THE INFLUENCE OF BIX BEIDERBECKE – VOLUME ONE: USA By Max Easterman Even though it became known as “The Jazz Age”, real jazz was rarely popular in its own right during the 1920s, as witness the rarity of many of the finest jazz recordings from this era. Jazzmen – particularly white jazzmen – made much more money and often won greater fame using it to pep up dance music than they ever did making pure jazz recordings, though, of course, it’s by the jazz they played on records that we now judge their worth. Such is the distorting mirror of history! Of course, to the general public of the time, arranged dance music played with a rhythmic bounce and offering the occasional jazz-like solo was what they thought of as “jazz”. Two recordings suffice to illustrate the point. The recording of Paul Whiteman’s Back In Your Own Backyard , issued in March 1928, sold 88,000 copies; Bix’s recording of Somebody Stole My Gal , recorded a few weeks later, made sales of only 2400. The first is a highly arranged dance band recording containing just two short solos by Bix; the latter is a romping jazz gem, on which Bix flies like a bird throughout and inspires his fellows to greater things than they knew they were capable of. Bix was a legend in his lifetime for the men who played with him, or listened to him and tried to play like him. But for the general public, who bought the discs, he was just another name, a name which only became significant, for some of them, long after his death. However, Bix’s influence on the cornet and trumpet players of his generation, indeed on horn players generally, is what this CD set is about, and there can be no doubt that it took hold very early on in Bix’s career. Bix and the Wolverines recorded Jazz Me Blues for Gennett Records in Richmond, Indiana, in mid-February of 1924. Just over four months later, Red Nichols interpolated Bix’s solo, almost note for note, into George Olsen’s New York recording of You’ll Never Get to Heaven With Those Eyes . According to Richard Sudhalter and Phil Evans, in Bix: Man and Legend, it was in fact Olsen’s arranger, Eddie Kilfeather, who’d heard the record and transcribed the solo for Nichols, even though the chord sequence bears no relation to the pop tune recorded by the Olsen band! Nichols’ phrasing is more staccato than Bix’s, especially at the faster tempo of the Olsen recording. It’s a good enough solo in its own right, but the historical significance here is that it’s the earliest known example of a Bix solo being transcribed from a recording and played by another musician. Nichols was, apparently, so impressed with Bix’s work on the Gennett recordings that he made a point of going to meet him a few weeks later. They became firm friends thereafter and Bix roomed with Nichols on one of his early visits to New York City. It’s claimed that they may have recorded together but there’s no evidence it happened: no such record has – as yet – come to light. Certainly, Bix’s playing had a deep and long-lasting effect on Nichols’ style, and he suffered venomous criticism from some quarters as a result. Perley Breed’s Shepard Colonial Orchestra played in the restaurant of the Shepard Colonial department store in Boston. John Shepard III, the store’s owner, was something of a media pioneer, with a radio station, WNAC, broadcasting directly from the store. The band’s trumpeter, Warren Hookway , is a mysterious figure, described as a “wild guy” by Max Kaminsky. Hookway’s only other recorded contributions of the period are as a member of groups led by a much better known trumpeter, Phil Napoleon. His half- chorus solo on Where’s My Sweetie Hiding? is Bixian in tone and competent enough, though not outstanding. Much more significant is the ensemble playing of the band, which strongly reflects the Wolverines’ style, both in tone and beat, known as ‘sock’ rhythm (with the cornet playing a very heavily accented first beat of four); in this respect, the recording demonstrates the fact that the Wolverines’ influence had spread well beyond the mid-West within a matter of months. Later on in the 1920s, Perley Breed sailed the Atlantic to join the Ambrose Orchestra in London. As a matter of fact, it was Al Sudhalter – father of Richard Sudhalter – who was originally picked for the job, but Sudhalter decided not to go for family reasons. Perley Breed returned to Massachusetts in 1929 and quickly faded into obscurity; he died, probably as a result of alcoholism, in the late 1930s. Controversy has long surrounded the identity of the cornet soloist on Marion McKay’s recording of Doo Wacka Doo . At one time, the solo was thought to have been by Bix himself: the story goes that he was invited along to the Gennett studios by McKay’s drummer, Jack Tillson, sat in for the solo and was paid $30 for the gig. However, later research by Warren Plath revealed the true identity of the Bixian soloist – McKay’s regular cornetist, Leroy Morris; in any case, Tillson did not play on this date! It’s a fine solo, though, which stands out from the rest of the performance – and provides yet further evidence of Bix’s early and widespread influence. Hitch’s Happy Harmonists (left and right) Haskell Simpson, Maurice May, Henry Wright, Early “Buddy” McDowell, Arnold Habbe, Hoagy Carmichael, Curtis Hitch and Fred Rollison. Taken at Gennett Records studio in 1924 McKay’s was one of many mid-West bands that recorded for Gennett at its Richmond, Indiana, studios. By the mid-1920s, the company had pretty well cornered the market for hotter groups in the Indiana, Ohio and Illinois region. Curtis Hitch’s Happy Harmonists was one such outfit, hailing from Evansville, Ohio. Hitch and his band of high school friends started out as dedicated followers of the New Orleans Rhythm Kings (NORK), after hearing their Gennett recordings; indeed, the NORK’s influence is quite obvious in the Happy Harmonists’ first records (also for Gennett), which pre-date the Wolverines’ recordings by several months. But a chance encounter with the Wolverines, playing in Bloomington, Indiana, turned Hitch and his men into Bixophiles virtually overnight! Cataract Rag Blues could have been recorded by the Wolverines, so similar is the sound, the rhythm and Fred Rollison’s cornet playing, which rings out over the ensemble, just as Bix’s did. Jimmy Joy’s Orchestra, circa 1926, with Rex “Curley” Preis, trumpet. Note contrabass sax in background! Riverboat Shuffle was written by Hoagy Carmichael, a close friend and admirer of Bix, and was another title recorded by the Wolverines. By the time Jimmy Joy got around to recording it, the tune had become something of a standard (it was even recorded by the Kit Cat Band in England a few months later – see Volume Two of this CD set), and it was one of the first titles Bix recorded with Frankie Trumbauer in 1927. The Jimmy Joy band follow the orchestration of the Wolverines very closely, though Rex Preis’ cornet solo is modelled on Bix’s more in tone and attack than actual style, and the band interpolate an extra chorus. This track was recorded in Kansas City, Missouri, rather than the band’s base of Dallas, Texas. After recording Riverboat Shuffle , the Joy band travelled on to Chicago. There they met up with Bix himself, who was working in Charley Straight’s band, and even persuaded him to do a private recording with them, but – and this presaged things to come – he cancelled at the last minute because of a hangover. Tiger Rag is one of the most frequently recorded tunes in jazz (only beaten by St Louis Blues ). The Wolverines’ own recording of the number was made in June 1924 and is noteworthy for one of Bix’s most original and instantly recognisable solos. Almost identical solos to that played by Bix appear on records made by several other bands over the following four years…including one by the California Ramblers in May, 1925. But who is playing it and how did this trumpeter come to hear Bix’s solo? The first question is perhaps easier to answer: the finger clearly points to Red Nichols (again!), who was recording regularly with the Ramblers at that time. Another Ramblers-group version, by the University Six, of almost exactly a year later, features the same solo, by what sounds like the same soloist. In the past, this solo was ascribed to Chelsea Quealey, but Quealey had both a warmer tone and a more Bixian style than that of the player(s) on either of the Ramblers’ versions of the number. The latest edition of Brian Rust’s Jazz Records lists Roy Johnston for the University Six side and this seems entirely plausible: Johnston, in 1926, was still playing in the rather staccato style that Red Nichols had been using a year earlier. Nichols is most likely to be the man on the full California Ramblers version presented here. The California Ramblers, circa 1924. Note Adrian Rollini playing bass saxophone in the background But now for the real mystery: how did either man come to hear and copy Bix’s solo? The Wolverines’ recording wasn’t issued commercially until 1936. Only a few test pressings were made at the time of the original session. There are two possible answers.