My festival reports start with apologies for what I didn’t see. This time, I trust readers will let me to atone in private. The Jazz Bash by the Bay celebrated its 45th anniversary at the Portola Hotel and Conference Center in Monterey, California. The music began on Thursday night and came to a stop Sunday afternoon. I counted 154 sets, usually eight venues at once, half on the hour, half thirty minutes later, so an eager audience could see many performances. And the crowded halls showed that people did.
I managed to video-record fourteen sets, and I brought home eight more, thanks to JAZZ LIVES’ Chief of Staff Mark Voitenko, who goes where I can’t. I delight in the lovely surprises he captured.
The Bash is a gracious festival: many viewers return regularly to see their musical friends. I chatted with people I know only from festivals, and many of my musical heroes were playing, so there were actual conversations, a luxury. Eddie Erickson, the peerless singer, guitarist, banjoist, and vaudevillian, came out of retirement this weekend, and I was thrilled to have a few minutes with him.
There were many working bands: Dawn Lambeth and the Daybreakers, the Chicago Cellar Boys, the Carl Sonny Leyland Trio, Dave Stuckey and the Hot House Gang, the El Dorado Jazz Band, Le Jazz Hot, and the Greystone Monarchs. First, some delightful ad hoc combinations.
The unfortunately-titled “Young Bucks of the Clarinet,” featuring Dave Bennett, Jacob Zimmerman, and Paul Cosentino, with Natalie Scharf on tenor saxophone, and Chris Dawson, piano; Dexter Williams, bass; Gareth Price, drums, was calm and friendly. Scharf’s (When Your Lover Has Gone) and Zimmerman’s (You Can Depend on Me) were rewarding, as was an easy Shine. Scharf’s floating lyricism makes her someone to watch.
Small isn’t tiny, as proven by a gratifying duet set by Chris Calabrese, piano, and Hal Smith, drums. It was called “From Morton to McKenna,” but those were only imagined landmarks. The duo glided from ragtime classics to evocations of Bix, Fats, and Louis, all with joyous witty energy. “Friends with Pleasure” paired two married couples: Paolo Alderighi and Stephanie Trick, each with their own (well-tuned) piano, and Marc Caparone and Dawn Lambeth, for a sweetly varied hour of solo, duet, trio, and quartet performances. Leisurely explorations included a Gershwin medley of (The Man I Love) and (Liza) by Marc and Paolo; a tender (Can’t We Be Friends?) by Stephanie and Dawn, and an exquisite (Skylark) by Dawn and Paolo. No one missed bass or drums.
Sometimes when festival organizers put together groupings of musicians new to each other, the words “hope and pray” are silent but tangible. And the repertoire can plummet into over-familiarity because Sweet Georgia Brown is safe terrain. But neither of these two things happened on “Danny Tobias and his Chosen Four,” which featured Danny, trumpet and Eb alto horn, Andy Schumm, clarinet; Paul Asaro, piano; Dan Anderson, bass; Hal Smith.
The quintet ambled and soared through (Happy Feet), a groovy (Shim-Me-Sha-Wabble), a feature for Asaro and Smith on James P. Johnson’s (Riffs), recalling the memorable Decca duets James P. recorded with Eddie Dougherty. The set closed with two bows to Louis Armstrong, appropriately: a surging nearly nine-minute (No One Else But You), and one reverent chorus of (Sleepy Time Down South). I wanted to stand up and put my hand over my heart, and I know I was not alone.
The working bands were ones I follow and admire, but their presentations had dramatic, even explosive moments.
The El Dorado Jazz Band, Hal Smith’s high-octane evocation of 1960s Southern California classic jazz, was enthralling, with a standout front line of T. J. Muller, cornet and vocal; Andy Schumm, clarinet; Brandon Au, trombone and vocal, backed by Hal on washboard, festival co-organizer Jeff Barnhart, piano and vocal; Bill Dendle, banjo, and either Mikiya Matsuda, bass, or Dan Anderson, tuba. Their fervor is remarkable, as is the depth of their repertoire: (Far Away Blues), (You Always Hurt the One You Love, Early Hours), and (When Erastus Plays His Old Kazoo), alongside more familiar songs associated with Bunk Johnson, Leadbelly, and Nat King Cole.
The Greystone Monarchs, Josh Duffee’s well-maintained hot dance band, was once again precise and lively. I missed their Bix-Goldkette set, but enjoyed another with pop classics (The Varsity Drag) side by side with (Don’t Wake Me Up, Let Me Dream). Scharf, Zimmerman, Muller, and Justin Au, trumpet, shone, as did the leader. I only heard part of a set by Paul Mehling’s Le Jazz Hot, his streamlined Gypsy-jazz quartet, but was moved by an appropriately sentimental (Roses of Picardy).
Carl Sonny Leyland never fails to rock the room. Paired with Marty Eggers, bass, and the inimitable Josh Collazo, drums, he turned a bright-morning formal room into a Kansas City nightclub in a matter of minutes. He sang his vengeful (Rat Catcher’s Blues), took us to (The House of Blue Lights), made (If I Had You) groovy, and turned Collazo loose for a riotous (Avalon).
Cheerfully exuberant Dave Stuckey, guitar and vocal, led stellar bands featuring Dan Barrett, trombone; Marc Caparone, Nate Ketner, reeds; Chris Dawson, Mikiya Matsuda, Josh Collazo or Riley Baker, with ample space for eloquent solos, as Dave sang Cindy Walker’s (It’s All Your Fault), Thirties songs recorded by Billie Holiday, Red Allen, Putney Dandridge, Bob Howard, and Wingy Manone. No one else is offering us (I Don’t Want to Make History (I Just Want to Make Love), and for that alone, Dave deserves plaudits.
The Chicago Cellar Boys have a fiercely loyal following, and they have earned it. This year’s version had Gavin Price, banjo, who never missed a turn, with the familiar heroes: Andy Schumm, cornet, clarinet, tenor saxophone, repertoire, arrangements; John Otto, clarinet, alto saxophone; Natalie Scharf; Paul Asaro, and Dan Anderson. A CCB set is both exhilarating and educational: Andy knows and has arranged or transcribed Twenties and Thirties compositions that would otherwise be only entries in discographies, and the band plays them with spirit and accuracy. Even when the resulting performance is less than three minutes long, a force of nature has made itself at home onstage. Because of the built-in reed section, clarinet trios and evocations of the Apex Club Orchestra are a singular pleasure. And the CCB can become a 1926 dance band or the Henderson orchestra with no more effort than choosing number 826 as their next offering.
The most consistent pleasures came from Dawn Lambeth and her Daybreakers (a band name coined by Danny Tobias). I’ve been a devoted fan for more than two decades, and at last year’s Bash she sang with great style, backed by a remarkable quintet of Tobias, Zimmerman, Dawson, Matsuda, and Collazo. This year saw the addition of the nonpareil guitarist, singer, and whistler John S. Reynolds. The group occupied the fertile space between 1936 Teddy Wilson and 1955 Bethlehem Records, precious coordinates.
I went to all seven sets, and she sang marvelously: touching ballads (I Get Ideas), (The Very Thought of You), (I’ll String Along With You), and (When Did You Leave Heaven?), (Dream); Thirties swingers, (A Shine on Your Shoes), (Let Yourself Go), (I Hear Music), (Bob White), and of course (It Happened in Monterrey), the extra R notwithstanding. Dawn has made a new CD, called I Get Ideas, with most of the 2024 Monterey band, which should be available when you read this.
The Daybreakers were a splendid band on their own. Riley Baker, playing trombone, sat in for a set, and brought a marvelous Kansas City Six feeling to (Way Down Yonder in New Orleans). Other instrumental features were (Lady Be Good), with Dan Barrett, John Otto, guesting for Zimmerman, also singing (You Took Advantage of Me), and the rocking rhythm section cheering everyone with (Rosetta) and (Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen). Reynolds brought his impish magic to each set with (Pardon Me, Pretty Baby), (Out of Nowhere), (The Old Man of the Mountain), and more.
During Monterey, I moved from room to room, from set to set, in a hurry to get a good seat so that I could get the best video. I fueled myself with packaged sandwiches and plastic cups of ice water. It was worth it, because the Bash was somewhere between the best dream and a party full of the most generously creative friends. Joyous, magical. Mark your calendars for the 2026 Bash, March 6-8
Michael Steinman has been published in many jazz periodicals, has written the liner notes for dozens of CDs, and was the New York correspondent for The Mississippi Rag. Since 1982, Michael has been Professor of English at Nassau Community College in Garden City, New York. This story was originally published on Michael Steinman’s excellent blog Jazz Lives (jazzlives.wordpress.com), and is reprinted here with Michael’s permission. Write to Michael at swingyoucats@gmail.com. May your happiness increase!
