Battling the Jersey Rocket

Regarding my post on Willie The Lion Smith, Eubie Blake and Donald Lambert playing at the 1960 Newport Jazz Festival, superb stride pianist Mike Lipskin, who was Eubie's and The Lion's protégé, has written in the Stride Piano Yahoo group:

"The many times I was with Eubie at home, recording a 10 hours interview for the Rutgers Jazz Institute, he would often praise some pianist, and always do so about James P. Johnson, but just as often would talk of others and not praise them. I never heard him go overboard about Jelly Roll Morton or Scott Joplin as pianists, though he liked their compositions.

He loved Luckey Roberts and respected him very much. They were close friends. However, he once commented with a laugh that Luckey "ruined the voice of many singers" by not modulating if their range was in another key, but simply playing down or up one octave.

When he and Willie the Lion were on the bill with Donald Lambert at the Newport Jazz Festival, Lambert performed before they did. Eubie said to Willie "How the hell are we going to follow him?""

That's how even such stride/ragtime masters were scared of battling the Jersey Rocket!

Martin Williams on jazz romanticism

"We would do such men [King Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton] wrong to make them the victims of our own romanticism or nostalgia. Yet the music itself has been the victim of romanticism. A player considered an amiable amateur by his elders is dug up by the more exclusive partisans of New Orleans jazz, who go into verbal ecstasies when he executes a major triad. A ditty originally written in New York City for comedian Bert Williams is hallowed as a "traditional New Orleans piece". A trumpeter adds a few obvious pick-up notes and some doublings to an old blues theme, and his work is transcribed and picked over like variants in a Shakespearean text. Dozens of men who stayed at home, simply because they were not good enough musicians to undertake Chicago or New York, find themselves more prolifically recorded than an important player like Jimmy Noone.

(...)

I ask you to glance with me at two aspects of New Orleans and its traditional music today. First, there is a local jazz appreciation club. It's Jim Crow.

Second, as I write there are a couple of halls in the city hiring the older musicians and functioning as tourist attractions. One of them is shrewdly operated, and some players feel they offer conditions that are awful for performance and in backstage facilities. Both frequently hire honest but third- and fourth-rate players -"ham-fat musicians" the performers call them because they grease their instrument valves with ham fat. Some of them, for all their robust charm and admirable energy, can't keep steady time or play in tune. And some of them are apt to find themselves with a local following and, as a result, get recorded. When they do, they may very well get glowing national reviews as the noble bearers of the great tradition.

It is not so much that King Oliver turns in his grave when such pronouncements are made. It's that a skillful and knowledgeable musician in New Orleans today, now in his late fifties, sixties or even seventies, is apt to be turning in his tracks."

Martin Williams in "Jazz Masters Of New Orleans" (published by The MacMillan Company, 1967)

Baby Dodds footage

Born in New Orleans, Louisiana, on December 24, 1898, Warren Baby Dodds, brother of clarinettist Johnny Dodds, was one of first great drummers of jazz. Listing just three of the groups he recorded with is like a “who’s who” on classic New Orleans Chicago-recorded jazz: King Oliver’s Creole Band, Jelly Roll Morton’s Red Hot Peppers and Louis Armstrong & His Hot Seven.

Here’s Baby Dodds in what must be the first instructional jazz movie ever (1946) and, as far as I know, the only existing footage of him, doing his trademark press roll and soloing on tom-tom with some foot muffle over a rhythmically simplified background piano statement of the “Tea For Two” theme.

Joe Turner - Pianists in my life (2/3)

Second part of "Joe Turner - Pianists In My Life" as told to Johnny Simmen.

"(...) Shortly after, I had a tour of the west with Adelaide Hall (as accompanist, together with the late Alex Hill, my good friend- in fact it was a piano duo), but before we left we had trouble with Alex, and Francis Carter, also a good pianist, joined us. Benny Carter told me that when I reached Toledo, Ohio, I should not play any piano because there was a blind boy there called Art Tatum and I would not be able to touch him. When the Adelaide Hall troupe finally reached Toledo, I asked where I could find Art and I was given the address of a buffet flat where he would appear every night at two o’clock, after his work. After finishing at the theatre at midnight I went there and waited for Art to arrive. In the meantime, I played some good stuff on the piano there and two girls sitting near the piano started an argument over my playing compared with Art’s. One girl said “He’ll wash Art away”, while the other was insisting “Just wait until Art gets here and you’ll see how he’ll cut this boy!”. Art Tatum arrived at two o’clock. He asked me if I was the Joe Turner who had made a reputation with a fine arrangement of “Liza”. I said that it was me and begged him to play piano for me. After he had refused to play before hearing me (and of course with Art I lost the argument) I played first “Dinah” for warming up and then my “Liza”. When I had finished Art said “Pretty good”, and I was offended, because everywhere else that I played “Liza” it was considered sensational and there was Art Tatum saying “pretty good”! After that, Art sat down and played “Three Little Words”. Three thousand words would have been an understatement!!! We became the greatest of friends after that. Art came to my home the next morning and even before I had left my bed I heard him in the parlor play my arrangement of “Liza” note for note. After hearing it only once the night before! By the way, he liked it so much that some time later he recorded it exactly as I played it.

When I left Toledo I took his name and address with intentions of bringing him to New York, to team with me, especially since we were having troubles with Francis Carter. But when we returned to New York the troubles switched over to me and left the act, although they wanted to get rid of Francis. Since he was the only one left who knew the act, they kept him. Being honest with everyone, I gave Adelaide Hall Art Tatum’s address and that’s how he came to New York. Many people believed until now that I played together with Art -unfortunately I did not. Although I was supposed to have done, because of so much explaining, I decided not to deny anyone's belief that I had (that’s something putting all the discographies upside-down!) So I declare: Francis Carter made “I’m In The Mood For Love” with me, not Art Tatum, and Francis Carter played in my place with Art Tatum.

Now to mention some more pianists who really gave me solid kicks in my life:

Lucky (sic) Roberts, Fats Waller, who was the best friend I ever had, Willie The Lion Smith -the most unpredictable pianist of all time because if Tatum played, if Fats played, if James P. played, if anyone in Harlem played, we could pretty well guess what their feature number would be- but, when The Lion roared you never knew what was coming. By the way, The Lion and I are always in correspondence, reminiscing about the old times and discussing events in the present day jazz world. We are still having fun together, in spite of The Lion roaring in New York while I’m beating it out all over Switzerland.

There is one other pianist whose genius I would like to have heard beside that of Art Tatum: Seminole (Abalabba). He was the greatest trick pianist I have ever heard. I have jammed together with him many times and I know quite well that he was one of the wonders of our time. It would have been wonderful to have heard two geniuses in a contest, but Tatum came to New York after Seminole had already died.

Many times I heard Jelly Roll Morton brag about the things he’d done for jazz and much to my amazement he would always prove every statement. This leaves us to the one fact about Jelly Roll. This is that the mere mention of the history of jazz without his name in capitals, is bunk. Teddy Wilson came to New York and played with Benny Carter’s orchestra at Connie’s Inn. He gave me no peace until I had taught him some of those smashing minor thirds that I had learned from James P. Johnson and Fats Waller. There is no doubt that Teddy Wilson is one of the cleanest technicians of our time.

Another name I cannot leave out is that of Donald Lambert who came often to New York from New Jersey, always looking for cutting contests. Believe me, when he finished throwing that left hand very few people had even a desire to walk past the piano, let alone play it!

Another old friend of mine who would stutter in his speech but never in his playing, and whose left hand is comparable to that of the Lion, James P., The Beetle and Kirby Walker, is Willie Gant. Willie would always get Kirby Walker and hunt for me because it seems that my left had worried him a bit so he decided between him and Kirby Walker they could give me all the troubles I needed because they both had (and have) dynamite lefts (...)."

Jelly Roll Pete - mystery pianist

A couple of years ago, a kind US jazz collector sent me a copy of a promo CD by a pianist called Jelly Roll Pete on a label called Hilarity. Reportedly, this promo CD was originally acquired at a ragtime festival in the mid-80s and the disc was never released (it was going to be issued as Hilarity cd#001). The artwork included no information except for the name of the pianist, label and track list.

This obscure disc seems to have been an unsolved mystery for years. On the suspicion that the pianist may be using a pseudonym, the disc has been sent to a number of classical jazz and ragtime pianists – among them Butch Thompson – but unfortunately nobody in the old-style jazz piano circles has been able to recognize who’s playing.

Unquestionably, he/she is a very accomplished player in a very convincing Jelly Roll Morton style. The disc contains a bunch of Jelly Roll Morton tunes ("Finger Buster / The Finger Breaker" and "Jelly Roll Blues" among others), a few ragtime numbers, a couple of blues, a very interesting version of Gershwin's "'S Wonderful" and three tracks that I had never heard of and that may be originals ("Margie Martin's Blues", "Nancy's Joys" and "Katrina's Wiggle").

If anybody reading this blog has ever listened to or heard about this disc…

…or has any piece of information on such a "Jelly Roll Pete" pianist…

…or has any reference of a “Hilarity” label…

…Please help me solve this mystery!

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Hace un par de años, un amable coleccionista norteamericano me mandó una copia de un CD promocional grabado por un pianista que se hacía llamar Jelly Roll Pete, editado en un desconocido sello de nombre Hilarity. Según me contó, esta copia promocional había sido adquirida en un festival de ragtime sobre el año 1985. El CD finalmente no llegó a editarse (el número de catálogo preasignado era Hilarity CD#001). El libreto no incluía ninguna información adicional, sólo el nombre del pianista, el sello y el listado de temas.

Este oscuro disco ha sido un misterio irresoluble durante muchos años. Con la sospecha de que el pianista podía ser alguien conocido que estaba utilizando un seudónimo, se envió el disco a unos cuántos pianistas de jazz clásico y ragtime (entre ellos el gran Butch Thompson) para ver si podían identificarlo, pero por desgracia hasta la fecha nadie ha sido capaz de hacerlo.

Sin duda, se trata de un magnífico pianista, capaz de tocar en el estilo de Jelly Roll Morton de forma muy convincente. El disco incluye un puñado de temas de Jerry Roll Morton (entre ellos “Finger Buster / The Finger Breaker” y “Jelly Roll Blues”), unos cuántos rags, un par de blues, una interesante versión de “’S Wonderful” de Gershwin y tres temas que al menos el que suscribe nunca había oído ni siquiera mencionar y que podrían ser composiciones propias (“Margie Martin’s Blues”, “Nancy’s Joys” y “Katrina’s Wiggle”).

Si alguien que esté leyendo este blog ha escuchado este disco o ha oído mencionar algo sobre él, sobre el misterioso pianista o sobre un sello llamado “Hilarity”…

¡…Quizás pueda ayudar a resolver este misterio!

Jelly Roll Morton & The Lion: Finger Buster vs The Finger Breaker

In his memoirs, Willie The Lion Smith recalls the story of a mythical cutting contest between him and Jelly Roll Morton in the early thirties:

“Some people used to put me on by asking whether jazz was born in New Orleans and whether or not Jelly Roll invented it. I said once that was one of the worst things I ever heard. What I meant was that most of the jazz I knew was, in the beginning, from the brickyards. And another thing, jazz comes from the person’s soul and not from a state. But Jelly Roll was a guy who always talked a lot.

He used to be around the Rhythm Club every day and stand out on the corner and he used to bull and con all those fellows. He had his twenty-dollar gold piece on and he’d stand out there with a bankroll, meaning money, so every time I’d come around, almost all the guys who used to play piano kept quiet. Sometimes I’d lay for Fats and Jimmy [James P. Johnson]. Sometimes I’d even lay for Tatum. But I used to come around especially on Friday and Saturday looking for Jelly. I went around this one Friday and he was standing on the corner."

“Look, Mr. One-Hand,” I said, “let’s go inside and let me give you your lessons in cutting.” So Jelly and I would go inside by the piano. I was the only one he would stand and listen to and then he didn’t open his mouth. I must have played nearly everything you could name and when I got through, I said, “Well, Jelly, you’ll keep quiet now.” And, true as I’m sitting here, Jelly would be quiet.”

In “Willie the Lion”, a documentary produced and directed by Marc Fields, Willie recalls the encounter in a slightly different way:

“Well, I knew Jelly Roll well. I think I was the one of the few who did know him… He was a character. Quite a talker, he had a habit of tearing people apart. I challenged him in the Hoofer’s Club, in the Rhythm Club, I got him before nearly 300 musicians and I said “You call the terms and I’ll call them on the piano, and I’m gonna make you remember piano as long as you live”. And I could.”

After that, whenever anybody referred to Jelly Roll Morton, the Lion would say, “Oh, you mean Mr. One-Hand”, noting the supremacy of the “two-fisted” (as they used to call themselves) Harlem piano players. In fact, in New Orleans and Chicago, Morton was generally known that he could cut people, but when he went to New York, the New York pianists really intimidated him, and Willie did.

In that era of house rent parties and cutting contests, every tickler used to have a challenge piece to defeat the competition. For a time, Willie The Lion Smith had “Finger Buster”, a piece that, in Dick Hyman’s words “was clearly throwing down the gauntlet, so that no amateurs would dare to compete the mighty Lion as he strode into a place.”

“Finger Buster” was composed (in F) by The Lion in 1934 and recorded that same year, but this first version remained unissued for many years. The first 32 bars of this piece were written at Clarence Williams’ office while the Lion was doing technique exercises, and The Lion said he invented it by playing around with a scale as fast and as loud as he could.

As pianist Tom Roberts describes in the liner notes for his own disc “In The Lion’s Den” (Stomp Off Records CD 1392), “the most remarkable section of the tune is the second strain. Here the left hand plays a beautiful descending counter line simultaneously with a variation on the Charleston rhythm while the right hand plays a figure in contrary motion. Rhythmically, tension is created by the juxtaposition of right hand figures in 3 against the left hand in 4. At the end of the 2nd strain, as well as the coda of the entire piece, he strays far away from the conventional chords associated with the key and creates one of his most magical musical moments”.

The definitive solo recording of this piece came in the famous January 10, 1939 session for Commodore (where he cut 14 wonderful piano solos) and was issued on Commodore 522 coupled with “Rippling Waters”.


In the Jazz Man recording session from December 1938, that took place at the Rialto Theater Building in Washington, Jelly Roll Morton cut five sides, one of them being a piano solo piece called “Finger Buster” (matrix number MLB-145) issued on Jazz Man JM 12, coupled with “Creepy Feeling”. “Finger Buster” contains a mighty left hand that thunders up and down the octaves, while the right hand flies with a torrent of arpeggios and trills. Everything goes at super fast speed (metronomique speed rises up to 304) and in the last part pianist Morten Gunnar Larsen sees “a conscious caricature of stride piano technique”. In November 1942 the name of the tune was changed to “The Finger Breaker”, when Roy Carew made a copyright application to the Library of Congress. Morton had not bothered to do so himself, on the assumption that his amazing, breakneck, bravura piano piece would deter all competitions. Other sources state that the piece was called “The Finger Breaker” from the start and that I got mislabeled in the Jazz Man 78 rpm disc.

Anyway, through the years, Willie The Lion Smith’s “Finger Buster” and Jelly Roll Morton’s “Finger Buster/The Finger Breaker”, which are certainly different pieces, have been mistaken in liner notes and discographical notes from quite a few reissues. A different matter is Leonard Feather’s assertion, in the liner notes for Dick Hyman’s Columbia LP with the music of Jelly Roll Morton, that Morton’s “The Finger Breaker” was his only real piece of "stride" piano. As pianist Butch Thompson told us in the Stride Piano List a few years ago, “it isn't stride piano and doesn't sound like it. It sounds like Morton playing fast, but nothing like James P. or any of the others. Morton's right hand riffs are not characteristic stride figures and the left hand bass notes are an octave higher than you would expect from a fully fledged stride player. Morton was his own man.”