Jeff Barnhart: Dan, we have the pleasure of discussing the final four sides the Bennie Moten Orchestra recorded on Dec. 13, 1932, in Camden, NJ. Our discussion has thus far been almost as scintillating to me as the music itself, and I’m sure this entry will prove the same. Not only a feast for the ears, the Herculean output of this single-day session is a testimony to the strength of the human spirit, as well as that of the music that feeds it.
Count Basie, in his autobiography Good Morning Blues (as dictated to author Arthur Murray), recounts the scene leading up to that marathon session. In the depths of the Depression, the band had just completed a long, dusty and ultimately frustrating road trip. Moten’s band had incurred debt in a date at Philadelphia’s Pearl Theater, was losing its bus, and arrived starving at the session. Only after the twelve (!) masterfully played (and recorded) tunes were completed did they sit down to a meal provided by a local promoter; the repast consisted of rabbit stew and greens and was served on a pool table! With the exhaustion and hardship they’d endured, its remarkable anything came out of this date, let alone one of the most swinging and significant recording sessions in jazz history. The power of hot music, my friend!
We start with a tune that was already a warhorse by 1932, “Milenberg Joys.”
Dan Barrett: Hello, jazz fans and those who are lucky enough to hang around with them!
When I was a freshman in high school, I spent many nights listening to the South Frisco Jazz Band at the Pizza Palace in Huntington Beach, California. One evening, bandleader Vince Saunders announced “Milenberg Joys,” by the New Orleans pianist/bandleader/composer Jelly Roll Morton. I flipped over the catchy tune and the loose way the SFJB performed it. I admit those high school memories give me a sentimental fondness for the song: I love to hear it when it’s performed well, and I love to play it (with the right cats)!
Dyed-in-the-wool jazz fans—and most musicians of all stripes—understand that without Morton, the music we call “New Orleans Jazz”—and indeed jazz itself—wouldn’t sound the same. Morton’s monumental influence can be heard throughout the history of jazz: from his own recordings, to early “covers” (that is, other bands around the country, like Moten’s, performing and recording other musicians’ tunes, in our case, Morton), and on to Benny Goodman’s hit record of Morton’s “King Porter Stomp.” In short, Morton was a heavy dude. (You dig?)
JB: Yes! The New Orleans Rhythm Kings recorded “Milenberg Joys” (WITH Morton) in 1923, so by now the tune was already nine years old!
DB: So, the question is, what does this Kansas City band, the Bennie Moten Orchestra—as great as it may be—do with it that sets its recording apart?
(The above video contains the first two titles discussed)
The many answers start right off the bat! After Mr. Basie sets the table with a brief, rhythmic introduction, trumpeter Hot Lips Page starts right in soloing, surprisingly at the chorus! (This is one of the few versions with which I’m familiar that doesn’t begin with the snappy, rising arpeggios leading into the verse.)
Page’s straight mute gives his horn a pungent, biting quality. The saxes play a simple, on-the-beat background. This simplicity contrasts wonderfully with what comes next.
The sax section plays a “soli” chorus. It’s a deft piece of writing, and is brilliantly executed by the virtuoso saxes.
Next, all the horns play the verse, followed—finally—by that rising-arpeggio lick I’d mentioned. I’ll bet Maestro Barnhart has things to say about Basie’s work here…
JB: Basie is the fulcrum of everything that goes on at all times!! From his surprise intro to his beautiful fills in between phrases (especially on the verse) to his punching accents, I didn’t notice the fact that he never solos until I forensically dissected the roadmap; he’s just SO present throughout!
DB: After the exciting verse, a four-bar interlude played by low unison saxes and Walter Page’s bass sets up the next chorus. It too is terrific: Page indulges in some hot, rhythmic “slap” bass (an old New Orleans device of which bassists like Steve Brown, Wellman Braud, and later Milt Hinton—and today’s Sam Rocha and Steve Pikal—were—and are—masters). Page takes control of the rhythm section, musically saying “Let’s GO!” He shifts the band into high gear. The guys were swinging before, but now there’s a new kind of “heat to the beat!”
The next chorus finds tenor saxophonist Ben Webster soloing in four-bar exchanges with the brass section, while Barefield’s brittle, hot clarinet rides over the top. Finally, Webster gets the final say, finishing the chorus in fine style.
We’re now at the 2:15 mark, so the guys have to wrap it up to stay around the three-minute recording limit of the times.
Clarinetist Barefield keeps the momentum going, soloing over the horns, who are really “in the groove,” bringing life and swing to their shouting figures. Barefield’s sound and approach here reminds me of another unsung hero of early jazz, the little-known but great Ed Inge, who played similarly-hot stuff as a member of Don Redman’s reed section. (I think this all may have started once Duke Ellington’s early records began to pop up around the country. Duke’s clarinetist Barney Bigard could often be heard wailing over the band. It’s a very exciting device that has all but become extinct. Too bad.)
The last half of this final chorus begins with all of the horns playing eight bars in unison. This is a smart and surprising choice made by arranger Durham that grabs your attention, and provides some needed contrast to all the dense harmony used throughout the recording. The strong, bluesy phrase embodies the essence of Kansas City jazz.
Let’s hear what Jeff has to say about Basie’s comparatively simple rhythm playing at this point…
JB: Throughout the final choruses, Basie plays simply, bass notes in the left hand on the strong beats (1 and 3), chords in the right hand (the weak 2nd and 4th beats), yet his accenting and his passing chords create constant movement even in the most static of harmonic sections. In lesser hands, the simple accompaniment would lend a two-beat “boom-chick” feel, but Basie could swing anything in any style!
DB: After that unison passage, the ensuing harmony comes as another surprise; contrasts like this make for great arranging. The side ends with another unison phrase, again based in the blues. In fact, as I listened to the harmonized passages throughout this side, I noticed arranger Durham liberally sprinkled his writing with “blue” chords and harmonies. (For the musicians: he’s often written dominant-type seventh chords at points of resolution, where one would expect to hear just a triad, or perhaps an added sixth). These choices add to the overall “blues” feeling of the performance. To me, it’s elements like this that separate Kansas City jazz (and what the cats in the southwest were doing) apart from the many other big bands evolving around the country.
Note that bassist Page, who made such a strong contribution to the swing and overall “feel” of this side, plays the closing unison phrase along with the horns! This too was unusual for the time, and shows just how technically advanced Page was for that era.
The very last chord is a “thirteenth,” which includes that blue, dominant-seventh interval I’d mentioned. It’s a “modern” chord, but still has a finality about it. It serves to bring yet another classic Moten side to a hip, KC conclusion.
JB: It would have been great if the band had recorded more compositions by Jelly Roll (maybe a “Moten does Morton” project)!
One quick aside before we examine the next tune, Dan. Two sides from this 1932 recording date were released in Spanish! Victor 78 #32212 had “The Blue Room” (as “Curatito de Dichas”) and Milenberg Joys (as “Estrambotico”) as played by “Don Benjamin Y Su Orquesta de Jazz Puro!” Moten’s music got around!!
It’s interesting to me how many “covers” the gents recorded on that day, but our next tune, “Lafayette” was co-composed by Basie and Eddie Durham. Dan, what stands out to you here?
DB: Thanks for the news (to me) about the Spanish issue of those two sides. Very interesting. I think I’ll start using “Don Benjamin” as my new pseudonym.
JB: Hmmmm…I like “Don Daniel” better.
DB: Regarding “Lafayette,” the first recording I heard of this intriguing number was by a small band led by Hot Lips Page in 1940. I didn’t learn about the original recording by Moten until a few years later. I sure am glad to know about it now!
Once again, we must tip our fedoras to the great Eddie Durham, composer and arranger of this piece. Just listen to all the various elements he’s managed to pull together, and in such swinging fashion.
The side opens with Basie playing a few of those ringing chimes chords he used so effectively on “Moten’s (sic) Swing.” Then, Walter Page grabs us by our lapels as he sets a solid, swinging beat. The band vamps for a few bars and Ben Webster comes in, swinging from the ground up. Note the rhythmic backgrounds played by the other horns. They remind me that a good jazz band might feature horns playing with a rhythm section. A GREAT jazz band is one big rhythm section!
After Webster’s passionate two choruses, his bandmate Lips Page comes in, using a plunger for two intense choruses of his own.
[Nobody could growl like Lips, but as far as today’s players go, my buddy Jon-Erik Kellso is pretty wicked with the plunger mute.]
Lips generates a lot of heat with short, repeated staccato phrases, including a couple of bars that make me think of Ellington’s record of “It Don’t Mean A Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing). I think those licks by Lips are just a coincidence, but then again, the Ellington title came out ten months before “Lafayette.”
Lips ends with a little “wow,” and the spotlight turns toward Bill Basie. Surprise! We’re now in a major key! Like Webster and Page, Basie too is all about the beat, and his stride playing shows lessons well learned from his mentor, Fats Waller. Let’s see what Jeff has to say about this great solo:
JB: It’s great that you mention Waller, Dan as this tune starts out as a rearrangement of Waller’s “Minor Drag,” recorded in 1929. Webster and Lips solo over the minor section and then Basie swings in on the major section, using Waller’s rhythmic hits. After his 16 bars, an original, 8-bar bridge is added, with Basie mightily striding out for the final eight bars of the chorus.
DB: The band’s terrific sax section plays the bridge as a soli. Durham again shows great musical intelligence by not over-writing here. He gives the section a logical passage to play, writing figures he knew they could execute accurately at this rather ferocious tempo.
[Sidebar for student arrangers: no one is going to be impressed by your tremendous arranging gifts if the guys in the band can’t play what you write! Keep your writing within the logical ranges of the instruments, and make sure your passages are not too challenging for a decent pro player. The band—and the audience—will appreciate you a lot more.]
Jeff, as you say, Basie returns to finish out the chorus. His off-beat solo here foreshadows the brass soli that follows. The trumpets and trombones are playing into metal hats, often called “derby” mutes, for that’s exactly what they resemble.
[Back in the day, all the brass sections had these metal derbies, held upright next to the player’s music stand on a spindly metal tripod, with a spring-release hoop to hold the hat. This made it easy for the player to lean over and play a passage into the hat, then simply lean back for the “normal” (open) horn sound. The hat could also be easily removed from the hoop, and held in the player’s hand for those good ol’ “doo-wah” effects. (You can see and hear the Glenn Miller band’s brass section using its hats in this manner in the film, Sun Valley Serenade; or maybe it’s Orchestra Wives. I always get them mixed up.)]
In fact, the brass does exactly this on “Lafayette.” Listen to the difference in the sound between the passage they play just after the piano solo, and the shouting passage played immediately after Eddie Barefield’s clarinet solo at the bridge. First they’re in their hats, and after the clarinet solo, they “open up.”
I also like the “conversational fills,” played by the saxes between the brass phrases, during this chorus. It’s an urgent little chat they’re having.
Now we’re back to the minor key. I think the wailing clarinet soloist might be Jack Washington, making a rare appearance on that instrument; at any rate, the tone and approach sound different to me. Dig the very incisive brass, playing stabbing, rhythmic punctuation behind Washington (if it’s him…)
The clarinetist leaves his solo a few bars prematurely. (Could one call this a “premature evacuation?” Ahem). This actually reinforces my opinion that the soloist is indeed Jack Washington: he had to end his solo early to switch from the clarinet back to baritone sax. Such is the mundane life of a sideman.
The next chorus gets us into some textbook Swing Era writing: the famous “call and response” effect, between the brass (calling) and the saxes (responding). This simple idea was part and parcel for thousands of big band arrangements, and was used so wonderfully by composer/arranger Fletcher Henderson. But it would seem that Eddie Durham was on the ground floor with this concept too, just as he was years ahead of his time with many other jazz arranging concepts.
After the brass riffs through an extended “break” (four bars long instead of the expected two bars), they end the chorus, leading into some beautiful drumming by the sensational, and little-known Willie McWashington. (I know our friend and fellow TST contributor Hal Smith would have some insights about McWashington. You’re not a drummer Jeff, but since you’re a rhythm section player, I’m interested in what you think of Mr. McWashington’s work throughout this session? Any other comments?
JB: This is McWashington’s only solo for this date, Dan. He’s using some great swing devices that either Hal or Kevin Dorn could name during it. What’s awesome is his brush work during the first part of this tune. Two things I’d like to point out; after the clarinet verse, the band abandons “Minor Drag” to go into “Tiger Rag” changes! And, how forward looking to end the entire side on a drum solo, punctuated by ensemble hits!
DB: The horns provide moral support with their “Charleston”-rhythm accents, and the guys end the side with an air of finality.
I can’t say for certain, but something makes me think they probably took a well-deserved break after finishing this one.
JB: Well, NO break for US, my friend, although who needs one when you’re hearing such amazing music! Let’s make an unusual move and skip over the penultimate tune the group recorded so we can finish with it. That means we’re listening to a smaller version of the band (HL Page, trumpet; Barefield, clarinet; Basie; Durham, guitar; W. Page, bass; McWashington, drums) on “Two Times,” featuring a vocal by Josephine Garrison.
The sextet has little to do after the eight-bar introduction to the song, but what a sound they have: loose and swinging with Basie playing full piano! This eleven-second intro foreshadows the sound Fats Waller and His Rhythm would achieve three years later!! Ms. Garrison is a capable singer but one wishes to hear Jimmy Rushing here. The tune itself, composed by Ben Samberg (whose big hit was 1946’s bawdy “Shaving Cream”) is sprightly and I listened closely to what the band was doing behind the vocal phrases over two choruses (including some lovely single-string guitar work by Eddie Durham). We then get a nice half chorus with the sextet (dig Hot Lips’ growling!), back to vocal, and a four-bar outro from the band. Dan, we have precious little space remaining, but do you have any comments about this side before you lead us into our final (and climactic) tune?
DB: I’ll just say, I like the tune and the performance. The band is swinging (no surprise with these cats), and Ms. Garrison sings in tune, with a nice beat. She must have been highly regarded: It’s unusual for a “band singer” of this era to get two full choruses right off the bat! I think your other sage comments about this disc allow us to move on to the final selection for this series on Bennie Moten’s December 1932 session. That title is “Prince Of Wails,” and it’s a doozy!
Pianist Elmer Schoebel was an important early jazz composer; he’s probably worthy of his own TST article. His multi-part composition “Prince Of Wails” (as in a jazzman “wailing,” ’natch) is an interesting piece, and was recorded by many bands soon after it first appeared on record in 1924. The Wolverines, Fletcher Henderson, and even Bud Freeman (in 1940) all “covered” this popular instrumental. With much due respect to all of those artists and others, my favorite version is the one Jeff and I are discussing here, by Moten’s band.
First of all, this is the fastest version of any that I have heard. After a brief introduction, Mr. Basie struts his stuff, with minimal contributions by the horns. Note how the rest of the rhythm section drops out periodically to allow Basie to be more clearly heard. (Your band can do this too, if your pianist can keep time by him/herself.)
Basie carries the heat into the second strain, while trombonist Dan Minor plays that strain’s legato melody over the saxes.
Next up is the band’s tenor sax star Ben Webster, somehow managing to play rhapsodically at this tempo. Basie then goes for a second helping. He returns to the first theme, but this time his solo is an improvised variation; so swinging, and hot, and rhythmic! Yes!
Hot Lips Page treats us to another great muted solo. During his second chorus, the saxes play a riff that sounds surprisingly like pianist Fulton McGrath’s tune, “Mood Hollywood,” recorded three months later by the Dorsey Brothers. Coincidence? Probably…
While Lips yanks the mute out of his bell (this usually takes several seconds), the remaining horns come in shouting, as Eddie Barefield’s clarinet and Basie keeping the momentum going with their exciting fills. Basie ends this chorus with a descending two-hand lick on loan to him from Fats Waller. Now, I KNOW Jeff has a few things to say here!
JB: Dan, where do I begin? Right from the start, Basie owns this side! In fact, the lower-priced subsidiary label of RCA Victor—Bluebird Records (started in 1932)—while misspelling the title (“Prince of Wales”), labeled this side as “Bennie Moten and his Kansas City Orch. Featuring William Basie at the piano” (B-6851-A). “Prince of Wails” was the A side, with “Two Times” on side B. I’m betting which side wore out first!
Basie romps throughout, showing that he had no superiors in the hot stride piano style. The figures he uses on his first two choruses are text-book stride “licks” favored by James P. Johnson and Thomas “Fats” Waller, and not just for the right hand; the second A chorus features the “walking bass” James P. often utilized. The second strain finds Basie playing the pattern with which Waller began his final chorus of “Handful of Keys,” but “Prince of Wails” is in Db!! Stride pianists will tell you that favored keys utilize the black notes on the piano (they fit the hand much better than playing in C or G).
And YES, Webster simply floats lyrically above all of the chaos; in jazz, Louis Armstrong pioneered this style, influenced in part by the recordings of Enrico Caruso he hungrily absorbed while developing his operatic way of phrasing.
Back to Basie: when he returns to the first strain, he’s using a descending figure found in Waller’s virtuosic pieces “Wildcat Blues” (key of C) and “Valentine Stomp” (key of D) before returning to what he’d played earlier on the repeat of “A.”
Dan, the sax riff that reminds you of “Mood Hollywood” also sounds like the main theme of Duke Ellington’s “Cotton Club Stomp” (the second one from 1930–sometimes called “No.” or “Part” 2) to my ears. It’s also a favorite pattern for stride pianists so Durham might’ve been channeling Basie here. And, yes, Basie grabs Waller’s two-handed downward run!!
[To hear a current pianist beautifully execute the intricacies of this difficult style, check out my dear friend Stephanie Trick!]
DB: I knew you’d have a lot of good stuff to tell us about Basie’s playing on this side! Thanks for those insights, Jeff.
So, we’ve just heard the first of three band choruses out. Now, Lips joins in for the final two rousing choruses. You’ll hear how the band sounds a little “bigger” and “fuller” with the addition of his trumpet. I like how composer/arranger Durham has the brass section play the same three-note riff in both this chorus and the following chorus. (Repetition like this can get a band into a “groove.” We like that, don’t we? Yes, we do.)
The brass riff doesn’t get monotonous, though, because Durham has given the saxes different figures to play the second time. By this point, the band has achieved that relentless intensity that they found in the final choruses of “Toby,” recorded earlier in this session. The “Prince Of Wails” is an express train, and it ain’t makin’ any stops! Also, don’t miss Basie really “going to town” here, creating a lot of excitement. His fills between the horn phrases are thrilling, and the “I’m going for it!” attitude he brings to his ensemble playing is a master class in how to inspire a band to swing.
Finally, there’s Basie’s fantastic solo work at the very end of this side. Before I ask Jeff for his thoughts, I want to thank Andy Senior and Joe Bebco for giving Jeff and me this opportunity; Jeff and I have very much enjoyed sharing our enthusiasm for these terrific historic jazz recordings with you. Now, Jeff, please take us home!
JB: Dan, I will with a challenge to all of our readers (unless you know the answer). At the very end of the extended coda with arpeggios galore, Basie quotes some classical piano cadenza from somewhere! He didn’t make up that counterpoint between hands. It starts at 2:36 on the record and whoever comes up with the answer (except you, Dan…oh all right, even if YOU come up with it), your next year’s subscription is on me!
Mr. Barrett, thank you for joining me!! May I call upon you in the future to join in on another listening adventure?
DB: I wish I could win that subscription, but I don’t know the answer! This ignorance is simply more evidence of my misspent youth…
Moving on to less embarrassing matters, I’ll close by saying it was a pleasure to chew the Kansas City hamfat with you (as it were), and to discuss these important recordings. Of course, it would be my pleasure to join you again, anytime.
Happy listening, everyone!
