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by P. Willis Pitts

She not just a bass player: she is a major icon in the history of electric bass playing. In 50's and 60's Los Angeles, a select band of studio musicians was the driving force behind the bulk of pop hits being released. Carol, with her innovative style - taut, flat-wound strings; forceful pick strokes and felt damping - was so sought after that her bass lines literally shaped and directed a whole generation of pop music. Veteran of over 10,000 studio sessions, she has never lost her down-home integrity, her love of teaching, and a solid sense of ethics; qualities that served her well in an era infamous for its ephemeral values. Still going strong at 57, Carol shared with us some experiences and insights from her incredible life - P. Willis Pitts

You were originally a guitarist. What started you, and how did you learn? There wasn't much around in those days in the way of formal tutors.

I grew up very poor in Everett, and then Wilmington, California, the third and last daughter to musician parents. After World War II ended, my mother divorced my father and soon I was working part-time scrubbing floors and cleaning apartments at the age of ten to help supplement our welfare income. It was kind of a tough childhood. I was also buck-toothed, ugly, shy and a very lonely kid, getting mostly A's in school, but I suffered socially, as I couldn't talk very well; I stuttered very badly. A travelling salesman came by with cheap music lessons and a cheap little steel . My Mom encouraged me to take guitar lessons - later, from Horace Hatchett, who was then the teacher of , Oscar Moore (Nat Cole's guitarist), John Gray, Reuben Quintero and other professionals. It was accidental, but Horace Hatchett was the finest teacher on the West Coast, and, within three to four months, I was advancing so fast, he hired me to work for him as his teaching assistant. This way, I was able to buy my Super 400. I used to transcribe Artie Shaw's great band recordings as well as all the Charlie Christian guitar stuff for both myself and my students, and I also played some casual gigs around Long Beach, 1949, aged fourteen. I finally got pregnant, married etc., and wound up on the road later with Henry Busse's Orchestra, with my first husband playing acoustic bass. In 1955 to 1956, I started to play really good around Los Angeles. In 1956 to 1961 played with Teddy Edwards, with Curtis Counce on bass; on drums - he's the drummer you see in the movie Round Midnite. Also, I played with many other fine jazz groups, while working days as a tech typist at Bendix, typing manuals for parts. I got into studio work accidentally, playing guitar backgrounds for and other soul artists, starting December 1957. You Send Me was very big at that time, but, being a jazzer, I was in another world and had never heard of Sam. Recording sessions with Sam Cooke got me in, and, gradually I was to become a very popular Los Angeles studio guitarist, about 4th-call.

What made you progress on to the bass? An electric didn't show up for a record date at Capitol one day in late 1963, and I just picked up the Fender 'P' Bass and started playing it the way I was always hearing it in my head - things that no one else was doing at that time - the way I thought the bass should sound on hit records. From 1955 to about 1963, was playing on most of the Fender Bass hits in Los Angeles' studios, and the electric-bass chair really opened up big when he quit playing to be the Musical Director of the Shindig TV show. Good bass lines were rare in those years; no parts were written down, and the bassist played very simply, which was good, but music was quickly evolving into double-time funk, and a boring bass line could sometimes doom a recording.

As most models would've been jazz or orchestral at that time, and the electric bass was then a comparatively new instrument, how did you develop your 'pop' lines?

Because we just had head charts (chord symbols), with, perhaps, some breaks and/or horn/band lines written out, I was free to create my own bass lines. I had played guitar on some and Dick Dale solos, along with double-time 12-string fills, lines, rhythm, two and four beat splanks1 etc; sometimes reading at the more prestigious but sparse dates with Bing Crosby, , Pat Boone, and so on. My early guitar work gave me good rhythmic chops for bass. I was very influenced by Latin Montuno lines, as well as jazz horn riffs and conga patterns, but not by acoustic bass. I never really listened to other . Although I thought that 's style was great, I never tried to sound like him. Past music experiences influenced my bass creativity. As arrangers began to hone their arranging crafts, they started to get creative, with bass lines derived from horn licks, drum rhythm licks, etc., like I first did. I used to laugh at arranger Gene Page, who would immediately write down lines and licks I'd improvise on the record dates for his future arrangements. Some dates, I'd go in and read my own previously-recorded lines - lines I had improvised weeks or months earlier. Fats Domino's drummer from New Orleans, the fine , second only to in the L.A. studios, had a double-time Swamp Beat; he got the samba-type 16th note paradiddles going, and we'd wind up playing the very same cross- time paradiddle fills together by accident. He was the most fun drummer to play bass along with. Other drummers I loved were Shelly Manne; ; , etc..

It seems obvious that you didn't just play on these records, but because of your own creativity and innovations on the bass, you helped form the actual structure of what we now call 60's music.

When I started playing the Fender Bass, producers were using the Fender bass and acoustic bass together for a full, rich bass sound on recordings - sometimes with the Danelectro 6-string . I had no intention of replacing the other bass players, but my style - down and up-beat picking with felt muting - gradually eliminated the need for the other two basses. I kept my flat- wound strings extra high so I could play very hard with the pick. Pretty soon, the few Fender bassists around were being asked to get the 'Carol Kaye' sound. In those years, it was not 'pick- sounding'; but with aged tapes, you can hear more of the high-end pick 'click' sound; a technical quirk. Also, largely because of my rhythms, everyone was increasingly required to read tough 16th note patterns. Arrangers like Gene Page would write two bass parts: a difficult one, especially for me; and an easier one, if they couldn't get me. You can hear the Latin, jazz and conga drum influences in my bass lines, but I never thought I was a 'great' bassist, just a good creative studio bassist whose job it was to help get hit

1 A semi-choked guitar chord on the 2nd or 4th beats records for the producers/arrangers/companies who hired me. About creating: I never categorized when creating lines, but played lines that would be appropriate for the artist, song and rest of the band. Usually the arranger's lines would be a little stiff, and I'd be asked to invent something of my own around their style - but I always had to read their lines first. Sometimes I accidentally did the right thing, trying to wake up a groove - as on Mel Torme's Games People Play. We all got sleepy or tired, in spite of the massive doses of coffee, and the very fine drummer on this date was evidently very tired - but I must add that we would always help each other out in these situations. Anyway, he was slowing us down quite a bit. Maybe it was my simple bass lines, I don't know, but the big band was staring at me, like "Carol, do something", completely unsuitable for the tune, while Mel so, I played a bass 16th note wall-to-wall concerto2 just crooned softly. They seemed to think it was exciting, but I apologized, saying, "please, it's too much bass, let's do it over!" feeling like I'd failed Mel. But they said it was great, and, would you know, that damn thing was a big hit, and I'm glad to say Mel made a good piece of change off that. So, you never know. Maybe sometimes playing off-the-wall stuff is good, too!

It was obviously a very exciting and unique time. What made you move on? I worked a lot with the great drummer Hal Blaine, and we played on some early dates with H.B. Barnum and , , and so on. These dates were big hits. But, unfortunately, Hal and I later got onto some things with , Dino-Desi-Billy, Gary Lewis & the Playboys, Buckinghams, and so on. Although these were big hits, they were mostly somewhat tedious dates. I was glad when I quit recording with these kind of groups and took time off in 1970 to start writing books and teach the bass. When I went back to recording, I took only select record dates that I really wanted to: Mancini; Ray Charles; Streisand, etc.. In this way, I could enjoy the more challenging music scores of films and TV, especially when working for such great talents as , Michel Le Grand or John Williams. After those uncreative late 60's 'formula-hit' dates, this music was heaven. Nothing personal against those groups; they were nice fellows, and they certainly were grateful that our bunch of musicians created hit backgrounds for them. But I had had too many years of those unsatisfying studio sessions. You see, even though you may not have liked the music, you still had to psych yourself up to play great, and maybe still invent creative lines to help make a hit - that was your job. Money was secondary, and personal like or dislike never entered into the picture. It still makes me chuckle when I see TV interviews, with the artists bragging about how their music was so 'great' - still leading the public to believe that THEY played the music on their own hits. In those years, credits were merchandized out; record companies told the public what they wanted to hear in order to sell records. Anyway, it didn't matter to us; none of us wanted to be 'stars'. Contrary to public opinion, most 60's songs and singers were not hit material until our group of highly-skilled musicians created and performed power-house music backgrounds for them. They were family-oriented, top musicians from everywhere, usually either from big bands or from Jazz. The electric bass was the rhythmically-creative force, while drummers were equally playing good time. By 1970, I'd had my fill of it. I quit for about eight months in 1970 to start writing my books and to form my own company, Gwyn Publishing. Everyone thought I was making a terrible

2 Editor's Note: see 'Electric Bass Lines #2', by Carol Kaye, published by Alfred Publishing, Van Nuys, California mistake, as I was Hollywood's golden girl: Motown, Columbia, Capital had me as 1st-call bassist, and lots of producers wouldn't even do a record date without me. But there's only so many five- hours-a-night sleeps you can take, and then hit it again for six to seven days a week. It was a bad life; eating out of cans; seeing your kids for half an hour at dinner time, if you were lucky; drinking eight to twelve cups of coffee a day; grabbing five minutes sleep on your break on the dirty floors. I was glad I got out when I did.

You have now been playing the bass for almost three decades. Are there any differences in technique that you've observed since the early days?

Well, I noticed that the slap bass took over the important rhythmic role - much better than the cold synthesized bass - and the great Jaco and Stanley Clark pioneered the solo bass. The five- and six-string basses seem to be getting more popular now, too, which has really expanded the horizons. There are many fine bassists whose technique I do admire: John _____ , Dizzy Gillespie's bassist; Steve Swallow; Pattituchi; Nathan East; Lee Sklar; Abe Laboriel, who said he studied my books early on; and, of course, the very creative . But you know, I never considered myself a real bassist - one who can walk, play live jazz, etc. - until I played a lot of great concerts with , 1974 to 1975. But arthritis was getting to me, and then I was attacked. At first, I thought it was playing the bass that crippled me - Jaco Pastorius and I once spoke about similar neck problems; he was suffering in the late 70's, too, but said he ran a lot - and I did sit for thousands of hours in the studios. I got to play the Monterey Jazz Festival in the early 80's with a nerve stimulator strapped to my back. But I found out later that my physical disabilities were because of the injuries I'd sustained, not through playing the bass. If you watch your posture and technique and stretch a lot, you should never hurt from playing the bass, especially the lighter, better-made basses they have now. In fact, despite my injuries, my techniques kept me going. I have never had Carpel-Tunnel Syndrome as so many have, through their bad left-hand techniques - and I've played maybe ten times more than the average bassist in my career. I must say, it's nice to see beautiful talents come up and then surpass even the 70's giants. One thing, though, playing the new five- and six-string basses should really be supplemented with adequate learning theory and sight-reading, rather than just using these basses to show off or hit an occasional note. Five or six strings won't make you play better if you can't even play a 4-string well.

What about the technological developments in equipment?

I did use Fuzz Tone vibrato, Echo Plex, the Gibson Maestro Box with its steam, claves and octave dividers, and later, in the 60's recording studios, the 'wah-wah'. I messed around with other gadgets in the 70's, but the equipment I've mentioned got some distinctive sounds, mostly on TV shows like Ironsides, Kojak, and movies like In the Heat of the Night, True Grit, Airport, The Thomas Crown Affair. But it's amazing now to see and hear the electronic wizardry; just awesome. We saw people like David Paitch and other young guys bringing that stuff into the movie studios. They would drive the older-generation engineers nuts at times. It's kind of funny, because I used to do the same thing myself in film studios, insisting on mike placements, teaching them about fuzz tones, and so on. So, I'm not totally surprised. Having been out of the biz a long time, I am not qualified to give a truly knowledgeable opinion on the latest technical developments. I do love the newer amps and fine bass quality workmanship, too, but I still think that flat-wound strings are the only all-round great strings.

Which equipment do you prefer to use now?

Just an old Fender P copy and Walter Woods' bass amp, one of his first, with a Fender 4- 12" enclosed speaker cabinet. It gives me a nice, clean sound just for putzing around sometimes. I admire the new Surine Bass, custom-made here in the Denver area; best sound and feel I've ever tried.

In an earlier interview, in addressing the old 'picks vs. fingers' controversy, you said both were necessary.

In my day, to do versatile studio work, most producers required that you should have both pick and finger bass styles together, except for me. I believe my pick style got the best sound in the 60's, and Joe Osborne also used a pick; but later got a great finger sound. In the early 70's, film studios especially, wanted the pick sound. Bassists should learn how to mute their strings better, with either sponge or felt. My pick style was very fast and accurate. By playing hard with a hard pick, I got a very good, even, recording sound. It sounded like finger style, but with a wider tonal range, from the picky sound on 's Boots to the thick sound on Cosby's Hikky Burr, and 's . I got to teach most of the studio acoustic bassists who eventually replaced me in the mid- 70's. I taught them my own style: playing down on the downbeats and up on the upbeats, doubling for the 8/8 time funks. This method is superb for tone, accuracy, evenness and good tempo. One of the few times I ever recorded with all downstrokes was with Paul Revere and the Raiders on Indian Reservation, to keep the single bass-note line going. In the early days, I thought that the finger sound was best for jazz and certain pop and rock cuts, but I've never played with my fingers, always with a hard pick.

What was the attitude to a female bass player in former days? How does it compare to now?

Coming from a very well-respected, Los Angeles jazz background, there was immediate respect for me, especially since I had played guitar on a lot of big hits, and I was already established as an in-demand studio guitarist. When I switched to bass, I very quickly copped the #1-call recording spot. This was a big surprise to many people, but it added further to my reputation. Being a female never entered into it. Rhythm section players never had to learn to play 'golf'; we were constantly in demand, with hardly any competition. I could be myself, polite, but never playing politics. "The tape don't lie", as we used to say. I could kid right along with the best of the guys, and they knew I was tough, raising three kids and supporting six people alone. What's more, my fellow musicians knew I really cared about them. I also helped a lot of people get started in studio work. My playing earned me respect, and the guys liked me because I liked and understood them. Of course, we all had our insider jokes about some of the untalented A&R men we had to work for. But on the other hand, it was a business like any other, something most musicians never get a chance to find out about. While we'd kid a little, time was money, so we got the job done. And for me, it was a compliment to be 'one of the guys'. In a way, prejudice against women is worse in the music business. Nevertheless, there were many fine female musicians in the 20's, 30's 40's through to the 60's, but noticeably, not in studio rhythm sections. Fine women musicians of this period were recognized and admired by the male musicians. But somehow, I think, the theatrical rock groups of the 80's changed the climate for serious female musicians, even though there's more and better female musicians than ever before. These women have their work cut out for them. But I do understand how tough it is out there now; it's gotten more complex for everyone - for both male and female. But music should not be a 'contest'; it's not really what good music is about, is it? There are many fine, serious male musicians who love to play with great female musicians, and the combination is great. I admire today's female musicians, they are tougher than I was. But, in contrast, I cannot stand the type of female who bawls because she can't get a 'chance' and worries more about her nails than digging-in to play well. You've got to give up something if you really want to play. Music has always been my life - along with raising my little kids - and its rewards are universal. Maybe I swore too much, trying to impress the guys, but I'm not ashamed of anything I did.

Some modern bassists denigrate the current young thrash trend of 'flailing' at the bass with a pick. However, many older jazz guitarists from the 50's also declared three and four-chord pop styles as 'crude throwbacks', yet today's sophisticated music trends emerged from this. Do you see a parallel here?

Most bassists have no idea how to play with a pick, and usually wind up with a trashy 'hit or miss' cluttered technique that doesn't sound good or work well. My students who've studied playing with the pick get great sounds, fine, fast techniques and do well. I believe today's music trends have got more to do with political, economic and environmental fears, along with technical instrument developments, than with following the preceding music trends; it's so widespread and tied up with multitudes of styles and rebellions. I think the underlying fear for our future, with the huge environmental problems that face us now is causing a lot of unspoken communication world-wide.

What music do you like to listen to now? What do you like to play?

The old stuff: 30's, 40's and 50's pop; Latin and jazz; and some of the new to keep in touch with what's happening. Love Annie Lennox, Bolton. I occasionally listen, with much nostalgia for our people, to some hits and movies we cut in the late 50's, 60's and 70's. Didn't even care to get gold records. Putting out a good product was the most important, not medals. These days, I hardly play at all; my hands, neck and back are too far gone, but it's O.K.. I enjoy listening to others; it's their turn. And Sting - you know, he kindly mentioned me on the Arsenio Hall Show; he said he learned to play the bass from my books.

Who are your current favorites in bass players?

John ______, Dizzy Gillespie's bassist; Ron Carter; Ray Brown; Al McKibbon; Bobby Haynes; John Heard; LeRoy Vinnegar; Steve Swallow; Frank De La Rosa; Gene Cherico; Rolly Bundock; and bassist/singer of 'Chicago'; and Mo Foster.

Which bass players in the past influenced you the most? Red Mitchell; Scot LaFaro; Ray Brown; Monty Budwig; Ralph Pena; LeRoy Vinnegar; Curtice Counce; Al McKibbon; Ray Leatherwood; Don Bagley; Red Calendar; Cliff Hills, one of Los Angeles' 50's jazzers; and first husband, Al Kaye.

As a bass player, what was the worst experience of your life? Trying to play corny dance jobs while trying to keep my low-cut dress up for decency as some condescending, rich males talked about the 'cute' girl in the band. Also, when I played a live Christmas private gig in 1981 at Ma Maison in West Hollywood, watching some famous stars dance on a string, being robots for some big producer honcho who seemed to relish his power over them, dictating how the party went, while the real talent, Orson Welles, sat quietly in a corner away from them, ignoring the jive. I left Hollywood for good after that. Even the drummer and the pianist were 'oohing' and 'aahing' over the stars, totally unaware of the pretensions.

You have a more-than-average overview of the music scene, to say the least. Any 'pithy' life lessons to give to today's bassists?

Develop your own style. Don't have a chip on your shoulder but do try to look for the good in any situation, maybe even kidding about it. Don't treat someone like a god, but learn, practice, experience. Showing-off is fun, but don't let it be your permanent stance. Always try to do the right thing without ingratiating yourself. Good music is appreciated; and if you have nothing to say in a solo, wait. Better to say nothing than to be a phony. And remember, it's O.K. to make money playing music - never feel guilty about that. The music experiences I had were truly golden, working with the finest talents in the world. It was a good business that gave me the money to raise my kids so that they wouldn't have the wrenching poverty struggle I had. And I am proud to say they grew up to be moral, good, successful people, a real plus to the world. I'm happy what bass playing has brought me. I cherish my family, good friends and the many fans and fine ex-students out in the world.

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