Saturday, August 7, 2021

Johnny Mandel on Sinatra, Shirley and the Singers: Part 5 - The Smithsonian Interview

 © Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.



The following is excerpted from the JOHNNY MANDEL [1925-2020] NEA Jazz Master (2011) interview that was conducted by Bill Kirchner on April 20-21, 1995 in New York City. The 179 page transcript is in the Archives Center, National Museum of American History of the Smithsonian which can be reached at www.archivescenter@si.edu.


This part of the interview talks about his work with Frank Sinatra, Shirley Horn and other vocalists and is very revealing in terms of Johnny’s ability to adapt his composing and arranging skills to a wide variety of both personal and professional situations and requirements. 


This adaptability, one that plays to an artist’s strengths while offsetting their weaknesses, was one of the main reasons for Johnny’s enduring success in the business of commercial and popular music.


As with the previous postings, please be patient as Bill and Johnny have a tendency to wander all over the place during the course of the interview. And be sure to stick around for the planned Mandel & Miles collaboration.


“Kirchner: Let's talk a bit more about the Sinatra album. 


Mandel: Okay.


Kirchner: One thing that struck me as it being a particularly difficult assignment is there were no tunes that were ballads, there were no tunes that were really up, the most they seem to be medium slow to medium and it struck me it must've been a really hard assignment to write say ten or twelve charts all at approximately the same tempo.


Mandel: Yeah, there were a few charts in there that I did not write. 


Kirchner: Oh really? 


Mandel: Yeah. 


Kirchner: Which ones?


Mandel:  I didn't have time. Oh, I didn't write, "Be Careful, It's My Heart,' didn't write... I wrote only parts of some charts. I didn't write, "I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm," I don't think, oh I wrote some parts of it, you can recognize what I did, and what I didn't, I think if you're familiar with. When I'd really get in a hurry and I was so slow because Sinatra quite frankly had me psyching myself out because I wanted to do that job so right so badly that I took about three, four times as long on a chart as I should've and I ran into a lot of difficulty. And as a result some of it I had to farm out at the last minute just to get it on the stands and…


Kirchner: How did you get the call for it in the first place?


Mandel: Oh, he'd heard some stuff I'd done for Vic Damone, he'd heard stuff for David Allyn, you know he'd heard about me. He'd go into nightclubs and wanted to know who wrote those charts and they'd be me, that kind of stuff,


Kirchner: He's one of the few singers I’ve ever heard in concert who announces the names of all the arrangers.


Mandel: Yeah, what a gentleman, God bless him because nobody does, does Mel Torme? Does he announce himself?

[They both laugh]


Mandel: You're right, nobody does, even Tony [Bennett] I don't think does as a rule.


Kirchner: No.


Mandel: No. I think Nat Cole did, you know as they say, "It don't cost you nothing," and it'd be really nice if more people would.


Kirchner: It's just a gracious gesture.


Mandel: It is, you'd think Natalie [Cole] would've listened to her old man but no. But she sure can sing.


Kirchner: How did you collaborate with Sinatra on getting the album together? Did...


Mandel: Oh, he told me what tunes he wanted to do, we picked out keys, he didn't like to rehearse, ever, he hates rehearsing. And it went like clockwork you know, I found him very easy and I found him to be a total gentleman all the way through.


Kirchner: Does he want to do complete takes or does he... 


Mandel: Yes.


Kirchner: No splices?


Mandel: The only problem we ever had with each other was when I made him do, "You and the Night and the Music," over. He wanted to go home, it was the last tune of the date and there was a huge fat clam in the trumpets, in fact [Conrad] Gozzo [lead trumpet] made it. And...


Kirchner: So you couldn't hide it?


Mandel: I couldn't let it go and he already had two girls on each arm he's like, "Hey, come on let's go home and boogie, let's get out of here Charlie," and I said, "Ah-ah," and he didn't like that at all. He had to stay and do another take because - he didn't like it, because he puts all his energy into that previous take you know. He's a kamikaze singer, he can't really - he hates to rehearse because there's no pressure on him, he needs to have the entourage, not because he needs the entourage he just likes to have a lot of people really scrutinizing him on dates, he needs a crowd to work to. He sounds like a different singer when you've got him alone in the room and he's uncomfortable singing, it's almost like he doesn't really enjoy singing often, for its own sake. But when he gets up in front of an audience it's such a challenge that he mentally just makes it happen, you know, he's got that strong a mind that he could make the whole thing take place. You know only in the last several years or ten years or so, since the instrument's been failing him can't he do it, but you know he'd be in bad shape, hoarse and all that kind of thing and he'd get out there and sounded wonderfully and you knew it was strictly through mental control that he'd do it. And Streisand has much the same approach to singing in that way, they don't sing anything alike but she's just that strong, she's that strongly fixed mentally, she makes it happen.


Kirchner: Although ironically she got intense stage fright and didn't perform in public for twenty years.


Mandel: That's right.


Kirchner: That's the big difference between her and Sinatra.


Mandel: Well, that's true.


Kirchner: But as far as the mental processes that sounds very plausible with both of them.


Mandel: Um-hm, this happens to singers you know, one very fine singer who is very underrated because of the image that she cultivated was Doris Day, who got so paranoid about performing she used to — you know I knew her in the bands [laughs] it reminds me of a great line Oscar Levant used to use, "I knew Doris Day before she was a virgin."

[They both laugh]


Mandel: And she was really a nice girl and a wonderful singer but she got so paranoid, you know every night she'd sing in front of bands, in front of all kinds of people and was totally uninhibited but something happened along the way to where she got so she wouldn't even sing with the band on record dates. She used to, as soon as they allowed overdubbing she would send everybody home and then do her vocals by herself and never performed in person. You never saw her going to Vegas and anything like that and she always could sing, she was very much of an Ella Fitzgerald type of clone. In fact Natalie sounds amazing like her at times, Natalie Cole.


Kirchner: Interesting.


Mandel: We made a record of, "The Christmas Song," and she sounds like Doris Day on that thing.


Kirchner: Would this be an appropriate time to just talk about who your favorite singers are, you've been mentioning a few.


Mandel: Oh yeah, Peggy Lee for openers. Shirley Horn, I like singers that sound like they are singing in your ear. I don't like belters, particularly  - that's a personal... but I can admire belters, I just don't like being yelled at, especially in love songs.


Kirchner: They're not much fun to write for either.


Mandel: Some are better than others but I don't see how anybody can get any intimacy when they're singing that loud, it's an old tradition of singing, hit the fourth balcony type of singing. And some people think that's a great thing to do, well it's an endurance contest that's for sure, it's hard on the instrument. But I always like the Billie Holiday, Peggy Lee, Carmen McRae, good straight-forward singers that are very musical, Jeri Southern, I mean these are the kinds of singers that personally I like the best. Sinatra I don't think has ever had a peer, nobody even comes close. Sinatra, Tony, Bing Crosby was wonderful in his own way, he actually blazed the trail, he was the first really good microphone singer.


Kirchner: Now you were talking about Shirley Horn, you came - Shirley is a relatively recent collaboration of yours so I'd like to talk about that a bit.


Mandel: Okay, we're getting ahead of ourselves but that's all right. 


Kirchner: Well we seem to be skipping around a bit... 


Mandel: Sure.


Kirchner: But as long as I keep my druthers and cover what... 


Mandel: Okay.


Kirchner: Should be covered, I don't mind if you don't.


Mandel: I don't mind. Shirley was as recently as 1990,I think.


Kirchner:  '90, '91 I believe.


Mandel: Yeah probably and I'd gladly do it again and so would she.


Kirchner: It's just that Verve [Records] has to come up with the appropriate budget of course.


Mandel: Yeah.


Kirchner: But I think the record you did for her, Here's to Life,  if she never does anything else like it, that's the record that's going to be what she's remembered for more than anything.


Mandel: I'd like to think so, I'd love to think so, although she's made many wonderful records. I love the I Thought About You: Live at Vine St. record.


Kirchner: Yeah.


Mandel: Shirley is so special, you know you just, I don't see how you could do... well you could do her badly but I sure wouldn't want to.

[They both laugh]


Kirchner: Most of that was done with her laying down trio tracks and you writing right?


Mandel:  Oh yeah, because she can't really divorce herself from the piano. We did two tracks without her playing and she's never recorded like that, except back in the early days when Quincy recorded her, he didn't let her play. And God anybody who doesn't let her play is a... well anyway when she did these two tunes, "Here's to Life," and, "Where do You Start," she didn't know what to do with her hands. She wears these little gloves that she plays with and she kept taking them off and putting them on, and she went crazy trying to not play and to sing [laughs] so all the other tracks on that album she did lay down her tracks and then I just took the orchestra and went everywhere that she wasn't, is the best way I can describe the technique I used for writing that. Stuff that would work against what she did but complement it.

Kirchner: And according to Joel Siegel's liner notes you had given her the tape, the Mike Lang tape that goes with your songbook.


Mandel: Yeah.


Kirchner: So that she knew the voicing's that you wanted on your tunes. 


Mandel: Not particularly, well I gave her the songbook. 


Kirchner: Yeah,

Mandel: No, not particularly, besides Shirley has her own ideas, very firm ideas about chords herself. We just happen to fortunately think quite alike when it comes to voicing but we disagreed quite a few times on chord choices but she is unswayable, you go with her. And it's right for her, if it's right for her it's right for me is how I feel about it. With some people I'll fight about things like that, with Shirley I won't because her instincts are so sound.


Kirchner: So she recorded as I recall what, three of your tunes, she did on that particular record...


Mandel: On that one, yeah.


Kirchner: "A Time for Love", "Where do you Start?" and my all time favorite version of, "Quietly There."


Mandel: Yeah, yeah.


Kirchner: Now as I recall Miles was supposed to play on that album but died before the date, right?


Mandel: That's right, he was supposed to play on, "A Time for Love," he was supposed to play all the places that Wynton ended up playing on, Wynton Marsalis.


Kirchner: So, that would have been your chance, the chance that you never had to work with Miles.


Mandel: Well Miles and I were going to do an album too.


Kirchner: Really?


Mandel: Yeah.


Kirchner: When?


Mandel: Just shortly before he died.


Kirchner: How much...


Mandel: We were finally getting together.


Kirchner: Really?


Mandel: Yeah, and it just never happened just like this never happened.


Kirchner: But tell me more.


Mandel: Well... it was gonna be another one of the type of Gil Evans type things that he had done and I was gonna be very careful that I wouldn't be the E-Flat Gil Evans you know, you don't want to, that's somebody... following Gil Evans you gotta be very careful because it was done right the first time, [laughs] And I wouldn't try to really do that, we weren't gonna remake any of that stuff, it was gonna do new stuff, it was gonna be a whole project unto itself.


Kirchner: What kind of material would you have done? 


Mandel: Hadn't gotten that far.


Kirchner: It's interesting that he wanted to do, I mean at the time he was in the late 80s he was pretty much wrapped up with pop, with pop funk things.


Mandel: Well Miles as a person if you look at his career, he would go through a period, like he had the small band quintet, then he went through the Gil Evans period with large orchestras, then he went into more funk type quintet's later on and then you know into the Coltrane era and all that kind of thing and then got into the Bitches Brew period and in other words Miles never liked to repeat himself or do anything again. But finally towards the end of his life even though we didn't realize it he was starting to - Quincy kept bugging him about this 'cause it was gonna be on Qwest and wanted to get Miles to — you know and Miles just never liked to look back, he wasn't that kind of a guy and that's why he shied away from doing things he had done before not because he didn't think there were valid he just liked doing new things. He was similar to Gil that way, to Gil Evans.


Kirchner: Now did you talk with Miles directly about this project.


Mandel: Really only had one conversation, it was over the phone, but we agreed, we wanted to do it.


Kirchner: When was this around 1990 or so?


Mandel: Yeah, right about.


Kirchner: Oh, that's...


Mandel: I really wished we had done it,


Kirchner: That's tragic that that didn't happen.


Mandel: Well it is, but it didn't happen, so you know.


Kirchner: An unfair but interesting question, what kind of instrumentation do you think you would have used, would you use strings, what would you have used?


Mandel: It would have been dictated by what kind of material we did, what I wrote and all that. That would have dictated it. Yeah, chances are I would have used strings, might have used a similar type of instrumentation to what I used in The Sandpiper, or possibly on the Sanborn [David] album [Pearls] but it would have been a totally different kind of album. Probably a lot more esoteric, I'm not sure where it would have gone, which is why I can't say what instruments I'd have used. It's too early in the game when you don't even have your material to try and decide what kind of a setting you're gonna use for it.


Kirchner: Of course. Well speaking of The Sandpiper, why don't we jump back to say the early 60s.


Mandel: 1964. 


Kirchner: Yes. 


Mandel: Alright.


Kirchner: Or, in fairness that you said after you'd done, I Want to Live! you had done TV writing, you had done a couple of B movies.


Mandel: I did a lot of vocal albums. 


Kirchner: And we've discussed those.


Mandel: And really... then did the Andy Williams, I was gonna say Andy Warhol, Andy Williams and right after the Andy Williams thing, I really got connected up with Filmways [Production Company] and got a shot to do The Americanization of Emily, a very good picture, a chance to write a song, something I hadn't foreseen. And my first song of any consequence, even though when I look back now I had written songs that could've been songs. But I never thought of myself as a songwriter.


Kirchner: "Just a Child," goes under that category doesn't it?


Mandel: Yeah, and stuff from, I Want to Live!, "Barbara's theme,'" you know several themes that could've taken lyrics.


Kirchner: Oh, that reminds me...


Mandel: "Black Nightgown," a lot of those could've taken lyrics.


Kirchner: Three of those tunes, "Barbara's Theme," and, "Black Nightgown," and the theme from, “I Want to Live!” you did charts for Gerry Mulligan on.

Mandel: Yeah.


Kirchner: That Mulligan recorded with a concert jazz band.


Mandel: Yeah, I think so, right, yeah.


Kirchner: So basically, he just called you and said I like all these tunes that I played on the score or heard on the score and I'd like you to do charts for my band?


Mandel: Yeah, it was it, and I was around New York at that time, so I went and rehearsed the band and all that stuff.


Kirchner: Apparently he brought Holman east to work in New York...


Mandel: That's right; Bill was with us at the same time.


Kirchner: So you just did those three charts then? You didn't do anything else?


Mandel: Yeah, that's all 'cause I'd left New York after that, went back home to California.


Kirchner: But he recorded all three of them.


Mandel: Um-hm.


Kirchner: And they all sounded terrific.


Mandel: Great, well with those players, good God, you could've written stuff that wasn't very good and it would've sounded terrific.


Kirchner: Yeah, Stan Getz later recorded, "Barbara's Theme."


Mandel: That's another thing I didn't know, you have to watch Stan Getz at all times or he's libel to record something of yours.

[They both laugh]


Kirchner: Have you heard that record? 


Mandel: No, I haven't.


Kirchner: It's going to be reissued shortly; it was on an album called, Voices, that was done with a rhythm section with Herbie Hancock and Ron Carter and Grady Tate.


Mandel: Oh, I'd like to have heard that combination.


Kirchner: And a chorus with Claus Ogerman arrangements.


Mandel: I'd really like to have heard that, a chorus and Claus plus strings?


Kirchner: No, no strings, just a chorus and rhythm section.


Mandel: Well if Claus wrote the vocal parts I would've liked it.


Kirchner: Yeah it'll be out in June.


Mandel: Sounds like a Creed Taylor production.


Kirchner: Definitely. From the mid-60s and as a matter of fact, what the only...


Mandel: Was it like a Blossom Dearie type chorus?


Kirchner: No it's...


Mandel: 'Cause she was very good at choruses, you remember she had the Blue Keys over in Paris.


Kirchner: Um-hm.


Mandel: She knew how to write for voices.


Kirchner: Yeah, it was Hipper than say a Ray Conniff type concept, or something like that,,,


Mandel: Oh, oh, well, you know...


Kirchner: And they did some good tunes, well they did, "Barbara's Theme," although they mistitled it, "I Want to Live," but they did that, they did, "Where Flamingos Fly," the John Benson Brooks tune.


Mandel: Oh yeah...


Kirchner: "I Didn't Know What Time it Was."


Mandel: The one Gil Evans made such a magnificent record with Jimmy Knepper.


Kirchner: Yeah.


Mandel: Yeah.


Kirchner: And one before that with Helen Merrill that he did.


Mandel: Oh yeah, Helen Merrill I was in love with, not -I didn't know her but just her singing. That's another singer I used to love. Her, Jeri Southern, you know the kind of singer, Julie London in her day, I like those kinds of singers, the understated ones.


Kirchner: That's a dying art it would seem,


Mandel: You know, what amazes me is, I hear a singer like Sade, she does - if you look at the pop market, she does everything wrong. Have you ever listened to her particularly?


Kirchner: Yes.


Mandel: She's a jazz singer, although nobody will call her that. She does everything, she sings like that, I like that kind of a singer. And for some reason she's a huge hit and I don't understand it, because a lot of other singers get out there and try and do that and fall flat. And yet she resorts to 

no kind of theatrics, she just sings like that. You know the records aren't really great.


Kirchner: The material isn't that great.”


To be continued.



Friday, August 6, 2021

Dave Frishberg by Gordon Jack

 © Copyright ® Steven Cerra, copyright protected; all rights reserved.


“Dave Frishberg has become jazz's definitive singer-songwriter-pianist, and his strengths and weaknesses typify the genre: Though he doesn't have Carmichael's gift for really great melodies, and his lyrics, while funny, don't compare with Mercer's (and unlike Mercer, his singing isn't strong enough to fill an album), his piano playing could (and did) stand on its own—-but that isn't the point. What matters is that Frishberg puts it all together into a very entertaining package, which works as a whole partially because none of the individual elements have to stand on their own.”

- Will Friedwald, Jazz Singing [1990]


“The pitfalls of romance, the shallowness of imagery, the glories of the past—Dave Frishberg nails each of those, and more, with wit, warmth and infectious musicianship.

His lyrics are full of comic and serious messages, all inextricably wedded to the music. But his messages are equally clear on his instrumental—he is, after all, first a piano player —whether paying homage to the late Al Cohn with a medley or injecting a rollicking spirit and a rolling-thunder bass line into Duke Ellington's The Mooche.

There's a distinctive lilting abandon to his piano chops. The kicker, of course, is when he adds his lyrics, infusing the words with phrasing that reflects his deadpan, owlish expression.”

- Stuart Troup, Insert Notes to Let’s Eat Home [Concord CCD-4402]


"In the lyric to Dear Bix Dave Frishberg, in praise of the late Beiderbecke, comments "you're no ordinary standard B-flat run-of-the-mill guy." That's the way I feel about Frishberg himself, and about his music.

On this LP the musically ubiquitous Frishberg seems to be everywhere at once, both on the keyboard and in the selection and arrangements of tunes. I might also add that, prior to "surrendering to the lure of music" (as he put it to me recently) Frishberg was a journalist and writer and certainly could add to the quality of written commentary on jazz and popular music any time he put pen to paper.

An intense, introspective musician, Frishberg has a sharp sense of humor as well as a dedication to the finer aspects of American popular music. His work on this recording as musical producer, pianist, vocalist and arranger indicate his talents and versatility.

There is a touch of the sentimental and the traditional in what Frishberg creates yet he is by no means a musical reactionary or a "mouldy fig" in the jazz fans' sense. He assumes professionalism and expert musicianship around him but has none of the stuffiness or rigid musical taste that often identifies the "studio musician."

In jazz, it isn't that nothing is sacred. It is, specifically, that the name "jazz" means a way of playing (or interpreting) rather than what is being played. Perfect and accurate reading of a printed score is within the abilities of most jazzmen these days—but it is the ability to personalize one's interpretation of that score, or tune, that makes for the finest jazz expression.

It has always been that way, and Dave Frishberg is a marvelous example of that kind of personalized instrumentalist and composer.”

- PHILIP ELWOOD, notes to Getting Some Fun Out of Life [Concord CCD-4037]


“Messrs. Dorough and Frishberg are anything but an odd couple.

Each came to New York as an aspiring jazz pianist, then found that he had a knack for writing and singing as well as playing songs. The no-bull philosophies of their tunes, and the unrefined honesty of their voices, have led each to be celebrated as one-of-a-kind, yet they are nothing less than soul brothers of song.”

- Bob Blumenthal, notes to Bob Dorough and Dave Frishberg, Who’s On First [Blue Note 7243 5 23403 2 3]



Gordon Jack is a frequent contributor to the Jazz Journal and a very generous friend in allowing JazzProfiles to re-publish his perceptive and well-researched writings on various topics about Jazz and its makers. His writing style has all the hallmarks of a good narrative and, as such, always makes for a pleasant reading experience.


Gordon is the author of Fifties Jazz Talk An Oral Retrospective and he also developed the Gerry Mulligan discography in Raymond Horricks’ book Gerry Mulligan’s Ark.


The following article was published in the July 23 and August 2, 2021 edition of Jazz Journal. 


For more information and subscriptions please visit www.jazzjournal.co.uk


© -Gordon Jack/JazzJournal, copyright protected; all rights reserved; used with the author’s permission.


The title of Dave Frishberg’s autobiography My Dear Departed Past tells you nearly everything you need to know about the pianist-composer, because like many of us of a certain age he is heavily into nostalgia. Sport, especially baseball is one of his passions and wistful memories about former ball-players are often sentimentally described in his compositions. The tour de force Van Lingle Mungo for instance is a hymn not only to Mungo (a Brooklyn Dodgers pitcher from 1931 to 1945) but also to the 36 former players cleverly name-checked in the lyrics. Other baseball- themed songs over the years have included The Sports Page, Play Ball, Dodger Blue and Matty. He wrote Dodger Blue in 1977 to celebrate the Dodgers’ 20th. Anniversary in Los Angeles and Sue Raney sang it at the ball-park. On his 2005 Jazz Bakery recording he points out that the Dodgers had spent more time in Los Angeles than they did in Brooklyn. Matty is a deeply felt tribute to Christy Mathewson who spent seventeen years as a pitcher with the New York Giants.   



Some of his songs like Sweet Kentucky Ham, One Horse Town and The Dear Departed Past have an innocent, almost Norman Rockwell-like vein of Americana in their evocative descriptions of small-town life. A world too that Hoagy Carmichael, Willard Robison and Johnny Mercer often returned to  over the years. He is probably better known for more sophisticated material like Peel Me A Grape, My Attorney Bernie and I’m Hip ( a collaboration with his friend Bob Dorough) which have been recorded by Anita O’Day, Meredith d’Ambrosio, Cleo Laine, Mel Torme’, Blossom Dearie, Shirley Horn and Diana Krall and many others. He told Randy Smith that he particularly liked the way Blossom Dearie performed his compositions because of her relaxed, under-stated delivery. It should always be remembered that his songs were initially conceived as personal vehicles. In an interview with Monk Rowe he readily admitted “When I write it’s for the limitations of my vocal ability because (the melodies) are not designed to project virtuosity.” (His voice is an acquired taste but it’s one I acquired a long time ago). Back in the sixties before his song-writing genius had been acknowledged he had served a ten year apprenticeship on the Manhattan jazz scene as one of the house-pianists (along with Roger Kellaway and Ross Tompkins) at the celebrated Half Note – “The hippest place in town”.



He was born in St. Paul, Minnesota on 23 March 1933 and during WW 11 he listened to his older brother’s record collection which included sides by Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, Cab Calloway, Count Basie, Bing Crosby, Ella Fitzgerald and Mildred Bailey. He also developed a life-long love of Gilbert and Sullivan and even at a young age he was able to sing most of the Mikado from memory. Pianists were particularly important because he was beginning to learn the instrument and Frishberg was exposed to Art Tatum, Teddy Wilson and Mel Powell together with earlier maestros like Albert Ammons, Pete Johnson and Meade Lux Lewis. When his piano teacher introduced him to Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie he “Fell under the spell of bebop”. He began sitting-in occasionally at local clubs when visiting stars like Charlie Ventura, Conte Candoli or Serge Chaloff came to town.


After graduating from the University of Minnesota the federal government claimed him for the next two years which were spent at an Air Force base in Salt Lake City, Utah. Completing his military service in 1957 he packed his records, books and clothes into a Chevrolet Bel Air and drove across the country to the Mecca of jazz - New York City. Obtaining a day-job there at one of the city’s premier radio stations he wrote continuity material for use between the shows on WNEW. He then began life as a full-time musician performing six nights a week in a piano-bar from nine to two for 75 dollars a week. He was invited to audition for Kai Winding’s four-trombone group at Nola’s Studio and over dinner at Charlie’s Tavern Kai told him he had the job which was a six week tour of the south. 


Getting back to the city he worked at the (in)famous Page Three club in Greenwich Village which was about a block away from the Village Vanguard. It was apparently a museum of sexual lifestyles that provided continual entertainment from 9 p.m. to 4 a.m. and Tiny Tim who was just starting out appeared occasionally. There were some fringe benefits at the club and one of them was backing Sheila Jordan but Frishberg soon decided to move on. Apparently Cecil Taylor became one of his replacements but he only lasted for one night and history does not reveal if Tiny Tim was on the bill at the time.  A little later Blossom Dearie introduced Dave to Bob Dorough and they began work on their first collaboration - I’m Hip - with Frishberg’s lyrics (which came first) and Dorough’s music.



He began playing with Bud Freeman at Eddie Condon’s club and Steve Swallow thought he was, “A wonderful jazz player with a hot style all his own. He could join a three-horn ensemble and instantly fake a perfect fourth part.”  He worked with Dick Haymes and had an unhappy time with Anita O’Day – “Be wary of scat singers and don’t encourage them”. She did put Peel Me A Grape on the map with her 1962 Time For Two album with Cal Tjader. During one of her engagements in the mid sixties at the Half Note, Judy Garland visited the club and Anita asked her to sit in. It went so well that Ms Garland asked Frishberg to become her musical director. She wanted him to join her on an up-coming trip to England but it was clear that she was really unwell so the pianist turned her down. Judy Garland died in 1969. 


He had a more enjoyable time when he was playing with Gene Krupa’s quartet between 1962 and 1964 mostly at the Metropole in NYC with occasional out of town trips to New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Maryland. Kenny O’Brien or Bill Takas were on bass with Eddie Wasserman on tenor who was replaced by Charlie Ventura during a two week booking at the Steel Pier, Atlantic City. Although they didn’t agree totally on music they had one interest in common – baseball - because Krupa was a “Rabid Chicago White Sox fan”.


In the summer of 1963 he became a member of Ben Webster’s quartet that for the next six months or so performed around town at the Shalimar, the Half Note, Birdland, the Village Vanguard and the Cafe’ Au Go Go. One of the regulars at the Shalimar was Malcolm X who found common cause with Dave in their mutual love of baseball - America’s National Pastime. The regular bass player was Richard Davis but there was a revolving cast of drummers that included some of New York’s finest - Mel Lewis, Elvin Jones, Grady Tate, Philly Joe Jones, Denzil Best and Mickey Roker. Occasionally Johnny Hodges, Paul Gonsalves, Ray Nance or Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis sat in here and there.  On one occasion Webster took Dave to a Duke Ellington rehearsal at Basin Street East. Introducing him to Duke he said that Frishberg “Could really play” which of course meant a lot to Dave but he knew the pianist Ben really missed was his good friend Jimmy Rowles who was living in Los Angeles at the time. When Al Cohn and Zoot Sims heard him at the Shalimar they hired him for their upcoming New York dates which began a relationship that lasted until Frishberg left town ten years later.


He became one of the house-pianists at the Half-Note backing visiting stars like Roy Eldridge, Ben Webster, Richie Kamuca, Bob Brookmeyer, Clark Terry and Jimmy Rushing. The club stayed open until four in the morning and the pay was ninety dollars a week although this could be supplemented by rehearsing the occasional singer.  His longest association there was with the Al ’n Zoot combination who appeared at the club on a regular basis. In a series of interviews for The Note he spoke movingly of his experiences playing with them: “The customers knew something pure was going on up there on the bandstand. Even the plain-clothes detectives wolfing their free meatball sandwiches in the kitchen knew they were witnessing something special. You were on the scene each night making music with two immortals in their prime.” Apparently Ben Webster had similar feelings about the two tenors because he “Absolutely adored them”. Paul Desmond said listening to them at the Half Note, “Was like having your back scratched”. One memorable night around closing time Cannonball Adderley arrived and shouted from the door – “John Haley Sims, Alvin Gilbert Cohn don’t stop now!”. Over the years Half Note radio broadcasts featuring Frishberg with Rushing, Kamuca, Cohn and Sims have been released on the Dot Time, High Note and Philology labels. 



By 1971 with work getting scarce in New York, he was given the opportunity to relocate to Los Angeles. He was offered a contract to write songs and special material for an NBC television show called The Funny Side hosted by Gene Kelly. His classic The Sports Page was introduced at this time. He also worked on jingles and other shows like Charlie’s Angels and he often played at Donte’s with people like Joe Pass and Jack Sheldon. He occasionally sat-in with Bill Berry’s big band and for a couple of years he travelled with Herb Alpert’s reformed Tijuana Brass – “First class all the way, like travelling with the New York Yankees”.


During his Californian sojourn he recorded six notable albums. His 1977 release with Marshal Royal premiered Dear Bix which of course is a heart-felt hymn to the trumpeter. In 1984 he was recorded at Hollywood’s Vine Street where in addition to his own material he performed an instrumental medley of ten titles associated with Johnny Hodges. In 1986 he introduced Zoot Walks In at The Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. Based on The Red Door it was co-composed by Zoot Sims and Gerry Mulligan and was first recorded on a 1952 album with Cohn, Sims and Kai Winding. His 1989 release – Let’s Eat Home – features Al Cohn and Billy Strayhorn medleys among other gems. In 1999 he appeared at The Jazz Bakery in a duo with Bob Dorough titled Who’s On First? which of course was the name of one of Abbott & Costello’s most famous routines – it’s on Youtube. It dates from 1936 and was apparently a particular favourite of President Roosevelt. In 2005 he was featured at The Jazz Bakery again on an album titled Retromania - a fitting album title for a master of nostalgia.


His final CD was recorded at New York’s famous Algonquin Hotel in 2011 with vocalist Jessica Molaskey. The man Gene Lees once called a “National Treasure” has suffered some medical setbacks in recent years and his website includes an appeal for help to meet the anticipated cost of treatment.”


Selected Discography


Getting Some Fun Out Of Life. Hollywood, January 1977 (Concord CJ37).

Live At Vine Street. Hollywood, October 1984 (Original Jazz Classics OJCCD 832-2).

Can’t Take You Nowhere. San Francisco, September 1986 (Fantasy FCD9651-2).

Let’s Eat Home. Hollywood, August 1989 (Concord Jazz CCD 4402).

Who’s On First? (With Bob Dorough). The Jazz Bakery, Los Angeles November 1999 (Blue Note 5-23403).

Retromania.  The Jazz Bakery, Los Angeles May 2005 (Arbors Jazz ARCD 19334).


I would like to acknowledge the help received from Bob Weir, Randy Smith and the Jazz Institute in Darmstadt, Germany while researching this article.