This was my first playing visit here
and it's really a pleasure. Of course I was married to
Pearl Bailey here in 1952.
This tour is a very unusual one, in
that we have all these stars on one show. But the beautiful part of this is that we all get along. There
are no little outside frustrations with one another, which sometimes happens on these tours.
Everybody is like one happy family, and we're really enjoying every minute of it, offstage as much as
on. And the audiences, especially, here have been just tremendous-very receptive.
I've worked before with everyone.
Except T-Bone Walker, although I'm familiar with his work. But he's on as an extra added
attraction, actually. Yes, I like this kind of set-up. I'm one of those
musicians who likes to get into a variety of
things.
I like the big band, then I like to
play with a small band that has special arrangements.
Then this-strictly impromptu jazz,
which is what Norman Granz really strives for on his concerts. With that kind of personnel it always
comes off, because they're such great musicians.
Drumming has always been a natural
thing to me, my father being a musician who played every instrument and had a music store Even
when I was two years old, I had a certain amount of rhythm. My mother told me that I was
always tapping on something. By the time I was three and a half I was really able to communicate
with my father as to what kind of instrument I wanted.
He wanted me to play a percussive
instrument, but one with a melodic voice in it, so he thought
maybe the xylophone would be good for
me. I had the xylophone for six months, but I was very unhappy with it.
When my father gave me the drum, we
made a pact between us that I would not only study
drums, but I would learn composition
theory, harmony and so forth. Even at that age, I sort of
rebelled against it-but it didn't take
me long after that to realise the importance of learning music along with the drumming. It's helped
considerably.
I know of a lot of great drummers today
who don't have that, and they're no less great. But I don't like to stop at that. If I have my own
band, I've always wanted to rehearse it myself. To be able to read a score and say: "Third
trombone-you're wrong on the second bar after letter B." I feel that, when you become a leader, you must have
all this in order to gain the respect of your men. To me, Duke Ellington represents a great
leader, because he not only knows how to handle men, but he knows who's playing the bad notes
when he rehearses an arrangement.
Those two years with the Ellington band
were actually the highlight of my career, I think. Not only was it one of the greatest bands
he has ever had-and he admitted to this-plus all the other musicians in that particular band, but
the music that we played, the travelling we did, was all very memorable. Just being with the
Duke alone was an experience-talking to him on and off the bandstand, watching the way he worked.
Did I change my playing for the band?
Well, as a matter of fact, I didn't have to do anything, but just sit down and play.
It was just a question of adding my
sound to the band-swinging you know. And then I heard a lot of people say afterwards: "Well
you changed the entire tonality of the band." I think this is very true-a drummer can make the band sound
a certain way. But with the Ellington band, it was so easy to play, because every person in
it plays great and in tempo. They don't even need a rhythm section-it's just added for a different
colour.
One thing I will say, though-I did bear
down a little more than with any other band. Because you have to really get into it with that
band. There were spots where you had to be ferocious to get that effect. This I enjoyed very much,
because I think it's important for a drummer to be able to reach those spots where you really get
dynamic, then come right down and play something very delicate. This is the great thing about
that band-we were able to do all these things. So much music.
It was the need for more variety in
sound that brought about my using the two bass drums. I used to have the conventional set-up, and do
a lot of varied rhythms between the right foot on the bass drum and the left foot on the hi-hat.
And I used to wonder, even when I was a youngster, how it would be to have another big sound with
that left foot pedal But I didn't want to lose sight of the hi-hat completely, because this is a
very essential part of the drum set. So then I thought of the idea of having the other bass drum, and
just having the hi-hat pedal next to it.
And, of course, I went through all
kinds of phases of different set-ups, and now, after years of experience, I have the most compact
set-up. It's proven itself very good. Duke especially liked the two bass drums. In fact, I think
he's made it a requisite that every drummer that comes into his band has to play them!-My basic
idea did work-to develop something rhythmically with the band. Also, when you play solos, you're
less limited, because you have a lot more sound. Quite a few drummers, here and in the States,
have adopted it.
No, I didn't have to work on the
technique that much. I'd always wanted to do it, and I'm very ambidextrous - I can use the left foot
equally as well as the right. And the same way with my hands. So it just meant getting the set
made, because I already knew in my mind the way I would play it. In using it with bands,
I've cut out certain little things to-make it more play able.
I do believe that everything in
drumming stems from the snare. Buddy Rich and I have the reputation of being the two drummers
with the technique, as far as solo work is concerned.
We're noted primarily as band
drummers-which is great I like to think-and I'm sure Buddy feels the same
way-of a lot of musicians saying:
"I enjoy working with Lou or
Buddy, because they propel a lot of drive." I would like to have this
comment first, then the solo comment next, and Buddy agrees. Although we're
both technicians to a certain degree. We both play quite a bit of our work on
the snare drums. I have various arrangements in my big band at home where I
feature only the tom-toms. But, basically, most of the time we use the snare
drum as the focal point of the drum solo-that's very true.
As I mentioned in the clinic that I did
here I had a snare drum for seven years before I even had a chance to look at
a bass drum. So I had to learn quite a bit on that snare drum-not only the 26
rudiments, but steps beyond that. Fine technical things. This pays off, too.
Most of the drummers today are inclined to start playing, and after two days
they get an entire set. Then they want to get at everything too fast, instead
of learning one instrument at a time. Because each part of the set is an
individual instrument.
(Louie with Bob Yaeger at the Pro Drum Shop in Los Angeles)
Dizzy Gillespie was telling me the
other day that he heard one of the greatest bass drummers in his life. He was
talking about a guy who is an artist, just using a mallet against the bass
drum. He had any kind of sound that you
wanted out of that bass drum-just his particular blend with the concert hand
was fabulous He'd perfected that.
When people like Duke, Dizzy and Teddy
Wilson compliment me by saying that my drumming approach is one of the most
musical, I feel like all the work that I've done so far hasn't been wasted.
Primarily, I feel that, if I can play in back of artists of the calibre of
the ones on this JATP tour, and make them sound good-then; even if I close
the show with the most exciting drum solo, I would have to say that my sheer
delight was to be able to play for all these great performers and to be able
to supply them with the proper backing Normally, I don't use one of those big
Chinese crash cymbals-but Dizzy likes this. And I have one, so I put it on
the set because I know he wants that kind of sound in back of accentuate in
and out of the beat with the left hand.
This is very important. Knowing all
these little things, I adapt my playing for each individual artist-instead of
me just sitting back there and playing for myself. Which I would do on a
solo-that's the time for me to express my own ideas and convey my ù message
to the audience.
It's funny, because I was talking to
Eric Delaney and Kenny Clare about this the other day, and they agreed Kenny
said: "That's great-to have enough facility to be able to do that, and
yet turn around and play an inspired solo". And that is the way it
should be. It's the same as a pitcher in baseball. He has to know certain
pitches to give each ball player.
On the question of tuning-with drums,
we all know that we can't get a definite tonality. Of the membrane group in
the percussion field, the timpani is really the only instrument where you can
get an exact note. If you want a low E natural or a low F or a G, then you
can get this on the timpani. We can only as sume relative pitch with a set of
drums. So I like to tune the set like a choir. I refer to the snare drum as
the soprano, the small tom-tom as the alto, the large tom-tom as the tenor
and, of course, the bass drum (or drums) as our bass. This way you have a
complete choir-like sound within the drum set, if they're tuned properly.
Regarding the dual-purpose bass drum
beater which I mentioned at the clinic: before we invented it, we had either
a hard felt, a lambs-wool, or a wooden beater. The wooden beater is very
popular today; because it seems to get the staccato sound that most drummers
use. I think Joe Morello uses one. So do I; also Buddy Rich and Gene Krupa;
maybe eighty per cent now are using it. This, new one we have is half wood
and half felt, and it doesn't require taking the entire beater out of the
initial pedal case.
All you have to do-there's a little
spring effect below the beater, and you just press down on the beater itself
and dial what you want wood or hard felt. Then, when you push this back up,
it stays in place. So it's a very nifty little idea. It's great for studio
drummers, because often an arranger won't want that staccato, wood
sound-he'll want more of a muffled, felt sound. This way you have both sounds
to call upon.
Among the recent albums I've made, one
that I particuarly enjoyed was a Lalo Schifrin session for Roulette, called
"Explorations". Lalo is just a tremendous writer. This was a very
avant garde type of album-done with all strings, and me as the initial
percussionist. I had to play a varied amount of things, like timpani,
boo-bams, bass marimba. Actually, we went through most of the percussion
instruments. It was an al bum that showed off talent, not as an extended drum
soloist, which I've done before but another side of my ability. That is, to
be able to read and play these other effects, along with the violins,
'cellos, violas and so forth.
One of the rhythms I played on there
was 15/ 8. Which brings up an amusing story. Now, Dizzy Gillespie is really a
frustrated drummer. And, I may add, a very good one He plays the tambourine
very well and he gets a very rhythmical sound out of the drums. He learned
this rhythm from Lalo, you see.
Then he decided to play tricks on all
the famous drummers, like Max Roach and Art Blakey. In fact, he tried those
two first-and they couldn't play it. Because when you see this at first, it
takes a little while to analyse, study the sticking, and hear the rhythm
before you can do it.
So, when I saw Lalo, prior to seeing
Dizzy, he tipped me off and said: "Why don't you let me teach you this
rhythm now? You have to learn it, anyway, for the album. And it'll be nice to
turn the tables on Dizzy. Because, if you run into him, he's going to try to
do this same trick on you". So he showed me the rhythm. And it happened
in Chicago, when I was there with the Ellington band After the concert, Dizzy
decided that we would retreat back to my drum set, because he wanted to hear
me play something. But, of course, what he really wanted was to execute this
rhythm for me, and then try to spring it on me and stop me.
When I sat down
and played it perfectly right after him, he just completely fell out!
Before
concluding, I must speak of the recordings I made here with Eric Delaney, which
worked out very good. One of them is going to be a little bit of a commercial
album, in a way but it's been done very musically. It's based on themes like
"St. Louis Blues
March". They've also included "Skin Deep", which I did with
the Ellington band. We've been able to play little touches of authentic
marches, then going into swing. It features a lot of interplay between Eric
Delaney mostly on timpani, and myself on drums. And we've managed to get some
pretty good sounds on record over at EMI-it's a very nice studio there. It's
been kinda rough fitting it in with my schedule, but the collaboration has
been very enjoyable.
I've really been enjoying making an
album here. London is one of my favourite places-I was married here, of
course in 1952. The people here are marvellous; I just have such a great
time when I come over.
It was very exciting, using all British
musicians. I was so pleased with the performance of these wonderful players;
I think we're going to have a great album, We had ace players-such as Stan
Roderick; Greg Bowen, Don Lusher-in every department. They were just
magnificent, and I feel very honoured to have been able to work with them.
We used five trumpets, four trombones,
five reeds, four rhythm, plus extra percussion. And the interesting thing
about this date: on two of the tracks we added a full choir of twelve voices.
We laid down the instrumental part; then the voices came in, and dubbed over
that. So it should be good to have the voices along with the band.
I had a hand in most of the writing.
Recently I struck up a very good friendship with Jack Hayes, who is one of
the great writers in the Hollywood area; he does a lot of composition and
arranging for Quincy Jones, Elmer Bernstein; Henry Mancini.
We write compositions and arrange
together. We've done the entire showcase for this album, save for a nine
minute score: on "Limehouse Blues", which was written by Derek Cox.
And another very good British arranger, Jack Seymour, made arrange ments of
two of my themes. He arranged one of the vocal arts with the band part, and
also a swing piece that we call "Big Ben Really Has Swinging Time".
I felt that I wanted to represent the writing of one or two of the London
musicians as well.
Certainly it's an album that I can look
upon as a contribution that has musical merit; I would say it's every bit as
good s anything I've done in the States. The studio and the engineer we had
were fantastic also.
All the music was specially composed
around the idea of "Louie In London". So we took "Carnaby Street"
for one; that is sort of a drum solo vehicle for me, but there's a lot of
band in it, too. It starts out in a slow four, doubles up the time, and then
we go into 3/ 4; then a mixture of other time signatures. The "Lon don
Suite" itself is in; three movements. That starts out in 7/ 4, the
middle part is with brass choir and voices, and the third section is in a
Rock vein. Other titles are "The Proud Thames", "Sketches From
The National Art Gallery." It's everything pertaining to London; so
there's really a significance for doing the album. I feel very happy about
it, because everything was done and performed honestly-I like to do things
that way.
In the States I'm a part-time studio
musician, I have my own big band going, and I do a lot of recitals and what
you call demonstrations. You know, they get all the drummers and other
musicians together and we give lectures on music and percussion. So it keeps
me pretty busy, doing all these things. I'm based in Hollywood, but I also do
a lot of travelling around.
I have nineteen men in the band. We
work quite often; we play in a little place called Donte's in North Hollywood
at least once a week. Then we have various other jobs during the week.
Which means the big band plays two or
three times a week, and as a result it sounds very good.
As a matter of fact, I think we're
going to have the good fortune to come over here next year with Tony Bennett:
This will give us the opportunity of playing one or two nights at Ronnie
Scott's, and maybe we'll do an album here. It should be very interesting.
Among the key men in the band are Don
Menza and an other tenorman, Peter Christlieb, who is phenomenal-he's only 24
years old, but he's already a giant. In the trombones are Jimmy Cleveland and
Frank Rosolino. Harry "Sweets" Edison's been working with us on
trumpet; Al Aarons, who just left the Basie band-he's on trumpet; also Chuck
Findley, who was with Buddy Rich's band-22 years old, and plays great. Ray
Brown works with us quite a lot in California; whether we can get him to
leave the country or not, I don't know, as he's very busy but maybe he will.
Then we have an excellent guitarist by the name of Joe Pass. Our lead alto is
Joe Romano. In every department we have really fine musicians. And the band
as an ensemble-is just beautiful.
I do some of the writing, but I really
don't have enough time to do too much. We have three or four arrangers within
the band, who write very well. Then I have some great people like Bill
Holman, Marty Paich, Oliver Nelson, contributing scores for us. We're
continually adding new material, thinking up new ideas and so forth.
The objective we have is to play not
only Swing music, but to get into the contemporary thing, too, because we
feel it's an important area there. We have one or two arrangers who rite the
contemporary pieces excellently-hard rock or easy rock, you know. We're also
still playing some very delicate ballad-type things. Then we go on to the
hard swinging sounds.
Actually, we've tried to develop a
good-sounding band that will be suitable for any kind of audience. And we've
found that our audience ranges from tiny tots clear up to the old people-with
all of them enjoying everything we play.
Having a lot of young musicians, we can
keep in touch with everything that's happening on today's music scene. So
naturally we're into a lot of the very modern styles in jazz. We like to stay
abreast of the times, figure out the good things, and add those to our
repertoire.
Using rock rhythms with jazz is
entirely valid. The last two years, especially, have seen a lot of the rock
drummers playing much better. They're not resorting to the basic things they
were doing before. They're more sound-conscious, more equipment-conscious.
Recording techniques are getting better and thus more critical; the competition
is greater. With the re sult that the drummers are learning their craft on
the instrument a little more, and getting into some wonderfully complex
rhythm patterns. I think the intensity we're hearing from these young people
is tremendous.
You can't help but have it infiltrate;
it's already in a lot of bands right now. You can still keep the swing going,
but you can integrate this other sound in with it. As we're now doing on some
pieces. To refer back to the "London Suite": after the delicate
middle part, the last part can be termed a continuance-showing the way it is.
Which is a combination of semi-Latin rock and Swing-and it comes off great.
As for working with Basie and, of
course, the great Tony Bennett-that's been very enjoyable, too. Tony wanted
me to come over; I had to get out of a few engagements to make the trip, but
I was happy that I was able to do so.
That Basie band is an institution; it's
like Ellington's band. There's a certain feel with a personnel that's been
together for years, that you don't get with any other band. The solidity is
there, the feeling, and it's marvellous to play with bands like that. We used
to call 'em the road bands. Well, they still are, of course.
And Tony-I'd put him in a class with
Sinatra-who, as we all know, is such a marvellous entertainer and such a
marvellous man. There are really no adjectives left to improve on what has
already been said about him. And the same goes for Tony Bennett-he has that
great magnetism; when he hits the stage, you know that there's a performer.
The way he sings his ballads and his swing numbers-it's just class
personified.
Besides being such a great singer, Tony
is a really beautiful person, and he's much-loved by musicians: It's been a
real treat working with him. My band has the opportunity of doing three or
four important jobs a year with him, and we look forward to it. He loves the
big band sound, and it's great for us-as it is for Basie, Ellington, Buddy
Rich, Woody Herman, whose bands he also works with a lot. It helps to keep us
all going.
Anyway, for various reasons, this has
turned out to be just about my most memorable playing visit so far. All the
concerts went well and the press was very kind to us, the clinic I did for
the IDA came off great, and then the record sessions were so wonderful.
I also had a chance to listen. to some
other musicians. In particular, Roy Budd - who is a very talented young
pianist. I got to know him quite well. In fact, we played together a couple
of times. I'd like to hear some of the things he's writing; he's doing a
picture now, I understand, for the first time.
Another pleasure was spending a day
with Kenny Clare, who is a very close friend. He's one of your greatest
drummers-certainly a giant. I went to a session he was doing, and also
watched him work with Tony on the BBC show-the one that the Queen attended.
He played just great, Then Kenny was up in the control booth on one of the
evenings we were recording, and I got a little nervous watching him up there.
I kept saying "How is it, Kenny?" and he kept giving me the okay
sign.
Without a doubt, there are new ideas
coming into drumming that we must accept, because they've been proven to be
valid. A lot of our younger people now are realising that we can change
certain things-or add on to what we already have.
What I think is so great about our
youth today is that they want to have love and peace. Once you have that;
everything else falls in line; then with music as well, what more can you
have? It's marvellous to see them having that much care for one
another-really more today than we had years ago-and it's something that the
whole world will have to develop.
It's like a band-all of us must have a
love affair, so to speak. Because we're all playing together; that intensity
must go out from the bandstand to the audience. My wife, Pearl Bailey, used
to say a wonderful thing at the end of her show: "I've been playing a
game of tennis with you. Not the physical kind-that's a little too hard for
me. But I bounce my ball of love out to you and you bounce it back."
It's a game with no winner; you both win. It's just that once you get that
tremendous applause, it means that you've scored your point in this game of
love: That's very important.
So, as I say, music can be so
beautiful. I work on movie soundtracks, TV jingles, and all that; it's very
valuable to have my own band also. Like Buddy - he worked with the Harry
James band for a long time. I was doing the same thing; I worked with Basie,
Duke and other bands. When you get your own band, after so many years, you
can manoeuvre it just any way you want.
Talking of Harry James: if somebody
asks him: "Do you think that big bands are coming back?", he always
says: "We never left". But there is a lot of intensity that way
now. It started when Blood, Sweat And Tears made a breakthrough, adding more
instruments; they got away from just the plain guitars and drums sound. Now a
lot of the rock groups are adding more brass and woodwinds, getting into
better tunes, becoming more musical. The groups are bigger-which is a good
indication.
Everything travels in cycles, you know,
and that's the way music is. We're getting into a new cycle for big sounds
now.
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Preparing for our return engagement at
Ronnie Scott's in November, my thoughts go back to that wonderful initial
week last year-and to Ronnie himself. I've known him for many years, and I
know Ronnie as a dedicated player. With him, it's music all the way. Every
night, at the end of the gig, he'd come to me and he'd say: "Thank
you". It was beautiful; I knew, when he said those few words, he meant
it-because I know Ronnie, and he's a very honest guy. That really made me
feel good, because he knew the band was good, and performing at its peak. He
never missed one night.
While we were there, we did an album
for Ronnie's own label; I know that many performers do that, when they appear
there. Even though we're with Pablo and Concord, Norman Granz and Carl
Jefferson both agreed, because Ronnie is one of the few guys who has had a
club operating for twenty years, and given all these guys an opportunity to
play. The recording. doesn't hurt them, but it's a thing for
Ronnie, to get exposure to the great public over here. So it's nice when you
can do things like that, you know.
I know all the great big bands have
been in there-Buddy, of course, and Woody, Basie, Thad Jones and Mel Lewis.
Ellington didn't make it, but I'm sure he would have had he lived a little
longer-he'd have been very delighted to go. Sure, the acoustics are good. Any
place that you play, Ronnie's included, it always takes a day for the
instruments to sort of find the right spot, so to speak. They may press a
little too hard the first day, but then after you get accustomed to the
sound, you feel the room out and then it becomes great. A club like that is
marvellous, because the audience is right there, and they feel the im pact
and the excitement of the big band. It isn't like playing in a tremendous
hall, where the people are maybe a hundred feet away from you. In a club, you
always have that atmosphere-the kind you can't get anywhere else.
In LA, Donte's is smaller than
Ronnie's, really. We have a new place called Carmello's now, where most of
the guys are playing, that is more conducive than Donte's. Donte's is great
for a small group; it's okay for a big band, but when we went in there, I
used to have a couple sitting right next to my ride cym bal-and I felt guilty
hitting it every time! But it was a great place for us; we gained a lot of
recognition, and a lot of very happy moments there. Donte's is still a
brilliant place for a lot of musicians. Carmello's though, is like the size
of Ronnie's, and we're going to be playing there quite a bit now.
Another thing the band appreciates is
the chance to settle in one location for a spell. Because any time you play
one-nighters and things like that, you always have to go and get a sound
check, because the place is different, the bandstand is different, and you
don't know what mike set-up you're going to have. Playing in a club like
Ronnie's, as you get into the week, you settle in, and by the second or third
night you've really got it together.
Playing with my band, just as Oscar
Peterson or anybody, total concentration is the thing with me. I'm forever
listening, and making sure that performance is A number one at all times.
You know, that's a big factor at
clinics, too. When Bobby Shew or Don Menza do a clinic, the first thing
they'll say to the rhythm section: "Can you hear me?"-and
invariably some of the college of high school kids will say: "No, we
can't." Then Bobby or Don will say: "Well, if you can't hear me,
you can't give me the proper backing." You must have a monitor, and the
rhythm section should be able to hear the soloists at all times.
Then you've got a soloist plus the
proper accompaniment; with out that-you have the airplane with no pilot. Or
the pilot with no airplane-in either case, it doesn't make sense. One has to
have the other.
Talking of clinics-I'll be doing some
on this trip. I did one last year with my great friend Kenny Clare, who is
one of the giant players. Buddy and I always talk about Kenny. Before I had a
chance to meet him, he did a record with Ella Fitzgerald; the minute it came
out in the States, everybody said: "Wow-who is that playing drums?"
They could detect that it wasn't Buddy, and it wasn't me, but they knew it
was a fabulous, great player. As a result of that, Kenny Clare immediately
became a name in the States. Then, of course, later on they heard him not
only with John Dankworth and Cleo Laine, but also with the Francy Boland
band.
Kenny really did some things on that
concert with Buddy and I for Frank King. Kenny kept saying: "Me-play
with Buddy and Louie?", but we said: "Wait a minute-let's check him
out." I don't know if a lot of people know, but when it came time for
Kenny to play his solo, he broke his bass drum head almost immediately-and he
finished the solo with that broken head. And he sounded great. Buddy and I
felt that he did just a super job on that concert; we love him. It's always a
joy for me to do a clinic with Kenny, because I learn something from it-just
being with him. Like Buddy says; you always learn something from another
player. Specially a great player like that you really learn.
So we'll just keep forging
ahead-creating, travelling, re cording, and doing our thing; that's it.
IN LONDON AGAIN (third interview)
It's such a delight to see you guys
again; I always look forward every month to getting that magazine and reading
it, because I still feel that it's really one of the greatest music magazines
in the whole world today.
And it's a pleasure to be back here in
Britain; this one's only two weeks, but we've been having a ball. This was
our third trip with the band, and I hope we wind up doing about a hundred
trips. I do feel that this time we've got the soloists and the ensemble
sound, and, judging from the audiences and their reaction, I would say that
we've got probably the best band that I've ever had, right now.
They are just
super. Every night I get people coming over and saying that the fire, the
enthusiasm and the individual playing that this band has are just uncanny.
We're actually doing about a two-and-a-half hour to three-hour con cert every
night, and the guys look forward to it-they're on the bandstand way ahead of
time. They're just excited about being able to play for the people: It's been
a magic tour.
Plus the fact that we had a chance to
record again-at the same studio. That's the old Pye Records studio; they call
it PRT Studios now-right, where we did the original "Louie In
London" LP. Alan Freeman and Ray Prickett again recorded us, and I feel
this time we got even a better album than we did last time.
There's a lot of exciting things on
there. Matt Catingub played a beautiful alto solo, on an original thing that
he wrote. A young man by the name of Gregg Ruvolo, who was working with Gerry
Mulligan for a long time, did a nice flugelhorn solo-very much like Bobby
Shew, you know. And Ted Nash and Kenny Hitchcock were also featured.
The great George Duvivier has added so
much to this tour. Being a rhythm section player, I can only tell you that
having him in the band is like having God on your side! And that's really
something. First of all, George is basically one of the greatest
timekeepers-and I've worked with 'em all. Just to have him there playing time
is great enough on its own-but his solo capabilities are just staggering. On
the second half of every show, we devote a time to let the audience have
their ears come down from the volume, and have just the trio-Frank
Strazzieri, George and I. George plays this marvellous bass solo-the message
really gets across to the people. We were talking about it the other day: it
was over thirty years ago that George and I first started working together.
We played a lot of dates with Pearl; in fact, he was over here with Pearl
when we played the Talk Of The Town that month, a few years ago.
In Frank Strazzieri we've got a great
pianist. Then Walt Johnson came over with me; he's our regular high-note
player, and one of our lead players in California. He's been doing a thing on
"MacArthur Park" that just floors everybody-because it takes a player
like a Maynard Ferguson to play that, and he's got those kind of chops. He
gets up there, but they're true notes; he's a marvellous musician. Yes, he's
one of the newer genera tion of great players. And Brian O'Flaherty's back
with us, after playing lead trumpet with Woody's band; Dave Katz is another
fine player. John Eckert, from New York, is a great jazz player, who really
hasn't made his mark yet name-wise-but he will.
Clint Sharman is back on trombone. I'm
very happy about the whole texture of the band-all the ingredients are there.
Yes, the personnel has changed around
somewhat in the last few years. Like, in California now, Menza's no longer in
the band, because he's got his own group-he's trying to get his big band
together, but he's travelling quite a bit in Europe now; I think he just left
Sweden and Finland. Of course, Don has got a big name, and he's in demand; so
there's no reason why he shouldn't have a band of his own. The same thing
with Bobby Shew, who is one of the most tremendous lead players I ever had.
But I've got to say "I told you so". I used to say to Bobby:
"I'll bet you play good jazz". He'd always been considered a lead
player, and when I had Blue Mitchell in the band, Bobby wouldn't dare to play
solos-he loved Blue so much, that he wanted him to play them all. When,
sadly, Blue passed away, I told Bobby: "Look, you've got John Thomas,
Frank Szabo, Walt Johnson who are all great lead players; why don't you pass
the parts out to them, and you play some of the jazz things that Blue did."
Finally, he did-and Bobby has emerged as a great jazz artist. Which he's
always been. He's got his own quintet now, and he's playing terrific things.
Joe Romano is no longer in California-he went back to Rochester. So those
three are on their own now; when that happens, you have to do what Buddy
does, what Woody does -you have to find replacements.
The talented youngsters are
around-that's for sure. My great-nephew is playing second alto; and he's a
monster player, a graduate of Howard University in Washington, DC. His name
is Billy Murray-he likes to be known as William Santos Murray. We've got
brilliant players like that-they play good flute, they play clarinet, they
play with good intonation, good musicality; they read, they compose, they
arrange. It's such a joy to see that kind of thing happening, you know. It
makes you feel like you want to work and not get paid; you don't care, be
cause you're contributing something that's going to be valid.
To show you the interest they have. . .
we're doing this small band album, with Frank, George, myself and Ted Nash,
who's going to be playing tenor or alto; that really comprises our quartet. .
. well, Matt Catingub came up to me on the plane, on the way over here, and
said: "Forgive me for saying this, but I want to play so much-can I just
do one or two things with that quartet when you do it? You don't have to pay
me-all I want to do is just play with you guys." Well, that's the kind
of enthusiasm; they're interested in music, and they want to play.
He's only twenty-one years old, don't
forget-he's really con cerned with doing something that's got value to it.
Boy, you can't beat that.
In the future, I hope that we will be
able to give our youngsters a little more education, listening-wise. Let them
be aware of some good jazz records, some symphony records and know what the
opera is all about. In this way, they won't be honed in to just one
particular thing. When my son was thirteen and fourteen, like most kids, he
was locked into one thing-go ing to the heavy rock concerts, and yelling and
screaming.
Okay, if that's what they want to do,
fine-but that's all they know, and it's a shame if they're not musically
educated. Once my son grew up to the age of eighteen and nineteen. . . he
came to see me at the house, and I said: "Hey, as long as you're here,
here's some clothes and some records that you left." He looked at the
records, and he said: "Those are mine? But, Dad, those are junk!" I
said: "Well-you're growing up now. I think you're realising the
difference between bad music and good music. If you call that junk, okay-I
never like to put anything down, but musically it is not good. Truthfully.
You're more educated now; you've had a chance to listen to some good
contemporary groups. You've had a chance to know who Basie is, who Oscar
Petersen is, who Dizzy Gillespie is-what Weather Report is, if you want to go
the other way. I even made you aware of what the Budapest String Quartet was.
" He said: "Boy, you're
right, Dad." I said: "Well, that's what it's all about." So I
think that's a very important thing that should happen. Youngsters should not
be deprived of being educated in that way.
You know, I've been thinking about you
for a couple of months. In the States I said: "I know I'm going to be
talking to Les Tomkins when I get over there", and I had one big thing
that I wanted to talk to you about. Pearl mentioned this: when a great artist
grows older here in England, they really respect that artist. They don't say:
"Well, you're old and you're over the hill. Forget it-just get out of
the way"-which we tend to do.
You still respect them for what their
contribution has been; the heavies are even knighted.
We really need to have this attitude
much more in the States, I feel. One example: there's one gentleman who's
still living, although he's not very well, and he is responsible for a lot of
the things that I did.
He's one of my mentors, and, I'm sure,
of Buddy Rich, because Buddy and I talked about him. I never had one idol,
but if I had to pick one guy, it would have to be him. He's still with us,
and yet a lot of the youngsters don't know about him. Which is a shame,
because they should go back and know where the roots are.
This guy I'm speaking of is Jo
Jones-" Papa Jo" who created so much for all of us; I just can't
say enough about that dear man. He came several times to the club where I was
work ing, Sweet Basil's . George Duvivier, John Bunch, Ted Nash and I worked
there-and he sat at a booth right next to where my drums were set up; he
folded out a newspaper, and he asked for a pair of brushes. Right in the
middle of the set, I said: "Ladies and gentlemen, there he is-that's the
boss." And there he was, on the table with a newspaper, and Jo and I
played fours.
Here's a guy that I think all the young
drummers should know about. Max Roach made a beautiful statement; he said:
"What can I say about Jo Jones? I'll tell you what I can say about
him-out of any three licks that any drummer can play, two of 'em belong to Jo
Jones." That's great-and it's right, you know. He really laid it all
down.
Well, Louie-you've been coming over
here now for at least twelve years; I've talked to you many times, of course,
but this is the first time that I haven't had to say to you: "When are
we going to hear that big band of yours?" That's right. I really feel
good about this; with the great help of Crescendo, of the promoter of this
tour, Peter Brightman, and of people that have believed in my big band, we've
made it an actual truth-we're over here, and we're really enjoying it. The
engagement at Wembley was nice; the only problem there was it was a Saturday
afternoon, and a lot of people didn't get a chance to hear the band. But all
this week at Ronnie's, it's just been terrific; Ronnie has been great, the
club's been packed every night, the band is playing well-it's just
sensational, man.
No doubt you've brought some new charts
with you? Oh, yes-we're always creating new things, with people like Don
Menza in the band; he's a great contributor, as far as arrangements are
concerned, besides his playing ability. Don is always bringing a new chart
in-like, once every week. Then Bill Holman writes for us; I'm doing quite a
bit of writing.
Within the band, we have quite a few
guys who write; there's Nat Pierce, and now Bobby Shew has turned out to be
an ex cellent composer and arranger-he just wrote a beautiful thing for his
late colleague Blue Mitchell, which he titles just plain "Blue".
It's a gorgeous piece of music.
Also little Matt Catingub, who's only
eighteen years old-his mother is the marvellous singer Mavis Rivers-he's
contributed a couple of charts already that are just dynamite. He plays alto
saxophone; he wrote a composition called "Explosion", which
features him on alto, but it's mainly a drum vehicle for me. We play it in
the second set, and it's demanding; you have to have a good band to play it,
but it comes off great-everybody asks me who wrote it.
And Gordon Goodwin-he's playing
baritone now, but can play lead alto or any of the chairs-there's another
youngster, who's about twenty-one. years old, who can compose very well. So
the band's loaded with talent. We claim to be a good ensemble band, but yet
we have all these individuals, that I think are very important in making up a
really great band. We just did a new album for the Concord label; it'll be
released in January, and it's got all brand new material. Most of the things
are by Don Menza, and this "Explosion" piece by Matt is on there.
We're very happy with it; I've already done the mixing on it. The band sounds
wonderful-it's on-the-spot, live recording, which I like the best; you don't
have to worry about that closed-in feeling you get in a studio, when you know
you're going to try to fight to hear one another. When you're playing to the
people, you don't have that stigma; it's a more natural sound-you feel better
that way.
You've started to record at Ronnie's,
haven't you? Right. It always takes a day, even for the engineers to get
their mikes set up; so the first day is sort of a throw-away. I think when we
go in tonight we should be able to get something out of the two sets; we play
a good hour-and-a-half set-so that's at least three hours every night. Out of
that, we'll pick enough for an album. Last night, the other mikes were in the
way of the house mikes; you try to make that adjustment, and give them a
chance to do the sound. We'll be in good form tonight, I think.
I'm sure audience reactions have been
consistently favour able. Well, it's because we appreciate the audiences here
that we wanted to come over with an excellent band; all my guys have looked
forward to this for many years. We appreciate audiences all over, but we know
that here. . . you know, we don't want to try to fool anybody; we want to
come with some thing that's valid, because you've already had a chance to
hear great bands like Duke and Basie and Buddy and Woody-so it's got to be
right.
I must, say, all the write-ups so far
have been just beautiful; they've respected the soloists that I've brought over,
like Nat Pierce, Joe Romano, Don Menza, Bobby Shew. Bill Berry, by the way,
is with us also, and so is John Heard on bass. They made it a point to say
nice things about these players, as well as the full band ensemble.
Well, it's a bit of an all-star band,
after all.
Yeah, it really is. And I was very
lucky too; all those players can stay in California, where they've got big
fat salaries, but money is not the biggest problem for these kind of
guys-they still like to play. In order to do that, you have to go out and
travel all over the world, like the bands do-in order to get that inner
feeling. These guys have a deep respect for music; staying in one spot and
doing studio work is not enough for them. And I'm glad, because I can get 'em
out, and let people hear 'em play-which is vitally important.
They need that musical release.
They do-and it's better for everybody
concerned. In life, like we used to say, how many steaks can you eat a day,
or how many Rolls-Royces can you have? They're not even interested in that;
all they want to do is be able to get on the bandstand, and know that they've
come up with something really constructive and beautiful, that the people
like. That's worth more than anything you can imagine.
I know you do a lot of dates around the
L. A. area, but is this the first time you've actually travelled around with
the band? We've also travelled to New York and back many times with this
band. Now, we haven't done that for about three years, and the people
there-all the colleges and night-clubs are saying: "Come on back to New
York. We haven't heard you for a long time." So we're going to
co-ordinate a couple of tours back to New York with the band. But, of course,
this is the first time here for me with any kind of a group of my own. I was
always with small bands, such as Oscar, Dizzy, Jazz At The Philharmonic-which
is not a bad deal.
Previously, the only big bands we'd
heard you with were British ones. For instance, I was in the studio when you
made the "Louie In London" LP.
Then there was the Concert Tribute we
did for the late Frank King-Buddy Rich, Kenny Clare and myself-when we used
the Bobby Lamb/ Ray Premru Band. By the way, I saw Bobby-he came in the club
the other day. But I agree with Buddy when he says that he had been over here
a few times before, but it isn't until you can really do your own thing, with
your own band, that you can properly showcase yourself to the public.
You've worked yourself up to that
position, and when it comes off, you say: "Well, great-there it is."
Like, Oscar came in, and he's really very fond of our band; he said :
"Boy, you guys are really hot!" When you get such comments, it
makes you feel good inside, like your mission is successful. Because I really
plan on coming over once a year at least; I'd love to do it. And I don't mean
to come over the first time with a great band like this, and next time to
come over with a mediocre band. I don't believe in that; I believe that
wherever you play and whatever you do, you should always lay a hundred per cent,
and come up with the finest that you can.
Buddy always feels that each band is
better than the one he brought before.
That's right. And even though some of
them aren't name quality; in the States, you've got young players who don't
have the name yet, but boy, they just play. They're from eighteen, nineteen
on, and they're great; I know that, because I deal with them all year round.
With varying personnel, you've operated
a big band for a good many years now, haven't you? Yes, actually we started
with the band itself in the early 'fifties.
Somebody said to me in the club last
night: "The band has such precision-how do you get 'em so
together?" They felt that I probably just got these guys together and
rehearsed for a couple of weeks. I said: "Well, you must remember this
band has been together for twelve years." Don Menza's been with me for
at least twelve years; Bobby Shew, Larry Covelli, Nat Pierce have been quite
a few years with the band-so have some of my other trumpet players and a
couple of the trombone players.
When you've got a band like this, it
just doesn't happen in three or four weeks. You vary a little bit in your
personnel, but I can honestly say that most of the guys in our band have been
with us from seven to twelve years. That's why it's a good band-we feel one
another; it's an organisation. That's why it has that precision.
The last time we met, you were
enthusing about the prospect of bringing the band over, and one of the
musicians you said you expected to have with you was the late Frank Rosolino.
Frank was all set; in fact, when I was
here last year with Oscar and John Heard, I spoke with Frank over the
telephone, and he gave me a "Yes". He said: "Absolutely-we got
it." And this band, as good as it is-with Frank added, it would just be
unbelievable. We all know what a dear friend and a great player Frank
Rosolino was; he had to be classed as one of the two or three top trombone
players of all time-there's no question about it. I certainly felt a
tremendous sense of loss-and the way it happened was such a shame. Don Menza
was a very close friend of Frank, and it just staggered him-as it did all of
us. With the loss of Frank, and then Blue Mitchell. And then I just lost my
band manager, Nick DiMaio, who had been with me for thirty-five years; he was
looking forward to this trip, and we lost him October 10th.
But, you know, you just can't get a big
band like this, and fly 'em in from L. A., which is probably the farthest
point in the States. Usually, bands work from L. A. to New York, and then fly
over from New York, which is less costly. But Slingerland Drum Company,
Zildjian Cymbal Company, and Remo Inc. all contributed to help pay some of
the fares for these guys, and Peter Brightman and myself were able to get all
their individual salaries. Because some of these guys don't come cheap, and
they shouldn't-but they all agreed that they wanted to come over and play. I
wanted to mention that, because without the help of all these people, we
wouldn't have been able to do it.
And I thought that was very nice of
them, just voluntarily to say: "Well, we've never done it before, but
here it is." A little appreciation like that really helps.
That concert we did at the Barbican
with Peggy Lee came off just great. First of all, Peggy is a marvellous
artist. I go way back with her, you know-1943 with Benny Goodman's band;
this was in the days when she was going with Dave Barbour.
We've always been very close, Peggy
and I, but I hadn't seen her for a long time-it's been about five years-so
when we met up again that day we just hugged and kissed. She calls me
"Apples", because I'd always be back there munching on fruit-I
still do. .
Now, I must explain-when you do those
kind of shows, you're booked as a separate act. It was our band, then Peggy
Lee, and then Carmen McRae, and then Joe Williams-these were the artists on
the bill. Carmen had her own group there; so she was okay-but I know that
Joe wanted so much to use our band, because he's got some great Thad Jones
and Ernie Wilkins arrangements. And what a joy it is to work with that
guy-he's a great singer. Yet you can't do that-because they feel that I'm
an act, and so forth. That didn't bother me, but there just wasn't enough
rehearsal time, because Peggy deserved three hours, just like Joe would. So
Joe had to use a small group, which was fine, and we rehearsed throe hours
with Peggy.
They had Art Morgan, who's a very
fine British drummer-he came specifically to play for Peggy; which he's
done before. They rehearsed about four or five tunes; I sat out in the
audience area-and he sounded great, with George Duvivier's bass and with
Peggy. I could tell she was very satisfied with the band. When the break
came, I just happened to walk right by Peggy; we kissed again, and she
said: "You know, this man is a great player-but I haven't seen you for
so long. Why aren't you playing for me" I said: "Well-I don't
know." She said: "He's a beautiful drummer, but it would be so
nice to have you play a few things." That's how that happened. I
finally wound up playing the whole thing. I know Art understood-it was
purely a thing where we hadn't seen one another, and wanted to do it.
She had Pete Moore there, a great
writer and conductor, and she used our whole band. Of course, she flipped
over George Duvivier; and our pianist, Frank Strazzieri, too. She's so
great-and it was good to see her again. She's getting ready to do a
Broadway play on her life, you know; I hope it's a big success-she's
certainly paid her dues: Well, Peggy; Ells, Sarah, Carmen-and Pearl-just
keep going. Like Bing Crosby used to say: these people have longevity
that's unbelievable. Where others have short professional lives-maybe two
or three years; and that's it-they go on, and they get better and better.
On this concert, they wouldn't let Peggy off the stage-she came back for
two or three encores. After the performance, she said to m:
"Please-let's do some things together." I said: "You know
where to get hold of me-it'd be my pleasure." So I'm looking forward
to that.
At the end of the tour I told Peter
Brightman: "Listen, I don't care what it is-just bring me back here.
If it can't be once a year, don't make it any more than two years in the
interim." I think we'll be doing one with Tony Bennett; of course,
Tony is a dear friend-another great artist. With him, the magic is there;
we've done it a couple of times in the States before-and we just reach a
height.
In fact, we just finished an
hour-and-a-half PBS show (that means Public Broadcasting Service). It's
Pearl's show, and she had Sarah Vaughan and Tony Bennett on it. We did it
in Danville, Kentucky; now; this is horse country, s beautiful location,
and right in the middle of this small city you've got one of the most
fabulous theatres in the whole world: It was, built by Frank Lloyd Wright's
son-in-law, who used to live in Danville, but lives in New York now; he
became very wealthy and he wanted to do something for Danville-so he built
this tremendous theatre. If you can visualise: it has close to three thousand
seats; the downstairs only seats four to five hundred, the balcony comes
almost directly on stage, and the sound is magnificent. Pearl told Ella
about it; she worked there-but Tony and Sarah had not worked there, and
they flipped out.
And I think that PBS show is going to
be a real good one.
Public Broadcasting is real big in
the States now, Because there you can see some great programmes. I hope you
have a chance to see this show over here some time, because I know you'll
enjoy it. Sarah and Tony each had a chance to do four or five tunes,
without any interruption; Pearl had a chance to do her thing; Honi Coles,
the great tap dancer, did a spot with Pearl. It was all music; our band
played for the whole show, plus Milt Hinton on bass, Remo Palmier on
guitar, Rozelle Claxton on piano-Pearl's regular quartet, you know. It
really came off great; we walked away from that knowing that we did
something-that good feeling, when you know the creative genes were going!
On the subject of big band drumming: yes, I always refer to Mel Lewis as
the ideal player in this field-he's marvellous.
In fact, on my clinics I'll always
start off by playing a long drum solo; of course, the kids say: "Oh,
yeah, man-that's great!" I say: "Now, wait a minute-I did that
purposely. When I play that long drum solo that's fine-but that's
secondary." They say: "What do you mean by that?" I say:
"Well, first of all, it s very important for us to learn how to play
this instrument. We are timekeepers; we are part of a rhythm section. I don't
care if you're playing outside music, straight mainstream or whatever-you
belong to that section.
If we're talking about big band
drumming, one of the greatest examples is Mel Lewis." I always mention
him; he's a small band drummer too, but people know him as a big band
drummer. And what he does in that big band: without having to play any big
solos or anything, he takes care of business with that rhythm section and
with that band-he did it with Thad Jones and he does it in his band right
now.
Mel always listens to the soloists,
to become an accompa niment to them, and he's always sound-conscious. A
great big band drummer. I just put the headset on and listen to the things
he did with Thad and Mel, and what he's doing with the tre mendous band
he's got in New York now-and it's there, that feel. So I tell the kids to
go out and get those records, and listen to what he does. He's a big band
barometer in himself-with that beautiful sound.
How many solos can you play? On top
of that, suppose you just play the one solo-what happens the rest of the
night? But I can see the anxiety of the young people in the audience; I can
almost feel it. They'll listen to me play a ballad; they'll sit there and
say: "Yeah-okay." Then they'll listen to a little up-tempo thing-but
they're waiting for that last tune, with the solo climax. Fine-but it's so
beautiful to watch the players like Mel or Buddy or Peter Erskine or Jo
Jones or Philly Joe Jones or Max Roach, and see what they do during that
set. How they accompany a singer, how they play in back of a beautiful
ballad, what they do on a bossa nova, things like this-that's the magic.
When the guys in my band come to me
and say: "Boy, Lou, you really swung the. band tonight!", that's
what I want to hear. If they just say: "Boy, that solo was out of
sight!"-that's maybe just once a night; what happened to that other
two hours? That's where the magic is supposed to happen. So we're getting
the young people to realise: look what he did right there; listen to that
overall sound. Understand what Mel did when Thad was out front doing
something-whether it be a delicate waltz or a real bombastic type of chart.
The listening is always the key thing. Mel and all those great players are
not back there playing by themselves-they're aware of who's playing a solo,
and they hear him, so that they can give him the proper backing. These
things are very important.
Years ago, before they really
considered us as an integral part of the band, they used to say:
"We've got sixteen guys and a drummer." And Buddy and I used to
say: "What do you mean? We're just as important as anybody."
Then, of course, came that marvellous time, when he was with Tommy and I
was with Bonny-that was the instrumental age. The singers weren't the big
thing then-it was the instrumentalists. You could name all the
heavies-like, in Tommy's band there was Buddy, Ziggy Elman, Don Lodice,
Johnny Mincc. Of course, it was the marvellous Gene Krupa who was the first
guy to bring the drums to the foreground. Buddy and I have always passed
the same in formation to youngsters; when they'd say: "How do you do
that thing with the left hand?", we'd say: "Never mind that-let
me see what you can do swing-wise." We still make that an empha sis,
because that's where the musicality is.
Like, a cymbal itself is a beautiful
instrument. I've been to the Zildjian factory in Boston, talking to Armand
or maybe Lennie Di Musio, and they'd turn around and say: "Excuse me,
Lou. . . Hey!" There'd be somebody over in a corner hitting a cymbal, and
they'd tell him: "Don't ever hit the cymbal that way-let me show you
how to hit it." There's a certain way you hit that cymbal to get what
you want; you can hit it loud or you can hit it soft, but there's a way to
get the ultimate sound out of it-a beautiful, musical sound. Same thing
with a drum. You know, it's a feather in my cap when I've had two
eighty-year-old ladies sit right in front of my drum set, listen to a whale
set, and not hold their hands over their ears. Yet you can sit twenty feet
away from another guy, who doesn't know how to play, and you'll say:
"My ,God, what is he doing? It sounds like World War Three!"'
It's a matter of dynamics-the touch: You have to develop a touch on that
instrument-just like you do on a piano, a violin or anything.
As for the misuse of volume in some
groups-it just be comes total distortion. It's too bad that some of those
youngsters have to resort to something like that, because when you think of
a distorted level, it isn't music any more-it's a great shame they don't realise
that. They're only hurting their own health too, because I know my ear
physician in California told me: "Lou, you're losing a little bit of
your hearing in your right ear; that's natural-you've been playing over
fifty years, with big bands, and in a lot of conditions. But I have some
youngsters, nineteen and twenty years old-they're in the heavy rock groups
and they're deaf." I hate to see that kind of thing happen.
The interviews were with Les Tompkins
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