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“With many 'tribute' big bands, the aim is to replicate the records note for note. It's technically admirable, and there always seems to be a market
for it. This is not that sort of band. Like Tubby's own big bands, this is a jazz orchestra, with the original charts a jumping-off point for improvisation, just as they were at the Bull's Head, the Manor House or the Torrington all those years ago.
This music lives and breathes, and what is obvious is the glee felt by these musicians in playing material of this quality. Many of them weren't even
born when Tubby Hayes died, the bandleader included. Even your writer missed sharing the Earth with Tubbs by five days. Yet they get it. This stuff
is as fresh and challenging as the day it was written.”
- Louis Barfe
At one time or another many, if not most, Jazz musicians want to try their hand at playing in a big band.
When you are in one that clicks, there’s nothing in the world like it.
The surge of energy and rhythmic propulsion generated by a powerful big band leaves you giddy with excitement.
Navigating your way through a big band arrangement with fifteen or so companion musicians creates a sense of deep satisfaction that comes from successfully meeting a difficult challenge.
The art of individualism, which is so much a part of Jazz, gets put aside and is replaced by the teamwork and shared cooperation of playing in an ensemble setting.
When it all comes together you feel like you’re in love; overwhelmed by something bigger than you that you don’t understand.
You gotta pay attention; you gotta concentrate and you gotta do your best, otherwise it’s a train wreck.
So much goes into it:
- great charts [arrangements]
- great section leaders
- great soloists
- a great rhythm section
- and most of all, a great leader who melds it all together.
Enter tenor saxophonist, arranger, and bandleader - Simon Spillett - who, in the case of a big band dedicated to performing the music of Tubby Hayes, is the “great leader who melds it all together.”
[And, as many readers already know, Simon is also an author who writes gloriously about Jazz in general and the late Tubby Hayes (1935-1973), in particular.]
However, while it’s challenging enough to bring a big band together for all the reasons noted above, producing a big band recording today raises the difficulty factor associated with larger ensembles to an almost infinite degree of stress.
Making rehearsals and performing at gigs are all well and good but the ultimate reward for most musicians who associate with a big band is to be able to play on a recording that features the music they’ve been laboring to polish and perfect since they first went on the band.
But while performing with a big band may be artistically satisfying, the market for selling a recording of its music is so limited that it is not a commercially viable enterprise for outside capital to invest in.
So how do you bring the thing off?
Simon Spillett explains how it all came about and why in this backstory that forms a part of the insert notes booklet to Dear Tubby H - The Simon Spillett, released in 2023 on the mister PC label.
“The idea of this album - and this band - have been in my mind for thirty-odd years, since my late teens when, having begun to delve into the fascinating culture of 'bootleg' radio broadcasts, passed covertly between veteran jazz collectors, I discovered that there was so much more to the Tubby Hayes Big Band than the sixteen arrangements heard on their classic studio-recorded albums 'Tubbs Tours' (1964) and '100% Proof (1966).
Although it existed sporadically over its thirteen or so year lifespan, Tubby's big band was a working outfit with a pad full of compositions and arrangements used on its live, radio and television performances. Many of these were heard only in person or luckily survived on tape owing to the efforts of enthusiastic home-tapers, including Tubby himself.
Over the years since my life-changing discovery of Tubby's music (around twelve years of age) I often wondered what had become of these 'lost' pieces. Then, as I began to meet and work with musicians who had known and played with Tubby - and, of course, research his life for my biography of him - all sorts of interesting things began to emerge from the archival woodwork. Indeed, by 2010, I had accumulated, via the generosity of people like trumpeter Ian Hamer, and pianist Johnny Patrick, a veritable working pad of Hayes-associated material.
So what to do with it? Over the next few years I occasionally played these charts as a guest soloist with various big bands across the UK, but what I really dreamed of was hearing it played by my own choice of players; a who's who of British jazz who, like Tubby's original band, would comprise a genuine 'jazz orchestra', full to the brim of improvising soloists, many respected bandleaders in their own right.
... and here it is, at last. Formed in 2020 but really coming into its own two years later with sold out gigs at jazz festivals and clubs up and down the country, this is a band of genuine world class ranking, one I'm incredibly proud to present in public and now, finally, on record playing music that I've long felt deserved a more appropriate fate than obscurity.
In making this album happen I'm particularly indebted to several musicians; first to Pete Cater, who as well as drumming to perfection, shares my vision for the preservation and promotion of this music. I'd also like to thank Alan Barnes and Pete Long for their invaluable practical advice on many aspects of leading a band of this size. Similarly, a huge debt of gratitude is due to Mark Nightingale, a musician with ears like radar who painstakingly recopied Tubby's faded scores, added missing parts and more generally transformed music well-loved if not well cared for into the playable pristine pad it is today, a game-changer for all of us associated with this project.
Finally, I would like to dedicate this recording to the two people who continue to inspire me every day; first my late father Richard, who introduced me to Tubby Hayes' music all those years ago and who sadly passed away just as my big band was taking shape. I know he'd have been knocked out to see all this come to fruition.
I also dedicate our performance to the late Tina May, my partner who, as well as being our finest jazz vocalist, just happened to have changed the life of a certain saxophonist involved with this album forever. She believed in this music and in the man who had the idea of bringing it together and I've a feeling she'd have loved the results. 'Peace' is played for you, by the way, my love.
So Dad and Tina - and Tubby, of course -I hope you're smiling on our efforts. As for me, I'm very, very proud of every note and every musician here; added together they've truly made a dream come true.”
Simon Spillett
April 2023
And here’s considerably more detail about this milestone recording from Louis Barfe’s contribution to the insert notes including a description of how each track on the recording went down:
“It is just after 10am in the music department of Trinity School, Croydon. Although it is the Easter holidays, some pupils are still milling about. Concerns are raised about extraneous sounds being picked up by the microphones. Should there not be signs up saying 'Silence: Recording in progress'? Engineer Chris Traves replies instantly: "It's a nice idea, but I'm not too bothered. Wait until you hear the noise this makes."
A very fine noise it is too. Seventeen of the UK's finest jazz musicians playing some of the best music ever scored for a big band. That's the idea, anyway. The idea of Simon Spillett and Pete Cater.
Over his years researching the life and work of the British jazz pioneer and polymath Tubby Hayes, Spillett had amassed a library of Tubbs' big band charts. These yellowing artifacts had been vital to his understanding of the man and his music, but Spillett kept thinking that it was a crying shame that these pieces weren't being played. In many cases, the music had never made it onto a commercial record, having been written for gigs and broadcasts. Pieces by Hayes himself, as well as trumpeters Jimmy Deuchar and Ian Hamer.
Out went the call for anyone interested in joining a rehearsal band, based around the nucleus of the Spillett quartet to blow through the material and bring it to life again. Sometimes these calls receive wide interest but no commitment, and nothing ever happens. That, however, was reckoning without Simon's tendency to make things happen, and also the enduring power of Tubby Hayes' name. History repeated itself as many of the the country's top players indicated immediate and enthusiastic interest. The quality of talent on offer made Spillett wonder if the project wasn't a fully professional proposition.
Gigs were arranged, and the Simon Spillett Big Band made its public debut in a pub garden in Warwickshire. Not the Marquee, but certainly a marquee. From the first downbeat, it was clear that this band was something very special indeed. The idea had become reality. The mouldering dots had been brought to glorious life. This wasn't an exercise in archaeology. It was modern jazz proving how modern it still was, and what a fertile ground for improvisation Hayes had bequeathed.
With many 'tribute' big bands, the aim is to replicate the records note for note. It's technically admirable, and there always seems to be a market for it. This is not that sort of band. Like Tubby's own big bands, this is a jazz orchestra, with the original charts a jumping-off point for improvisation, just as they were at the Bull's Head, the Manor House or the Torrington all those years ago.
This music lives and breathes, and what is obvious is the glee felt by these musicians in playing material of this quality. Many of them weren't even born when Tubby Hayes died, the bandleader included. Even your writer missed sharing the Earth with Tubbs by five days. Yet they get it. This stuff is as fresh and challenging as the day it was written.
After that debut show on Friday 7th February 2020, everything looked extremely promising for the Simon Spillett Big Band. At this point, we shall pause for a brief outbreak of hollow, maniacal laughter.
Within a month, nothing looked promising for anybody. The pause button was pressed on live music, a seemingly impossible feat previously. Some even wondered if it was 'stop' rather than 'pause'. Even rehearsals were illegal (This is not entirely unfair. The floor under a trumpet section qualifies as a superspreader event in itself.), but as far as I know, no speakeasies sprung up other than at 10 Downing Street.
When the world returned eventually to a semblance of its former self, Simon returned to this project, determined to regain the momentum it had in
the before times. He also renewed his association with drummer Pete Cater, a man often associated with big band music but equally happy in a small group setting. I say 'happy'. Pete is a very funny man who loves his work, but I overheard an audience member at the Swansea Jazz Festival asking him why he didn't smile more. Don't be fooled by the expression - we stick wielders call it 'drumface'. He's smiling inside. Usually.
Like Simon, Pete is somebody who makes things happen, and after a run of gigs that turned the band into a streamlined express train, it became clear to both that a recording needed to be made. With his experience of getting things funded, made and released, Cater put his business hat on, and in the end started his own record label, largely to get this album out. It was agreed that there was no point in revisiting the material that Hayes had put out commercially in his lifetime, no matter how well these numbers went down at live shows.
There were some initial problems with the monitoring in the studio, leading trumpeter Freddie Gavita, obviously a Matt Berry fan, to joke "I can't hear you, Clem Fandango". Pianist Rob Barren asked if the monitor sound was compressed. 'Depressed,' replied trombonist Jon Stokes. By 10.47am, however, everything was seemingly set. The red light went on and Simon Spillett counted in a take of Hayes' Benny Golson-esque composition As Close As You Are. Thirty seconds later, it stopped. The headphone problem was unresolved. Mercifully, this was sorted quickly, and proved to be the only hitch in the whole day.
The norm for the session would be two takes. No matter how blistering a first take might be, it never hurts to have backup. The solo order you hear is Spillett himself, followed by Freddie Gavita, with Alec Dankworth bringing up the rear.
Once our glorious leader Spillett, producer Cater and engineer Traves had indicated satisfaction, it was time to move on, and just after 11 am, the band got stuck into Take Your Partners For The Blues, a piece Hayes wrote for a 1961 programme on the BBC Third Programme called 'Jazz Session: Spotlight on the Arranger'.
This piece is the perfect example of why this band needs to exist. I'd heard the original broadcast version many times and always enjoyed it. However, it was hearing it played live at the Swansea Jazz Festival in 2022 that propelled it into my pantheon of Hayes favourites. I think it was Alan Barnes' baritone chorus that grabbed my ears there, and he heads the solo order here, followed by Ian Bateman, Steve Fishwick, George Hogg, Alex Garnett and Simon Allen.
Fish Soup is one of Ian Hamer's many contributions to the Hayes band's pad, with a hint of Tubby's own Commonwealth Blues about it. It proved a little tricky to get under the fingers, even for musicians of this calibre, but on take two, all was well, breaking Traves' rule that the first takes were generally the best. Solos come from Simon Allen, who also takes the final break, Freddie Gavita and Rob Barren.
Allen was also the first soloist on the next number up, Rumpus, an aptly-titled Hayes original that always went down a storm at gigs in the latter days of the band. Freddie Gavita takes the flugelhorn solo.
Next up on the recording order was Horace Silver's Peace, arranged by Hayes for the aforementioned 1961 Third Programme broadcast. At the live shows, Simon has dedicated this yearning piece to his late and much-missed partner, the singer Tina May. Freddie Gavita and Steve Fishwick play beautifully in her memory.
The last tune before the lunch break was Tubbs' arrangement of Star Eyes, with solos from Mark Nightingale and Pete Cater. Two takes in the can and then it was out and across a dual carriageway to the nearest pub for a pint of bitter.
At 3pm came the downbeat for Dear Johnny B, a piece recorded by Tubby in quartet mode on his 'Mexican Green' album, but only ever heard in big band form on broadcasts. This number, which inspired the title of this album, was written in tribute to Johnny Butts, one of Hayes' favourite drummers, who died far too young in a road traffic accident. Pete Cater sets the clock, with Sammy Mayne taking the alto solo and Steve Fishwick burning it up on trumpet.
Hayes’ last big band broadcast before his untimely death was in March 1973, and it provided the next two numbers on the day's agenda. Solweig, a gentle bossa nova that rises in power, written for his partner Liz Gronlund, features Steve Fishwick (that man again) on flugelhorn, and Simon Spillett on tenor saxophone. It's a glorious piece and it deserves to be known outside those with coveted tapes of that original broadcast. That's why it's here.
The other piece from that 1973 session, She Insulted Me In Marrakech, named after an incident involving Hayes' mother and stepfather on a holiday is enormous fun. Such fun in fact, that it was the only tune of the day where a second take was superfluous. Lightning had been trapped in a bottle, so a second strike was unlikely. Incidentally, you can have plenty of fun at home singing Bruce Forsyth's Generation Game theme over the head. I know I do. Solos come from Pete Long (another musician whose wicked humour informed the tone of the session) on alto, Freddie Gavita on trumpet and Pete Cater.
The next piece was Soft and Supple, a Hayes original somewhat in the Golson mode again, featuring Simon Allen on tenor, Alan Barnes on baritone, Freddie Gavita (a recurring theme in these notes - a rising star and a very funny chap to boot).
Seven Steps to Heaven is almost a rule-breaker. It was recorded at the sessions for Tubby's 100% Proof, big band album, but not released until the 'Complete Fontana Recordings' boxed set in 2019. The original tune is credited to British-born multi-instrumentalist Victor Feldman and Miles Davis, and it's suggested that Feldman composed a much more complicated piece that Davis edited and pared down. It's a soaring Hayes chart, showcasing Freddie Gavita on trumpet, Pete Cater on drums, Alex Garnett on tenor, and Rob Barren on piano.
The session was running comfortably to time, but an element of jeopardy entered the proceedings. "We've got one more take," Traves noted, "The piano's starting to drift very slightly out of tune." To my cloth ears, it sounded fine (well, more than fine, and how could it not under the hands of Rob Barren?), but to someone with perfect pitch, it was like a case of toothache. The last title recorded before it all went a bit Winifred Atwell's 'other piano' was Blues for Pipkins, written by Hayes for his partner Joy Marshall - full name Joan Pipkins Marshall. Solos come from Steve Fishwick, Mark Nightingale and Rob Barren.
The observation about the tuning indicates how pivotal Chris Traves' contribution to the whole process was. He didn't just choose the microphones and work the faders. His humour helped set the mood for the whole session, and his ears fine tuned the music. Simon Spillett has made his feelings about the artificiality of the recording process well known over the years, and how it is vanishingly rare to provide a representative performance when the red light is on. Here, he feels he's done himself justice, and credits Traves fully with enabling that.
Credit must also be given to Mark Nightingale, who, as well as his always inspiring work on trombone, had taken the original scrawled manuscripts and laid them out so they were clear and easy to read, and in some cases, correcting howlers on the part of the copyists. The business of the session would have been less brisk if the band had been squinting at the old, fading charts, many of which resemble third generation photocopies of the
Dead Sea Scrolls.
The final word can go to Traves. In the control room, he started a playback and turned to me. "Listen to that," he said, "I'll polish it in the mix, but it's all there, isn't it? It sounds right." It really did, and it really does. Here's to many more.”
Louis Barfe
April 2023
If you are looking for something special to put in the Christmas stocking of your favorite big band fan you need look no further than a pristine copy of Dear Tubby H: Simon Spillett Big Band.
Both the CD and digital version of the recording are available for purchase using this link to Bandcamp.
