The Story of Blues Over Bodega, Part Two

JB: Faithful readers, this month my fellow musical forensicist and I will be continuing our exploration of a nine-track LP released by Fantasy Records in 1964 called Blues Over Bodega that featured members of both the Yerba Buena and Turk Murphy Jazz Bands along with guests trombonist Bob Mielke and vocalist Barbara Dane. The project was musically directed by trumpeter Lu Watters, who held court with his mighty lead on these selections. Hal, last month we left off with a hot rag composed by Lu in 1949 that featured pianist Wally Rose. What’s next?

HS: The next track is “Some Of These Days,” including the rare verse. The late Gene Mayl told me that his Dixieland Rhythm Kings once drove all the way from Ohio to El Cerrito, California to hear the Watters band at Hambone Kelly’s. Lu invited them to sit in, and when they had assembled onstage he announced, “‘Some Of These Days,’ in G, on the verse” and gave two stomps with his foot. Welcome to the big leagues!

  You can get a sense of how Gene and his sidemen must have felt as this side starts. Lu is in charge as he soon as he plays the pickup notes! That is a power-packed first ensemble, followed by a knocked-out clarinet solo by Helm, a take-no-prisoners trumpet solo by Lu (with a few bars of stoptime), Mielke in great form, an ensemble verse, a rollicking solo by Wally with energetic banjo strumming by Ballou and a surprisingly low-key vocal chorus by Barbara Dane. There are two more vocal choruses that build in intensity (and listen how she varies the phrasing!). The accompaniment varies behind the vocal choruses until everyone comes roaring back in for a double ending. Perfect tempo, marvelous dynamics, outstanding playing and singing—what a great track!

I would also like to say how much I love Bob Short’s tuba playing—especially behind Helm’s solo! That light, bouncy feel, and his wonderful fills with dotted-quarter and eighth notes and smooth arpeggios, fits this rhythm section like a glove.

“Some Of These Days” also reminds me of why I was so taken by Thad Vandon’s drumming the first time I heard him with Turk Murphy. On this side, as with Turk, his timekeeping was impeccable, and he played in an understated way. But listen to how he could heat things up with well-played turnarounds between choruses and solid afterbeats on the snare drum while riding the cymbal on the last chorus.

“Blues Over Bodega” is the first track on side two of the LP. It begins with a long, unaccompanied solo by Lu. Bob Helm told me that Lu used to warm up each night by himself—playing the verse to “When Day Is Done” before the first set at Hambone Kelly’s. Hearing this first chorus, it’s not difficult to picture how that may have sounded. And we can definitely hear how much Lu was influenced by Louis Armstrong! I think this is one of the high points of the album.

Following that beautiful trumpet introduction, the band enters with a rocking, stomping feel. Barbara Dane sings two sets of lyrics. Though she was good at writing topical lyrics, lines such as “P.G.&E. — Somethin’s Shakin’ Me” have the kind of sly humor that Bob Helm put into his lyrics. Helm accompanies the first vocal, then Lu takes over. And I mean he TAKES OVER! Helm’s solo is characteristically “outside.” The next vocal has backup by Mielke, then the full ensemble plays a chorus. Lu’s trumpet playing reminds me of Louis, from the Hot Seven recordings. Barbara Dane sings one more great vocal with front line backing. There is a sudden break, then Thad Vandon’s well-timed fill brings everyone back in for the ending.

JB: It’s hard to believe it’s the same trumpet player playing on both “Some of These Days” and “Blues Over Bodega.” It illustrates what a versatile and thoughtful musician Lu Watters was. On the first tune I can hear a tone and phrases that must have inspired Leon Oakley! I love everybody’s playing, but Mielke is the star for me; his brash tone mixes with sophisticated lip-trills and an incredible smearing line at the half-point to show a mujsician in complete control of his instrument. It’s a joy as well to hear the verse. Hal, I hope one day we can devote an edition to the tune “Some of These Days” and the great interpretations of this 1910 vehicle over the ages: there are scores of them by musicians and ensembles we both love! I also find Barbara Dane’s quiet, sultry entrance after Wally Rose’s exhilarating barrelhouse pounding to be very effective, especially as she grows in intensity through her two additional vocal choruses. Sure, she rewrites the lyrics, but the theme remains intact, and BOY can she SHOUT!

Yes, I can definitely hear Louis Armstrong’s influence on Watters during his unaccompanied first chorus on “Blues Over Bodega” (a cleverly-titled tune, with a double-edged meaning). Some of Watters’ playing sounds reminiscent of “Skid-Dat-De-Dat” to me and the effect, while not as operatically dramatic, is akin to Armstrong’s virtuosic unaccompanied 8-bar intro to “West End Blues.” The lyrics are clever, yet heartfelt. One of the effective qualities of a blues at this tempo and in this style is that the vocal phrases are short enough to allow equal time for accompanists to engage in a connective “call and response” dialogue with the singer, and Barbara Dane, Helm, Watters, and Mielke make the most of this possibility!

“Willie The Weeper” is up next, with the band romping through a verse and chorus before giving way to solos by Helm (lovely chalumeau register on his first chorus), Watters on the verse (referencing Armstrong’s solo from the Hot Seven version), Wally Rose stomping hard (with that ever fluid left hand of his), an ensemble verse that leads us to Mielke’s sliding, torrid solo, back to Watters for a solo chorus, band all back in for two ensembles, a stomping double ending and out! I have to say I miss the final choke cymbal Dart would have laid on us on the fourth beat at the end, but Thad Vandon wasn’t that kind of player. He swings the aggregation along nicely, though.

HS: I think you said almost everything there is to say about “Willie The Weeper.” The only thing I would add is a question: Is it possible that another banjo player sat in on that track? It really doesn’t sound much like Monte Ballou to me. He played more than just straight time, but I don’t ever remember hearing him play anything like those triplet figures. Banjoist Dave Weirbach was around the Bay Area during this time and played briefly with the Murphy Band. He is the banjoist on one of the Bodega Bay benefits at Earthquake McGoon’s which was recorded and released on Ted Shafer’s Merry Makers label. I recall similar busy strumming by Dave on those performances…

“Pork and Beans” features Wally Rose with the rhythm section. Most recordings of this song are performed in an uptempo Harlem Stride style, based on composer Luckey Roberts’ concept. But I always liked Wally’s version of it because it sounds like a rag. Bob Short is back on string bass for this one. Wally told me that Short was his favorite tubist because “He watched my left hand.” He sure sounds good alongside Wally, regardless of the instrument he was playing. Ballou’s banjo strumming reminds me of Harry Mordecai’s with the Yerba Buena Jazz Band. Monte was an old friend of Lu’s, dating back to the 1930s, so Lu must have been happy to include him on this session—especially since Harry Mordecai had retired about 14 years prior. And, as on “The Villain,” Thad Vandon’s tasteful brush work is spot-on.

JB: Hal, I’ll interject here for a moment: You’ve given me a great reason for a set-up that’s always confuzzled me. So many times I’d see Wally Rose—or other pianists from the day (I’m thinking as well of some of the Pete Daily videos online)— playing with their backs to the band! I’ve never understood this as desirable. In fact, at festivals if the piano is set up that way, I always turn it around as long as there’s enough room and time. Interacting with the band or knowing what’s coming up is impossible unless you can see them. But your comment about Bob Short watching Wally Rose’s left hand finally makes it clear. That’s a dynamic that would only apply to classic jazz however…could you imagine a bass player watching Bill Evans’ left hand? How many notes would they actually play? LOL!).

—We now return you to your regularly scheduled Smithian analysis and please pardon the interruption—

HS: Wally also told me how much he enjoyed playing with the great Mike Walbridge because Mike watched Wally’s left hand as well.

Jesse Fuller’s “San Francisco Bay Blues” is still popular with traditional jazz bands and singers. In most of the versions I have heard (and/or played on), it seems like the musicians and the singers are having a race to the end of the song. But that certainly isn’t the case on THIS record! As far as I’m concerned, Lu’s tempo is PERFECT. After a stomping ensemble introduction, Barbara Dane sings the first chorus. Helm and Mielke accompany, but my attention is drawn to Wally’s wonderful fills on piano. Lu plays a pickup and the full ensemble returns for another swaggering chorus, with eight bars of Helm soloing. (No disrespect is meant to Thad Vandon, but I find myself playing “air choke cymbal” every time I hear this particular chorus).

Then, Barbara Dane sings what could be called a patter strain before the final vocal chorus. Lu, on muted trumpet, plays accompaniment for most of it—using some very characteristic phrases. The full band returns for an eight-bar tag with Ms. Dane singing over the ensemble, holding the last note almost all the way through the double ending. I just love this one, for the tempo, the BIG ensemble sound, the “Lu-isms” on the trumpet and that fantastic honky-tonk piano accompaniment by Wally. Jeff, do you agree?

JB: Yeah, everything you said resonates with me, my friend (especially “air choke cymbal,” a phrase that had me rolling on the floor…“air guitar players” beware: there’s a NEW fantasy in town and soon you’ll ALL be doing it)!

Regarding “Pork and Beans,” Wally’s is a lovely rendition of a usually muscular, almost violent, piano show piece. As assayed by Rose it sounds (Scott) Joplinesque in the intro and first section. I only wish he’d played a bit freer on the repeat, but that’s a minor quibble. The gorgeous descending bass line and inner lines in the right hand during the second strain sound almost melancholic at this tempo. And the trio borders on wistful, with Rose having the time to emphasize (and the listener having the time to hear) the gorgeous inner voice in the right hand. He only offers the D section once, but the minor ninths sound as plaintive as does this entire side. These “Pork and Beans” are being slow-cooked, and they’re tastier for it…Henceforth, I’m changing the way I play it!!

“San Francisco Bay Blues” is, as you indicated, at a slower-than-usual tempo, which puts the blues into the tune. Interesting that I hear drummer Thad Vandon try to rush into the ensemble chorus following Barbara Dane’s first vocal, but the rest of the band is unmovable! They’re just waiting for the choke cymbal that I was also missing (cue the “air choke cymbal” devotees, of which—if all were right with the world—there’d be hundreds of thousands)! One rarely hears Watters playing muted and it’s too bad we don’t hear it more often. His playing becomes, if possible, even hotter!

And THEN, this almost rock-and-roll-like opening to Lu Watters’ composition, “Emperor Norton’s Hunch!!.”…WHAT happened there??? It’s fanTASTic! The intro is in F minor, with ten(!?!) bars of the rhythm section playing hot and steady time (Vandon offering a few “outside” modern hits on the drums), Helm and Mielke holding long tones, and Watters blowing over the whole thing as if Louis Armstrong were somehow playing with Jimi Hendrix! OMG and Yowza!! How I wish Watters himself had had a “hunch” to experiment more this way. He could’ve rebooted what he was doing for a new generation and become the PRE Postmodern Jukebox of his OWN stuff! (The mind truly boggles.)

The first theme sounds almost tame after that electrifying intro, but the ensembles are sprightly. As a surprise, Wally’s Rose piano solo is two choruses on the first Fm theme and he sounds inspired! Great lines in the right hand and steady, pulsing left hand. This solo is like nothing I’ve ever heard from him. (Well, I guess I DID hear it 43 years ago when I bought the LP, but I didn’t have much to compare it to at the time). Lu plays hot during his two-chorus solo on the same section, and then, after an interlude, HELM plays the 16-bar section traditionally taken by the pianist. He is (as are we) savoring every moment, while Rose seems to be reveling in being freed from the ragtimey theme by playing some very intricate figures, especially on Helm’s second chorus.

Helm seems a bit surprised by the abrupt entrance of the trio section (or maybe he was simply recovering from his amazing solo for a couple of beats), but recovers quickly and the roaring ensemble leads to Mielke’s trombone solo which doesn’t reduce the heat in any way. Helm is back in for a solo on the trio strain, bending and slurring in his trademark way. The horn “shout” interlude brings us to the final chorus, with everyone playing as if the future of the world depended on what they were doing (and perhaps it was…P.G. and E. be damned!!!!). Hal, what I really enjoy is how spontaneous and free Lu Watters is on this final chorus. He plays around with his own melody, truly reinterpreting his composition as simply a hot tune rather than a set piece, and again, I wish there were more examples of him “cutting loose!”

It’s also a text-book lesson for how to approach the classic West Coast Hot Jazz repertoire and sound in a fresh way, from the very musicians that created it!!

HS: Lu also recorded “Emperor Norton’s Hunch” for Norman Granz in 1950. I think that version was the genesis for what we hear on Blues Over Bodega (minus the “jungle drums”!). Lu refashioned the song from a medium tempo strut to an uptempo stomp. As you indicated, everyone in the band played wide-open, without inhibitions on this track. It is a fitting close to a world-class album of hot jazz!

Ever since hearing this album for the first time, I hoped that unissued material or even alternate takes from the recording session might turn up. However, when I asked Bob Helm about that, he assured me that such material did not exist. In an interview, Lu mentioned something along the lines of “That girl kept wanting to do more takes,” but if any were made, they must have wound up being erased.

The idea of unissued material was what inspired me to record Back to Bodegafor Stomp Off almost 30 years after the original album. Fortunately, Bob Helm, Bob Mielke, Wally Rose and Barbara Dane were still playing (and singing) in top form, so they all appear on the CD. Chris Tyle played Lu’s part. Carl Lunsford was an excellent choice to represent Monte Ballou and Mike Walbridge played some of his very best Bob Short-inspired licks. The drumming was based on “what if Bill Dart had been available to play on the original recording”?

JB:  I’ve got to find that recording you describe and listen to it! One final question you might be able to answer, but I’ll get there with a short personal history. I began playing traditional jazz festivals in 1993, and recall that every time I heard any band play “Emperor Norton’s Hunch,” the audience would leap up and shout at the end of the fanfare into the final chorus, in a response similar to howling during the break in “Yellow Dog Blues” or calling out “Oh, Play That Thing” on the final break of “Dippermouth Blues.”  Do you have any idea what started that audience response to “Hunch?”  Sure, it was perpetuated by Revivalist bands (notably the old High Sierra outfit), but what gives?

HS: The audience at the Pizza Palace in Huntington Beach also cheered for the South Frisco Jazz Band after the fanfare on “Emperor Norton.” And earlier, Turk Murphy’s Columbia record of “King Chanticleer” had cheering dubbed in when the band played the rousing trio strain. (I remember THAT happening with the South Frisco too)! I never figured out why anyone would yell during the breaks on “Yellow Dog Blues” but I can see how an audience might get carried away by hearing a powerful, San Francisco style band tearing into “Emperor Norton” and “King Chanticleer.”

Let’s choose to interpret the cheer after the fanfare on “Emperor Norton as the same kind of inspired cheer that you hear from baseball fans at the end of “The Star Spangled Banner” when the announcer shouts “Play Ball”!

JB: Ha! You hit a triple with that one!! My final question? What can we possibly follow this installment with?

HS: How about moving to the other side of the U.S., to talk about an excellent band that made its debut just a few years after Blues Over Bodega was recorded? I’m talking about the Black Eagle Jazz Band! Our friend Stan Vincent—longtime Black Eagles trombonist—asked us to consider writing something about this great band and this seems like a good time to do just that!

I was in California when the Black Eagles started up, but you got to hear them in person in the Northeast. Since the Eagles were such a great influence on you, I think it would be appropriate for you and Stan to discuss the origins of the band, the places they played and some of the fantastic recordings they made over the years. What do you think, Jeff?

JB:  I think that’s a great idea, Hal!  You shared with me that you (happily) have quite a lot on your plate next month, so sorry you won’t be able to join us, but we’ll get back together for more listening adventures later this year!