Jazz Clarinet Timeline to 1961

Jazz Clarinet history, like all others, has certain benchmarks and watershed moments that are of great importance to both the development of the instrument and the overall trajectory of jazz. That this timeline isn't as well known as, say, the jazz trumpet timeline is not because ours is so insignificant--it's mainly because trumpet players have done a better job of educating their audience. The average jazz aficionado knows "Buddy Bolden--King Oliver--Louis Armstrong--Cootie Williams--Roy Eldridge--Dizzy Gillespie--Clifford Brown--Miles Davis--Wynton Marsalis" and can recite similar genealogies with the precision of a Biblical scholar. The clarinet list can be a bit more complicated, but is no less impressive in its own way.

Being familiar with the timeline helps us put artists into context, and understand the importance of the instrument's place in our culture. For the performer, this can give a glimpse into the type of musical symbolism that the horn holds to the greater public.

Some of the important dates on the Jazz Clarinet Timeline are well known. Mention 1938, and most informed jazz fans could tell you about Benny Goodman's Carnegie Hall Concert. Others are less well known.

Here is a basic history of jazz clarinet, with an emphasis on recorded efforts:

Pre-1922--Picou and Tio

New Orleans is the birthplace of jazz, and therefore the birthplace of jazz clarinet. The talking style of playing, the richness of the chalumeau, and the emphasis on full, round sound that can also cut when necessary are all legacies of New Orleans. Players and teachers such as Alphonse Picou and Lorenzo Tio shaped the tradition which was to follow, with Tio in particular teaching many of the NOLA masters of the first generation of recorded jazz clarinetists.

Sidney Bechet

Though he first recorded in 1923, a year affer Leon Roppolo, Bechet was a major musical figure in the United States and Europe prior to that session. It's impossible to exaggerate his importance, not only to clarinet history, but to saxophone and jazz history overall. Bechet has been called the first jazz musician to have a fully developed solo style, and Duke Ellington referred to him as the foundation and symbol of jazz. Of particular interest to the clarinetist are recordings such as 'Blue Horizon', and his duo recordings with another great New Orleans clarinetist, Albert Nicholas (on 'Old Stack O'Lee Blues', Bechet takes the second solo). But honestly, his complete recordings are a must for any serious clarinets. We can't can afford to ignore the depth, soul, and humanity of Sidney Bechet's playing, regardless of the era in which we hear him. In addition to his music making, his autobiography, Treat it Gentle, remains arguably the greatest book written on jazz.


1922--Leon Roppolo

Outside of specialists in early jazz, Leon Roppolo is little mentioned these days. As clarinetist for the New Orleans Rhythm Kings his playing was remarkable and foundational for his influence on Benny Goodman. His altissimo flexibility and overall control is generally overlooked today, but speaks to a much longer history of jazz clarinet excellence, even on a technical level, than is generally recognized. His playing had an impact on several players, including Irving Fazola, Benny Goodman, and Pete Fountain.



1925-27--Johnny Dodds records with Louis Armstrong's Hot Fives.

With the recordings of Johnny Dodds, we have access to an important figure in New Orleans jazz. The Hot Fives recordings made with Louis Armstrong are among the most influential in history, not simply because Armstrong was so important, but the ensemble was as well. Dodds's violin-esque flexibility and core sound are apparent on tunes like 'Lonesome Blues'.

And while the Hot Fives recordings remain his most famous recordings, his work with King Oliver was exceptional as well, not to mention sessions he lead himself. 

1926-27--Omer Simeon's Hot Peppers Sessions

Omer Simeon was, in the words of Barney Bigard, an "unsung hero." The sessions Simeon recorded with Jelly Roll Morton displayed a clarinetist with unique polish and subtlety of phrasing ability. (For a good example, check out 'Black Bottom Stomp'). From the outset, the notion of rough, out of tune, unprofessional playing as being somehow the legacy of early jazz is thrown out the window. Simeon's playing proves that soul and technique are not opposed--and like Roppolo, he helped provide a jazz basis for the polished elements, without resorting to a European classical approach.


1928-1930--Jimmie Noone leads a band at the Apex Club in Chicago

Like Simeon and Roppolo, Jimmie Noone's playing is a testament to the unity of technique and soul. Sweet, fluent, and strong at the same time, Noone brought a new level of virtuosity to the jazz clarinet. His chalumeau technique, known for rapid triplet figurations, is rightly singled out, yet perhaps overemphasized, as his flexibility between the altissimo, clarion, and chalumeau was equally impressive. His relentless pursuit of technical mastery lead him to take lessons from Franz Schoepp, teacher of Buster Bailey and the young Benny Goodman, even as he worked as a professional.

Noone's achievement has been too often overlooked. This is partly because he has had few imitators. His playing was at such a high level that few amateurs can approach it, and all too often the New Orleans/Chicago style has been maintained by dedicated amateurs who, admirable as their intent might be, tend to preserve best what they can themselves imitate. On top of this, Noone tends to be overshadowed by the person who learned from him most: Benny Goodman, who not only also studied with Schoepp, but was influenced by Noone's playing in his native Chicago.
   

1935--Benny Goodman on the "Let's Dance" Program

When a young Benny Goodman was chosen to lead one of the three bands featured on the nationally broadcast "Let's Dance" program, it was a major moment in the history of jazz. In the battle between "commercial" sweet bands and driving "hot" bands, Benny's was the vanguard of uncompromising swing. With a trumpet section that often included driving players like Bunny Berigan, Nick Kazebier, and Pee Wee Erwin, a sax section lead by Hymie Schertzer, Gene Krupa driving from the drummer's chair, and Benny himself playing more virtuosic horn than anyone had ever heard in a jazz band, the Goodman sound was crystallized as a hard hitting, driving force.


1935-36--Goodman's Broadcasts from the Congress Hotel in Chicago

These broadcasts, and this band, were singled out decades later as Goodman's favorite. He encouraged jazz fans to give them another listen, and hear how the band played for the love of the music rather than for mere commercial gain or star status. Fortunately, many excellent recordings still exist from air checks and studio recordings of that time. Historically speaking, it was this band that drove a young Artie Shaw to abandon his "first retirement" when he heard his old rival over the radio one night, as he was driving through the Pennsylvania hills to a farmhouse he was soon to sell.

Spring, 1936-- Artie Shaw's 'Interlude in B-flat'

At the Imperial Theatre in New York, Shaw made his first of many returns to the music business with a composition of his own, entitled Interlude in B-flat for clarinet, strings and piano-less rhythm section. Complimented by George Gershwin after the performance, the piece propelled Shaw into the national discussion and still serves as an anthology of early jazz clarinet techniques, a display of liquid virtuosity, and a precursor to what was later called "Third Stream" (though Shaw himself rejected both the term and most of the music later produced under that label).


August 1936--The Goodman Quartet formed

Arguably the most important small group in the history of clarinet jazz, and among a handful of the most important small groups in the history of music. Goodman's Quartet with Teddy Wilson, Lionel Hampton, and Gene Krupa expanded jazz technically, soulfully, and socially.


1937-39-- The Camel Caravan ("Camel Hot Club") Radio Program

Benny's influence over the airwaves continued through the late 1930s. Using his popularity as a bully pulpit for jazz, Goodman put together an entertaining weekly show featuring his band, his quartet, and the songwriting abilities of Johnny Mercer. Central to the theme of the show was the shtick of Benny as a light hearted professor of jazz--but the history lessons, thin though they might seem by today's standards, were real attempts at raising awareness. A young Pete Fountain listened every week to this broadcast.

January 16, 1938--Goodman leads the First All-Jazz Concert at Carnegie Hall

The shot heard round the jazz world. With this, jazz entered the discussion of serious art music--a discussion that has not always benefited jazz musically, but in many ways has helped preserve the art when popular trends pulled a gullible public away. Once again, Benny's penchant for educating his audience was on display, as he presented not only his own band, but a retrospective which included nods to Louis Armstrong, Bix Beiderbecke, Count Basie (who also performed that night with Goodman), and members of the Ellington band. The Goodman band was not perfect on this night, but several performances, chief among them "Sing Sing Sing" were so profound as to demonstrate the range and depth of American jazz. Goodman, Harry James, and Jess Stacy's solos from that number in particular rival anything written by the highly respected classical composers whose music graced the venue.

Christmas, 1938-Artie Shaw performs 'The Blues' at Carnegie Hall

1938 was a high water mark for the rivalry between Goodman and Shaw. Artie took over the charts that year when his arrangement of a little known Cole Porter tune, 'Begin the Beguine' rocketed him to number one in the nation. From that point on, battle lines were drawn in the press and the public imagination. The year that held so many great musical moments for jazz clarinet, beginning with Goodman's triumph at Carnegie Hall, ended with Shaw's own masterful performance in the same venue.

1940-The first Gramercy 5 is formed

In the Fall of 1940, Artie Shaw called together members of his band to form a "chamber jazz" group that would feature his clarinet, plus muted trumpet, guitar, bass, drums, and, of all instruments, harpsichord--one of the most unique combinations of the era. Like Goodman's Quartet, it diverged from the New Orleans line-up popular since the days of King Oliver. Among the first singles recorded, the blues tune "Summit Ridge Drive" (named for Shaw's home address where the group had rehearsed) became a million seller.

The various Gramercy 5s that Shaw was to assemble over the next fourteen years were to feature some of his finest music--and come closest to his own unyielding artistic goals.


1944--Rompin' with Edmond Hall

By 1944, New Orleans clarinetist Edmond Hall (best know for his work with Louis Armstrong) had absorbed the influence of Goodman and Shaw, fusing it with his own inimitable warmth, to produce some of the greatest (and most neglected) swing era jazz clarinet. The recording sessions for "Rompin' in '44" provide a unique glimpse into this rare genius. There are few jazz musicians who have ever transcended their era--growing into different styles beyond their first popularity. Goodman never convincingly grew into a bebop player, nor did Louis Armstrong, for instance. Of the great jazz clarinetists, the two who stand out most in this regard are Shaw (who was able to expand his musical language indefinitely) and Hall, whose unique brand of NOLA swing remains a benchmark for soulful performance. His 1944 sessions produced many masterpieces, among them cuts of "Caravan" and "Besame Mucho" which have never been surpassed.

1947-48--The unlikely career and tragic death of Stan Hasselgård

In 1947, a young Swede named Åke "Stan" Hasselgård relocated to New York, in order to fully pursue his passion for jazz. Possessing a full sound reminiscent of the swing masters, he began immediately absorbing the more cutting-edge bebop language of the day, making him one of the few boppers who maintained a jazz-based clarinet sound, rather than approaching the horn from a classical angle. He was given the rare honor of being invited to join the Benny Goodman Sextet, and we are fortunate to have live recordings of that unique ensemble. On November 23, 1948 he was tragically killed in a car accident outside of Decatur, Illinois, but before this happened he had already pointed a way for modern jazz clarinet.

April 23, 1949--Buddy DeFranco records as a leader. 

One of the longest and most critically decorated tenures for a jazz clarinetist began in 1949, when a 26 year old Buddy DeFranco recorded a set of modern jazz tunes with an orchestra including such luminaries as Lee Konitz, Irv Kluger, and Serge Chaloff. The intelligent, virtuosic approach of DeFranco proved conclusively what the foreshortened career of Stan Hasselgård only hinted at: that the clarinet was a worthy vehicle for modern jazz of all varieties.

Despite the overwhelming evidence he commited to record, his vaste acheivement has yet to be properly assessed. Anyone who thinks the clarinet disappeared after the swing era must simply be ignorant of Buddy's work.      

1953--Buddy DeFranco: Mr. Clarinet

After "The King of Swing" and "King of the Clarinet" the name "Mr. Clarinet" sounds both bold and humble, simultaneously. The boldness is justified, as this, perhaps more than any recordings before it, threw down the bebop gauntlet. The quartet album is crammed with classic takes--including such essential tracks as "Buddy's Blues", "Ferdinando", and "It Could Happen to You", with Buddy joined by Art Blakey, Milt Hinton, and Kenny Drew.

1953 - Tony Scott: The Brunswick Sessions

One of the most unique and wide ranging jazz clarinetists in history, Tony Scott, made his debut recordings as a Quartet leader with his Brunswick sessions. Released under various titles, these sessions gave a new shape to modern jazz clarinet - lyrical, probing, insistent and often extreme in register and volume, Scott might be compared to Miles Davis if Buddy DeFranco was Dizzy Gillespie. Like DeFranco, his existence and long catalog of masterful albums contradicts the narrative that clarinet was no longer represented in jazz after the Swing Era.   


1954--The Final Gramercy 5 sessions

Among the very finest jazz clarinet recordings ever made, these last recordings of the enigmatic Artie Shaw were recorded after weeks of meticulous, paid rehearsal--highly unusual for that era. It seems Shaw deliberately recorded his "whole book" before saying goodbye to the world of creative music making. The four CDs worth of material left to us from those sessions serve as both a retrospective and precursor to much of what followed in modern jazz. 

When these were released in the 1990s, Shaw gave his opinion on the history of jazz since the final Gramercy 5, an opinion that perhaps sheds considerable light on jazz clarinet, and why it might have struggled since then:

"Isn't it interesting--here we are, almost 40 years later, and the records still hold up. [...] Not a lot has happened in jazz since 1954, except that it got more esoteric and hate-filled. I don't know what's going on in the music now. Music is not a political instrument; if you want to do that, you write the 'Horst Wessel Song' or the 'Star Spangled Banner', neither of which has very much to do with music. Look at the Russians with their painting--when it becomes 'socialist realism', come on, you're dealing with caricature." 

For those who can read between the lines, this is a highly compact and bracing indictment of much of the more ideologically driven jazz since 1954. For the jazz clarinetist, it's worth thinking through in particular, as esoteric and angry "hate-filled" music seem even less congruent with a deep understanding of our instrument than others.



1959--Pete Fountain's Tetralogy

In 1959, Pete Fountain came to his famous realization that "Champagne and Bourbon don't mix", decided that Hollywood just wasn't for him, and packed his family for the return trip to New Orleans. But before he left, he cut two very important albums. The first, Pete Fountain's New Orleans, seamlessly blended Pete's New Orleans style clarinet with a cool, West Coast rhythm section. It went on to become one of Fountain's best selling records, and is still available for download over sixty years later. The second, equally impressive despite having sadly slipped into obscurity, is Pete's first collaboration with the large ensemble scoring of Charles 'Bud' Dant, entitled The Blues.

After arriving in New Orleans, Pete quickly recorded two others--Live at the Bateau Lounge and Pete Fountain Day. Both of these are out of print, which is a major problem for clarinetists hoping to get a full picture of Fountain's brilliance as a jazz musician. These four remarkable albums recorded in five months are referred to here as Pete Fountain's Tetralogy.

 

Without question, Pete Fountain was the most successful jazz clarinetist with the general public since the days of Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw. That he didn't play bebop, and that his commercial success has sometimes been fueled by Nashville arrangements and easy listening albums, has often lead to his neglect by establishment critics. Yet few of his detractors have noticed two very important things: first, that the two biggest criticisms of Pete Fountain's style (that he is either too traditional or not traditional enough) are contradictory, and second, that his fusion of traditional New Orleans jazz with West Coast cool jazz and Nashville were as brilliant as Edmond Hall's fusion of NOLA and 'hot' swing.

 

The Tetralogy in particular forms a body of impressive work that ought to be required listening for all jazz clarinetists. 

 

Pete Fountain's massive recorded output over the next several decades accomplished more than stylistic fusion: he kept alive the tradition of jazz clarinet sound, steeped in both New Orleans tradition (from Irving Fazola's influence) and swing (from Benny Goodman). That the public has preferred this beautiful style of playing is worth noting and carrying forward.  

 

 

1959-61--Bill Smith's Trilogy with Dave Brubeck

In one of the rare blessed moments for a jazz clarinetist since 1954, Bill Smith managed to get three albums of his own compositions recorded with a top modern jazz ensemble: the Dave Brubeck Quartet. The resulting records (The Riddle, Brubeck a la Mode, and Near-Myth) presented some of the most interesting and satisfying jazz clarinet of any era.

 

***

[This is a revision of the original timeline published back in 2013]

[Part 2 of this Timeline will consider the developments in the world of Jazz Clarinet since 1961] 

JazzTimes Critics List Clarinetists in their Underrated Class

In a JazzTimes article originating in 1997, but updated only a few weeks ago, thirteen critics were invited to sound off on which among the jazz greats were overrated and which were more underappreciated. Of note were the absence of clarinetists in the overrated category, but several clarinet greats mentioned as deserving wider acclaim.  

Writing of the great Pete Fountain, who was still active as of the original 1997 publication, Doug Ramsey said: 

"He underrates himself. His ear for harmony and mastery of time are among the best-kept secrets in jazz because all these years he has chosen to stick with the repertoire and sidemen that make him comfortable. I’d like to kidnap Fountain and lock him in a recording studio with Kenny Barron, Ron Carter and Victor Lewis. He would surprise himself."

 Then came Neil Tesser, writing of Buddy DeFranco:

"Probably because he came along just as the clarinet was fading as a jazz staple, DeFranco gets overlooked when the discussion turns to either (a) his instrument or (b) his metier, bebop—an idiom not known for producing great clarinet players. But he just might be the finest improvising clarinetist in jazz history, blessed with great harmonic knowledge, technical wizardry, and a meaty and expressive tone."

 Jack Sohmer added praise of Albert Nicholas...

"A paragon of the Creole style of clarinet playing, Nicholas worked and recorded with King Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton and Luis Russell from the mid-1920s through the ’30s. His crystalline tone, impeccable technique, and command of the blues finally came to widespread attention during the New Orleans revival movement of the mid-’40s. Had he not spent his last 20 years in Europe, where he was almost as famous as Sidney Bechet, he would undoubtedly have been better known in America."

...and Pee Wee Russell:

"A genius to those who value originality, Russell had always been a controversial clarinetist. He was uniformly respected by Louis, Bix, Teagarden, Freeman and the Condon gang, but he was also derided by others who failed to understand his obstinate nonconformity. His highly personal sound, replete with growling rasps and wistful mutterings, coupled with his advanced harmonic sense and angular phrasing, combined to form a style unique in jazz history." 

It's great to see these great clarinetists get some attention. Let's hope the reevaluation of jazz history continues in this century, giving more weight to the practitioners of this great jazz instrument!

 

100 Jazz Tunes Everyone Should Hear (#27) Pete Fountain - Hindustan (Live)

#27 - Pete Fountain Live in Santa Monica (1961) - 'Hindustan' - Jack Sperling on drums

An epic performance of 'Hindustan', nearly 12 minutes long, and most of it a duo between Jack Sperling's brilliant drums and Pete Fountain's clarinet. Towards the middle, the whole band joins in for awhile, but then it's back to Pete and Jack. Pete's melodic invention seems endless, as does Jack's rhythmic and tibral brilliance. Only in the very last chorus does Pete really give us anything like the full melody line to the tune. Sheer brilliance.

[ This is not a comprehensive list, nor is it representative of the "most important" or "best." Instead, following Duke Ellington's adage that the greatest music and musicians are "beyond category", I'm starting 2020 by sharing 100 jazz tunes I feel everyone should have the chance to hear--really just tunes and performances that I love. ]

100 Jazz Tunes Everyone Should Hear (#3) Pete Fountain Live in Santa Monica 1961

#3 - Pete Fountain 'Tin Roof Blues' Live in Santa Monica 1961

As I wrote in an album review a couple of years back, this performance of 'Tin Roof Blues' is something special:

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.

[ This is not a comprehensive list, nor is it representative of the "most important" or "best." Instead, following Duke Ellington's adage that the greatest music and musicians are "beyond category", I'm starting 2020 by sharing 100 jazz tunes I feel everyone should have the chance to hear--really just tunes and performances that I love. ]

National Bobblehead Day

Apparently January 7th is designated "National Bobblehead Day" by whatever authority is capable of proclaiming it. All over social media, those of us who have bobbleheads are supposed to share our favorites. Well I don't own many, but of the ones I have, this is clearly the favorite!

Pete Fountain Bobblehead
Eric Seddon Collection

Pete Fountain And Friends * Capitol Records (SN-16224) * 1981

Side One

1. When You're Smiling (The Whole World Smiles With You)
2. Love Walked In
3. Just Friends
4. Shine
5. Maria Elena

Side Two

1. Honeysuckle Rose
2. Scatter-Brain
3. Rain
4. The One I Love Belongs To
5. Somebody Else
6. Oh, Lady Be Good!


Pete Fountain - Clarinet
Frank Flynn - Amplified Marimba
Jack Sperling - Drums
Bob Bain - Guitar
Ray Leatherwood - Bass

This 1981 session is one of my favorites recorded by Pete Fountain after his golden era with Coral Records in the early 1960s. Here he's reunited with old friends in Hollywood, among them the great Jack Sperling, twenty years after he and Pete had made jazz history with classic albums like Pete Fountain Day, At the Bateau Lounge, Pete Fountain's New Orleans, and so many others. 

Instead of a traditional rhythm section with piano, or even vibes, Pete employs Frank Flynn for this date on Amplified Marimba. If there are any other albums of Pete's with marimba featured so prominently, I haven't heard them, so as far as I know, this is unique, giving us a chance to hear a more intimate type of ensemble work. Partially because of this, the lines among the musicians are very clearly delineated, and that's a treat. More than any of his other albums, this one comes closest to giving us Pete Fountain take on 'chamber jazz.'

Having said that, while this is a real jazz combo album, as opposed to Pete's forays into easy listening concept albums or big band work, those expecting the old intensity between Fountain and Sperling might be disappointed. Jack is tasteful and swinging on this session, but the old fire -- the pushing and prodding  back and forth with Pete that added so much to the early Coral discs-- just isn't here. Instead, the drums become subdued accompaniment.

Highlights of this album include Pete's takes on 'Just Friends' and a ballad he was to record in many settings, 'Maria Elena.' For me, this recording of the latter is his finest--gentle, sweet, intimate, with perfect personnel. 

The sound quality on this album is also excellent, giving us a different perspective on the classic 'Pete Fountain sound.' Unlike the early Coral discs, the whole ambiance is much more 'dry', with less reverb. Pete's playing is captured slightly brighter than usual, with more edge. For aficionados of sound, this will give different angles on a master's playing.

I'm one who unabashedly prefers Pete's small ensemble work--with all it's polyphonic implications, creativity, and extended solos--to his larger ensemble or orchestral albums (though many of those are favorites too, for different reasons). So for me this unique ensemble release is a part of the essential collection.  

Pete Fountain Mardi Gras Doubloon (Eric Seddon Collection)

      

Pete Fountain * New Orleans at Midnight * Coral Records (CRL 757429 Stereo / CRL 57429 Mono) * 1963

Side One

1. Creole Love Call (*)
2. I Want To Be Happy
3. Brahms' Lullaby (+)
4. Ballin' The Jack
5. Moonglow (++)
6. Rockin' Chair (*)

Side Two

1. Midnight Pete (+)
2. Bourbon Street Parade
3. Swing Low
4. Makin' Whoopee
5. Battle Hymn Of The Republic
6. Midnight Boogie (++)

Pete Fountain, clarinet
Bobby Gibbons, guitar 
Godfrey Hirsch, vibes
Stan Wrightsman, piano 
Morty Corb, bass
Jack Sperling, drums 
(*) Nick Fatool, drums
(+) John Propst, piano
(++)Ray Sherman, piano 



1963 was a remarkable year for Pete Fountain, and for jazz clarinet in general. Pete's contributions include no fewer than four albums: Plenty of Pete, Music from Dixie, Mr. New Orleans, and the subject of this review, New Orleans at Midnight. The year also featured a ground breaking opus of the Buddy DeFranco/Tommy Gumina Quartet entitled pol*y*tones (a very important album desperately in need of reissue), and the classic Benny Goodman Quartet reunited for their last studio recording, Together Again.  

Compared with the other albums from this year, New Orleans at Midnight is a real 'sound'-focused album: Pete's crooning side is on full display. The arrangements are tight and well thought out, and like its name, this album gives the vibe of an 'after hours' set, less focused on hot soloing. One exception, and a high point of the album that has been reissued on various "Best of" compilations, is Pete's rendition of 'Bourbon Street Parade', which is among his finest recordings and my personal favorite by a clarinetist of this classic Paul Barbarin tune. 

It's also with gratitude that I find the 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' on this album, played with depth and reverence. This makes a nice contrast with Pete's spirited version of 'Dixie' from his earlier French Quarter album, perhaps handling respectfully and symbolically some of the difficulties of American history that were still turbulent in the 1960s, and resonate even today.

When dealing with New Orleans jazz, or jazz in general, there is no way of avoiding America's trouble history with race and racism. I might as well say here that I'm always a bit on edge when I hear a jazz band play 'Dixie.' I know that for white southerners of Pete's generation it might have meant something different, but there are too many disturbing stories such as those related in Tom Sancton's book Song for My Fathers  (a must read for anyone interested in the history of New Orleans jazz, particularly in the 1960s) detailing humiliating circumstances of black bands being forced to play the tune under racist circumstances. Like so many of our symbols, which get necessarily reevaluated as time progresses, this tune has its baggage that cannot be ignored. Let me try to be clear on a subject that is anything but easy: I think 'Dixie' is a great tune, musically. But symbolically it is problematic for me in the context of the 1960s, especially. This would be a very troubled thing for me if we didn't have Pete's clear pronouncement on race and jazz, along with his own homage and gratitude to George Lewis and other great black musicians, in his autobiography:

I used to go down to St. Bernard Street and sit in with a lot of the black bands. I must have been one of the only white musicians doing that because the union frowned on it. But I wasn't a member of the union, and I felt too that if they were nice enough to let me sit in, I was going to give them the best I had. I've never been at all concerned about the way a musician looks. I listen to what comes out of his horn, and judge only that. And jazz and blues are black music first; some of the sounds I was hearing were mighty good. 

I sat in with George Lewis and Papa Celestin and some of the greatest black bands in jazz. George Lewis particularly fascinated me. He played a fine clarinet, and I would always watch him closely; then I would get up and add my own piece to what he was playing. We had a great time, and I learned a great deal from these sessions. [from A Closer Walk: The Pete Fountain Story. The Henry Regnery Company, Chicago (1972) pg 38-39] 

This sort of acknowledgement, and the sort of risk taking Pete Fountain, George Lewis, and others engaged in for the sake of sharing and making music, is very powerful. One can make an argument (and I often do!) that in mid-century, the two most important New Orleans jazz musicians were Lewis and Fountain. Lewis lead the charge of the New Orleans revival from the late 1940s through the 60s, and was responsible for much of the global Trad Jazz explosion during those years, while Pete took the music to new levels of virtuosity, fusing it with other forms in the process. This quiet, after hours version of the 'Battle Hymn', so unusual for a white southerner to play in that era, seems to me an beautiful and eloquent statement.

All the other tunes on this remarkably mixed bag of an album are well performed and satisfying. It might not be the greatest of Pete's golden era Coral records, but it is a worthy entry, with a touch of important symbolism.

Pete Fountain Mardi Gras Beads (Eric Seddon Collection)

Pete Fountain * Standing Room Only * Coral Records (CRL 757474) * 1965

Side One

1. Muskrat Ramble
2. Memories Of You
3. Christopher Columbus
4. I Gotta Right To Sing The Blues
5. Struttin' With Some Barbecue

Side Two

1. Ramblin' Medley: a) Oh, Didn't He Ramble b) St. Louis Blues c) Comin' Round The Mountain d) Tiger Rag
2. Embraceable You 
3. When My Sugar Walks Down The Street
4. You Are My Sunshine

Pete Fountain, clarinet
Nick Fatool, drums 
Bob Havens, trombone
Eddie Miller, tenor sax 
Charley Teagarden, trumpet
Godfrey Hirsch, vibes
Earl Vuiovich, piano
Oliver Felix, bass

Recorded 'Live' at Pete Fountain's French Quarter Inn, New Orleans

With this octet, Pete Fountain broke the mold of his Coral small combo records by including Eddie Miller on tenor sax, Charley Teagarden on trumpet, and Bob Haven on trombone. Instead of emphasizing the intimate nightclub feel his earlier efforts had captured so successfully, Pete opens up as a leader on this one, giving leads to all of his wind players and driving the polyphony in a unique, clarinet-focused way. This is also the first Pete Fountain album to feature Nick Fatool on drums for the entire album. The result is a more street-beat oriented and at times more raucous live experience--very different from Pete's Place and At The Bateau Lounge. The arrangements are also a little more scripted, and not really reminiscent of his earlier work with Al Hirt or others from the 1950s, so listeners hoping for more of that should mitigate their expectations. 

Some notes:

'Muskrat Ramble' leads off with a bass/drums duo into, not usual for the tune, which is interesting. 

Eddie Miller takes a tenor sax lead on 'Memories of You.' His playing is solid, but not inspired. This is a tough tune for any clarinetist taking at the ballad tempo of  Benny Goodman, as it was so deeply associated with him, not only through the great sextet recordings,  but the fact that it was ingrained in pop culture as a leitmotif in The Benny Goodman Story. When Pete takes his chorus, he makes the homage clear.

Bob Havens' trombone takes the lead on both 'Christopher Columbus' (rarely performed outside of its more famous spot in Jimmy Mundy's 'Sing Sing Sing' arrangement for the Goodman band) and 'I've Got a Right to Sing the Blues.' Adding the diversity of voices, on side two, Charley Teagarden, trumpet player and brother of the more famous Jack Teagarden,  leads on 'Embraceable You.' Unfortunately, the playing, while nice and solid, is unexceptional and a seems a bit scripted. 

The climax of the album comes with Side Two's 'Ramblin' Medley'. I'm not a big fan of medleys, though they were quite popular at the time (Duke Ellington employed them regularly in his set lists during the 1960s as well). On this album, for once the medley is on side 2, and seems really well placed in the overall form of the album. Nick Fatool's street beat drumming is intense and pushes the whole thing beautifully.

I don't want to give the wrong impression: Pete's playing is excellent on this album, as it is for all of the live Coral albums of the late '50s through the '60s. Any fan of his virtuosic clarinet style will enjoy it, and the album has very interesting things about it, along with satisfying emotional climaxes. But for me, personally, the true golden era of those Coral nightclub albums comes to a close with Pete's Place. There is something special about the string of small combo, clarinet dominated albums from 1959-1965, and with Standing Room Only, I think we sense Pete's recording career in transition to other, larger ensemble projects.

Pete Fountain * Pete's Place * Coral Records (LVA 9228) * 1965

Oh, Lady Be Good (*)
Fascination Medley: 
       Fascination/Basin St Blues/Tin Roof Blues/Way Down Yonder in New Orleans
It's Just a Little While (To Stay Here)
That's A Plenty (*)

The Sheik of Araby (*)
The Preacher
(What Did I Do to Be So) Black & Blue
March to Peruna (*)

Pete Fountain * clarinet
Godfrey Hirsch * vibes
Earl Vuiovich * piano
Paul Guna * guitar/banjo
Oliver Felix * bass
(*)Nick Fatool * drums
Paul Edwards * drums

Recorded on the Saturday before Mardi Gras in February of 1964 at Pete Fountain's French Quarter Inn on the corner of Bourbon and St Anne Streets in New Orleans, and released in 1965, Pete's Place is both a continuation and the beginning of a new era in the clarinetist's development. In terms of continuity,  this album flows perfectly in the stream of 'golden era' Pete Fountain live recordings, following Pete Fountain Day (1959), At the Bateau Lounge (1960), and Live in Santa Monica (1961). The newness is subtle, but to Fountain aficionados noticeable: Pete's tempi aren't quite as burning, he's both more patient and inventive as a soloist on tunes like The Sheik of Araby, and most significantly, this is perhaps the first small combo album of the Coral era that substantially features Nick Fatool on drums rather than Jack Sperling. Sperling's flash and fire had been a major component of every previous small group album for Coral, and the body of work that Fountain and the virtuosic drummer built, stretching over eight or nine albums (depending on how you count them) rightfully takes its place in jazz history alongside other inspired duos such as Goodman & Krupa, or Brown & Roach. Pete & Jack's sympathetic musicality bordering on a type of telepathy was of that rare kind, surpassing normal ensemble brilliance. This album, without Sperling's presence, is immediately different in timbre and groove.

Having given credit where it is due, few drummers could have stepped in with the degree of success of Nick Fatool. Nick was a true jazz veteran by this point in his career, having recorded with Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw as early as the 1940s, making him possibly the only drummer to record with that triumvirate on classic small combo albums. Too often overlooked by jazz history, it's worth pointing out that Fatool provided the perfect pocket grooves for Artie Shaw's original Gramercy 5 recordings and the deep backbeats and streetbeats for Pete's Place. While not as flashy as some other drummers, Fatool was a musician's musician--making every ensemble better for his musical presence, subtlety, and unique 'cushion.'

Highlights of this album include Fatool's solo on 'Oh, Lady Be Good' and the interaction he has with Fountain on 'The Sheik of Araby.' It's telling to contrast Fatool's duo style with Sperling's on 'I've Found a New Baby' from Live At The Bateau Lounge a few years earlier: where Sperling was expert at building tension and driving Pete's fire, Nick encourages Pete to dig into the backbeat, hit harder and longer. Both end up lighting the crowd on fire.

The English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams once suggested to American composers that they not neglect the tunes of Stephen Foster. Such songs, he felt, bore the seeds of a great musical culture to be built. The last tune of this album demonstrates the time had come by 1965, with Pete and the band elevating Foster's 'She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain' to a joyous mini-epic of street beats, climaxes, and a coda to an album that jazz fans will want to return to for years.

This is yet another classic Pete Fountain album in need of reissuing.

  

Pete Fountain Autograph (Eric Seddon Collection)

Pete Fountain with Charles 'Bud' Dant & His Orchestra * Licorice Stick * Coral Records (CRL 57460) * 1964

Side 1

1. Licorice Stick (Fountain-Owen Bradley-Dant)
2. Young Maiden's Prayer (Fountain-Bradley-Dant)
3. Gravy Waltz
4. Fountain Blue
5. Tippin In
6. Estrellita

Side 2

1. Hello Dolly
2. Maria Elena
3. Clairnet Strip (Fountain-Bradley-Dant)
4. Born To Lose
5. The Honey Wind Blows
6. I Love You So Much It Hurts


Clarinet solo with Orchestra and Choir accompaniment 


From the outset of this odd album we're greeted by a wordless chorus, banjo, and simplistic clarinet melody over 'rhythm changes.' It sounds a bit as though Ravel got lost in a department store in the Ozarks. For all it's odd simplicity, though, the tune is an historic one, at least in a crossover sense. Entitled 'Licorice Stick', it was co-written by Fountain, Owen Bradley, and Charles 'Bud' Dant. Jazz fans might not recognize the name of Owen Bradley (who shares composer credits with Fountain and Dant on three numbers), but to the history of Nashville, he is quite an important figure. His Country Music Hall of Fame page credits him with shaping what became known as the "Nashville Sound" and even mentions Pete Fountain:

Owen Bradley was named head of Decca’s Nashville division in 1958, from which position he helped shape the evolution of the Nashville Sound. Like Chet Atkins, his counterpart at RCA, Bradley put singers out front, using rhythm sections consisting of guitars, bass, drums, and piano to provide basic support and adding background harmony parts or string sections as needed. The resulting music was easily accessible to a wide range of listeners. In addition to turning out hits by Decca’s country acts, Bradley also produced a Grammy-winning record for folk star Burl Ives (1962) and attracted Dixieland clarinetist Pete Fountain and pop organist Lenny Dee to Nashville. Bradley himself scored pop hits for Decca in 1957 (“White Silver Sands”) and 1958 (“Big Guitar”).  

So far as I can tell, this album is the first of Pete's artistic efforts to combine New Orleans clarinet with the Nashville sound. Before purists get themselves into too much of a frenzy, and start shouting about 'commercialism' it's important to consider a couple of things. First, Pete never abandoned his hard earned jazz style, which was a combination of New Orleans, swing, and cooler west coast jazz. He continued to perform and record in that style for the rest of his days. Second, Pete's interest in the Nashville sound might not have been so completely mercenary as fans often assume. In his autobiography, he pointed out that his father was never much of a jazz fan--his dad actually preferred Country music. Discussing a later album, for instance, Pete tells this story:

Recently I have been recording in Nashville, where Owen Bradley has shown me some fantastic things about the business. There are more great musicians sitting around in the recording studios there than you can believe. They are loose. 

My most recent album, New Orleans, Tennessee, was done there. It has a great country flair, really a swinging sound. Pop listened to it and said,"I'm glad you finally started to play some good music." He is still a staunch country-and-western fan. [pg 191] 

It's in this spirit that we ought to listen to the Nashville efforts of Pete Fountain--not as a contribution to New Orleans style jazz, but as a new type of fusion. As such, they are at least unique, and as I have suggested before, seem a forerunner to Pat Metheny's Americana tinged guitar works.

'Young Maiden's Prayer' is another Fountain-Bradley-Dant collaboration, featuring Pete's full chalumeau singing a melody that hints at 'Amazing Grace', 'Deep River', and any number of other old spirituals. The backbeat is Nashville, with guitar giving country blues fills, and a twanged bass guitar that will be tough for some jazz fans to adjust to, but if accepted on its own terms is decent enough, if dated.

Ray Brown and Steve Allen's 'Gravy Waltz' is a return to the more easy listening jazz style Dant and Fountain cultivated on I Love Paris a year before. The strings are less country, more Hollywood tinged.

Rod McKuen's 'Fountain Blue' is a pretty little ballad for Pete to play, with the Nashville sound (wordless female vocal, rhythm section, plinking piano) backing him up. Tunes like this are strong enough to warrant more performances, especially among clarinetists.

With 'Tippin' In' the album goes honky-tonk suddenly, and honestly, the record starts to seem a bit of a bizarre hodge-podge. 'Estrellita' rights the ship a bit, focusing once again on Pete's mellow chalumeau ballad capabilities.

One Side Two, Pete attempts to draft a bit off of Louis Armstrong's mega-hit 'Hello Dolly.' It would probably have benefited from a real jazz treatment with Pete's gigging band. This version comes off sounding too canned. There's a strange moment when a female voice says "Play it one more time"--the whole thing seems disembodied, as though the woman wasn't even in the same room as the band. It's a weird dissociated feeling one gets from some of this music, which I find paradoxically interesting but a bit creepy too--like hanging out in an abandoned shopping center after hours. This is even the zeitgeist for 'Maria Elena', a beautiful little melody Pete was to perform and record often. With 'Clarinet Strip,' we get some timbres that seem to have been sampled and used by They Might Be Giants thirty years later. To quote Johnny Carson, it's "weird, wild stuff." 

This is a strange, sometimes awkward album for a jazz fan to listen to. I have no idea how it was received in 1964. It must have done well enough for Pete to make several more in the Nashville style. It's not my cup of tea...though I'll admit to a sort of strange attraction to figuring it out. To me it's like seeing your favorite Shakespearean in a really odd B movie. You can't help but watch it. Besides, as I wrote above, it really did aim at something unique--and at moments comes close to reaching something special. As a musician always looking for more creative projects and ways to reach out to new audiences, I think this album (and the Nashville projects which followed) are of definite value.

In the end, though, I think Pete will be best remembered for his New Orleans style work, and of albums that are like this one,  I prefer 1962's Swing Low, Sweet Clarinet, which already hinted at this direction.

Pete Fountain * Plenty of Pete * Coral Records (CRL 757424) * 1963

Side One

After You've Gone

Medley: a. Stardust b. Is It True What They Say About Dixie 

c. When The Saints Go Marching In d. Dixie

Don't Be That Way

On The Sunny Side Of The Street

Side Two

Just One Of Those Things

Stranger On The Shore

Jazz Me Blues

Blue Skies

Pete Fountain, clarinet

Jack Sperling, drums

Morty Corb, bass 

Godfrey Hirsch, vibes

Bobbie Gibbons, guitar 

John Propst, piano


Rigid traditionalists (perhaps more than a little intimidated by Pete's virtuosity) dismiss Pete Fountain as tainted by styles beyond the borders of the Crescent City. Conversely, modernists (perhaps jealous of his emotional connection with audiences) dismiss him as too traditional. Albums like this, however, reveal Fountain for what he was: a jazzman very much of his day and age, fusing the old seamlessly with the new; respecting the traditions of his native city while moving them forward.

Plenty of Pete is first and foremost one of those clear, crisp nightclub sets he was so adept at shaping, and perfectly in the line of his earlier small combo albums for Coral. Listeners familiar with Pete Fountain's New Orleans,  At the Bateau Lounge, Pete Fountain's French Quarter, and Pete Fountain's Music from Dixie will find themselves once again at Pete Fountain's French Quarter Inn on Bourbon Street, sipping a drink in the cool air conditioning. It's also one of Pete's more outward looking albums of that era, paying homage to Benny Goodman in particular by featuring a number of tunes directly associated with the King of Swing, beginning with 'After You've Gone.'

'After You've Gone' is one of those tunes that was lodged permanently in the jazz clarinet canon by Jimmie Noone and his Apex Club Orchestra, from there influencing a young Benny Goodman, who went global with it, using the tune as a small group show piece from the mid-1930s throughout the rest of his career. Fountain's version is based substantially on Goodman's, but the execution, tempo, and head arrangement are uniquely Fountain-esque, with lilt, drive, and virtuosity all his own.

After a medley that includes 'Stardust' and a couple of standard New Orleans tunes ('Is It True What They Say About Dixie?" and 'The Saints') we're back in Benny's territory with a smooth version of 'Don't Be That Way.' Side One wraps up with a cool, subtle, take 'On the Sunny Side of the Street', Godfrey Hirsh's vibes setting the table perfectly each time for Pete's main course. 

Side Two opens with 'Just One of Those Things', the band moving very much like other modern jazz ensembles of the early '60s, then taking on Acker Bilk's smash hit 'Stranger on the Shore.' I'm not sure if this is the first example of an American clarinetist covering a British clarinetist's tune (there had of course been plenty of trans-atlantic influences among other song writers earlier than this), but it's certainly a very successful one. Pete and the boys give their own Gulf Coast take, adding some walking up-tempo choruses after the theme, in nice contrast to the original.

The album closes out with satisfying versions of 'Jazz Me Blues' and 'Blue Skies', demonstrating the permanent value of both numbers in the repertoire.

As I continue to survey these classic albums (this is my seventeenth Pete Fountain album reviewed on The Jazz Clarinet to date)  I'm astonished by the lack of reissues. To my knowledge, other than tracks which have been reissued on compilation albums, Plenty of Pete remains available only on the original vinyl, if a collector can procure a copy. I firmly believe that the jazz Pete and his groups produced--especially in the early 1960's--was as good as any recorded. In some ways, his work even exceeds the more critically touted modernists. If the public was given the chance to hear this beautiful music again in its original context, who knows what renaissance might be spurred? C.S. Lewis once mused that his age might be one day remembered as that of Tolkien and Wodehouse, rather than Lawrence and Joyce. As time progressed, he turned out to be more prophetic than the scoffers imagined. What if the '60s, someday, are similarly remembered as much for Fountain as Miles? They'd have to be re-released, of course, but the amount of beauty and joy to be found here ought to be enough to inspire such a project. Is there really so much beauty and joy in the world that we can afford to leave any of it behind?


    

Pete Fountain Mardi Gras Medallion
(Eric Seddon Collection)

Pete Fountain with Phil Zito * Dixieland Express * Columbia (CL 6110) * 1950

Side One

Bob Cats
Shine
Bye and Bye
Original Dixieland One Step

Side Two

She'll Be Coming 'Round the Mountain
Zito's Zag
Clarinet Marmalade
Tulane Swing

Phil Zito and his New Orleans International City Dixielanders

Phil Zito, drums
Pete Fountain, clarinet
George Girard, trumpet
Joe Rotis, trombone
Roy Zimmerman, piano
Emile Christian, bass


In the last months of 1949, a nineteen year old Pete Fountain went into the studio to record with Phil Zito's band, the somewhat wordily named New Orleans International City Dixielanders. Until someone tells me otherwise, from the research I've managed, these appear to be the first commercial recordings of Pete Fountain.

Impressively, Pete was already a mature New Orleans style player--in fact,  he was beyond what most players reach in terms of the technical demands of this music. To perform this style effectively, a clarinetist needs a commanding sound in all registers--one that can cut through trumpet, trombone, and rhythm section with equal polyphonic strength, all while maintaining a good tone and intonation. Most clarinetists fall short in one or more of these categories. Beyond that, the clarinetist must maintain excellent rhythmic drive, playing firmly in the groove of the beat, and swinging effectively. Because the clarinet is the fleetest instrument on the front line, with the largest tesitura, arpeggiating the chord structures and outlining the harmonies is often a primary task. In short, the clarinet's role, like all others in a New Orleans style band, has specific demands rhythmically and harmonically. Fountain, by age 19, was already master of these aspects--forming rococo embellishments to the melodies at times, harmonizing George Girard's trumpet leads at others, creating altissimo obligatos at climaxes--all while making sure not to step on anyone else's line. He was also a strong soloist, featured throughout this album from the very first chorus on 'Bob Cats' forward.

This is a short, ten-inch LP, featuring only eight numbers which average somewhere around two minutes and fifty seconds or so per tune. That means there isn't much musical 'stretching out' in terms of soloing here. Indeed, most of these numbers sound like previews--we're left to imagine what the band sounded like live when they really took off from these templates and let it rip.

Highlights include Pete's work on 'Bob Cats', and his obligato playing on the opening of 'Bye and Bye' followed by his uptempo comping and chorus. This recording of 'Bye and Bye' is particularly interesting in that it attests to the influence of George Lewis, which Pete was to cite later in his career. While Faz and Benny were his most dominant influences, Pete often talked about the importance of sitting in with Lewis: this early recording is probably the most eloquent example of the fruits of that relationship. Pete was already the more technically adept player, and would go on to musical projects beyond the abilities of Lewis, but the focus on soul, the spiritual, and tradition was to play an important and decisive part in Fountain's art throughout his career.

The rest of this band is excellent--truly complimentary musicians for Pete, and an excellent example of Hot Jazz, New Orleans Style, Dixieland or whatever you want to call it. The polyphony is there, the groove, the mastery of their instruments. The only complaint: there isn't more of it. Fortunately Pete was to spend a long lifetime adding recordings for us...

Pete Fountain's Music from Dixie * Coral Records (CRL 757401) * 1963

Bye Bye Bill Bailey
I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate
High Society
(When It's) Darkness on the Delta
Song of the Wanderer (Where Shall I Go?)
Dixie Jubilee

Struttin' With Some Barbeque
Shine
Chlo-e (Song of the Swamp)
Milenberg Joys
When You're Smiling (The Whole World Smiles With You)
Hallelujah 

Pete Fountain * Clarinet
Charles Teagarden * Trumpet
Eddie Miller * Tenor Saxophone
Moe Schneider * Trombone
Bobby Gibbons * Guitar
Stan Wrightsman * Piano
Morty Corb * Bass
Jack Sperling * Drums


As a general rule, any album from the early 1960s that says "Coral" and "Pete Fountain" on the cover is worth listening to, over and over again. Pete Fountain's Music from Dixie is no exception, proof of which is that several cuts from this album have been re-released many times on 'Greatest Hits' albums.

From the opening 'Bye Bye Bill Bailey' we know it's going to be a swinging time--the band sounds relaxed, comfortable, and ready to play. Fans of the raw energy of the old Pete Fountain/Al Hirt sides of the mid-1950s might wish this set wasn't mellower in comparison, but these twelve standards give us a different feel--instead of that youthful exuberance, we get the more polished, professional work the band was doing nightly at Pete Fountain's French Quarter Inn.

Charles Teagarden (brother of the more famous, trombone playing Jack) plays an excellent New Orleans style lead trumpet when called upon (as in 'High Society') but we've certainly moved to the model Pete was use for most of his career: a less boisterous trumpet, allowing his clarinet to take center stage. The same approach was used by Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, and Edmond Hall in their small groups--trumpeters, even when they had the lead, were kept more mellow--often playing lead lines muted, or underlining melodies played by the clarinetists. Truth be told, Pete stayed closer to the earlier New Orleans model than most of the others--he really gives Charley the lead, without mute, while weaving his harmonies and countermelodies in true polyphonic style. In many ways Pete was unparalleled in this quintessentially New Orleans function of clarinetistry--his lines, whether closely harmonizing or in soaring obligato, were some of the finest and most diverse ever captured on recording. Because Pete has this extended band (a full New Orleans contingent), this album can alternate between intimate ballad material to uptempo street beats and swing--sometimes shifting back and forth between those poles in the same tunes.

'Darkness on the Delta' from this album is one of my favorite renditions for the beautiful interplay between Fountain and Stan Wrightsman's piano comping. Also for smaller combo, Pete's version of 'Shine' is a real treat, for the reason that so many of his Goodman quartet inspired covers are: he makes the tune his own, resisting the temptation of playing at break neck speed. Here, and many other places, Pete demonstrates a principle of importance to any jazz clarinetist: more phrasing, more character, and more attention to groove will yield a far better result than turning a tune into 'Jazz Kroepsch' with a polka beat (we've all heard that, haven't we?) Pete was sometimes criticized by clarinetist's with less competent technique for being 'too flashy' during his career, but reengaging his actual work shows otherwise -- he rarely took extreme tempos, more frequently crafting beautiful vibrant up tempo choruses.

Pete's version of 'Chlo-e' is of very different character than Goodman's lilting big band chart. The Fountain ensemble takes a full verse before the chorus, and plays in a deep, relaxed ballad manner. Really the diversity of moods on the album us exceptional, and an indication of why his nightclub shows were so successful.

'Struttin' with some Barbeque' for the full band is another highlight--one of Pete's earlier recordings of the classic Armstrong tune. 'Milenberg Joys' shows how well old standards can be updated--a listener would be forgiven for thinking it was a relatively new tune for 1963, and it sounds pretty well timeless even now. The whole album comes to a satisfying conclusion with 'Hallelujah', which is exactly what I want to say now that this music is available once again, in downloadable reissue.

Music from Dixie captures the mature Fountain ensemble and concept--a format he would maintain for a significant portion of his career. Some of the earlier Coral albums are notable for their sheer excitement and freshness. This one is more measured, but it's a solid, professional outing of interest that never lets the listener down.