Bix Beiderbecke was one of the great jazz musicians of the 1920’s; he was also a child of the Jazz Age who drank himself to an early grave with illegal Prohibition liquor. His hard drinking and beautiful tone on the cornet made him a legend among musicians during his life. The legend of Bix grew even larger after he died. Bix never learned to read music very well, but he had an amazing ear even as a child. His parents disapproved of his playing music and sent him to a military school outside of Chicago in 1921. He was soon expelled for skipping class and became a full-time musician. In 1923 Beiderbecke joined the Wolverine Orchestra and recorded with them the following year. Bix was influenced a great deal by the Original Dixieland Jass Band, but soon surpassed their playing. In late 1924 Bix left the Wolverines to join Jean Goldkette’s Orchestra, but his inability to read music eventually resulted in him losing the job. In 1926 he spent some time with Frankie Trumbauer’s Orchestra where he recorded his solo piano masterpiece “In a Mist”. He also recorded some of his best work with Trumbauer and guitarist, Eddie Lang, under the name of Tram, Bix, and Eddie. Bix was able to bone up on his sight-reading enough to re-join Jean Goldkette’s Orchestra briefly, before signing up as a soloist with Paul Whiteman’s Orchestra. Whiteman’s Orchestra was the most popular band of the 1920’s and Bix enjoyed the prestige and money of playing with such a successful outfit, but it didn’t stop his drinking. In 1929 Bix’s drinking began to catch up with him. He suffered from delirium tremens and he had a nervous breakdown while playing with the Paul Whiteman Orchestra, and was eventually sent back to his parents in Davenport, Iowa to recover. It should be noted that Paul Whiteman was very good to Bix during his struggles. He kept Bix on full pay long after his breakdown, and promised him that his chair was always open in the Whiteman Orchestra, but, Bix was never the same again, and never rejoined the band. He returned to New York in 1930 and made a few more records with his friend Hoagy Carmichael and under the name of Bix Beiderbecke and his Orchestra. But mainly, he holed himself up in a rooming house in Queens, New York where he drank a lot and worked on his beautiful solo piano pieces “Candlelight”, “Flashes”, and “In The Dark” (played here by Ralph Sutton; Bix never recorded them). He died at age 28 in 1931 during an alcoholic seizure. The official cause of death was lobar pneumonia and edema of the brain.

For more information about Bix check out the Bix Beiderbecke Resources A Bixography

Thank you www.redhotjazz.com

Throughout the 1920s Smith recorded with many of the great Jazz musicians of that era, including Fletcher Henderson, James P. Johnson, Coleman Hawkins, Don Redman and Louis Armstrong. Her rendition of “St. Louis Blues” with Armstrong is considered by most critics to be one of finest recordings of the 1920s.

Bessie Smith was one of the biggest African-American stars of the 1920s and was popular with both Whites and African-Americans, but by 1931 the Classic Blues style of Bessie Smith was out of style and the Depression, radio, and sound movies had all damaged the record companies’ ability to sell records so Columbia dropped Smith from its roster. In 1933 she recorded for the last time under the direction of John Hammond for Okeh. The session was released under the name of Bessie Smith accompanied by Buck and his Band.

Despite having no record company Smith was still very popular in the South and continued to draw large crowds, although the money was not nearly as good as it had been in the 1920s. Bessie had started to style herself as a Swing musician and was on the verge of a comeback when her life was tragically cut short by an automobile accident in 1937. While driving with her lover Richard Morgan (Lionel Hampton’s uncle) in Mississippi their car rear-ended a slow moving truck and rolled over crushing Smith’s left arm and ribs. Smith bled to death by the time she reached the hospital. John Hammond caused quite a stir by writing an article in Downbeat magazine suggesting that Smith had bled to death because she had been taken to a White hospital and had been turned away. This proved not to be true, but the rumor persists to this day.

Courtesy of RedHotJazz.com

Ron Carter is among the most original, prolific, and influential bassists in jazz. With more than 2,000 albums to his credit, he has recorded with many of music’s greats: Tommy Flanagan, Gil Evans, Lena Horne, Bill Evans, B.B. King, the Kronos Quartet, Dexter Gordon, Wes Montgomery, and Bobby Timmons. In the early 1960s he performed throughout the United States in concert halls and nightclubs with Jaki Byard and Eric Dolphy. He later toured Europe with Cannonball Adderley. From 1963 to 1968, he was a member of the classic and acclaimed Miles Davis Quintet. He was named Outstanding Bassist of the Decade by the Detroit News, Jazz Bassist of the Year by Downbeat magazine, and Most Valuable Player by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences (from www.RonCarter.net).

I had the privilege of interviewing Mr. Carter in anticipation of a workshop he did at the University of New Orleans on Friday, January 22, 2010.  Following is a transcription of our talk. My questions are in boldface, and his answers are in italics.

When you think about the future of jazz, do you go dark, or do you get excited? Where is this music going to end up, do you think?

Every bandleader hopes that they know where jazz is headed, and they hope that their band is leading in that direction. Jazz will always be around. It doesn’t have the level of encouragement that other genres have, for whatever reason.

I’m never discouraged when I hear young people [play jazz]. I just did a master class at the Berklee School of Music in Boston for a bunch of 10 to 14-year-old kids. They were enthusiastic about the music and knew the names of some important jazz musicians. They were really involved in trying to learn how this music works for them. If we can keep this kind of youthful activity and interest in this music, it’s going be around forever.

You’ve played a fair amount of “free” jazz. Do you recommend
exploring that style of playing to your students? Why or why not?

You mean not getting paid, or “free jazz”?

Oh, no, I mean “free” jazz. It’s often the same thing, though, isn’t it?

(Laughs) It seems to be the same. I encourage students that any job is a free lesson for them. I’ve heard them say that the music isn’t hip enough for them or it didn’t maintain their focus. I tell them this is a chance to work on other avenues of playing their instruments. If you want to find a better half note, or a better sound for the notes, better intonation, or maybe you want to find a better way to play the parts every night, use that gig to work on those things. So, every instrument, every [type of] music, every musician who plays a job that’s not his favorite kind of job can find musical value in these situations. I’ve encouraged my students to look at that as free school.

What are the most important tools for young bassists to have
together on the bandstand?

Actually, the getting it together part starts way before the bandstand. They have to have a teacher. Music’s going too fast and it’s too complicated to continue to play it by ear and rely on pure instinct and talent. Musicians write parts for bass players, now, and they want to have the parts played. Well, if you can’t read it, you’re going to have a tough time. So my first recommendation to any bass player is to get a teacher. They’ll help you learn the instrument, help you find out how to get a better instrument, show you how to read music, show you how to practice. Show you how to develop a discipline on the instrument, and those are all things that are very critical — before you get to the bandstand.

Many of us who study jazz end up teaching jazz. What do you think makes a great jazz educator?

That’s a pretty easy question. Those educators whose classes I’ve enjoyed the most have been those who have actually been in the field, and who’ve played lots of gigs, and have sometimes NOT found the best bands to play in. They’ve traveled and gone through the hardships of transportation difficulties. They’ve also played in GREAT bands, and have enjoyed their success and have enjoyed the camaraderie.

How does a drummer’s playing style affect your own playing? How do you reach rhythmic agreement, when you work with so many different kinds of drummers?

Well, I’m taller than most drummers, so I kind of have a head start. (Laughs) Secondly, if a bass player brings a point of view to the bandstand of where he thinks the time is and is verbal enough to explain to the drummer where he thinks the time is, should they not be in the same place, they can work it out. One of the problems is that this music has no specific language. A word that means something to Person A means something completely different to Person B. So you have to find a kind of common verbal language with this drummer to try to help them find the right musical time path, as it were.

A good bass player should know how the drums operate. If he knows that the drums are pitched a certain way that is blocking out certain notes on the bass, he should be comfortable enough to tell the drummer, ask him, if he would change the pitch of this drum or change the tone of that drum. That’s something that’s really not that complicated for drummers to do. And I’ve found drummers look for advice, they look for recommendations, because they want to have a good time playing. They want to have a good sound. They want to have a good time feeling with the bass player, and they’re open to most suggestions. The bass player must, however, know to make the suggestions.

You have spoken in other interviews about New Orleans-style
drumming. Have you played with many drummers from here? In your opinion, what makes New Orleans drummers unique?

As far as the New Orleans drum style is concerned, my first exposure to the New Orleans drum sounds were with Billy Higgins and Ed Blackwell. It took me a while to feel where they were playing the beat. They played, if this makes sense, more straight up and down rather than slanted like Tony Williams or Billy Cobham. One thing that caught my attention was the beautiful sound they got on the snare. New Orleans drummers get a great, great snare drum sound. And anytime I find a drummer with that kind of snare drum sound, we can find something to do together. I heard Herlin the other day on a recording, and boy, what a great sound on the snare!

You work with many great jazz musicians all over the world. How is it different working with, say, Milton Nascimento, i.e., playing Brazilian music with Brazilians, versus playing Brazilian music with Americans?

Well, the natives always do what the natives do best. The Brazilian musicians have a different sound on the guitar. The drum rhythms are a little more complicated than the way Americans typically play Brazilian styles. I have had the pleasure of playing with some fabulous Brazilian drummers. And I enjoy playing Brazilian music with American drummers. The feel is not quite the same, but equally enjoyable with an American drummer playing Brazilian music.

If you find the rhythms more complicated, do you find it challenging to rhythmically agree with Brazilian musicians?

The sound is an important factor, because the Brazilian drums are pitched differently. And certainly, their rhythms are a little more complicated. They’ve kind of gotten a little “freer” than the records we heard with Stan Getz when he first brought Brazilian music to the States in the 60s. The drummers down there are much more aggressive than the kind of conservative Brazilian approach by most American drummers.

I see. And you just figure out how to make that work and have a great time because you’re such a fantastic musician with so much experience in doing that?

You can say all that again, I don’t care. (Laughs)

Well you know it’s true.

Ok. (Laughs)

Thank you so much for spending time with me today. I’m really looking forward to the workshop at UNO.

Me, too. See you Friday at 1:00!

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The workshop was presented Friday, January 22, 2010 at the University of New Orleans courtesy of the National Endowment of the Arts, the Theloneious Monk Institute of Jazz, and the University of New Orleans Jazz Studies Program.

Carter also has a new authorized (and collaborative) biography written by Dan Ouellette called Finding the Right Notes. The 435-page book chronicles the artist’s colorful life from his first days as a musician until early 2007. It is only available online through www.ArtistShare.com.

Sidney Bechet

From Red Hot Jazz

Thank You  RedHotJazz.com.

Jelly Roll Morton was the first great composer and piano player of Jazz. He was a talented arranger who wrote special scores that took advantage of the three-minute limitations of the 78 rpm records. But more than all these things, he was a real character whose spirit shines brightly through history, like his diamond studded smile. As a teenager Jelly Roll Morton worked in the whorehouses of Storyville as a piano player. From 1904 to 1917 Jelly Roll rambled around the South. He worked as a gambler, pool shark, pimp, vaudeville comedian and as a pianist. He was an important transitional figure between ragtime and jazz piano styles. He played on the West Coast from 1917 to 1922 and then moved to Chicago and where he hit his stride. Morton’s 1923 and 1924 recordings of piano solos for the Gennett label were very popular and influential. He formed the band the Red Hot Peppers and made a series of classic records for Victor. The recordings he made in Chicago featured some of the best New Orleans sidemen like Kid Ory, Barney Bigard, Johnny Dodds, Johnny St. Cyr and Baby Dodds. Morton relocated to New York in 1928 and continued to record for Victor until 1930. His New York version of The Red Hot Peppers featured sidemen like Bubber Miley, Pops Foster and Zutty Singleton. Like so many of the Hot Jazz musicians, the Depression was hard on Jelly Roll. Hot Jazz was out of style. The public preferred the smoother sounds of the big bands. He fell upon hard times after 1930 and even lost the diamond he had in his front tooth, but ended up playing piano in a dive bar in Washington D.C. In 1938 Alan Lomax recorded him in for series of interviews about early Jazz for the Library of Congress, but it wasn’t until a decade later that these interviews were released to the public. Jelly Roll died just before the Dixieland revival rescued so many of his peers from musical obscurity. He blamed his declining health on a voodoo spell.

For more information about Jelly Roll Morton’s life and music you are encouraged to visit Monrovia Sound Studio’s Jelly Roll Morton Page

-B