Friday, December 27, 2013

Duke Ellington's Black And Tan Fantasy: Gunther Schuller On Bubber Miley

Schuller also provides additional background on Miley, a trumpet player who left the Ellington band so early on that he is sometimes neglected by students who become apostles to the Gospel According To Sts. Williams, Nance, Anderson, & Terry: “The interesting question is how were Ellington and his men, all of whom were very much part of [the] Eastern tradition, able to transcend it in the late 1920s and early 1930s and create a unique kind of big band jazz. Bubber Miley was largely responsible for the initial steps through his introduction of a rougher sound into the band. Ellington himself is quite clear about Bubber's influence: 'Bubber used to growl all night long, playing gutbucket on his horn. That was when we decided to forget all about the sweet music.' Miley heard King Oliver in Chicago and Johnny Dunn in New York and began to use the growl and the plunger. He in turn helped teach the same techniques to the band's trombonists—Charlie Irvis and his replacement in late 1926, Joe 'Tricky Sam' Nanton—who were also influenced by a now forgotten St. Louis trombonist, Jonas Walker, reputed to be the first to apply New Orleans 'freak' sounds to his instrument. It was Miley and Nanton who developed the band's famous 'jungle' effects through their use of the growl and plunger.

“Actually Miley's influence extended far beyond these effects. He was not only the band's most significant soloist but actually wrote, alone or with Ellington, many of the compositions in the band's book between 1927 and 1929. Although the extent of Miley's contribution has not yet been accurately assessed, there seems little doubt that those compositions that bear Bubber's name along with Ellington's were primarily created by Miley. These include the three most important works of the period—recorded in late 1926 and early 1927—East St. Louis Toodle-Oo, Black and Tan Fantasy, and Creole Love Call.

“In the one-year period November 1926 to December 1927, only four of the seventeen pieces recorded were written by song writers outside the band, while five of the remaining numbers, including those named above, were by Miley. Ellington, in turn, created six pieces, and Otto Hardwick, two. Actually some of Ellington's numbers might well belong more properly to other members of the band, as it was common practice—and, indeed, still is today [the late 1960's, as Schuller wrote]—for the leader of a band to take full credit for works created by the band and written by members of it.

“Miley also had a marvelous melodic gift, one inextricably linked to his growl and plunger technique. As with any great performer or composer, pitch and color derive simultaneously from the initial inspiration. In separating these elements here, it is only to point out that Miley's enormous contribution to pure classic melody in jazz has been unfortunately neglected up to this point. To my knowledge, only Roger Pryor Dodge has tried to show that Miley's importance goes beyond the fashioning of extravagant, bizarre muted effects.”

(Schuller, Early Jazz 326-27).

Duke Ellington's Black And Tan Fantasy: Gunther Schuller's Insights

Gunther Schuller discusses this tune in some depth (bear in mind that his comments concern the 1927 recordings, but Duke did not make substantial changes to this chart over the years, so most of what Schuller has to say applies even to Ellington's most late-era recordings of Black and Tan Fantasy): Black and Tan Fantasy . . . gives further evidence of the difference in artistic levels at that time [1927] between [Bubber] Miley and Ellington. The piece consists of Miley's twelve-bar theme based on the classic blues progression (Roger Pryor Dodge explains that the melody of Black and Tan Fantasy is a transmutation of part of a sacred song by Stephen Adams that Bubber's sister used to sing), three choruses on the same (two by Miley, one by Nanton), an arranged ensemble passage, a twelve-bar Ellington piano solo, and finally a recapitulation with the famous tagged-on Chopin Funeral March ending. Of these segments only two can be attributed to Ellington, and they are not only the weakest by far but are quite out of character with the rest of the record. Whereas Miley's theme, his solos—and to a lesser degree Nanton's—again reflect an unadorned pure classicism, Ellington's two contributions derive from the world of slick trying-to-be-modern show music.

. . .

“A comparison of the three 1927 recordings of Black and Tan Fantasy again shows that over a seven-month span the 'improvised' solos changed very little. Even when Jabbo Smith substitutes for Miley on the Okeh version, the over-all shape and tenor of the trumpet part do not change drastically, though in terms of particulars Jabbo's rich sound and loose way of playing make this performance even more of a fantasy. (In a still later (1930) recording of Black and Tan Fantasy, Cootie Williams also adheres to the original Miley choruses.) Miley's solo on the Victor version is one of his most striking recorded performances. It makes brilliant use of the plunger mute and the growl; but it is, to our ears, forty years later, especially startling in its abundant use of the blue notes, notably the flat fifth in the first bar of the second chorus. It is also a highly dramatic solo, equal to anything achieved up to that time by the New Orleans trumpet men. And perhaps none of them ever achieved the extraordinary contrast produced by the intense stillness of the four-bar-long high b flat, suddenly erupting, as if unable to contain itself any longer, into a magnificently structured melodic creation.

“[Regarding] Johnny Dunn's influence upon Miley. The latter's solo on Black and Tan Fantasy is an excellent case in point. Both the triplet run in measure nine and the use of a plunger mute were basic elements of Dunn's style, as can be heard on his 1923 recordings of Dunn's Cornet Blues and You've Never Heard the Blues.”

(Gunther Schuller, Early Jazz 329-31).

Duke Ellington's Black And Tan Fantasy: Overview

The term “Black and Tan” has negative connotations dating back to the Irish War of Independence, when the “Black & Tans” were British members of the Royal Irish Constabulary, but when the term was also used to refer to the paramilitary Auxiliary Division troops who carried out many atrocities against the civilian population in retaliation for attacks by the Irish Republican Army. That said, however, this tune has nothing to do with Ireland. Instead, its title refers to a club that served both white and black patrons. This is one of Duke Ellington's oldest compositions, dating to 1927. Your arrangement is from the mid-1940's. Get out the plungers and start growling, trumpets, but this one also puts the baritone sax to the fore. The simple, repetitious sax backings behind the solos are some of the most recognizable blues licks ever written.

The liner notes to Black, Brown & Beige (The 1944-1946 RCA/Victor Recordings) say this about this particular version of the tune: “Recalling the jungle sounds Duke played in the 1920's during his tenure at the Cotton Club, this arrangement also offers a third view of an old piece. Third because on January 13, 1938, Duke recorded an extended version of this piece on two sides of a disc. Part I was the Prologue to Black And Tan Fantasy, part II, The New Black And Tan Fantasy. In his last extended solo on disc with the Ellington orchestra, 'Tricky Sam,' Joe Nanton remembers his old section mate, trumpeter-composer Bubber Miley (1903-1932) who made an artist's tool out of a toilet plunger. Harry Carney plays the second theme, which was originally assigned to Otto Hardwick.”

I would make a personal request on this tune—though certainly not a demand: If you happen to have a vocalist who is really and truly up to the task, this would be one heck of a tune to add a chorus or two of Bessie Smith-style coarse blues singing to. I realize that is a tall order for any high school vocalist; after all, Smith was singing from a very hard life that it is frankly almost impossible for most suburbanite high school musicians to relate to (the same can be said of the stylistically different Billie Holiday). If a vocalist does a poor job with this style, then it invariably comes across as condescending and slapdash at best, or racist and offensive at worst. But if one of this year's vocalists is willing to seriously study the Bessie Smith material in the Listening Lab (I recommend an outstanding 2-LP set of 1920s material by her, Bessie Smith: The Empress), a really solid chorus or two of dirty blues (the vocalist equivalent of plunger mute brass playing) would fit perfectly in this chart.
 
 Here are the Rehearsal Notes by David Berger from the Essentially Ellington score:
  • The pep section (trumpets 1 and 3 and trombone 2) should move in front of the band for letter A. The trombone should stay there for the entire piece since he solos from D to the end. Being in the front will enable them to play with completely closed plungers and still be heard. This is important – they have the melody.
  • The rhythm section needs to play with energy and forward motion throughout. Although the guitar, bass and drums mostly play quarter notes, it is essential for them to feel the underlying eighth note triplet even though they rarely play it. The piano, bass and drum parts should be learned. Then when the players understand the form sufficiently, they should play what they hear as good accompaniment to the ensemble (always keeping in mind the needs of the composition). Improvisational interplay in the rhythm section is an essential part of any jazz performance.
  • Although the recording features a baritone saxophone solo at B and C, I have notated the solo for the lead alto (which is how this arrangement was originally conceived). If you choose, you may give the solo to your baritone player. In any case, this should not be swung, but rather played with even eighth notes. This is the secondary melody of this piece and needs to be played as written or slightly paraphrased.
  • The trombone solo at D was a set piece for Tricky Sam, but the chord symbols have been included so that the player can improvise his own blues solo. Even if the trombonist elects to play his own solo, he/she should learn this classic blues chorus. Letter E should be played as is or paraphrased only slightly. This was Bubber Miley's solo and is part of the melody of this piece. Incidentally, Tricky Sam only plays three beats in the first and third measures of E. This sounds a bit strange, so I have restored these measures to their original 4/4 structure. These breaks at E must be played in time so that the punctuations on 4 of bars 2 and 4 feel absolutely natural. These ensemble responses should make the sound “WHOP.”
  • Dynamics are important. This is an understated, but swinging, piece.
Wynton Marsalis adds the following: “Duke Ellington's take on New Orleans' funereal music. It must be played with feelings of nostalgia and pathos. Feeling, soul, and intensity come together under the supervisory eye of a steady, march-like pulse. This arrangement can be opened up for solos, and is an excellent vehicle for the development of muted vocal techniques in the brass. Duke and the fellas sound like they had a little trouble with that call-and-response break at the end. But that's okay. That's life.”1

1A reed player of some note once pointed out to me that the Ellington recording of Anitra's Dance from The Peer Gynt Suite, which features a ludicrously acrobatic clarinet solo, was actually spliced so that Jimmy Hamilton's final flourish would come out right. The natural “hiss” heard behind the entire recording cuts out in the instant silence between the recording and its final one or two seconds, and the final second or two has a totally different “hiss” behind it. As Wynton says, that's life. Not even Duke Ellington and his men were perfect.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Gerald Wilson's Teri

This tune was originally released on Moment Of Truth, the same album as Nancy Jo, but is a ballad rather than a burner. The guitar is featured here, right from the first note. Brass and saxes need to be very very understated except for the occasional moments when the trombone and trumpet responses to the melody become more strident. Bari should speak up to the extent appropriate in context (relative to the whole ensemble) when you have key parts of the bass line—the strong sax voice is really the bari here. Piano should bring out the color responses to the same extent heard on the recording.

The liner notes to the original LP have this to say: Teri (named for one of the three daughters of Wilson) is the highlight of the album for this writer. A setting in moody ballad form for Joe Pass, it features him non-amplified. Pass gets a splendid harp-like quality, with the band providing a sighing subtle background. . . . Gerald's ballads are really jazz tunes, however, as surely as any up-tempo jazz standard and as far from Tin Pan alley as you can get.”

The original recording features Joe Pass, one of the greatest jazz guitarists. He has more than fifty (50) albums under his own name, in addition to countless sessions as a sideman. He is even heard on the final 1973 Ellington small group album, Duke's Big 4. The Wilson recording was made only a year after Pass' debut album, Songs Of Synanon, was released; that album was named after a drug treatment center—and, later, a cult and self-proclaimed “church”—where Pass spent time in the early 1960s. Pass recorded so many albums on Norman Granz's Pablo label in the 1970s that sometimes think he was to Pablo what Bird and Diz were to Verve.

Forty years later, Wilson re-recorded the chart with his son, Anthony Wilson, in the featured role. The 2002 recording, from New York New Sound, is notable especially for the more transparent microphone work that seems to have produced a lot more transparency in the end recording. Even though most critics believe that Wilson has never exceeded the caliber of his 1960s big band, the advances in recording technology seem to have allowed the studio in 2002 to separate out the voices much better. You can now clearly hear, for example, the lead alto, which is subsumed by the ensemble far more in the original recording.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Gerald Wilson's Nancy Jo: Liner Notes (from album New York New Sound)

The liner notes for New York New Sound have this to say, inter alia: “Composer-arranger-trumpeter-band leader-film scorer-educator, Wilson boasts enough hyphens to flourish in the Big Orange and enough energy to ignite any of those specialties in the Big Apple. Added to those talents, he has the advantage of hindsight plus synergy to put all genres in perspective. Gerald has graced the scene for 85 years! And he remains as lean and as sharp as that exclamation point. Wilson not only knows all about jazz . . . his life virtually covers the history of jazz. He has played with and written for the cream of the crop, and his big band, thanks to his big book, has consistently pushed the envelope, creating boppish ideas before it was hip to be hep.

“No, he did not study with Buddy Bolden, but he proudly lists Jimmie Lunceford, Count Basie and Duke Ellington in his resumé. He, Willie Smith and Clark Terry were among the first blacks to play in the U.S. Navy Band; Wilson has written well over 100 arrangements just for Ella Fitzgerald, Ray Charles and Nancy Wilson; he even wrote a classical work for the L.A. Philharmonic at the request of music director Zubin Mehta; he's now teching at UCLA. (In his spare time he's a brain surgeon.)

“There's East Coast Jazz, there's West Coast Jazz, and Mack Avenue Records' head honcho, Stix Hooper, founder of the Houston-bred Crusaders, swears there's Gulf Coast Jazz. Face it, while there are many seething centers of swinging sounds (New Orleans, Chicago, Boston, Detroit, etc.) seemingly the two main cosmopolitan convergences where the art of jazz is being refined and re-defined 24/7 is New York and Los Angeles, which brings us to an under appreciated genius who has conquered both: Gerald Wilson.

“For this album, the only non-laid back resident of L.A. Was in a New York state of mind, and came up with a session that sounds like it was written by a cat half his age. Between the jet-propelled bookends of “Milestones” and “Nancy Jo,” are outstanding examples of Gerald's thick-textured wide voicings providing plenty of stretch-out room for such stellar soloists as Jimmy Owens, trumpet; Luis Bonilla, trombone; Jesse Davis, alto sax; Jimmy Heath, tenor sax; and Kenny Barron, piano.

. . .

“'New York, New Sound' turned out to be quite a big band bash. Hooper correctly labeled it 'a party.' Another participant, pianist Renee Rosnes, summed up the leader's charisma most eloquently: 'If I were to watch a silent film of Gerald conducting, I would still be able to experience the swing of the music, his presence is that powerful.'”

The New York New Sound recording features solos by Sean Jones on trumpet, Jesse Davis on alto saxophone, Anthony Wilson (the composer-arranger-director's son) on guitar, and Kenny Barron on piano.

Gerald Wilson's Nancy Jo: Liner Notes (from album State Street Sweet)

The liner notes for State Street Sweet include these comments: “A Quiet Legend: Two years ago at the Monterey Jazz Festival, I was engaged in conversation with several colleagues. We were celebrating life, exchanging ideas, and reflecting on how lucky we were to be in a beautiful environment, communing with some of the giants of the jazz world.

“In mid-sentence, from across the room, I caught a glimpse of an unmistakable profile. There stood Gerald Wilson, confident, with the radiant air of a master craftsman who holds a great secret. I hadn't seen Gerald since Verona Jazz '86, but his broad smile and charismatic eyes signaled that, at 74, he continued to drink from the fountain of youth. While photographers clamored around lesser-credentialed “young lions,” Wilson stood in meditative concentration – a noble, dignified grand master of the art of jazz.

“'Hey, there's my man, Gerald Wilson!' I exclaimed, but the look on my colleagues' faces brought me to the sobering realization that they were unfamiliar with this great talent. Surprisingly, while he is heralded by many as a seasoned orchestrator, educator, and pillar of strength in the jazz community, there are still those who are unfamiliar with the genius of Gerald Wilson.

“I quickly educated my friends. After all, for the past fifty-one years Gerald has led one of the most dynamic, talent-laden big bands in the country. A chair in the Wilson Orchestra is a badge of honor in the jazz world. In fact, a list of the musicians who have passed through the band – including Teddy Edwards, Bobby Hutcherson, Joe Pass, Harold Land, Oscar Brashear, Ernie Watts, Jack Wilson, Anthony Ortega, Jerome Richardson, Garnet Brown, Buddy Collette, Bobby Bryant, Paul Humphrey, Roy Ayers, George Duke, and more – reads like a Who's Who of major league improvisers.

“And Wilson stands as one of the great compositional innovators of our time. Trumpeter Mike Price once told me, 'Gerald is interested in creating new aspects of compositional form, rather than the stylized arrangements of older song form. Instead of a standard eight-bar bridge, he works at creating new relationships. The relationship from section to section and composition to composition is always subject to change; thus the listener and the players are always a little bit 'on the edge,' because something new and surprising is always just around the corner!'

“A true orchestrator, Wilson writes in a complex tonal fashion that embodies all of the raw energy, powerful force, and subtle finesse of its maker. Unlike many composers, Gerald doesn't limit himself to four and five note chords. Instead, he employs up to eight-note polytonality to create his rich harmonizations. Yet the most pervasive element in Wilson's music is its intense energy. It is that energy, coupled with his brilliant use of dynamics, and his complex, variegated compositional patterns that together produce his unmistakable sound.

“Interestingly, Wilson has never relied on outside composers or arrangers.1 Gerald breathes through his music, and his compositions, life experience, and orchestra are all inexorably linked. Like Duke Ellington before him, he has his finger on the pulse of the African-American community. His music, rooted in passion and directly tied to the people, has always been relevant to the 'vibe' on the street. Accordingly, it has been embraced by artists as diverse as El Chicano, who scored a major pop hit with Wilson's 'Viva Tirado' in 1970, and Kid Frost, who more recently unveiled a rap version of this same Wilson classic.

“For Wilson, this collection represents a homecoming in many ways. Aside from reworking many of his classic compositions, he chose to record the session at the famed Capitol Studios, where years ago he had worked with Bobby Darin, Nancy Wilson, and many other talents. Gerald recalls that his band was among the first to record at this subterranean state-of-the-art facility way back in the '50s. 'The studio has always modernized with the continuing advent of new technology,' he ntoes, 'but it still brings back a lot of fond memories.

. . .

“The final selection, Nancy Jo, looks back to 19632 and the release of the classic 'Moment of Truth' album. Originally composed in 1957 for one of Wilson's three daughters, it harkens back to his seminal work with Lunceford and his compositions for the Basie band. Judging from the energy generated by this burner, Nancy Jo must have been a spunky, adventurous child. (Gerald assures me that she still is!) It features solos by Brian O'Rourke on piano, Tony Lujan on trumpet, Randall Willis on alto sax and Anthony Wilson3 on guitar.”

1Note the similarity to Duke Ellington and Benny Carter in this regard.
2Actually 1962.
3Gerald Wilson's son.

Gerald Wilson's Nancy Jo: Liner Notes (from Fresh Sound Records re-issue)

The liner notes from Fresh Sound Records' re-release of You Better Believe It! & Moment Of Truth read: “Composer, arranger and trumpeter Gerald Wilson has recorded big band albums of extraordinarily consistent brilliance throughout his remarkable and enormously long career. And those he made in the 1960s represent one of several peaks. On both You Better Believe It! And its worthy follow-up Moment of Truth, Wilson's writing is personal and uncluttered; he resists the temptation to deploy all his forces at once, building logically to climactic tutti passages, dealing mostly with blues and groovy originals. The orchestra, made up of top West Coast men, generates a strong drive, plays cleanly and precisely, and was blessed with fine soloists. Holmes is impressive with a big band shouting behind and around him. Carmell Jones, who is also heavily featured, shows he was a thinking young musician. But as good as them were Teddy Edwards, Walter Benton, Harold Land, Joe Maini, Jack Wilson, and guitarist Joe Pass, who plays stunningly in every one of his featured segments. Amid this wealth of jazz talent, though, Wilson's writing, particularly on Moment of Truth, remains the star of the show, with a harmonic sophistication that is never exercised at the expense of jazz virtues like groove, drive and swing.

“Gerald Wilson was born in Shelby on September 4, 1918, but spent little time there after reaching school age. His parents sent him to Memphis during the primary grade stage and later he was put on a train for Detroit where he attended Cass Technical High School and had musicians like tenor-man Sam Donahue and trombonist Bobby Byrne for classmates.

“Item: In 1939, at the age of 21, he replaced Sy Oliver with the Lunceford band, remaining until 1942. In 1944, he formed his own big band and for a time enjoyed heady success playing locations such as New York's Apollo Theater and the El Grotto in Chicago, the later for $3,900 a week. Contracted by Louis Jordan to play 13 weeks in a top theater circuit, he disbanded 'with a drawer full of signed contracts.'

“Why, with things going well and prospects getting better, did Wilson decide to quit? The answer was characteristic of the man.

“'I had to stop and study,' he explained reflectively in 1962 'And it was the best thing I ever did. If I had not, I wouldn't be where I am today.'”

Gerald Wilson's Nancy Jo: Liner Notes (from album Moment Of Truth)

Here are the original liner notes from Moment of Truth: “Jazz has never been noted for the prolonged success of its big bands. Most listeners know that they can number on their fingers the large aggregations that have existed for more than a year outside the recording studio. While the ones that have actually become fixtures in jazz and important to its history number only slightly more than half a dozen, all told. It is no less sorrowful to realize that the situation has gotten worse rather than better in recent years. In fact, it can safely be said that Gerald Wilson's Big Band, the musical efforts of which are here enclosed, is one of perhaps three distinctly new and sustainedly successful such organizations to emerge in the last 20 years!


“Gerald Wilson, the gentleman jazz trumpeter debuted this great new aggregation on record about a year ago in what is now a jazz classic album ('You Better Believe It!'). Rating 4 1/2 stars in Down Beat, and unanimous huzzahs from critics and fans alike throughout the world, it featured such soloists as Richard Holmes, Carmell Jones, Harold Land, and Teddy Edwards. The last three named, regular members of the band in the interim while it played numerous engagements in southern California, are back herein. Additionally, new soloists are in—altoist Bud Shank, guitarist Joe Pass, and pianist Jack Wilson. But much more importantly, Gerald Wilson's composing and arranging gifts are again excitingly on display. Whereas in the debut album the blues were stressed, the present recording finds Gerald more fully revealing the scope of his talents in settings varying from the blues to Latin, to the jazz ballad, and to swinging up-tempo selections of complex harmonic structure. 'The album,' Gerald points out, 'is called 'Moment of Truth!' because the band is now a reality—a truth, and this album is representative of that truth. We, its members and I, feel that it is a new band in the best sense of that term. We're a band that plays mostly original material in the contemporary jazz idiom—material written mostly for the band and material,' he stresses, 'by what I would call the really creative writers in jazz today.' Besides Wilson's own work, this album displays the largely unplumbed gifts of trombonist Lester Robertson, who Wilson feels is a 'fine jazz player, and a musician who really knows music.'


“ . . . Wilson is no newcomer to jazz. Besides arranging and playing for Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie, and Jimmy Lunceford, as well as other name bands, he led his own great big band in the early days of modern jazz and intermittently from then until about 1956, when the nucleus of the present organization began to take form. 'Guys like Lester Robertson and Teddy Edwards were a part of that band and are still with it,' he points out. For the most part the band has remained in the Los Angeles area where Wilson in addition to his jazz work has, like Benny Carter, become a highly successful composer and arranger for Television, Motion Pictures, and the Recording Studios. On occasion even acting roles himself, his more important musical credits include albums with Al Hibbler, Ray Charles (he has just completed a second album with Charles in New York), Nancy Wilson, and Les McCann, and musical directorship for TV and Movie items (such as The Ken Murray Spectacular). Several MGM films, and other NBC programs have also shown his work to good advantage.


“Because of its non-travelling policy in the past, the band has, of course, been able to avail itself of the cream of West Coast jazz talent. 'But,' says Wilson, 'this band is actually not dependent upon its soloists for its sound and style and interest.'1 Although he pays the highest tribute to the excellence of his men, whom he feels could not be surpassed in overall artistry and musicianship, Wilson contends that 'this band has a nucleus of players and a book that makes the soloists, not the reverse. I think we have a distinctive sound, although I don't have any special musical devices, ensemble patterns, or instrumentation to achieve this intentionally. It's mostly in my writing and arranging, but again, even here I can't say what's going to come out when I sit down to put something together—that is, I don't have a preconception of how to get the band's sound into it.' Although Wilson is self-taught as a composer and arranger, he has studied the technical aspects of his trade rigorously. 'Nobody can say they have taught me how to write or orchestrate—I haven't studied with or under anyone—but that is not to say I haven't studied long and hard, on my own. I don't feel that my lack of formal training means that I am in any way limited in my approach to the job. In fact, I feel that now, after 25 years or so of experience and study, that I can do just about anything I set about in this field.'

“Regarding his band's goals and esthetic purposes, Wilson has this to say: 'While this is not a simple band and the harmony and structure of the material are advanced, the search is for simplicity—but not simpleness. After all, the band does show its versatility and artistry, I believe, in performing such numbers in the album, for example, as Josefina, Teri, and Emerge.' As Wilson suggests, these are not easy tunes but none is difficult for the sake of being difficult. This writer believes, with Wilson, that with the release of this album, 'there's no telling where this band can go. We're ready, but we're not gonna rush it. It's taken a long time, but I wouldn't have it any other way. You can't force somethin' like this and expect it to succeeed.


“'Both in life and music,' Gerald Wilson summed up, 'I search only for the truth. I once played the part of a jazz musician known as 'The Wailer' in a television drama,' he mused. 'I had the last lines of the play to speak. I can't forget them and as a matter of fact they're from the bible.' As he spoke these words in the living room of his Los Angeles home, Wilson crossed the room, picked up The Book itself and thumbed to the source of his play lines and then read them with seriousness: ''And ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free'; that's my credo, and I think it'll see us through.'

“Listeners to the present recording can have little doubt of it.


“As for the selections . . . . Nancy Jo (another daughter) is 'medium up and crisp and somewhat reminiscent of another era,' observes Wilson. Carmell Jones has an excellent [trumpet] solo, perhaps his best on the album. He pauses at the bridge and [tenor saxophonist] Harold Land and the band enter briefly. Jones then finishes the chorus. Joe Pass [on guitar] solos brilliantly then, the band reentering on the second bridge and ploughing it home.”


1Contrast this with Ellington, who wrote specifically for the individual members of his orchestra, and whose pieces—when played best—call for emulation of the specific sounds of Harry Carney, Johnny Hodges, Lawrence Brown, Cat Anderson, Jimmy Blanton, Ben Webster, etc.

Gerald Wilson's Nancy Jo: Overview Of Major Recordings

Gerald Wilson wrote tunes named for each of his children, and Nancy Jo, of course, is one of his daughters. The original arrangement of this fast twelve-bar blues variation was recorded in 1962 on Wilson's album Moment Of Truth, which is one of his orchestra's classic “middle period” albums from the Pacific Jazz label; many consider this era to be the peak of his arranging and recording career. That is the arrangement that the Essentially Ellington program has issued this year, and that the Jazz At Lincoln Center Orchestra played during the Essentially Ellington 2013 evening concert. That said, Wilson has recorded this tune at least twice since then. Wilson's back catalogue includes a much faster 2003 recording from Wilson's New York New Sound, as well as a 1995 recording from Wilson's State Street Sweet. The 2003 recording features not only a faster tempo but also much-extended solo sections, which should suffice to make clear that neither the original pace nor the original solo sections are sacrosanct. The 1995 recording tears through the tune at the same breakneck speed, but does not open up the solo sections. Bear in mind that these are new, modern recordings from a man who was writing and arranging for the major big bands of the 1930's. The breadth and endurance of Wilson's career—which is still ongoing—is absolutely staggering.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Gerald Wilson's Dissonance In Blues

Dissonance In Blues has the same dense clusters of reed harmonies that one would expect from Ellington, and the same sort of melodic bass playing (both with bow and without!) that Jimmy Blanton (dead by the time Wilson made this recording) was the progenitor and chief exponent of. It might not be going too far to describe this as a sort of bastard child sired by a dirge blues (a la Black And Tan Fantasy) and the sort of bass-ensemble exchanges that were nowhere better exemplified than in Jack The Bear. The dynamics are also very dramatic in this chart, including some sudden forte intrusions by the brass followed by instantaneous retreats into pianissimo by the reeds (which form a bed of tones over which the bass speaks). This is a real workout in the softer dynamic range for the reeds, and a real workout in melodic playing for the bass. Have fun!

I believe that the only recording ever made of this chart is found on Gerald Wilson: The Chronological Classics: 1946-1954.

Gerald Wilson: A Great Lunceford LP Set

If you want to hear Gerald Wilson's earliest recordings from the late 1930s with the Jimmie Lunceford band, here's a great boxed set of LPs that has several sides filled with them.  Tracks 31 on all include Wilson on trumpet.

Jimmie Lunceford
The Complete Jimmie Lunceford
1939-40
CBS Special Products CBS 66421 CB 234
CBS 54131
Side 1
Jimmie Lunceford And His Orchestra
Eddie Tompkins, Tommy Stevenson, Sy Oliver (trumpets), Russell Bowles, Henry Wells (trombones), Willie Smith, Joe Thomas, Earl "Jock" Carruthers (reeds), Eddie Wilcox (piano), Al Norris (guitar), Moses Allen (bass), Jimmy Crawford (drums).
New York, May 15, 1933.
1. Flaming Reeds And Screaming Brass (2'55)
2. While Love Lasts (3'06)
Eddie Tompkins, Sy Oliver, Paul Webster (trumpets), Elmer Crumbley, Russell Bowles, James "Trummy" Young (trombones), Willie Smith, Ted Buckner, Dan Grissom, Joe Thomas, Earl Carruthers (teeds), Eddie Wilcox (piano), Al Norris (guitar), Moses Allen (bass), Jimmy Crawford (drums).
New York, January 3, 1939.
3. Rainin' (2'58)
4. 'Tain't What You Do (3'04)
5. Cheatin' On Me (2'49)
6. Cheatin' On Me (2'46) alternate take
7. La Jazz Hot (2'41)
8. La Jazz Hot (2'44) alternate take
9. Time's A-Wastin' (2'32)
10. Time's A-Wastin' (2'32) alternate take
Side 2
New York, January 31, 1939.
11. Baby, Won't You Please Come Home (2'51)
12. Baby, Won't You Please Come Home (2'50) alternate take
13. You're Just A Dream (2'51)
14. The Lonesome Road (2'31)
15. You Set Me On Fire (2'38)
16. I've Only Myself To Blame (2'45)
17. What Is This Thing Called Swing? (2'26)
18. What Is This Thing Called Swing? (2'28) alternate take
CBS 54132
19. Mixup (2'18)
20. Shoemaker's Holiday (2'50)
21. Blue Blazes (2'50)
New York, April 7, 1939.
22. Mandy (2'52)
23. Easter Parade (2'40)
24. Ain't She Sweet? (2'27)
25. White Heat (2'20)
New York, May 17, 1939.
26. Oh Why, Oh Why (2'49)
Side 4
27. Well, All Right Then (2'42)
28. Well, All Right Then (2'42) alternate take
29. You Let Me Down (2'52) unissued
30. I Love You (2'46)
Gerald Wilson (trumpet) replaces Sy Oliver.
New York, August 2, 1939.
31. Who Did You Meet Last Night? (2'35)
32. You Let Me Down (2'46)
33. Sassin' The Boss (2'43)
34. I Want The Waiter (With The Water) (2'43)
35. I Used To Love You (But It's All Over Now) (2'45)
New York, September 14, 1939.
36. Belgium Stomp (2'29)
CBS 54133
Side 5
37. You Can Fool Some Of The People (Some Of The Time) (2'21)
38. Think Of Me, Little Daddy (2'42)
39. Liza (All The Clouds'll Roll Away) (2'37)
Eugene "Snooky" Young (trumpet) replaces Eddie Tompkins.
New York, December 14, 1939.
40. Put It Away (2'40)
41. I'm Alone With You (2'37)
42. Rock It For Me (2'38)
43. I'm In An Awful Mood (2'46)
44. I'm In An Awful Mood (2'45) alternate take
45. Wham (Re Bop Boom Bam) (2'53)
46. Wham (Re Bop Boom Bam) (2'51) alternate take
Side 6
47. Pretty Eyes (2'40)
48. Uptown Blues (2'43)
49. Lunceford Special (2'49)
New York, January 5, 1940.
50. Bugs Parade (2'29)
51. Blues In The Groove (2'33)
52. I Wanna Hear Swing Songs (2'54)
53. It's Time To Jump And Shout (2'53)
Los Angeles, February 28, 1940
54. What's Your Story, Morning Glory? (3'09)
55 & 56. Dinah (Part I/Part II) (4'28)
CBS 54134
Side 7
57. Sonata By L. Van Beethoven ("Pathétique", Op. 13) (3'16)
Chicago, May 9, 1940.
58. I Got It (2'55)
59. Chopin's Prelude No. 7 (2'49)
60. Swingin' On C (2'22)
61. Swingin' On C (2'23) alternate take
62. Let's Try Again (3'03)
63. Monotony In Four Flats (2'53)
New York, June 19, 1940.
64. Barefoot Blues (2'43)
65. Minnie The Moocher Is Dead (2'28)
Side 8
66. I Ain't Gonna Study War No More (2'55)
67. Pavanne (2'48)
New York, July 9, 1940.
68. Whatcha Know, Joe? (2'37)
69. Red Wagon (2'32)
70. You Ain't Nowhere (2'54)
71. Please Say The Word (2'39)
New York, December 23, 1940.
72. Okay For Baby (3:07)
73. Flight Of The Jitterbug (2'28)
74. Blue Afterglow (3'11)

Gerald Wilson: Biography

From the liner notes to Gerald Wilson And His Orchestra: The Chronological Classics: 1946-1954: “Gerald Stanley Wilson was born in Shelby, Mississippi, on September 4, 1918. Both his parents were musicians. He began on piano with some tuition from his mother. Wilson attended school in Memphis before his family moved to Detroit. He went to Cass Technical College and received an extensive musical education. Besides being a gifted trumpet player and an outstanding arranger, Gerald Wilson also plays tenor and alto saxophone. In 1936/37, he worked at the “Plantation Club” in Detroit and also toured with Chic Carter's band. In late 1939, Gerald Wilson replaced Sy Oliver in Jimmie Lunceford's orchestra1 where he remained until early 1942. . . . He then moved to the West Coast, where he worked with Les Hite, Phil Moore and Benny Carter. At that time and over the coming years, Gerald Wilson was also active as a composer and arranger for movie soundtracks. After a spell in the U.S. Navy, he organized his own big band in late 1944, from the beginning featuring young and progressive musicians. Wilson continued to lead his own big band on and off over the next decades but often took time out to compose, arrange and play with other leaders, including Count Basie and Dizzy Gillespie. His reputation among experts grew over the years and his recordings from the early sixties were artistically very successful. In 1963, his band was elected Number 1 by “Down Beat”, resulting in long-overdue recognition from a wider audience. Throughout the sixties and seventies, Wilson also arranged frequently for singers, including Nancy Wilson, Ray Charles and Ella Fitzgerald. In addition, he composed several extended symphonic works, which deserve to be better known. Besides ongoing studio-work, Gerald Wilson still [as of June, 2007] leads his own band in appearances at festivals and on shorter tours to this day.”

No less an eminence than Gunther Schuller will grant pardon if you are less familiar with Wilson than with Ellington; in discussing the conceptual heirs to Duke Ellington's advanced arranging techniques in Cotton Tail, Schuller mentions “such now almost forgotten bands as Gerald Wilson's, Elliot Lawrence's, and Charlie Barnet's mid-1940 orchestras.” (Schuller, The Swing Era 126). So there you go. Wilson, a contemporary of Duke Ellington and Benny Carter, is still alive today and still writing, arranging, and directing bands—you can see him directing bands at regional jazz festivals all over the country on YouTube! Wilson worked as a trumpet player and arranger for Jimmie Lunceford during the 1930's (see Schuller, The Swing Era 218-19) before embarking on a career as an arranger for a variety of artists, playing for the U.S. Navy during World War II, and forming his own band in the mid-1940's. He later formed a Los Angeles-based band in the 1960's and has since written for, performed with, and directed countless groups over the years. In 2006, Wilson directed Wynton Marsalis and the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra in performances of his own material. At present, Gerald Wilson has been actively engaged in the forefront of jazz music for 75 years (excluding his years as a teenager learning to play, which would put him at over 80 years of continuous jazz musicianship). That is a record equaled only by Benny Carter (who had about a dozen year lead on Wilson) and maybe Clark Terry. Note also that Wilson, just like Carter, was one of those rare musicians competent on both brass (trumpet in the case of both men, trombone as well in the case of Carter) and reeds (alto sax in the case of both men, tenor as well in the case of Wilson).

1If you want to hear the section work of the very young Gerald Wilson, I recommend a 4-LP boxed set, Jimmie Lunceford: The Complete Jimmie Lunceford 1939-40. In that set, all of the recordings from Track 31 (Side 4, Track 5) include Gerald Wilson on trumpet. Wilson's first session with Lunceford was New York, August 2, 1939.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Teaching Jazz Literacy Rather Than Rote Charts

It frustrates me to no end to hear high school jazz ensembles play charts that are clearly written in a particular idiom (hint: they all are!) without, in their performance, giving any indication that they understand what that idiom happens to be.  This is an enormous problem, and it is probably inextricably conjoined with the severe deficit (many would say categorical drought) of serious jazz listening among jazz students.

First things first: If you want to speak a language, you must listen to people speaking the language.  Analogously, if you want to play jazz in a literate and facile manner, then you must listen to people playing jazz in a literate and facile manner.  Otherwise, you will remain functionally illiterate no matter how much time you spend reading out of textbooks (or, in the case of jazz, no matter how much time your band director spends drilling measures into your skull, one bar by painstaking one bar, like an endless barrage of rusty nails).

Second things second: If you want to speak a dialect, you must listen to people speaking the language in that dialect.  If an American flew to the United Kingdom and spoke with a Southern California/San Fernando Valley accent, he would be immediately recognized as coming from far afield.  Likewise, if a Briton flew to the United States and referred to a "truck" as a "lorry," he would be immediately recognized as an out-of-towner.  The same goes for the differences between Latin American Spanish and European Spanish, in both pronunciation and inflection.  So it should come as no surprise that if you play Charlie Parker licks over a 1946 Ellington arrangement of a blues head first published in 1917, you would come across as a visitor from another idiom.  Except many band directors--even many of the nation's finest band directors--fail to communicate that point to their students.

The Duke's Men

With Ellington, there are really clear directives on sound.  Duke wrote for his particular men.  Strayhorn wrote for those same particular men.  There are no generic Ellington charts.  With few exceptions, any baritone saxophone part in an Ellington chart should sound like Harry Carney, not like Gerry Mulligan.  Likewise, with few exceptions, any lead alto part in an Ellington chart should sound like Johnny Hodges, not like Charlie Parker.  And those trumpet parts are targeted toward the mute work and lyricism of Cootie Williams, the melodic tone of Ray Nance, the screamingly high acrobatics of Cat Anderson, etc.  The drum parts are not written for Buddy Rich; they are written for Sam Woodyard, Louie Bellson, etc.  These differences matter, not because students should not be able to play like Gerry Mulligan, Charlie Parker, or Buddy Rich... but because there is a time and a place for each particular style.

Similarly, if you are doing a Bill Holman arrangement that Bill wrote for the Kenton band, odds are that many of the Ellington sounds would be a touch too antiquated; for those charts, students should be familiar with the modern sound of late-era big bands like Kenton, Buddy Rich, and the more modern Herman Herds.

Broad Curricula

That is one of the big reasons why your jazz curriculum not only should, but indeed absolutely must contain representative charts from all (or at least most) epochs of jazz.  There should be a Fats Waller tune where students can learn the comedy/jive traditions of Fats, Cab Calloway, and Ray Nance.  There should be a modal tune where students can learn the cooler-than-cool sounds of Miles and Trane.  But each style must be taught specifically.  Students should know each tradition and be able to shift gears when they switch from one chart to another, adjusting with all of the sensitivity that is required when playing across a range of styles.

Flipping The Bird (Charlie Parker, That Is) To A Dixieland Chart

So it enraged me as I was listening to Royal Garden Blues being played by band after band at last year's Essentially Ellington festival and had to tolerate one soloist after another playing bebop figures over one of the earliest Dixieland tunes!  Guys, there is a time and a place, and that wasn't it.  Even where Duke's arrangement dated from the mid-1940s, that was still no excuse for playing like Sonny Stitt instead of like Sidney Bechet.

The same thing happened in a lot of the multitude of Blood Count performances.  No, the alto soloists didn't try to play bop figures over a Hodges ballad (God forbid!).  But they did--in many instances--add literal growls to their tone, as though the curvaceous bends and seductive swells that Hodges played were insufficient, and it was absolutely necessary that the soloist gild the proverbial lily with a raunchy growl.

There are times to growl.  There are times to play bop figures.  Even on certain Ellington charts.  But heaving a kitchen sink full of your technical and tonal repertoire into a solo as if to say "Hey, look at me!  I haven't listened to much Dixieland, but I sure as heck have listened to a lot of Verve records with Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie!" is inappropriate at best and musically illiterate at worst.

What Is The Solution?  Listening broadly to build jazz literacy!

Jazz students need access and regular exposure not only to the recordings of the charts that they themselves are playing, but also to the recordings of the major figures who played in the same style.  A female vocalist looking to sing blues over Black And Tan Fantasy should not be looking to Ella Fitzgerald for inspiration: she should, instead, be directed straight to Bessie Smith, who sang in the sort of dirty, funereal blues that Black And Tan Fantasy so exemplifies; this is true even notwithstanding that Smith only recorded once (in 1930) with the Ellington band.

Twenty or thirty years ago, that would have been a tall order; it was tough enough to build a set of jazz recordings that reflected a program's annual curriculum, let alone adding "other musicians in a similar style" for every one of the tunes.  But the Internet has changed all of that.  Today, a student can go on YouTube, Amazon, iTunes, Google Play, or The Internet Archive and find free or inexpensive recordings of virtually any jazz musician they want to listen to.  They can do this at noontime or at midnight with the same ease of use.  And they can dig as deep into the oeuvre of any given jazz master as they want to dig.

So if you are directing a jazz program and choosing charts, you should, either verbally or (even better) in a written list or notes packet, set forth the secondary and tertiary sources for students to turn to in expanding their knowledge in a particular jazz sub-genre.  Examples could include:

Christopher Columbus (Bob Mintzer arrangement)

Primary source (arrangement): The Bob Mintzer Big Band: Art Of The Big Band

Secondary sources (tune): Fletcher Henderson: A Study In Frustration, The Fletcher Henderson Story (LP); Andy Kirk: The Chronological Classics: 1936-1937; Benny Goodman and His Orchestra: Sing, Sing, Sing; Dizzy Gillespie: Digital At Montreux, 1980 LP; Don Redman: 1933-36; Duke Ellington: The Complete Reprise Studio Recordings CD 1; Fats Waller: The Complete Fats Waller, Vol. III 1935-1936 LP; Maxine Sullivan & Her Jazz All-Stars: A Tribute To Andy Razaf

Tertiary sources (stylistically similar artists): Fats Waller; Fletcher Henderson; Benny Goodman; Cab Calloway; Andy Kirk (and/or Mary Lou Williams)

For most of those tertiary sources, it would be easy enough to then refer your students to the relevant volumes in the David Niven Collection tape series at The Internet Archive (archive.org).  Just use the search engine at archive.org to come up with the tapes for those figures.

You would also note for your students that Christopher Columbus became well-known to many audiences primarily through its interpolation in Sing, Sing, Sing (another Fletcher Henderson chart popularized under Benny Goodman's name).  So enterprising students could then refer to Goodman's 1938 Carnegie Hall concert and hear some very clear examples of the sounds that they should strive for.

What would this avoid?  It would avoid a tenor player standing up during a performance of Mintzer's arrangement of Christopher Columbus and playing bop figures with a straight tone.  It would hopefully teach a tenor player to play with the style of Coleman Hawkins or Ben Webster on a chart like this.  It would teach a pianist to play in the style of Fats Waller rather than something more modern.  And it would teach a drummer to eschew, even if for just this one chart, the style of Buddy Rich in favor of that of Gene Krupa.

"How do I find time for teaching this nebulous 'literacy' concept while also teaching particular charts so that my students can have something to show for their effort at a performance?"

Use each chart as a window onto its idiom and major exponents.  Sure, you are teaching Jeep's Blues, but you are also teaching (1) the Ellington medium blues, (2) the Hodges blues, (3) the Ellington shuffle, (4)  lyrical blues playing, and (5) Ellington sax section blend; you can add on recordings like Hodges playing On The Sunny Side Of The Street to further demonstrate every one of those skills.  Sure, you are teaching Jackson County Jubilee, but why not add on Benny Carter's entire Kansas City Suite as further background, and then introduce students to the late-1930s Basie recordings and the early-1930s Moten (i.e., Basie band progenitor) recordings, which Carter's Kansas City Suite was really a reference and/or tribute to?

"But my students favor rock-oriented stuff!  It's tough enough getting them to listen to serious bebop recordings!"

Bull.  Your students will respond to serious jazz once their ears become acclimated to the sound.  Sure, the first few (or even more than a few) times that they listen to Ellington recordings from the late 1930s and early 1940s, they may think that Cottontail sounds like a soundtrack to a Warner Bros. Looney Tunes cartoon.  And the when they go from listening to the 1963 Great Paris Concert recording of Rockin' In Rhythm to the 1931 original, they may be unable to understand what was is so infectious about the groove of the slower early version.  But more time listening will eventually yield an appreciation for those less-immediately-accessible idioms.  And it will teach your students some delayed gratification, which is always a good thing.

I know this because my first reaction to Cottontail was to think that it was a cartoon soundtrack, and because I loved the 1963 Rockin' In Rhythm but couldn't make sense of the 1931 version.  But appreciation came faster than I thought it would.  Maybe it was chuckling along with Herb Jeffries during Jump For Joy, or maybe it was the unavoidably infectious trumpet solo of Rumpus In Richmond, but at some point while listening to my dad's old copy of Duke's In A Mellotone LP (which re-issued many of the best of Duke's 1940-1942 "golden age" tracks) it finally clicked.  That's what it takes.

It also doesn't hurt to shame your students, where appropriate and in appropriate doses, with their jazz illiteracy.  Not to embarrass them or make them feel like they cannot expand their frame of reference, but to make it clear to them that all they have to do is listen more!  Call out the tenor player who plays with a straight tone over a 1930s chart.  Call out the pianist who fails to add some Ellington dissonances in the intro to a Hodges ballad.  And then, give them the recordings that they should be listening to in order to achieve the sound that fits in a particular style.  You are not telling them that they are incompetent; to the contrary, you are demanding of them the work ethic, studiousness, and competence that you are utterly certain that they indeed do have.

"Isn't it easier to just teach the individual charts?"

Not if you want your students to sound like they know what they are doing.  Sure, you can teach measure-by-measure and figure-by-figure until the life has been drilled out of every chart you work on.  You can teach one set of chord changes on each chart and ask students to model their solos specifically on the solo from the one original recording of that exact arrangement.  But the student who becomes familiar with the sound of each jazz sub-genre will not need to be told the various details implicit in ensemble parts or solo improvisation on one particular chart.  It will take you far less time to teach Uptown Downbeat if your students are already familiar with Sidney Bechet and 1920s/1930s Ellingtonia, far less time to teach I Like The Sunrise if your students are already familiar with Come Sunday (better yet, the entire Black, Brown & Beige symphony!) and Ellington's Sacred Concerts, and far less time to teach Flirtibird if your students are already familiar with Hodges ballads like Blood Count, The Star-Crossed Lovers, Passion Flower, and Prelude To A Kiss.

So, at some point, you need to ask yourself whether what you want for your jazz program is to endlessly re-invent the wheel for every single chart, or to build a level of jazz literacy that will enable you to say "Okay, this is another Hodges ballad" and have everyone in the band know exactly what that means.  It takes years to build that kind of literacy, but the yield for your program and your students will give you results that you could never get by teaching individual charts in isolation.  The best jazz programs in North America teach jazz literacy, not a rote batch of jazz charts.

"How do I do all of the research necessary to cross-reference all of these artists, albums, tunes, styles, sub-genres, etc.?  I'm a band director, not a reference librarian or a record collector!"

Contact me.  That's what I do, and I am glad to do it for you and your jazz program.

Duke Ellington's Uptown Downbeat

I don't have all that much to say about Uptown Downbeat, which is a fairly obscure Ellington tune from the mid-1930s.  It is one of the last echoes of the late-1920s/early-1930s "jungle style" that is most commonly associated with Duke's days at the Cotton Club.  Here are a few other thoughts:

This is an obscure Ellington recording from 1936 that originally bore the name Blackout. It was recorded on one of the earliest dates during which Ben Webster, later to become a regular and the ultimate exponent of the Ellington tenor sound, recorded with Duke. The tune features Barney Bigard featured in a wailing initial clarinet solo. Then a solo by a trumpet (probably Cootie Williams or Rex Stewart, though Arthur Whetsol was still in the band for this session), followed by a Hodges soprano sax solo. Sixteen bars of ensemble figures, an eight-bar restatement of the main theme, and Duke is out of space on the 78 RPM record.

The “jungle style” is still alive in this tune. Keep in mind that Duke was still playing gigs at the Cotton Club as late as 1938, so the rhythm section and both soloists are still grounded in the same sorts of sounds that characterized tunes like Black & Tan Fantasy and The Mooche. The groove is a plodding thud-thud-thud sort of thing, with harsh beats from bass (Hayes Alvis) and guitar (Fred Guy). The drum feel (Sonny Greer) is a shuffle but sounds almost like the beginning inflections of a drum roll from time to time at the end of some of the eight-bar sections.

The whole feel of this tune reminds me a lot of Duke's later Across The Track Blues.

The soprano sax player should listen to a lot of Sidney Bechet to get the appropriate sound here.  Trumpet and clarinet players should listen to a lot of Duke's 1920s and early 1930s recordings.

Here are the relevant David Niven Collection tapes for stylistically similar recordings for these soloists to model their sound (and phrasing) after:

Sidney Bechet:
https://archive.org/details/Sidney_Bechet_Tape_1_1923-1936
https://archive.org/details/Sidney_Bechet_Tape_2_1936-1938
https://archive.org/details/Sidney_Bechet_Tape_3_1939-1940
https://archive.org/details/Sidney_Bechet_Tape_3A_1941-1947
https://archive.org/details/Sidney_Bechet_Tape_4_1947-1950
https://archive.org/details/Sidney_Bechet_Tape_5_1958

Ellington circa 1920s to 1938:
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_1_1924-1927
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_2_1927-1928
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_3_1928
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_4_1928-1929
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_5_1929
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_6_1929-1930
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_7_1930
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_8_1930-1932
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_9_1932
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_10_1933-1934
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_11_1934-1936
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_12_1936-1937
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_13_1937-1938
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_14_1938
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_15_1938
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_16_1938
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_17_1938-1939
https://archive.org/details/Duke_Ellington_Tape_X2_Duke_Ellington_At_The_Cotton_Club_1938