being mad at somebody. I’m going to break his hands. Because to me, those guys are a full rhythm section within themselves. It used to be, I played the samba and things like that, I had three other guys helping me. Now these guys play a clavé beat with the left foot, and the right foot’s doing something different, and the other hand – he’s fantastic.
Brown: How about – coming up in age, looking at David Weckl?
Bellson: Dave Weckl’s another guy that . . .
Brown: Comes right out of Steve Gadd, the Steve Gadd style.
Bellson: Yeah. Fantastic young players. Gregg Bissonette, there’s another one.
Brown: How about some of the older ones, like Ndugu [Chancler; Leon Chancler]?
Bellson: Ndugu’s wonderful. Ndugu’s not only a great player, but he’s a great teacher. He’s now one of the teachers at USC. He conducts a brilliant clinic. He’s a fabulous player. He told me that one of the toughest things he had to do – you notice that I said tough, not hard – was playing for Michael Jackson, making the afterbeat the same. It’s got to be the same for the whole tune. It can’t be a loud rim shot, and then the next one medium loud, the next one soft, the next one loud. It’s got to be consistent. But he’s a good player, exciting, and also a good player. He’s the one that taught me how to say, when the kids ask you how old you are, you tell them – in those days, I was not quite 80 yet – but he taught me how to say, “I’m 40 years old on this leg and 40 years old on this leg, and the middle leg stays constant all the time.” He taught me how to say that. So I put that on Ndugu.
Brown: Maybe that generation – have you heard Ralph Peterson?
Bellson: Yes. Brown: He’s a wild man.
Bellson: Yeah, very good.
Brown: Because he was the one that Boo [Art Blakey] said would be the heir to Boo. You haven’t talked about Art Blakey.
Bellson: Art Blakey. Dizzy said it. He said, “Max Roach is a professor. Art Blakey is a volcano.” One of the most exciting players ever. He has the distinction of being one of the hardest swinging drummers. Also, he’s had more stars in his band than anybody who has a big band or a small group. The people that came out of his leadership are many, and all brilliant. He, as a person, was always charming, a lot of fun, and a great, great player. They don’t come any hard swingers past Art Blakey.
Brown: That’s one of those where he’d swing you into bad health, huh?
Bellson: He could swing you into bad health in a minute. He’ll start off the first bar that way. You don’t wait until the middle of the tune. He starts off with the first bar: “Bam.”
Brown: How about Philly Joe Jones?
Bellson: There’s another big talent. He’s really a musical player. He digs in to what’s happening musically and applies that to his drumming. Gets a nice sound on the drum set. He’s genuinely included among the great drummers of all time.
Brown: Did you know him personally? Did you get to know him?
Bellson: I knew him personally, yeah. Absolutely yeah. In fact I played opposite him at Birdland years ago. I learned some things from him too. That’s one thing about drummers. We always learn from one another. Buddy Rich made this statement. He said, “Every time I go hear a drummer play – he can be a great drummer, or he can be a guy that’s not so great – but I learn something from him. He’ll do something that’s small, but it’s something that you can use. You say, ‘yeah, I’m going to do that. That’s great’.” Drummers.
Brown: Anybody that we left out? Stan Levey?
Bellson: Stan Levey. He just passed away recently. I got to know him. In fact I saw him in a restaurant there. He was doing – I saw him at the NAMM show last year. He was in good health, and boom. He’s left-handed. He’s lefty. Great drummer. Played with Bird. He had good technique, good swing. He had to be able to swing, playing with those guys. He also sounded good in a big band. I caught him with Stan Kenton’s band. He was able to come up with the volume. He was with that swing band, the one that I talked about earlier, where . . .
Brown: Bill Holman was doing arrangements.
Bellson: . . . Bill Holman wrote arrangements. Made the band swing.
Brown: How about Don Lamond.
Bellson: Don Lamond, another great player. I used to see Don Lamond – he comes from Washington, D.C., by the way. Did you know that, Ken?
Kimery: I didn’t.
Bellson: Yeah. Washington, D.C., had Don Lamond. It had Mert Oliver on bass, Angelo Tompros on tenor saxophone, Earl Swope on trombone, Marky Markowitz on trumpet. These were all brilliant musicians. They had a small band together. They played Cavacas Grill. I knew Don Lamond way back then. He was a great player. I never heard him play with a big band. This was like an octet. Later on I caught him with Woody [Herman]’s band, and he blew me away. Sounded great. Technique was there. Sound was there. Able to listen. We’re on a video together. There was a Steve Allen show featuring Lionel Hampton, Don Lamond, myself, and, I think, Mel Lewis. Was Mel Lewis on that one?
Kimery: No. This one – I just know the three of you. You started off playing on tom toms?
Bellson: Right.
Kimery: And then migrated back to the drum set?
Bellson: That’s right. I had forgotten completely about that until somebody brought it up to me. I said, “Send me a copy of the video.” They did, and brought back good memories. Don Lamond was a great player.
Brown: How about Mel Lewis?
Bellson: Mel Lewis. When I first met him, he was getting ready to join Glenn Miller’s band. He said, “I want to go to New York and learn how to play, because I want to play with a swing band.” So he did. It didn’t take him long, because he learned how to play. Great, musical drummer. Great. Buddy and I used to listen to what he did with the Thad Jones – Mel Lewis band. Incredible. He is an example of a drummer that put everything in the right spot. If it called for a two-bar break, he didn’t put the kitchen sink in there with it. He made it sound like it belongs to that tune. That takes an artist. His playing ability, with Thad Jones writing arrangements, and Mel Lewis – that band was on fire, and Mel Lewis had a great part of that. Great musical drummer. Great.
Brown: Did we forget anybody? Is there anyone else you want to talk about, that either you find to be interesting or inspiring or through the ages . . .? I know we talked a lot about a lot of different drummers, but coming from you, that’s the voice of authority, so . . .
Bellson: We missed J. C. Heard, didn’t we?
Brown: J. C. Heard.
Bellson: He played with Jazz at the Philharmonic, early years. J. C. Heard. We used to call him Mr. Clean, because he always dressed up in fabulous suits and shirts and neckties. He looked like he just came out of a – my brother said, “That guy’s taking a screen test.” He was like Duke. Duke always was immaculate. Even his casual clothes were immaculate. A great drummer. He worked with Cab’s band for a while. He was a great soloist and great timekeeper. He was in a class with Shadow Wilson – all those drummers during that period. Cozy Cole.
Brown: Talk a little bit more about Cozy. Because this generation doesn’t know, but we hear Topsy. We know.
Bellson: The only drummer to create – make a record that sold over a million copies. The only drummer that sold. Topsy no.1 and Topsy no.2. Nobody came close. Gene recorded Drum Boogie. Buddy did Hallelujah with Tommy’s band. I did Skin Deep. But never did we reach the million mark. He’s the only drummer that sold over a million records. He even topped that young kid that was on the Disney program.
Brown: Sandy Nelson?
Bellson: Sandy Nelson.
Brown: Doing Wipeout.
Bellson: He sold a lot – quite a few records. But Topsy, that’s something. But he was a great drummer too. He knew how to play the snare drum. When I say that, I mean, a lot of drummers play just the cymbals for time. Very few drummers can do what Baby Dodds did, playing press rolls and make it swing, not make it sound too militaristic. That’s why, when Gene Krupa learned how to play drums, his influence was Baby Dodds. He wasn’t going to be a drummer. He was studying to be a priest. When he heard Baby Dodds, he looked up, held his hands, and said, “Lord, I’ll be with you shortly, but right now I’m interested in Baby Dodds and playing drums.” He told me that. Gene told me that. [?] could play the snare drum.
Brown: George Wettling?
Bellson: George Wettling could play the snare drum. Cozy could play the snare drum. He could play press rolls so it didn’t sound like a press roll. It swung. He was a great reader. In fact he and Gene got together and had a drum studio together for years. Gene says he learned an awful lot from Cozy about rudiments, being able to read. Cozy always knocked me out. He had that rich, low voice. Later on he went to Columbus, Ohio. I think he came from Columbus – somewhere in Ohio. He went to teach at Capital University. I stopped off on one of my tours to see him. I walked in the room, and he had about a group of 20 drummers. He was giving a lecture. I could hear that low, resonant sound, beautiful sounding voice of his. He was explaining something, not about drums, but he was telling all these young drummers, “You’ve got to learn how to do one thing. When you’re playing theaters, that’s four shows a day. That means that you don’t have to go out and ball some chick for three shows and come back to start to play the fourth show. You don’t have that kind of energy. You’ve got to forget those chicks and relate to the drumming.” I said, “You dirty old man, you.” He laughed. Said, “I’m telling the truth.”
Brown: As long as we’re talking about educating drummers, did you know Alan Dawson?
Bellson: Alan, a champion. A champion all the way. Beautiful drummer. He did something I’ve never seen anybody ever do, at a clinic. Picks a set of brushes and goes through all the rudiments, playing brushes, while he’s playing a samba beat with the bass drum, da-dum, da-dum, da-dum, da-dum. That’s constant, and he goes through all the rolls, all the flams, ratamacues, playing brushes on the snare drum. That’s a work of art. That alone, right there, puts him in a class by himself. Great teacher and a marvelous player. Could play with a small band, big band. Alan Dawson was something else.
Brown: Tony Williams’s teacher.
Bellson: Tony Williams’s teacher, yeah. Among a lot of other students that I know. I had a chance to know him very well. He was something else.
Brown: How about Joe Morello?
Bellson: Joe Morello. When I first met him, I was with Duke’s band. We were playing a place called Holyoak, Massachusetts, near Boston. Because he’s from Boston, isn’t he?
Brown: Yeah. He’s from that area.
Bellson: He said, “How do you do that thing with the left hand, with a finger over here and a finger over here. How do you do that?” I said, “I’ll show you some day, the finger style of playing, using your fingers along with the wrist and arm.” The next year, or six months later, I came again with Tommy Dorsey. We were able to go to his house. He had two sets of – had two pads set up in his living room. I went over to his house for dinner. He picked up the sticks. He says, “Is this what you mean, Lou?” Brrrr. He started doing this. I said, “Why, you dirty rat, you. You knew it already.” He was doing it already. He said, “Yeah, I was studying photos of you and Buddy. I noticed you were using this finger in the left hand, and this finger over here.” So I showed him a few more things, and I said, “I don’t need to show you anything. In fact I’m jealous of the way that you’re playing now. You’re playing too good now as it is.” Good player. Great player. Great touch on the instrument. That Take 5 thing that he did is among the classics, definitely. Another guy that can play good in a small group or a big band. Can do the whole thing.
Brown: How about going back and looking at some of the classic drum teachers: Billy Gladstone. Did you know him?
Bellson: Yeah. Billy Gladstone. I have a snare drum that he made for me. It’s a solid maple shell, three-ways key. You tighten everything at the top, nothing from the bottom. Beautiful hand drum. It’s now in a museum, somewhere up here in San Francisco. I can’t think of the guy – an Italian guy, got it from me. It starts with an F. I’ll think of his name too. He collects snare drums.
Brown: I know who you’re talking about, but his name doesn’t come to mind either.
Bellson: Billy Gladstone came in to hear me play. I was with Tommy Dorsey’s band at the hotel in New York. He said, “I’m going to make a snare drum for you.” I said, “Great.” He brought it in for me to play. It had gut snares on the bottom. When I put that snare drum on, it was during a radio broadcast. The whole Tommy Dorsey band turned around and said, “What was that?” That was how good that snare drum sounded. For an average guy in a band, what do they know about a snare drum? They know it’s a snare drum, and that’s as far as it goes. But to hear something played, and turn around and say, “What was that?” “Man, what a sound that was.” That was a Billy Gladstone snare drum. I also had a chance – Buddy Rich and I walked in Radio City Music Hall and the Roxy to see Billy Gladstone. He was standing in the pit. You could see him from his waist on up. He had his snare drum really high. He was making this sound. On stage are 40 gorgeous girls with tights. You focused on that enough. That’s enough to drive you crazy. In the pit is Billy Gladstone playing these up-strokes and down-strokes. We went – Buddy Rich – both of us went from the 40 girls – zap – to the snare drummer. That’s how powerful he was. We forgot about the 40 girls. What is this guy doing over here with that snare drum? That’s what’s important. That’s how good he played. Great artist. In fact, he was one of the Four Horsemen. They called them the Four Horsemen: Billy Gladstone, Max Manne – Shelly Manne’s father – the tympany player . . .
Brown: Sol Goodman? Vic Firth? Sol Goodman? No?
Bellson: No.
Brown: Vic Firth? Oh, even before that. Okay. Let’s go on to the fourth one.
Bellson: Yeah, Max Manne. Oh – Carl Glassman. He was a tympani player. And then the snare drummer – oh, Murray Spivack. Yeah, Murray Spivack.
Bellson: Billy Gladstone, Max Manne, Carl Glassman, and Murray Spivack. Whenever it came time for something to come up to do something special, they called one of those guys. They were all excellent, what they did.
Brown: How about Jim Chapin?
Bellson: Jim Chapin. [?] a story about him. I got a phone call from Jimmy Chapin. This was long after he wrote that book Independence, which is a marvelous book, by the way. That book is as good as the one I wrote – better, because he gets into the drum set. After that book came out, he was doing a lot of teaching out of that book. He called me up frantically one day. Said, “I’m in trouble.” I said, “What’s the matter?” He said, “I just got a job to fill for somebody with Woody Herman’s band.” “So, that’s great. What’s wrong with that?” He said, “What should I do?” Then I started to get my brain going. I know what he was after. “You’re so used to teaching exercises, and you haven’t been playing with a small band or a big band. You’re concentrating on students and playing all these two-bar phrases, four-bar phrases, that you can’t think of anything else to play. You got to forget that book that you wrote and listen to the band and groove and swing.” He did. He made it, but otherwise, he would have been thinking, “Let me see. I’m reading the music. Here comes a four-bar break. Should I use 187 in my book or . . .” No. You can’t do that. I said, “Jimmy. You got to forget that.” He never forgot that.
Brown: It’s great advice.
Bellson: Great technician, even today. He’s 85 years old – something like that. He still carries a practice pad and sticks. He goes in the bathroom with it.
Brown: You see him every year at IAJE. He’s got his little pad on his knee – rrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Bellson: Yeah, he’s got it. Great clinician, inspiration.
Brown: How about Charlie Wilcoxson? That’s where Papa Jo [Jones] always said, “Oh yeah. Everything’s out of Charlie Wilcoxson.”
Bellson: He was a great teacher. In fact, Charlie Wilcoxson. I’m a Yankee ballplayer fan. I’m a Yankee fan, for years. Pearl used to go up to Yankee Stadium and sing the Star Spangled Banner. I got to know George Steinbrenner. George Steinbrenner was a drummer when he was younger, and he took lessons from Charlie Wilcoxson. At that time, Charlie Wilcoxson had a giant picture of me, and each student that came in there had to face that portrait. So when I met George Steinbrenner, he said to me, “I had to look at your ugly puss every time I took a lesson.” I said, “If you need a second baseman on your team, call me. I’ll come and do it.” That’s the story. His family was into shipbuilding. They were very wealthy. But he loved baseball. The Yankees didn’t do so good this year. I was going to call George Steinbrenner about it, but I said I better not. He’ll probably say, “I’m going back to playing drums again.” But he was a drummer years ago.
Brown: About Ted Reed and his book Syncopation?
Bellson: Yeah, Ted. Teddy Reed, yeah. Good. That’s a good book.
Brown: I studied with a student of Alan Dawson’s Keith Copeland. So I went through the – that’s called the ritual, when you get down to the – you play the samba, and you play all the rudiments. But we also worked out of Syncopation. He said, “This is what Alan Dawson would do.” You go through and read it, and you play with this, or you play with the bass drum, you play with the hi-hat. Bellson: That’s right.
Brown: It’s an important book.
Bellson: That’s a good book. Ted’s a good teacher too. I got to know him quite well. Even when he moved on from New York to Florida, I’d see him quite often. Good. Nice man.
Brown: Morris Goldenberg? Do you know him?
Bellson: I knew of him. I didn’t – I met him once. I’m not too familiar – I’m familiar with his work, and his students all came out – didn’t Joe Morello study with him?
Brown: Yeah. He taught a lot of folks.
Bellson: There’s one guy in Chicago that was very influential, a big influence on me too. Eddie Strait. You know about him?
Brown: I know the name.
Bellson: Ed Strait. He was like Roy Knapp in Chicago. I took a few lessons from him too. He was sharp. Older guy. He wrote these little books with a lot of material, great material, in them. Not so much with a set of drums, but playing the instrument as – per se.
Brown: We were looking in your stack of books there, and we came across Stick Control. George Lawrence Stone.
Bellson: Yeah. Murray Spivack took me through that book. I thought I was a good player before I went to study with Murray Spivack. Somebody recommended him. I went up to see him in North Hollywood. He said, “Okay.” He says, “I want you to play for me on a practice pad.” He said, “Play me a single-stroke roll. Open it up, and then close it. Play me a five-stroke roll. Seven-stroke roll. Play me a flam. Flam accent.” This went on for about a half hour. Then he said, “See that chair over there. Go sit down.” So I sat down. He said, “When I finally get the boards off your hands, I’ll make a good player out of you.” I said, “Oh.” I’ve been looking for this guy for a long time. I thought I played well. He took me through my paces. I studied off and on, on and off with him for a couple of years. Maintained a friendship right up until he passed away. He was a great teacher, great player. Did you see that video that’s out, where he’s giving me a lesson? A big picture of him in the front. It says, “Murray Spivack giving Louie Bellson a lesson.” What he did was, we went to the basics. He said, “Just play a single for me.” So I did this. I did a up-stroke and down-stroke. He said, “No, no, no, no, no, no. That’s not right. Just play the right and left hand.” All he wanted was a tap. So he’s chastising me, and I left it on the video. I said, “No. Leave it on the video. It’s a lesson.” Dave Garibaldi’s also on that, because he studied with Murray too. You know something? You’re going to preach – you guys are both drummers. As a young kid, I was puzzled by the rudiments. I was all for them, because I knew that I went to Battle Creek, Michigan, for three straight years and won competitions – first-class competitions – on the parade drum with gut snares. So I know about rudiments. But naming the rudiments always puzzled me, because I was taught, like you guys, a stroke is when you employ the use of the full arm, wrist, and everything. That’s a stroke. A tap is when you use the wrist only. So when you tell me to play a five-stroke roll, I’m going to go 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5. Right? When it’s a number 5 roll, it’s a two-bounce tap roll. A bounce is one attack and two sounds, as in ta-da ta-da tum, ba-da ba-da bum, ba-da ba-da. So when you tell me to play a five-stroke roll, I went – I showed that to Murray – Murray Spivak. He said, “Why you little rascal you. Where’d you think about that?” So I came out with the road chart, showing the number 7 roll is three bounces and a tap. Technically, that’s what it is. I showed that to Steve Gadd. Steve Gadd said, “You’re right. You’re completely right. I never thought of that.” But I thought of it. I pat myself on the back.
Brown: What would you tell – I don’t know if you’re taking on any younger students, but what kind of advice would you give to a young student? Say a junior-high school kid comes up to you and says, “Oh, Mr. Bellson. I just started playing drums. What can you tell me?”
Bellson: First of all, find a good teacher, a teacher that’s a drummer that knows the instrument, because that’s important, because in my career as a clinician with big bands, I noticed that some of the leaders of those bands didn’t know beans about drums. That’s why – that one thing that I told you about Clark Terry and I went. They were playing [Bellson sings In the Mood in a straight rhythm]. That bandleader should have known better to teach the kids to play that way. He should have taught them to play [Bellson sings the melody with a swing rhythm]. Swing. The drummer knew how to do it, but the bandleader didn’t know how to do it. Getting back with the teaching: go to a great, prominent teacher, one that has experience and knows drums. Second of all, he’s going to teach you how to play the first two basic rudiments: the single-roll and the long-roll, because all the other 24 or 25 rudiments are based on a combination of a single and a long roll. Learn the rudiments, the flams, ratamacues, and then learn how to read. Learning how to read is simple. Too many young drummers during that time made a big production out of – “That’s too difficult for me. That’s too hard.” No. Nothing’s hard. It’s not difficult. Notes on a paper are nothing. You have to make them come to life. They’re dead. They’re nothing but some ink and paper. You have to make them come – when you read, you have to play the notes, not read the notes. Reading the notes is not performing the notes, because they’re not – they don’t have a heart. There’s something on the paper. You have to play the notes. I learned that from my dad. He’d get a clarinet player. He’d say, “Play this four-bar break for me.” The kid would read it. My dad would say, “You read it, but I didn’t get anything out of you. Now play it with feeling.” He played it with feeling, and what a difference, from reading the notes and playing the notes.
We as drummers – when we play in a big band, one of the most important guys in the band is the lead trumpet player, because if you and the lead trumpet player are together, you’re going to make the phrases, because the lead trumpet player is going to teach other trumpet players to play up to him, and the lead saxophone is going to learn to play – if Bobby Shew’s the lead trumpet player, that’s why he likes Steve Gadd so much. Steve is always listening to him, playing [Bellson sings a phrase]. They’re together. If they’re not together, it’s not going to sound good. So they have to learn that too.
Also, they have to have patience. Don’t just learn one beat. Like today – my brother teaches. Little kids walk in, “All I want to learn is” [Bellson sings a hard-rock rhythm]. “That’s all.” My brother says, “No. That’s not going to learn how to play drums. That’s only one little part.” “That’s all I want to learn. I want to play the gig.” They don’t have the patience, the time, to really get into the instrument, to learn how to play the instrument. How to get a sound out of the instrument takes a few years, just to hit the snare drum right to get the ultimate sound. Not talking about the bass drum. That comes in later. But don’t try to get a full set of drums with the first lesson. Learn to play the snare drum first. Have patience. Listen to records. Learn how to swing, as well as rock-and-roll. They’re two different feels. One’s a strict eighth-note feel. One is a rolling triplet feel. That’s some of the few things I teach – I do with my students.
I saw Steve Gadd last week – he’d just come off a tour of doing about 27 clinics. That’s a lot of clinics, and it’s just him alone. I do sometimes with a trio or with a big band, which eases the pressure. Steve said, “What do you do?” I said I come out. I play first. I do my clinic. I play something first. Not long – short. Then I explain what I just did is a combination of a single and long roll. Then I get the snare drum out and play something with the snare drum. Then I get the brushes out and play with the snare drum alone. Then I go back to the drum set. I show the students what I did on 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover. Then I begin the question and answer period. I know some of the kids want to ask questions. Then I wind up by playing a long solo. I told him. I said, “That’s great.” He did something unique. He opened a session. They announced it. “Steve Gadd.” He came out, sat down, picked up the brushes, and put the microphone this close. [Bellson makes the sound of a brushed swing rhythm]. Slow beat. Then he started singing. [Bellson sings the melody of Bye Bye Blackbird]. He sang a whole chorus while he’s playing the brushes. Simple. I guess a lot of those little kids were wondering, what is that? But when it comes down to – he’s breaking it down, completely down. The tempo – instead of coming out like a fireball – which is good. That’s what I do – here’s another approach. Then he started building. Put the brushes down, picked up the sticks, and started going higher, higher. The intensity started going. Now they know why he’s Steve Gadd. He started doing all these things. He went back to the brushes, then back to the sticks, and the questions and the answers. He wound up playing a fabulous solo. So there’s another thing – another way of doing it.
Kids have to learn how to be patient. They have to know where they came from in order to know where they’re going. By that I mean, they have to know about Baby Dodds. They have to know about Chick Webb. They have to know about Max Roach, about Kenny Clarke. They have to know about Buddy Rich, Gene Krupa, Shelly Manne. Bring it up to date, and let’s talk about the Dave Weckls and the Dennis Chambers. Then listen to some of these youngsters too, like this young Holmes kid. They’ve got two players. One, his name is Thomas Lang. You know about him?. He comes from Vienna, Austria. The other is Virgil Donati. Both of these guys are fabulous. They’re doing stuff with their feet that I would do with my hands. My question after that is, how do they sound in a band? That’s the key.
You can be the greatest technician in the world, but I want to hear you play in the band. I want to hear you play behind a trumpet player, behind a saxophone player. I want to hear what you do on the out chorus. I want to hear how musical you are. That’s number one. Then the technique and drum solo can come next. These are things that some of the kids learn as they grow. Those that stick with it, they come to realize, yeah, that’s right. Have patience, because that title, “world’s greatest,” bothers me. There’s nobody that’s the world’s greatest. They used that for me for a while. They used it for Buddy Rich. I said, no. I’m still learning, just like my students are. I’ve got my books. I don’t stop where I think that I’m the world’s greatest. Nobody’s the world’s greatest. How are you going to say that Max Roach isn’t as good as Kenny Clarke? Or Buddy Rich is as good as Gene Krupa? They both have their thing that they do, monumental. Jo Jones. If I had to pick out one drummer – Buddy Rich and I were doing a seminar. The guy said, “We’re going to put you guys on the spot. You have to name one guy that influenced you more than anybody else. You have to pick out one.” It was Jo Jones. Buddy said it, and I said it, because he’s compleat – not c-o-m-p-l-e-t-e. C-o-m-p-l-e-a-t. In the dictionary, that means complete – no questions about it. The key to – you have to have patience. They’re always going to – a good point having to do with Jo Jones.
A guy named Ippolito in New York, had a drum school up on the six floor.
Brown: Sam [sic: Frank] Ippolito. I can’t remember his first name, but I know who you’re talking about. Yeah. Drummer’s World? Is it up there? But I know where you – like on 47th Street.
Bellson: Anyway, I was up there with Mel Lewis. We were talking together. Ippolito said, “Wish you guys stick around a little bit, because Papa Jo’s coming in.” I said, “Oh yeah. I can stick around.” Mel said, “I can stick around too.” In the interim, there’s 20 young kids – little kids. Ippolito doesn’t mind if they get on the drums. Let them have a ball. Sounded like a war going on. Brrrr, brrrrr, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, brrrrr, brrrr. Can you imagine? 20 kids. Mel Lewis and I had to go to the office. We were waiting for Jo Jones. Jo finally came in. The doors are open in the elevator. Here comes Jo Jones, and here’s 20 kids with a war going on. Jo looked at them for about three minutes. He slowly walked over in between them, and he said, “STOP!” All the little kids, they didn’t know who he was. They looked at him. Jo Jones pulled out a brush – one of the old brushes that had a red knob on the end of it. You have one of those brushes? There was a cymbal in front of him. He went [Bellson sings a swing rhythm]. “That’s where it’s at.” The little kids scratched their heads. They went back, brrrrrrrrrrrr. They didn’t know what kind of lesson they were getting, listening to that great rhythm he gave them. Four bars. That’s enough to carry you for 20 years. The little kids went back to playing. Mel Lewis and I said, there it is, there it is. That’s something, isn’t it?
But bless their hearts, the kids today are extremely talented. They have access to things that we didn’t have. They have access to go see their favorite players, or see them on video, DVDs. They have that. The only thing that they’re missing is playing the theaters and ballrooms. That was something that the older guys got that was really something. It really made you into a great player. But today the kids are younger. Some are seven, eight years old, nine years old, playing their little buns off, because they have more things to go by. They have good teachers. They have all that. They just have to learn that one word, “patience,” and listen. The world is fast enough as it is now, without having to play a fast single-stroke roll faster than you can ride a Mercedes down a street. The challenge is there. I think the teachers have to instill that patience with the students too. They have to make them realize you have to take your time to learn how to play, and you’re going to be with it forever.
Kimery: Three minutes.
Brown: I was going to – cram it in – I was going to ask about the influence of other world drummers, say, either Latin percussionists or say somebody like a tablā player like Zakir Hussein – these other types of percussion. Did that have any influence? Or do you keep your ears broad to listen to those folks as well? Like Giovanni Hidalgo or Francisco Aguabella or any – in your area, you had Chano [Pozo]. You had all the great ones coming up.
Bellson: That’s a good point. Norman Granz called me one day, years ago. He said, “I want you to make a record with some drummers.” I said, “Norman, I’ve already recorded with Buddy and Gene and Cozy and Max.” “Oh no,” he says, “I want you to get together with – what’s the name of that one guy that you know very well? Walfredo de los Reyes, Sr. He lives up here.” I said, “Yeah. I know him very well.” He said, “I want you to get together with him and a whole bunch of Latin players, and you can do a CD” – no – “an LP.” I called Walfredo. He said, “The timing is perfect. What are you doing next Sunday? Because next Sunday I’m going to Las Vegas,” because he played with Wayne Newton for years. “I’m going to Vegas Sunday. Alex Acuña is going to be there. Walfredo, Jr., is going to be there. Louis Conte is going to be there. Francisco Aguabella is going to be there, playing the bata drum. Cachao is going to be there as the bass player.” Am I naming them for you?
Brown: Oh yeah. You got them.
Bellson: When Dizzy saw that lineup, he said, “Wow.” They were all there together. Walfredo said, “We want you to play with us.” I said, “Oh no. I’m not in that league. I’ll listen.” They started playing. It was like listening to a symphony orchestra. Clare Fischer was the keyboard player, who’s a genius as far as Latin things are concerned. You can imagine him and Cachao and all these other guys on the same record. They gave me a little drum to bang on. The CD is out. It’s called Ecue – e-c-u-e. They’re all on it. It’s a fabulous – the other guy on it was Emil Richards, playing vibes, who is also another great drummer. All these artists were together. I don’t know why that never took off. Dizzy said, “Man, this thing is a work of art.” It’s like, everybody should own that. There’s a guy in London that likes Latin music. When he saw that LP, he said, “How did you manage . . .” I said, “I didn’t manage it. Walfredo did.” Manolo Badrena was playing the cabaxa – is on it also.
Brown: We’re stopping now.
Brown: . . . interview, talking about the influence of Latin percussion and world percussion. We were talking about the Ecue project. That’s something we’re going to run right out and get. How about any other types of percussion? Indian percussion, like with Ali Raka, with Ravi Shankar or his son Zakir Hussein, or any other types? Or African percussion. You talked about the Latin percussion, with bata. How about – did you know Olatunji?
Bellson: Yes. I respected the tablā players, the Indian – in fact Steve Smith is really into that now. Eddie Shaughnessy was into that for quite a long time, Indian music. Emil Richards went to India to study and also buy instruments for his work as a motion-picture percussionist. I respect that. I haven’t really gotten into it like I should, but I might want to listen to quite a bit of it, because I know, watching some of the tablā players and Ravi Shankar – I went to a couple of his concerts. The tablā player was fantastic. Their complicated rhythm is 4/4. They played 33 and 1/3 over 16 very easily. There’s a joke about that. Some Indian players were getting ready to do a gig. One guy says to the other guy, “I’ve got a difficult job to do tonight. I have to play something in 4/4. How do you do that?” Yet he can turn around and play 33 over 14. Wow. It’s fantastic. Of course they grew up that way. I respect that kind of playing entirely. I went to Africa twice. I had a chance to listen to some of the drummers from Ghana. They floored me. Not only what they played, but the sound. We try to take a tom-tom made over there and bring it over here, in a different climate, and expect it to sound like that. But one of the drummers over there told me, you can’t do that. It’s like wine. You take wine from Montefiascone out of Rome and bring it over here. It don’t taste like it does where the grape came from. That’s technical. I would say that – where was I now?
Brown: We’re talking about the Indian drummers, and we’re talking about the African drummers. You were talking about hearing the Ghanaian drummers.
Bellson: I went with Pearl. They came out. Seven young drummers from Ghana came out. One guy – they came out one at a time. One guy came out holding a big stick, and he hit the ground with it. Another guy came out and had bells around his ankles. Seven different rhythms going on. I never heard anything like that. Their drums – the way that they play, and that climate – we can’t match that. Cozy brought over – played on a drum from Africa once, but he said it didn’t sound like the kids played it, coming from Africa. That climate. Fabulous drummers. I’m going to get into the Indian thing. I’ve been studying with that DVD that Steve Smith put out. He gets into a lot of that. He’s made it a must for him to study about drummers all over the world. I respect that. That’s something.
Brown: We were talking about Remo Belli and Remo Drum Company earlier. I was working with San Jose Taiko right down the street here, and Remo was sending them the prototypes of some Taiko drums. How about the Japanese drummers, like Koto? Have you seen that group? It’s amazing.
Bellson: Oh yeah. Fabulous. They’re in [Las] Vegas now. They got a two-year contract with Taiko. It’s all they do, is play on that show. It’s tremendous drumming.
Brown: It’s like a martial art, huh? – the way – all the movement. There’s a real discipline to that art form as well.
Bellson: Yeah. These guys aren’t big, muscle-bound – they’re regular guys, but their knowledge of ki, aikido, takes them – they can play – like they break boards and cement blocks. The power of the ki is fabulous for those taiko drummers. That’s something else.
Brown: I’m going to read another quote. This one – of course we’re going back to the book of Duke – this one’s The World of Duke Ellington, Stanley Dance. This is an interview with – well, let’s see if you recognize who this is from. I’ll read it – I’ll go ahead and identify it. You know who it is: Jeff Castleman - but I’m going to read an interview that was conducted with Jeff Castleman. This is what Jeff says: “I really enjoy playing with Louis.” He didn’t call you Louie. He called you Louis Bellson. “I like the atmosphere in a small group better, but Louis made the big band relaxed for me. He played so well that I never worried.” It sounds like you and Duke. “He’s a nice guy, an angel, and it was a wonderful experience. He opened my eyes to how nice the business could be, that you could be a nice guy and play well too. I learned so much from him that I progressed a lot further than I would have otherwise.” So here again your influence, the extra-musical influence.
Bellson: That’s Jeff Castleman? The bass player.
Brown: Yeah.
Bellson: Right back I’d say the same thing. I found him easy to work with. He had the right attitude. We were playing great music. We worked together. You can’t beat that combination, working together. If you have a problem, you solve it right there. Don’t let it ride over and be a part of your ugly side. Do what you have to do, and do it the best you can. That’s what he did. He was a good bass player too. I saw him not too long ago. They had a get-together of all the people that worked with Duke. Singers – Herb Jeffries was there. 93 years old and still singing – still got the voice.
Brown: Bronze Buckaroo.
Bellson: Joya Sherill was there, and Louis Prima. Milt Grayson, who just passed away, was there. Butch Ballard was there, still playing at 85. I’m not the only one at 81. If he’s 85 and still playing, I’ve got to catch up with him. That’s another good drummer. Also, I had a chance to play opposite – another great drummer, played with Dizzy for a long time – from Philadelphia
Kimery: Mickey Roker. Great player.
Brown: Played with Bags [Milt Jackson] a lot too.
Bellson: Underrated. All these guys are underrated. Mickey Roker. He’s a great player. We had a thing going on about Norman Granz’s Jazz at the Philharmonic. Mickey and I were the two drummers. We wound up playing fours. He made me stand up and take notice. Yes he did. Had the right attitude. Nice man. We had fun together.
Brown: You seem to be in the league, if not at the top drawer of the league, of people who, when somebody thinks of somebody who’s a nice person, as gentleman, as you’ve been described by both Duke Ellington and Jeff Castleman, as an angel, a saint. Has that worked against you in this business? You see all these abrasive people who make their reputation on being rough and tough, like Buddy Rich or Benny Goodman and other folks like that. Do you think it was a disadvantage? Do you think that works as a disadvantage, to be nice in this business? You’re obviously rare folks.
Bellson: No, because I learned at an early age from my father, you can get more out of a plum if you don’t eat it right away. Wait until it gets ripe. I learned – how can you not be a nice person if you played with all those people you mentioned in the book. If you hung out with Louis Armstrong for a long time – there’s an example of a guy that everybody loved. He never had a bad word to say about anybody. Everybody loved him. Trumpet players loved him. Everybody. How do you put him in a category of a guy that was nice, and how’d he get along? He got along because, when you were in the room with him, you became nice like him. What rubbed off on you was the fact that you were with Louis Armstrong for five minutes. I had something else in mind too, that answers your question. Having been brought up with all these artists, you have to be a nice person. Buddy Rich – I played a lot of clinics where he had been there before me, and they said, “Don’t mention that guy’s name.” Or I’ve been to a lot of clinics where he had been there before me, and the guy said, “Boy, was he ever nice. He gave me a whole set of drums, he took my son out to lunch, and he let me ride in the bus for a couple of days.” So there you are. I know that guy for 50 years, and I’ve seen him do things that were wonderful. I always chastised him when he did something that wasn’t so wonderful. I said, “What did you do that for?” “That’s’ – he said – waved it off. I had the pleasure of doing something in London years ago. They had a drummers’ club there – 500 drummers. Buddy was one of the presidents, I was one of the presidents, and Kenny Clare was one of the presidents. Great drummer. I had received my silver platter, and so did Kenny. Buddy had not received his. We were both in London, and the drummer club guy called me up and said, “Lou, Buddy hasn’t received his silver platter yet. How about you presenting it to him in front of the 500 drummers?” I said, “Yeah. Okay.” We got there. Buddy was sitting there. I stood up. Had the silver platter in my hand. I said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to present this silver platter to the only guy I know that can walk into an empty room and start an argument.” He looked at me and said, “I was supposed to be the comedian.” I said, “Never mind. Here’s your silver platter.” It just came out that way. In fact Stan Irwin, who we talked about, was the manager for Pearl – he was a stand-up comic for years – he stole that line from me. I gave him that line. He says, “That’s great,” because he managed Buddy for a while, so he knew him. But even a guy like Buddy, some of the guys in the band still had to say some good things about him. He yelled and screamed, but for a purpose. He didn’t want anybody to play under what he does. When he goes on the bandstand, he gives it more than 100%. “That’s what I want my band to do. They want to do what I do: give over 100%.” So at first maybe they get mad at him. Later on they say, yeah, what I learned from that – I learned something – took lessons from that – learn how to play your best, no matter what. I had to use that when I played with that lousy drum set in Venice. I had to sit there and smile, say, “Lord, you’re giving me a test, so I’ll get through it.” I got through it. I don’t want to go through it again, but I got through it.
Brown: Did you have any more experiences that you look back on and say, whew, I’m glad that was the only time I had to deal with that one?
Bellson: No. Actually I was very fortunate that all the other experiences were just fabulous. That’s the one experience that I made up my mind, before I die, I want to go back there and see if the experience was still living, and I want to set up my drums and play for them, let them know I could still play.
Brown: You mentioned Pops. You had a chance to work with Pops. What was that like? Louis Armstrong.
Bellson: Wonderful. Great. He was an example of a guy – I never heard a bad word about him at all. Never. He made you feel like you – when you first meet him, he made you feel like you’re brothers, like you’ve known him for years. Down to earth. Bing Crosby loved him. Ella loved him. Pearl loved him. Presidents loved him. He did more going to Europe than the politicians ever [?] from Congress. He went over there, played one number, and made everybody come together. Louis Armstrong. When they talk about him, they talk about the beginning and the end. For me to have a chance to play – record with him and Ella together, and to play with Pops. I had an experience in Las Vegas at the Hilton Hotel. They had Louis Armstrong’s band and Pearl Bailey together. So our dressing rooms were together. Open the door, and there’s Louis. All that time we belonged together, Pearl was trying to get me to do a hobby – paint or do something besides drumming. “Why don’t you learn to do something else?” The three of us were walking from the dressing room to the stage together: Pops, Pearl, and myself. I was Little Louie, he was Big Louie, and Pearl was Pearl. So Pearl would say to Big Louie, “Big Louie, why don’t you teach Little Louie a hobby or something? He’s into drums. That’s great. But health wise, he should do something different.” So all that time for three weeks, Pops would shake his head and say “Yeah, oh yeah” in that growling voice, “Yeah yeah yeah.” Finally, during the last day, she said – Pearl said to Louis Armstrong on the way to the stage, “Did you come up with something, Louie?” He says, “I don’t know, Pearl. All I need is my trumpet, a bottle of booze, and a young chick. That’s all.” Pearl wouldn’t talk to either one of us. That was Louis Armstrong. I said, “Big Louie, you said the wrong thing. I’m in the doghouse with you. I’ll see you after the show.” During all this, humor was a big factor in a career of someone like I am. Humor, as well as artistry, having faith in what you do, playing for Presidents, playing for people all over the world, instilling your idea of what love is all about. Music carries you through sadness, through happiness, and humor plays a big part of that. We were able to go with the blows. If something happened to your family, we learned how to deal with it and carry on. All those things were very obvious with all the people we mentioned in this taping – the fact that they had humor. They learned how to cry as well as smile through objects. Can you imagine just let alone to know the obstacles that Ellington had working on the road in those early years? That’s something right there. But they were great enough to hurdle over those obstacles and come out shining like a rose. So that’s one of the other big factors I learned. That’s why I say I was fortunate to be able to play with all those great artists, because I had – it rubbed off on me. It rubbed off on Clark Terry. Anybody that worked with Duke had to have that kind of feeling for him. So today – you notice I don’t – you mention Duke’s name. All these different things come up, because he was such a giver, such a great man, that you use his name in happiness, in sadness, in humor, or in dignity, in life. Can’t beat that.
Brown: Do you think the music of today that we know as jazz – do you think it still contains all those elements?
Bellson: I think that jazz today is good. It’s good. The young players, like the college students – I could name some college bands that are fantastic. They can take my whole book, and they’ll play it. A lot of the young players, like Nicholas Payton, trumpet player – if Louis Armstrong were living, he’d say, “Yeah. He’s got it.” I know Nicholas Payton. I’ve played with him. Joshua Redman, saxophone player. Michael Brecker. Randy Brecker. I could name a whole bunch of young players that are into jazz. The word “jazz” – Duke never liked to use that word too much. He used to say, “Jazz is beyond category.” When you say that, that means, “good music.” He typified music as good music and bad music. We play good music. Bad music is something that doesn’t relate to music at all. It’s not even carnival music, because carnival music is great too. He always said, “Jazz is beyond category.” You can’t categorize it. It’s played by different people all over the world. It’s played by people who have a different idea of what jazz is. They play it, because they don’t realize what they’re doing. They know they’re playing American music, but it’s different than – they cop a few riffs and do it themselves. That’s tough to explain, because you’ve got young players today that are grabbing a hold of beyond category and bringing it up to another level. You can imagine the trumpet players that listen to Dizzy that are playing today, like Jon Faddis. They’re bringing it up to the present and going beyond that. That’s the best way I can describe it.
Brown: I teach at the university. All three of us are involved in music education as well. One of the things that I recognized, or noticed, about some of the younger generation today is, yes, they have incredible technical facility, but they don’t understand the love and the spirituality that goes into the music. They learn all the chops [technique]. They learn all their technique, but there’s the essence of the music that I think that you were alluding to earlier, about what keeps the music vibrant, what keeps it strong and inspirational. The people are good people. The music somehow instills in them a sense of humanity, and I don’t hear that thread continuing, because now the majority of people playing jazz aren’t learning it in the clubs and learning it from a master to a pupil. They’re learning it in the academic environment.
Bellson: That’s right.
Brown: I think some of that is being lost. Just like you said, this one example of this teacher who didn’t teach them how to swing. They didn’t teach them the essence of the music. They just taught them what the notes would sound like if they were played strict, without any sense of interpretation or with any background or fleshing out the music. This is something I’ve noticed, and I was wondering if this is something you’ve noticed as well.
Bellson: That’s a good analogy. I go way back to when me and the Rendezvous Club with a quartet. I played with them every Tuesday night. After I did that for two or three years, I was ready to go join Benny Goodman’s band. I was ready to swing, because I knew what swing was all about. I knew what was playing – the saxophone player, playing for a trumpet player, playing for a piano player. I gained all that knowledge. That enabled me to become where I am today. Then also the fact, what you brought up, the educational part of it. The young kids are being educated properly for music, but they don’t know the spiritual part of jazz. They haven’t – it’s like Pearl used to say – when somebody was interviewing her, she’d say – the interviewer’s say, “You always refer to ‘join the club.’ What do you mean by that?” She’d always use that when somebody was interviewing her that didn’t know what they were saying – didn’t know how to interview her. Then she’d finally say – the interview would say, “What do you mean by ‘join the club’?” She said, “I can’t tell you, because you haven’t paid your dues yet.” When you think about that – players have to pay their dues to reach a certain element. They have to go through the educational part, yes, but you have to – you’re not going to get that road experience too. You have to know what it was like to play in clubs and play with different players that have gone through all those obstacles which make them a great player.
Brown: I think this is what nurtured that humanity in the players in the past. It was the experience. It was the love that it took to play that music, that commitment. You had to be dedicated, because, as you mentioned earlier throughout this interview, the insurmountable odds that the early players had to go through, yourself included. To bring 100% when you got on that stage despite having to stay in some flea-bag hotel, or not even be admitted to that part of town. All those kinds of experiences, that comes out in the music. What I see with the last couple generations of jazz students coming out of the institutions and academies is that information, that whole context of the music, is not being taught, or being inculcated, or being – they’re not being exposed to it. So they’re just learning all their techniques, but I – when I listen to it, I don’t hear the humanity of the music. For me, then, we’re losing the music.
Bellson: That’s right. Another factor is – I remember Tony Bennett, who’s a dear brother. We’re like brothers. I call him every – like Clark Terry, same way. Every two weeks, Tony calls me or I call him. He was very close friends with Fred Astaire. Fred Astaire told Tony it took him ten years to learn how to walk from the backstage on the stage. Fred Astaire. It took him ten years to learn how to walk. [?]. But that’s right. In his early years, he practically stumbled on the stage, but then he learned how to walk on stage. Just that, without dancing. That’s something.
Brown: Since you brought up family, I wanted to talk – you mentioned your brother was also a teacher. Ken, off mike, we were talking about – did one of your brothers serve as your roadie?
Bellson: Oh yes, Henry. He’s the baby in the family. And Tony. There were three drummers in the family: Tony, who lives in Arizona; and Hank is the baby – Hank lives in Encino; and myself. Hank teaches. He won’t take a student that wants to learn just a rock beat. He says, “You’ll have to go to someone else, because if you want to learn how to play drums, I’ll teach you, but you have to have patience.” Some of his patients were good players. One is Jason Harnell, who’s worked a lot of gigs down in L.A. Another one is Jeremy. Vic Feldman. You know Feldman? From London? A drummer and piano player. He had a son, Jeremy Feldman. Plays great drums. He followed – he took lessons from Hank for about five years. Good player. The talent is out here. It’s got to be nurtured, and do what we did. Take step by step, and learn the process.
Brown: Those are invaluable words of wisdom. Is there anything else you want to make sure gets on the national record as far as the life and times of Louie Bellson, before we complete this interview?
Bellson: Learn how to take care of yourself, because at my age now, I wouldn’t be playing if I was into drugs, alcohol, not getting my rest to take care of myself. I wouldn’t be playing drums. I’d be wiped out. Drummers are like athletes. They have to have their hands and feet together. So I tell all the young – it’s wonderful that they have health food stores now all over the country, where they didn’t have that before, where young drummers are into health foods. Make sure they get their Cheerios for breakfast. Temper everything. I never was a drinker or a smoker. It was around me all my life, but I didn’t do it, because I knew what I had to do. I had to keep my body in shape in order to play the drums the way I wanted to play. And I had fun doing it. While some of the guys were on the bus with a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey, I was back there with a sack of apples. That felt just as good.
Brown: And you’re still here, and they’re not.
Bellson: Yeah. I’m still doing it. I had my apple this morning for breakfast. Taking care of yourself, and making your craft something that’s very sacred to you. We’re all drummers, and we make our drumming sacred. It’s something that we appreciate, we love, and we’re still doing. I think that, with that thought in mind, if the kids can learn that, they’ll be better off. At home, too. That word, respect – all three of us respect drumming, just like we respect our mothers and fathers. I look at television today and some of these sit-coms. I see the way the kids talk to their father. If I talked that way – first of all, I wouldn’t think about it. Otherwise I’d be ten feet away, hanging on a hanger.
Brown: None of us would be here, talking to our parents like that.
Bellson: But that’s lessons that we can all – they’re basic lessons that all we have to do is do them, and you’d be miles ahead.
Brown: Seems like – from the example of your life, seems like, get a good partner, too.
Bellson: Oh yeah. That’s right. Get a good – oh. I got two good partners. I didn’t think Francine would come on the scene. I thought that was it, because 39 years with somebody strong as Pearl – there was some kind of lady. You don’t go beyond that. The Lord gives you – I used to say, some guys don’t even have a year of that with a partner, or two years. Here He’s given me 39 years with a lady like that. Wow. Then here comes Francine. Just like Pearl. So when you get a blessing like that, a man gets twice, I’ve got to say, “You can take me home now. I’ve had my taste.”
Brown: I think on that note, maestro Louis Bellson, I just want to say on behalf of the Smithsonian Institution, thank you very much for inviting us to your home to be able to share these thoughts, your memories and your life, to be captured for the national record. You are joined here by Anthony Brown and Ken Kimery, and we extend to you our deepest and most sincere gratitude to you and to Francine for your hospitality and to you for your contribution to American musical culture. Thank you so much.
Bellson: Thank you for allowing me to talk about my career and all my ups and downs. It’s been my pleasure. Let’s continue doing this. As long as we live, we can add more to it. Don’t stop now.
Brown: On that note . . .
(transcribed and edited by Barry Kernfeld)
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