Bill Smith * Near-Myth/Brubeck-Smith * Fantasy Records * OJC-236 (F-3319) * March 20, 1961

Side A

1. The Unihorn
2. Bach An' All
3. Siren Song
4. Pan's Pipes
5. By Jupiter

Side B

1. Baggin' The Dragon
2. Apollo's Axe
3. The Sailor And The Mermaid
4. Nep-Tune
5. Pan Dance

Bill Smith - clarinet

Dave Brubeck - piano

Gene Wright - bass

Joe Morello - drums

I've been avoiding a review of this masterpiece for years. In the early days of this blog, a hastily written summary of mine appeared, taken down almost immediately, as the quick write up really didn't do the album justice. In light of the passing of Bill Smith this past February 29th, however, it's time I made some attempt to describe what is one of the great treasures of jazz clarinet history.  

On March 20, 1961, Bill Smith went into the studio to record his third album with Dave Brubeck. It was unprecedented in that all three discs featured set lists entirely composed by Smith--not a single Brubeck original or standard among them. Near-Myth can be seen as a culmination of his collaborations with Brubeck. Like The Riddle, Smith utilizes the technique of thematic transformation, reiterating the opening motif from 'The Unihorn' in different settings and guises throughout. Unlike the earlier album, however, this isn't one piece--the thematic usage therefore lends coherence to ten nearly perfect jazz clarinet tunes, united in a song cycle, with a quartet performance for the ages (with Brubeck's piano joined by Gene Wright on bass and Joe Morello on drums).

Near-Myth/Brubeck Smith LP
Eric Seddon Collection

Buddy DeFranco once said somewhere that he considered Artie Shaw's famous 'Stardust' solo to be the greatest jazz solo ever played. I'm not sure he fully believed that; perhaps he just wanted to emphasize the beauty and power of that chorus, and the effect it had on him. I've always been glad he said it though--it gives us all permission to gush a bit. In a similar way, I find it hard to be objective about Bill Smith's opening solo on 'The Unihorn.' To me it seems the greatest modern jazz solo ever taken on a clarinet. Within a couple of choruses, he's unraveled musical ideas filled with such beauty, intelligence, meaning, and so idiomatic to the clarinet that they wouldn't have the same power on any other instrument. His playing is modern with such a strong and original musical identity that it's not beholden to other modern jazz influences--and that is rare for clarinetists.

By the end of the solo, Smith has casually and lyrically carried the line to the 'top' of the natural range of the clarinet (the same double high C that Artie Shaw ended his Concerto on so dramatically). Smith smashes this ceiling, however, on the very last note of 'Pan's Pipes', where he uses a mute to achieve an E four notes above it. This is one of the most breathtaking moments on the album--he hits the note softly and clearly, and sings it like the harmonic on a violin.  

Smith generally takes a joking and whimsical tone with his half of the album's liner notes, but he also points out some important aspects of the music, mentioning the use of multiphonics in 'Siren Song', piano harmonics employed in 'Apollo's Axe', and timpani sticks used on the strings of the piano for 'Baggin' the Dragon' (the miniature masterpiece that opens the original  B side of the album). He continues:

"To add to the musical unity of the album, the opening 4-note figure is utilized in several of the numbers. There are further interrelationships, such as the use of the Siren Song at the conclusion of the Sailor and the Mermaid, the anticipation of the opening three notes of the Siren Song in the ending of Bach an' All, and the derivation of the three measure dum pattern on Bach an' All from the closing piano, clarinet, and bass of Unihorn." 

Each tune tells a story, each is filled with meaningful playing from the members of the quartet. I personally think this album features some of Brubeck's most inspired playing. Bill Smith was more of a musical alpha-dog than Paul Desmond, so the dynamic was different in the quartet. Where Desmond might be called the perfectly cool compliment to Brubeck's fire, Smith tends to actively lead, drive, and push the music, which creates exciting results. Dave's solo's on 'The Unihorn' and 'Baggin' the Dragon' stand out as some of his finest on record, and Joe Morello responds intensely at times to Smith's lead. 

Dave Brubeck's liner notes emphasize the pure acoustic aspect of the recording. "Nothing in the album was electronically "gimmicked" for special effect. What was performed in the studio was produced by extending the natural capacities of the instruments." 

He concludes with a quote from Smith...

"Jazz forms are usually stereotyped, like a housing project with houses all alike. We want to change the number of rooms and the size and placement of the windows and doors."
 

...and an assessment:

I think on this album Bill Smith opens some new swinging doors.  

I wish there were ten more albums like this, but must be satisfied that Near-Myth exists at all. I've always thought the cartoon cover art by Arnold Roth was a weakness, as there is nothing cartoonish or goofy about the music...but after all these years, I've made peace with the concept. Smith's own titles and descriptions are offhand, tongue-in-cheek, evasive at times. The album cover simply allows it to fly under the radar, perhaps so it won't be recognized as consciously great art. But great art it is, and deserving of much wider recognition and study in jazz history.

For me, Near-Myth/Brubeck-Smith one of a handful of the finest records ever made by a jazz clarinetist. There are few that even come close.

Near-Myth back cover
Eric Seddon collection

[ Footnote: Near-Myth/Brubeck-Smith was recorded only four days after Pete Fountain's brilliant Santa Monica concert. What a week in jazz clarinet history that was! ]

Pete Fountain * "On Tour" * Coral Records (CRL 757357) * 1961

Side 1

1. Hindustan
2. New Orleans
3. Mississippi Mud
4. San Antonio Rose
5. Manhattan
6. Isle Of Capri

Side 2

1. Swanee River Rag
2. Indiana
3. Sentimental Journey
4. I Lost My Sugar In Salt Lake City
5. Moonlight In Vermont
6. Chicago

Pete Fountain, clarinet 
Jack Sperling, drums
Morty Corb, bass
Stan Wrightsman, piano


Though it's not one of my favorites, this album falls chronologically into what I consider Pete Fountain's golden era of small combo recordings for Coral Records. Like Pete Fountain's New Orleans (1959) and Pete Fountain's French Quarter (released in the same year as this, 1961), 'On Tour' features Pete's Los Angeles based colleagues: Jack Sperling on drums, Morty Corb on bass, and Stan Wrightsman on piano. Contrasting the earlier albums' programs, which evoked Pete's hometown, each standard selected  for 'On Tour' is named for a different locale--perhaps as a reminder that if you couldn't make it to Bourbon Street, perhaps Pete might make it to you.

Listening to the opening track, we're reminded how young stereo technology was in 1961, as the recording engineer has a little fun towards the end of Pete's 'Hindustan' solo. He puts Pete's three note motif first on one channel, then on the next during Morty Corb's bass solo, switching Jack Sperling's drums a couple of times as well, apparently hinting at the 'touring' program of the album. Two years later, Coral recording engineers would use the antiphonal channels more effectively with Pete's I Love Paris album. It's use here in 'Hindustan' comes off as a little too cute--gratuitous rather than enjoyable. Fortunately, it was a one-time gimmick, and doesn't haunt the entire album.

In the liner notes, Bud Dant, Pete's longtime collaborator and Coral A&R man, hinted that they'd put more work into polishing this album than others, explaining that they used four sessions (in contrast to the single session for Pete Fountain's New Orleans). Apparently, because these were all head arrangements, they felt a need to refine them a bit. I'm not sure if that helped the reception of the album at the time--perhaps critics and public were looking for something very clear and clean--but unfortunately, to my ear at least, that extra time and expense resulted in an album that sounds more scripted and far less spontaneous. The grooves are just a little on the cautious side, sounding a bit measured and stiff on tunes like 'Chicago' and 'Isle of Capri.'

That aside, there is still plenty of great playing on this album. It's nice to hear Pete on some numbers he didn't ordinarily record. 'Manhattan' and 'Moonlight in Vermont' are presented with the patented Fountain sound and phrasing. 'San Antonio Rose' gives a hint of Pete's interest in Country and Western (his father's favorite genre), which he would revisit throughout his career. For fans of Pete's up tempo work, there is plenty of crisp, tight, driving soloing on 'Hindustan', 'Swanee River Rag', and 'Indiana'. So this is a very good, solid album from an important era of Pete's work. But perhaps, just as his heart was at home in New Orleans, so too, if only coincidentally, with the albums. 'On Tour' simply sounds a bit less inspired than the other, NOLA themed records. For those wanting to hear an example of Pete's playing in a looser, more free wheeling environment in 1961, I recommend Live in Santa Monica which features brilliant playing by the same group of Sperling, Corb, Wrightsman, (adding Godfrey Hirsch on vibes).  It would be interesting to know whether 'On Tour' and the Santa Monica concert were recorded during the same trip west for Pete. If so, they really demonstrate the difference between the group's studio and live work at the time. Either way, they are an interesting contrast, and both are worth having in your collection.     

Pete Fountain Mardi Gras Medallion
(Eric Seddon Collection)

CD Review: Pete Fountain Live in Santa Monica * March 16, 1961 * Hindsight Records HCD-617

March 16, 1961
Live at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium

Pete Fountain * clarinet
Godfrey Hirsh * vibes
Stan Wrightsman * piano
Morty Cobb * bass
Jack Sperling * drums

Tiger Rag
After You've Gone
Tin Roof Blues
Stomp Mr. Henry Lee
Up a Lazy River
Avalon
A Closer Walk With Thee
Hindustan

Around the time of his return to New Orleans, Pete Fountain recorded at least four live albums that should be in every jazz clarinetist's collection: Pete Fountain Day (October 26, 1959), Pete Fountain Live at the Bateau Lounge (1960), Live in Santa Monica (1961), and Pete's Place (1965). Of the four, three were released soon after they were recorded, as part of Pete's extremely fertile period with Coral Records, while as far as I can tell the date at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium finally came to the surface via Hindsight records in 1998.

This album is a true gem--it represents Pete's playing at that seminal time of his career, when he put out masterful album after masterful album for Coral, demonstrating an almost Mozartian perfection for lines and balance, fusing New Orleans style with swing and west coast cool in a way no one had before (and no one has managed quite as beautifully since). As Pete put it, quoted in Fred Hall's liner notes for this Hindsight album "My style is a cross between New Orleans and swing. My two clarinet players that I really liked when I was growing up were Irving Fazola and Benny Goodman and I used to listen to George Lewis, who was pure New Orleans."

This disc was a reunion of sorts with the men he gigged with during his Los Angeles years (although many of them also appeared on the New Orleans dates released by Coral). The sound is more brash than the Coral releases--it's much rougher quality and in some ways feels more like a 'real gig', which I appreciate, as it gives us another angle on the classic Fountain sound.

The solos represented here are all pretty much instant classics. 'Tiger Rag', which leads off this set, is closely related to his soloing on this tune from other dates, but drives purely and vigorously. 'After You've Gone' resists the temptation (too often yielded to these days) to turn the number into a technique-fest of flash. Pete and the boys favor a medium up tempo rather than blazing faster than Goodman, leaving room for soul, sound, and good home cooking.

One of several high points in the album is the 4 minute 46 second masterpiece that is 'Tin Roof Blues.' Jack Sperling's swung triplet blues pattern on drums and Stan Wrightsman's piano soul set the table for Pete's slow, unfolding blues--one of the finest captured on record, in my opinion. Like Bechet on 'Blue Horizon', Pete begins in the chalumeau and patiently climbs, singing sweetly, letting the band push, then pushing himself, the discussion between the musicians leading to an full, insistent, even piercing altissimo climax that perfectly utilizes the unique expressive power of the clarinet. This is one of those recordings that truly demonstrates the capacity of clarinet among other blues instruments.

The rest of the album is vintage Fountain, perfect for anyone who loves that golden era of Pete's playing. His soloing on 'Up a Lazy River'--both slowly in the altissimo, then uptempo) is among the finest, a tribute to the composer, Sidney Arodin (the CD somewhat mistakenly credits lyricists Hoagy Charmichael and Johnny Mercer with the tune, leaving out the New Orleans clarinetist who wrote the music!) 'Avalon' is also presented in a unique style--not blazing like the Goodman quartet, but plenty of homecooking and soul, with a stunningly melodic solo by Sperling as the centerpiece. There are many live versions of Pete playing 'A Closer Walk With Thee': add this one to the collection.

'Hindustan' is perhaps the most formally interesting of all the tunes, featuring a duo conversation between the virtuosic Sperling and Fountain--Sperling making use of his tuned tom-toms to dialogue with Pete. Particularly interesting is Fountain's subtlety of approach--he once again eschews flashy displays of technique, though his playing is at a level of virtuosity throughout. In other words, he is supremely virtuosic without flashing it. His concern was apparently always for the musical material rather than empty display--a precedent worthy of imitation, and needed these days. Jack and Pete begin the tune together with an extended dialogue, the band joins them, then they begin the long decrescendo as the caravan leaves town, so to speak, ending as they began: a poignant tête-à-tête between drum and clarinet.

This album, as much as any other, demonstrates the vitality and growth of trad jazz styles into the 1960s and beyond, at a paradoxical time in the music's history. While the cultural gatekeepers in major magazines and, increasingly, academia, ignored this music, it was simultaneously more successful with the general public than many of the more critically praised 'modern' jazz world. Perhaps now, twenty years after its first release in 1998, and over half a century since it was performed, we can recognize it for what it surely is: one of the great live jazz albums of any era.

From my collection, sent to me shortly before Pete passed away.
(Eric Seddon Collection)

Pete Fountain's French Quarter * Coral Records (CRL 757359) * 1961

Side A

Summertime
Dear Old Southland
Oh, Didn't He Ramble
Bye Bye Blackbird
Lazy Bones
Someday, Sweetheart

Side B

Is It True What They Say About Dixie?
Shrimp Boats
That Da Da Strain
Theme from the French Quarter
Dixie
Birth of the Blues

Pete Fountain * Clarinet
Godfrey Hirsch * Vibes
Stan Wrightsman * Piano
Morty Corb * Bass
Jack Sperling * Drums


Rumor has it that the clarinet was an important early jazz instrument which rose to dominance in the Swing Era and has been in decline ever since the late 1940s. Without putting too fine a point on it, the more one knows about jazz history, the more bogus this rumor becomes. In actuality, the clarinet's fortunes in jazz have remained far more healthy than most instruments, both in a serious artistic sense and in a broader sense of cultural impact.

Consider for a moment the accomplishment of clarinetists on the scene during the 1950s and 60s (the era that supposedly witnessed the loss of the clarinet's stature). Though they are hardly remembered now, four LPs of Artie Shaw's final Gramercy 5 recordings were released on Clef Records in the 1950s. That they went virtually unnoticed by critics, dropped out of print, and weren't recognized as masterpieces until the early 1990s is not Artie's fault. Like William Butler Yeats, Shaw proved himself to be that rarest of artists: the romantic who could translate his art seamlessly into a modernist romanticism, without losing his essence or pandering to mere stylistic trends.

Shaw's accomplishment was enough to prove the clarinet an exceptional vehicle for modern jazz expression, but if any doubt remained, Buddy DeFranco's virtuosic bop should have erased it. In addition to these, Bill Smith's and Tony Scott's work from the period seems to evade historical surveys, yet remains there for anyone to listen to.

A healthy culture depends upon more than innovators, however: it needs a firm foundation to stand on. During the '50s and '60s there were many other excellent jazz clarinetists keeping earlier playing styles alive: Benny Goodman, Barney Bigard, Jimmy Hamilton, and Edmond Hall were still performing regularly. In terms of traditional New Orleans jazz, Albert Nicolas, George Lewis, Willie Humphrey, and Raymond Burke were active. In retrospect, there are few instruments in the jazz of the era which could boast such a list of players.

To this milieu we should add another very important figure who emerged in the late 1950s: Pete Fountain. Not only did he demonstrate, on a nightly basis, a rare command of the clarinet, Pete was for decades one of the most visible and prominent symbols of jazz to the larger American public. More importantly than this, and of considerable frustration to the collector of great jazz clarinet recordings, he also might be the record holder for having the largest number of excellent jazz clarinet albums to have fallen out of print. One of them, released in 1961 by Coral Records, is the subject of this review.

Pete Fountain's French Quarter was made shortly after Pete moved from the Bateau Lounge to his own club: "Pete Fountain's French Quarter Inn" on Bourbon Street. The instrumentation for the album takes it's cue from the classic Goodman quartet of the 30s and the last Gramercy 5: the sidemen are Godfrey Hirsch on vibes, Stan Wrightsman on piano, Morty Corb on bass, and Jack Sperling on drums.

From the outset, this album grips and never lets go. Gershwin's "Summertime" is the lead number: a war horse among standards, but rarely done well enough to be considered a permanent part of the song's legacy, as it is here. Even considering Sidney Bechet's version on soprano sax and the Artie Shaw Orchestra's reading of Eddie Sauter's arrangement, Pete's remains my favorite jazz rendition of the tune. That it was recorded in 1961 adds to the historical significance, setting up a useful comparison with John Coltrane's version, released the same year on  his classic My Favorite Things album. Trane's art was reaching it's zenith around this time, and the string of albums before and after 1961 are deservedly famous. But of the two versions of "Summertime", Pete's is arguably more profound.

The poetic heart of "Summertime" is paradoxical: it's a lullaby sung to a baby, filled with reassurance and love, but surrounded in it's original operatic context by poverty and violence. Redemptive suffering is inherent to the tune, and any good interpretation of it has to touch, on some level, this spiritual aspect--it comforts and unsettles, simultaneously.

Trane uses the song as a howling modal cry--an obvious, confrontationally ironic reading akin to dramatically yelling at a baby--a lullaby sung by an angry madman. This reading isn't to be flippantly rejected, as it does say something disturbingly important. There is a sad truth to Trane's symbolism in our cultural history: monumental decisions were made in that era to legally devalue babies and their human right to live. Yet even with this firmly considered, there is always a musical price to pay for such confrontational, repurposed interpretation, and Trane's execution of the tune sounds more of an extra-musical "statement" than an investigation of inherent musical depth.

The original operatic version of "Summertime" features many emotional subtleties difficult to explain, or to translate into other orchestrations. For example, how can the effect of the "cold" violin counterpoint to the vocal line be reproduced except by playing it as Gershwin scored it? This is where Pete Fountain's version meets the challenge. Pete opens the album with Jack Sperling's bitter drum hits, which are like firm punches to the gut--ringing harbingers of danger. Sperling uses sticks (rare on jazz clarinet albums before this) and the simmering tension threatens to boil over at any moment. When Pete comes in, his tone is cool: he states the melody plainly, almost without adornment, drawing and maintaining a struggle between his mood and Sperling's dire portents. It's a real lullaby, and has real hope, but takes note of the danger. Pete's solo, seemingly simple, almost sounds like a parental attempt to ward off that danger. This is the very paradox the original tune sets up lyrically, and the tension of swing itself as hinted at when Artie Shaw suggested "maybe what we're talking about is life verses death."

The star of the first tune is undoubtedly Sperling--his rhythmic variations continue relentlessly as Fountain holds the lyrical line. Simple in conceptual brilliance, executed to perfection, this lead number grips the listener and delivers the promised result. What follows is assuredly less intense, and more conducive to a great nightclub act, but the basic mood, emphasizing the serious jazz nature of the disc, has been set. Tune after tune of balanced, relaxed fusing of cool west coast jazz with an earlier New Orleans style inherited from Irving Fazola rounds out the album. Classic interpretations are offered of "Dear Old Southland," "Oh, Didn't He Ramble," "Shrimp Boats" and others.

I find it both difficult and frustrating to think this masterpiece of jazz clarinet has been out of print for decades. There are still some LPs available for purchase on the web, and I recommend those interested in jazz clarinet get their hands on a copy. Many of Pete Fountain's serious jazz albums have suffered the fate of Pete Fountain's French Quarter. Hopefully this situation is temporary, and they will all be made available for download soon. This album gets an obvious Five Good Reeds.

Autograph from a copy of Pete Fountain's Autobiography
(Eric Seddon Collection)