While perusing the recent Syncopated Times article “Art of the Duet” (TST, August 2024) about jazz duet albums recorded over the years, some reader is bound to ask “Hey, but what about ________? That article featured well known musicians primarily, but this one features one of those “Hey, but what about” players that fell through the cracks, generally unknown yet very worthy of praise. He appeared on two outstanding duet albums among the few that he played on throughout his career. He was cornetist Jim Goodwin.
Goodwin was a natural who couldn’t read music. While he was a swinging, self-taught pianist as a second instrument, his first-rate cornet playing dripped emotive heat and passion. Drummer Jeff Hamilton, who played with him in the band Sunset Music Company, swore that Jim Goodwin on one occasion had played the single hottest note that he had ever heard. Although his technique wasn’t dazzling, his sense of swing phrasing was massive. His creative ideas were enhanced by shakes, growls, mutes, half-valve bent notes and expressive tone, usually not a typical “pretty” trumpet sound but more of a declarative shout. With a huge repertoire and personal approach, the closest known player to compare him to would be Henry “Red” Allen.
Virtually all musicians that heard him admired him, but his inability to read music kept him out of many groups, yet for over a decade he found steady work most of the time in the San Francisco Bay area with short forays to Europe. He was not a self-promoter, nor did he have a manager. Playing music was his life, his calling, and money was only a necessity, not a goal. He lived with friends (of whom he had many) and when necessary, slept in his car. Part of the reason he had so many friends was that he always quickly repaid his debts, but the main reason was that he was simply a likeable, not self-centered guy. As a musician he was gifted, as a person he was great.
Taking a Chance (Rhythm Master RM 101)
Probably Jim Goodwin’s best friend in the Bay area was pianist Ray Skjelbred (Shell-bread), the first call traditional jazz player in the region who shared many a bandstand and musical tastes with the cornetist. Because their playing fit together like hand in glove in wasn’t surprising that they should appear on a duet LP. Recorded in Seattle during 1987 and 1988, their friend and like-minded clarinetist Ham Carson (Pee Wee Russell-like) was added on four of the twelve selections.
While the whole album is very fulfilling, the duo highlight to this writer is a rambunctious mid-tempo “Keep Smiling at Trouble,” while the greatest surprise is the trio version, slowish, of the of the traditional standard “Copenhagen,” usually a stomper but here replete with moving bluesy soulfulness. Other tunes included “Home,” “Every Minute of The Hour,” Joe Sullivan’s “My Little Pride And Joy,” and the early Benny Goodman-Bud Freeman “After Awhile.” This may have been Rhythm Master Records’ only release, so unfortunately currently it’s hard to find, but well worth it if you do.
Skjelbred, incidentally, fared much better that Goodwin in getting recorded, having appeared on several band albums from swing to Turk Murphy traditional, accompanist to singers and personalized solo blues, hot ballads and ragtime. He did two duo albums accompanied by traditional jazz music’s finest drummer Hal Smith, who also did the same with the great stomping pianist Butch Thompson, but that’s the subject for some other article. Although not really a strider, Skjelbred is a solid two-fisted pianist incorporating bits of Joe Sullivan, Earl Hines, and lots of the lesser-known Johnny Wittwer in his own playing.
Double Play (Arbors Records Jazz- ARCD 19118)
A few years later, 1993 to be exact, Jim Goodwin appeared on a duet album with the much better-known Dave Frishberg. Like Ray Skjelbred, Frishberg was an eclectic pianist employing many jazz idioms, but unlike Skjelbred, who is a traditionalist looking forward appreciatively to contemporary styles, Frishberg was a modernist looking back appreciatively to traditionalist styles. Although a personal, less rhythmically solid version of stride appears, much of the time a more modern chordal approach with left hand in tandem with the right dominates. Yet with all selections looking back to the 1920s and ’30s and especially Jim Goodwin’s playing, this CD is a winner for everyone.
At the time of this recording, Dave Frishberg was a well-known composer and performer of his own songs, such as “I’m Hip,” “Peel Me A Grape,” and “Sweet Kentucky Ham” among others. He was thought of as a modern pianist, having appeared in concert with modernists Jack Sheldon and Art Pepper, yet when he heard Jim Goodwin, he booked the cornetist for his concert tours. From that came this album. One ability that Dave Frishberg shared with Ray Skjelbred, despite stylistic differences, is the ability to listen to and accompany a soloist like Jim Goodwin in a complimentary way.
Once again, on an album full of highlights, it’s hard to pick favorites, but the joyful “There Ain’t No Sweet Man Worth The Salt Of My Tears” from the Bix Beiderbecke playbook, and the moving, heartfelt “There’s A Cabin In The Pines” come out slightly ahead. Other performances salute composers Jelly Roll Morton (“Winin’ Boy”), Cole Porter (“Rosalie”), Duke Ellington (“Shout ’Em Aunt Tillie”) and Irving Berlin (“Russian Lullaby”).
Throughout both albums Jim Goodwin comes off as an uncrowned champion. Among the few other albums that he appeared on were three with The Sunset Music Company, a spattering of selections on a Dutch label with George Probert’s Happy Riff Machine, and one album with banjoist Dick Oxtot’s Golden Age Jazz Band on the folk label Arhoolie. The one that was closest to Goodwin’s heart was a collection of private recordings released by bassist Mike Duffy on his Berkeley Rhythm label called Jim Goodwin and Friends featuring hot, improvised band jams.
Despite his perennial youthful appearance, Goodwin developed dental and other health problems that forced him to give up the cornet and pursue piano work in and around Portland, Oregon, which is where he grew up. He did marry, but as no details are known, this is all that’s included about that here.
Jim Goodwin passed away at age 65 on April 19, 2009. Dave Frishberg is gone too. Fortunately, after having moved to Chicago and forming his band called the Cubs (Chicago? Cubs? Hmmm) baseball fan Ray Skjelbred is still with us as of this writing at age 84.
