Jeff Barnhart: Well, Hal, you’ve done it again. I’ve been grooving on the selections you chose to share the music and story of Edmond Souchon: banjoist, guitarist, vocalist, story-teller, and raconteur. Souchon’s stage sobriquet “Doc” also revealed his “day job”: He practiced medicine at clinics and hospitals throughout the city of New Orleans and surrounding areas, including Hotel Dieu as chief of staff. You shared sides with me that have a wide variety of terrific sounds and I’m looking forward to exploring them with you!
We’ve already met Doc Souchon during our discussions about Johnny Wiggs, and the many readers who shared positive responses about those columns will celebrate Wiggs’s cameo(s) this month, but now Doc is the star! Hal, can you share a bit about his background and lead us into the first tune you’d like to discuss?
Hal Smith: Jeff, “Doc” Souchon actually got to hear—and meet—King Oliver and Jelly Roll Morton! Can you imagine THAT? Edmond Souchon was born in the Crescent City in 1897. His mother and father both played music at home and his nurse took him to “second line” funeral parades near the family home. He studied at Tulane and began to play on a guitar that was given to him by his grandmother. In the years before WWI, he put together the 6 7/8 String Band with a group of fellow New Orleanians who played guitar, mandolin, fiddle and other string instruments.
The back cover of the album which is the source of our first track shows photos of Doc Souchon labeled, “surgeon,” “musician,” “business man.” As if that were not enough activity, Doc was also an early student of jazz history. Moreover, he was one of the founders of the New Orleans Jazz Club, editor of their Second Line newsletter, host of a radio program on WWL, was a founding member of the National Jazz Foundation and helped to establish the New Orleans Jazz Museum. In addition, he was one of the key organizers of an early New Orleans Jazz Festival (1955) and in the mid-1960s co-authored New Orleans Jazz: A Family Album with writer Al Rose.
With a “Renaissance Man” resumé like that, you might be willing to cut some slack for Souchon as a performer—given all the time-consuming activities that he pursued. But he really gave 100 percent on the guitar and banjo in every band he played in. And his gravel-throated vocals, with a beautiful New Orleans accent, are a delightful addition to any recording where he sang. We can hear Doc’s distinctive voice on a spoken introduction to the first track: “She Keeps It Up All The Time.” Doc’s grandson John Parker still plays and sings this one, as does New Orleans piano man Steve Pistorius. This performance is a real “keeper,” with wonderful playing by Raymond Burke, clarinet; Armand Hug, piano; Sherwood Mangiapane, bass; and of course Doc on guitar and vocal, though I’m not sure who, or what, is making those trombone-like sounds on the vamp! What are your thoughts on this track, Jeff?
JB: Hal, as far as I’m concerned, we don’t need to cut Souchon any slack. To my ears he’s simply marvelous. NOT virtuosic, but so soulful and sincere I’d be hard pressed to find something more authentic or heartfelt. More later about the preponderance of string players who were (and still are) terrific showman and vocalists, but for now let’s get to the music!
“She Keeps It Up All The Time” is a classic cabaret-style novelty tune in slow shuffle tempo. The story Doc Souchon tells leading into the song is striking. He divulges the origins of this song as a 1926 collaboration between singer Willie Jackson and pianist Steve Lewis (who played in bandleader A.J. Piron’s Orchestra) and recorded that year. Souchon avers they performed as a duo in an ice cream parlor “at Old West End in the ‘good old days.’”
The recording starts with a classic four-bar vamp played by Armand Hug on piano, Souchon on guitar and some strange instrument I couldn’t identify either (jug?: It’s definitely something being blown into and can slide notes—any of our readers who can clear up this mystery will be a star). Souchon sings the verse in his gravelly way with his sweet-yet-rough New Orleans accent. His warbling is enhanced by Burke’s low-register clarinet accompaniment during a verse that seems reminiscent in melody and harmony of several other songs. Once they get to the chorus, we’re definitely in “Balling the Jack” territory.
[I define the chord progression of the chorus thus because Chris Smith’s immortal composition introduced a chord sequence subsequently used so often it’s a shame he couldn’t have copyrighted it. In fact, if you look at his tune from 1914 called “Keep It Up! (Keep it up all the time),” it’s a good thing for Jackson and Lewis there was no organized copyright law at the time: The melody are harmonies are virtually identical to the song Souchon sings, although the story and lyrics are brand new—almost like a parody of the original].
Following Souchon’s growling vocal, we’re treated to a piano chorus incorporating licks and ideas from several sources, including novelty piano, barrelhouse, blues, the tremolos of Jess Stacy, the left-hand figures of Bob Zurke, and the trumpet-like phrases of Earl Hines: Hal, this 16-bar solo seems to reference the gamut of classic piano styles up to 1957, and Hug was tremoloing like Jelly Roll during the verse. His solo alone is worth the price of admission for me, but then Burke wails into a hot—yet so relaxed—12-bar clarinet solo that leads to Souchon’s vocal over the final 4 bars. Doc then sings a final eight bars that takes us to a four-bar ensemble tag.
A brief aside if I may: The entire album Minstrel Days (from whence this side originates) is available on YouTube and, among other well-known and obscure tunes, includes a pungent version of George W. Thomas’s “Sweet Baby Doll”—the same number that King Oliver recorded in 1923—that includes the lyrics! Moreover, Souchon performs a solo guitar/vocal version of a VERY old tune called “Buckwheat Cakes,” the ending of which would give triple-tongued Danny Kaye a run for his “chalice in the palace”!!
Souchon’s 6 7/8 String Band of New Orleans features mandolin, slide guitar, rhythm guitar, and string bass. It’s a tour through history to hear this sound! The tunes they play on this side are from 1901 (“High Society”) and even earlier (“Maryland, My Maryland”) and is perhaps the closest we can come to experiencing what the string groups must have sounded like in the ragtime era—indeed, as you indicated, Souchon had founded this group towards the end of the ragtime era!
[We have to keep in mind that before the piano became the main instrument associated with Ragtime, stringed ensembles consisting of mandolins, guitars, and banjos were the instruments performing and recording America’s first indigenous music.]
I was mesmerized by this side and would love to hear your thoughts on it.
HS: First, that’s a great rundown of “She Keeps It Up.” There’s a lot to enjoy on that track and you covered all of it. Doc was a lifelong fan of old New Orleans music. Besides the “Minstrel Days” session, he recorded four compositions by New Orleanian Tony Jackson in 1960. A couple of those songs are almost never played today! The 6 7/8 String Band offers yet another vignette of New Orleans music during the transition between the Ragtime and Jazz Eras. I imagine their performances are the type of music that might have been played at a family picnic at Milneburg in the teens. Bill Kleppinger, Bernie Shields, Red Mackie, and Doc were very skilled string players. Just listen to the single-string interpretation of Alphonse Picou’s famous chorus on “High Society” and the counter-melody on “Maryland, My Maryland.” This is truly some great music from another era.
We have talked extensively about the Wiggs-Burke Big Four in the previous articles, but I want to include their record of “Heebie Jeebies” in this current discussion. Doc is front and center, not only singing in his trademark gravel voice, but playing the same kind of wonderful old-school guitar we heard on the songs in our previous discussion. Johnny Wiggs, Raymond Burke and Sherwood Mangiapane sound fantastic on this one—particularly on the outchorus—and Doc jumps back in on the shouted coda. The record ends much too quickly as far as I’m concerned! What do you hear on this one, Jeff?
JB: Hal, I agree a couple more choruses would’ve been welcome! The ensemble performing “Heebies Jeebies” incorporates identical instrumentation to the Spanier-Bechet Big Four sides from 1940. This recording features great variety in its two-minute length. After Souchon’s surreal vocal (without benefit of modern technology to “clean up” the original recordings, he misinterprets a large number of words in Louis Armstrong’s vocal from 1926) we are treated to Wiggs and Burke weaving around each other on a delightful 18-bar ensemble chorus (sixteen bars with a two-bar tag). Burke solos over the next chorus with a rich tone, leading to a hot muted half-chorus by Wiggs—during which bassist Mangiapane switches to two-beat, slapping mightily—which is picked up for four bars by Burke, and then full ensemble for the final six bars. The classic coda features “Charleston” rhythm alternating with the spoken vocal interchange, in which Burke charmingly plays the final phrase a bar too early. Souchon is playing the role of Armstrong here, Hal, but who asks “Whatcha doin’ with the Heebies?”
I found the next tune by The Milneberg Boys to be reminiscent of “You Brought a New Kind of Love to Me,” although the tone of the lyrics is diametrically opposed. The playing here is exemplary, with an almost impossibly perfect groove provided by the rhythm section of Armand Hug (piano), Chink Martin (bass), Monk Hazel (drums), and Mr. “Doc” himself on guitar. This effortless swing provides a platform for inspired playing by trumpeter Mike Lala, clarinetist Raymond Burke, and trombonist Jack Delaney, the latter taking a remarkably hot-yet-measured solo after Souchon’s gut-bucket vocal (is that even possible in a vocal?). The second half of this chorus once again features Armand Hug treating us to a 16-bar solo that channels 50 years of jazz!!! [Hal, Hug has become my most recent “favorite” pianist…let’s please do a future column on him!].
The final ensemble shows how swinging small-group polyphonic jazz could be in the right lips (and hands) of the right players. Souchon takes the bridge, with a surprise break by trumpeter Lala, who simply plays the melody, but with such a commanding swing I jumped out of my seat. The final eight-bar ensemble is lengthened by a turnaround and we’re out. Hal, I was also impressed by the supreme quality of the sound on this recording. The engineering was something else!! What would you like to share about this side and what’s next?
HS: Jeff, I’m guessing that was Raymond Burke shouting “What’cha doin’ with the Heebies?” Sherwood Mangipane had more of a “crooning” voice and it sounds like Wiggs wouldn’t have had enough time to say that phrase and come back in so quickly on cornet. As you say, maybe one of our readers can identify the second voice!
“You Cooked Your Goose With Me” really is a wonderful side. The band sounds so organized and everyone plays their ensemble parts so well that it sounds like a full-time working band, rather than a recording band! Do you hear a kind of lazy, Teagarden-like phrasing as Souchon sings? I don’t recall that kind of feel in his other vocals. Jack Delaney is certainly an under-rated trombonist. Raymond Burke is his usual iconic self and I really like Mike Lala’s trumpet sound. His playing reminds me of Don Kinch—and that’s a huge compliment in my book!
As you pointed out, the rhythm section is about as fine a group as you could possibly have in this type of music! The way Hug, Souchon, Martin and Hazel work together is unbelievably good. Martin swings, even playing in 2/4 and listen to Monk Hazel ride it out with after-beats on the Chinese cymbal. (I remember cornetist Connie Jones told me how enjoyable it was to watch Monk Hazel play that thing). I really like Souchon’s single-string bridge on the last chorus and what else is there to say about Armand Hug?!? What a magnificent pianist! I respond with an enthusiastic “YES!” to a future column on him and I will include a recording that will probably become one of your favorites by Hug!
Next up: another all-star combination that we have discussed in a previous column: The Lakefront Loungers, with Johnny Wiggs, Paul Crawford, Raymond Burke, Knocky Parker, Souchon, Sherwood Mangiapane, and Paul Barbarin. What a lineup! This side is mainly a feature for Souchon’s vocal, though there is some terrific accompaniment by the horns and the rhythm. Hearing Souchon’s New Orleans working class accent, you would never guess that his writing—letters and articles—read like something from a tenured college professor! I like this side a lot; great vocal and that certainly was a great band! And once again: it was only a recording band, not a working ensemble! That definitely speaks to Doc’s ability to organize top musicians. And the next session is another excellent illustration, don’t you think?
JB: Hal, before I discuss the next sides, I have a question. Did Edward “Doc” Souchon “put on” the working-class accent for the recordings or is that how he also casually spoke? Are there examples of his voice in an informal setting?
HS: All the examples of Doc Souchon’s speech that I have heard sound the same as his introduction to “She Keeps It Up All The Time” and the vocals we have listened to for this article. I don’t think his accent or speech patterns were an affectation!
JB: The tune you refer to as mainly a vocal feature for Doc is an eight-bar blues called “Stack O’ Lee Blues.” The classic story ranks alongside “Frankie and Johnny” and “St. James Infirmary Blues” in terms of foggy authorship; all three present true American folklore in song form. Other than ensembles of one-chorus length at the start and end of the side, the track is devoted to Souchon singing the story across eleven verses (the most complete version I’ve ever heard). It’s fun to listen the first time to the story unfolding as Doc sings in his amazing accent, and then listen again to concentrate on the constantly varying support the band provides him on each chorus.
I really enjoy the groove the next ensemble achieves on a song I’d not heard of, and the title suggests to me there might have been words that would’ve been nice to hear Souchon sing. In March 1964, Souchon put together a band that consisted of some of the musicians featured in this article (Raymond Burke, Armand Hug, Sherwood Mangiapane, Monk Hazel and of course himself) along with imported cornetist Doc Evans and trombonist Emile Christian.
After a spirited ensemble to start “With You Anywhere You Are,” Burke has first honors on soloing and he has a smooth, mellow sound in the low register. Check out Souchon’s nod to Johnny St. Cyr at the end of the bridge on both the clarinet and cornet solos! Evans’s ride is a lovely, muted solo, full of simmering heat. Christian blows some hot trombone and my new hero Armand Hug takes a rollicking romp on the keys. Again, its recorded beautifully, so we hear every note, polyrhythm and surprise bass note Hug plays!!! WHOA!!! THEN the band comes in with two delicious ensembles out, the first percolating and the second simply boiling! The album Doc Meets Doc must’ve had listeners and dancers alike hospitalized for overexcitement! What are some highlights for you here, Hal?
HS: The band with Doc Evans came about through a suggestion by Minnesota jazz writer “Jax” Lucas for Evans to record with musicians selected by Doc Souchon. (The liner notes to the Source To Delta album consist of excerpts from correspondence between Lucas, Evans and Souchon. The latter’s writing is a perfect illustration of his “highbrow” writing vs. the “lowbrow” vocals! I would have expected that the two Docs met when Evans played with Turk Murphy’s band at the 1955 New Orleans Jazz Festival. But based on their correspondence in the album’s liner notes, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
Following the recording session, Doc Evans raved about the hand-picked band to Souchon: “I have never been so pleased with any recordings I have been involved in. I felt that it was a thoroughly compatible group musically and personally. The best jazz must be a team effort, and that is exactly what we had here. I think I never played with so good a band!” Souchon wrote to Evans, “I wanted to write…to tell you how much the whole bunch enjoyed meeting you and playing with you. You might put me at the head of this list…” Souchon was even more complimentary regarding Doc Evans in his correspondence with Jax Lucas. We can certainly hear just how well this group worked together on “With You Where You Are.” On previous recordings we have heard some fantastic rhythm and this track is no exception. Souchon switches to banjo and really drives things along, with the St. Cyr-inspired fills you mentioned. Sherwood Mangiapane plays that old-style syncopated string bass style, Monk Hazel’s drumming is glorious, and I’ve run out of adjectives for Armand Hug’s piano playing!
The front line certainly sounds inspired (who wouldn’t, with that rhythm section behind them?) Raymond Burke plays his usual slightly off-center style and Emile Christian obviously kept up on musical developments that followed his stint with the Original Dixieland Jazz Band. And it is easy to hear why the musicians were so crazy about Doc Evans! By the way, following this session, Docs Evans and Souchon recorded two more LPs (Jazz: Bayou to Bay volumes one and two) and Souchon included Evans in his “New Orleans All-Stars” at the annual “Dixieland at Disneyland” in 1966 and 1967.
JB: Doc Souchon’s music and style of presentation reminds me of a southern Clancy Hayes. Both had an unerring sense of rhythm and pacing when singing one of the old songs, and both kept the melody in the forefront, incorporating minimal embellishment to highlight the original tune. For me the main difference is if someone were to hear a tune featuring a vocal by Souchon and not know his backstory, they might understandably mistake him for a black performer, whereas no-one would make that inference listening to a vocal by Hayes.
Additionally, although I’m unaware of any documentation, Souchon’s delivery seems to have greatly influenced Dave Van Ronk, especially when he performed the jazz and blues tunes of the 1910s-1920s. Finally, all of the musicians I list herein are part of a long tradition of guitar/banjo playing vocalists and entertainers that has to include Ikey Robinson, Danny Barker, Marty Grosz, and John Gill among any others you might wish to add, Hal.
(Standing: Monk Hazel, Emile Christian, Doc Souchon. Seated: Paul “Doc” Evans,
Raymond Burke, Martin “Chink Martin” Abraham, John “Knocky” Parker).
HS: That’s a good list and I can’t think of too many more musicians who could play strings AND sing convincingly at the same time. And regarding Doc Souchon as an influence: several numbers associated with him were recorded by the hugely popular Squirrel Nut Zippers in 2020!
“Doc” was definitely a mover and shaker in the New Orleans Jazz scene and deserves a ton of credit for his activism, writing, historical research, mentoring of younger musicians, organizing great bands—and of course his wonderful playing and singing!
Jeff, there is a musician we have commented on extensively in this article. What do you think about listening to some records by Armand Hug and writing about him for the December article?
JB: Well, that’s what I was hoping you’d suggest! Yes, please, and thank you!
