Those who remember the firery, hard-swinging, uncompromising, perfectionist known as “the world’s greatest drummer” may be in for a surprise after perusing the following.

Before moving on, however, bear in mind that Buddy Rich was, for a good part of his career, as much a part of show business as he was a part of jazz. As a sideman with the orchestras of Bunny Berigan, Artie Shaw, Tommy Dorsey and Harry James, part of his job description was playing shows, backing star singers and dancers, drumming for floor shows, etc. All of that was just part of the gig, plain and simple. Even a glance at a detailed Coltrane itinerary shows that, in the course of a nightclub gig, the tenor genius had to play for a floor show.

How times have changed, and I don’t know if it’s for the better. Cutting shows, as it used to be called, was a marvelous learning experience for all players. Presumably, that just no longer applies today.

The following list does not claim to be complete, only representative of some real showbiz greats and near-greats who you never would think of as on the same bandstand–or in the same radio studio– as Buddy Rich.

These were before the days when another drummer was brought in to play for the “name.” In those days, Buddy played for one and all.

Unless otherwise noted, the following are Tommy Dorsey radio broadcasts featuring Buddy Rich at the drums:

WIth Red Skelton in the film “Ship Ahoy”: 12/41
With Dinah Shore:9/29/42
With Spike Jones: 9/29/42
With Lucille Ball: 11/42 and 9/10/45, the latter in the film “Dubarry Was a Lady.”
With Gene Kelly: As above.
With Bing Crosby: 6/18/44
With Gracie Fields: 9/25/44
With Rudy Vallee: 7/10/44
With Al Jolson: 7/23/44
With Jose Iturbi: 7/30/44
With Sophie Tucker: 8/6/44
WIth Phil Harris: 8/20/44
With Martha Raye: 9/10/44
WIth Eddie Cantor: 9/24/44
With DIck Powell: 10/8/44
With Paulette Goddard: 6/24/45
Janet Blair: 7/22/45
Shirley Booth: 9/2/45

Buddy Rich backed the following on the “Stage Show” television program that featured the Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey Orchestra:

With Johnnie Ray: 1/1/55
With Duke Ellington: As above
With Patti Page: 1/8/55
WIth Kate Smith: 3/12/55
WIth the McGuire Sisters: As above

On Eddie Condon’s “Floor Show” TV series:
With Sidney Bechet: 3/19/49

More trivia:
The history books have always read that Buddy Rich’s “bass drum experiment” was a “one time only” situation which took place at the Paramount Theater on February 22, 1949, when the Rich crew was on the bill with Mel Torme’. In fact, Buddy reprised his two bass drum feature on the Condon television program two more times: Playing “Old Man River” as he did at the Paramount on March 3, 1949; and on the tune “Heat Wave” on April 2, 1949.

And finally, though many, would-be future jazz greats got their starts in Buddy’s big bands from 1966 through 1986, perhaps none became a bigger star than trumpter Chris Botti, who sat in the Rich trumpet section from December of 1984 through March of the following year.

I look forward to receiving your questions, comments and additions to this list.

Herman DeJong is really, as they say, “putting on all the pots” on behalf of his fellow statesman, Dutch pianist Peter Beets. DeJong plans a mini-tour of Philadelphia jazz clubs for Beets on June 19th, including The 23rd Street Cafe’, Chris’, and the new Orlieb’s jazz club. No doubt the pianist will be asked to sit-in. Herman has also arranged several, all-important, private get-togethers that will feature Beets.

Accompanying the pianist at the Philadelphia Museum of Art concert on Friday, June 22, are two of the best players anywhere–and I’m certain they’ll provide inspiring backing–bassist Lee Smith and drummer Dan Monaghan. Listed as possible, “surprise” sitters-in are area players Frank McKitty,Geoff Gallante and Alan Lewine.

Joe Morello, one of the greatest and most famous drummers of his time, died on March 12. He was 82.

On purely a technical basis, he was the equal of Buddy Rich and Louie Bellson. In terms of fame, he was a member of what could have been described, at the time, as the jazz equivalent of The Beatles: The Dave Brubeck Quartet. Morello was with Brubeck from 1956 until 1967. Dave Brubeck’s group was among the most famous in jazz, even
appealing to those who might have not liked jazz before or since.

Much of this was due to Morello. It was Paul Desmond’s composition, “Take Five,” featuring Morello’s soloing, that was said to be the first, million-selling record in jazz history. And he won the prestigious Down Beat magazine poll as “Number One Drummer” in 1962, 1963 and 1964.

Born in Springfield, Massachusetts, in 1928, he first played violin before switching to percussion. He played in the New England area with the likes of Phil Woods, Sal Salvador, and in 1950, the big band of Glen Gray. Morello moved to New York City in 1952, making a name for himself in jazz circles with the groups of Johnny Smith, Gil Melle, and briefly with Stan Kenton. His three years with pianist Marian McPartland’s trio, a group based at the Hickory House in New York City, from 1954 to 1956, really put him on the map. In 1956, he joined Brubeck.

From the start, Morello didn’t have it easy. Though reports vary, it has been said that he was close to being blind for years. He lost whatever limited sight he had in 1976.

Things with Brubeck also were not always easy. He clashed with alto saxophonist Desmond initially. Morello and his solos quickly became audience favorites, which did not thrill Desmond at all. Musically, Brubeck, bless his heart, had a tendency to rush, and it was up to Morello and bassist Gene Wright, who “locked in” no matter what was happening, to keep Brubeck in tow.

Though Morello easily adapted to Brubeck’s use of odd time signatures, the fact was, when the tune called for it, Joe could swing that band into bad health. Listen to “Pennies from Heaven” on the Quartet’s 1963 album recorded live at Carnegie Hall. You could swear it was Buddy Rich back there.

Joe Morello was probably the most famous teacher in drumming history. He toured extensively as a clinician for the Ludwig Drum Company, and Ludwig published many of Joe’s method books. How Ludwig let him go is beyond me. In the 1960s, two drummers were responsible for selling thousands of Ludwig sets: Ringo to the would-be rockers, and Joe Morello to the jazz students.

He was one of the prime exponents of the controversial concept of “finger control”—whereby the movement and velocity of sticking is controlled by the fingers—and his many, many students swore by him. The great Danny Gottleib, possibly Joe’s most famous student, idolized him. When I caught up with Dan in Philadelphia about ten years ago—he was backing the great jazz singer, Chris Connor—all he could talk about was Joe. He even offered to sponsor me if I studied with Morello.

Despite his blindness, he remained very, very active in the post-Brubeck years. There were a few reunions with Brubeck, Marian McPartland and Sal Salvador, the participation in one of the first “Burnin’ for Buddy” tribute recordings, a bunch of local gigs in the northern New Jersey area, and a very busy teaching practice.

Joe Morello was interviewed many times through the years in jazz and percussion journals, and always came off as a modest, self-effacing artist, though aware of his influence and place in history. He knew that the problems with his sight may have limited the scope of his career—if only because he couldn’t take heavy reading gigs—but he was never bitter.

For those not familiar with his playing, I urge you to check out his work with Brubeck, and on film and video via “Legends of Jazz Drumming,” “Classic Drum Solos and Drum Battles,” and “Jo Jones and the Drum Stars.” All are available here.

If anyone personified the title, “Legend of Jazz Drumming,” it was Joe Morello. He was one of the great ones.

Many of you know that the past few years have not been great ones personally or professionally. Things are starting to improve on all fronts slightly. I am doing a good bit of writing for Jazz Times (be sure to log on the JazzTimes.com and go to the “community articles” section to see a bunch of neat stuff), Modern Drummer magazine (we’re talking about doing profiles of Marty Morrell and Nick Fatool as among my 2011 projects), and have another new CD release out with the marvelous Fresh Sound Records.

The Fresh Sound release is the “entire” Jazz at the Philharmonic concert of September, 1952, that highlighted by the legendary Krupa/Rich drum battle. It has been issued in bits and pieces though the years on LP and CD, but this is the whole show. Completely remastered with comprehensive notes, the original program and actual, 1952 reviews of the show, the CD also has bonus tracks by Billie Holiday, Buddy Rich and another unissued JATP program featuring Max Roach, Flip Phillips and the gang. If it were not for Jordi Pujol and his colleagues at Fresh Sound, thousands of hours of incomparable music would be lost. I urge everyone to visit them on the web at www.FreshSound.com. You won’t believe what you’ll find there.

In line with the difficulties of the past year or two, there was a point where JazzLegends.com was close to being history. But, due to your patience, support and understanding, we are now more than afloat. I am filling orders, depending on size, the day they come in, and those of you who have ordered recently know that if something isn’t right, I’ll make it right, with replacement copies and some gratis product included as a way of thanks. In line with “new” recordings here—though it won’t be officially posted for a while—courtesy of Paul Testa we have a great audio recording of Krupa on the “Dave Garroway at Large” radio program of the 1950s. There’s some comedy, some drum instruction, and as Paul has said, is likely the only example we have of Gene playing on a practice pad. To order, just other anything else we have, and in the messages section, type in “Garroway.”

As hard as I try, it is impossible to satisfy all of the people all of the time. Although complaints have been few and far between in the 10 or so years JazzLegends has been on the air, one of the things I hear from time to time is that some customers have expected a factory sealed, commercial issue of a CD or a DVD complete with artwork and booklet. Let me stress this again: Nothing we have is available commercially. If a CD or DVD that we carry is newly issued commercially and domestically—and I don’t see that happening soon—I immediately pull it from the site. Our material, some of it going back to the 1920s, is, by and large, either non-commercial, private footage from concerts, television and films; or is in the public domain, long out-of-print or out-of-copyright. Much of the material comes from overseas. The DVDs and CDs are packaged in a white, paper sleeve, with the title hand-printed on the CD. I found out long ago that those stick-on labels I used for so long caused a lot of problems in the playback process. CDs come with art. DVDs do not. In that we have, and will continue to offer, free shipping all over the world, no matter how large or small the order, and that tracking down this vintage stuff has not happened cheaply, “bells and whistles” packaging is not an option. If that’s what you’re after, go to Tower Records. Oops. There is no more Tower Records. I hope this makes things clear.

Some tidbits since the last time we spoke: As far as I know, the famed, Academy Award-winning documentary on Artie Shaw is still not available commercially. The one on Anita O’Day is, but because of lack of funds and support, almost no one knows about it, which is terribly sad but not surprising. I wish someone like Hudson Music, Alfred Publishing or V.I.E.W. Video would pick it up to distribute it properly. You may want to check Amazon.com about its availability.

There is a great new book out for anyone interested in drums or drumming. The legendary Lennie DiMuzio, the go-to artist relations guy at Zildjian for years who now serves in a similar capacity at Sabian, has written a funny, touching, eye-opening and comprehensive book about his life in the industry: “Tales from the Cymbal Bag,” published by Jump Back Baby Productions, is the title, and it’s a must have. For details, check out the review on JazzTimes.com. “Tales from the Cymbal Bag” is available at dozens of web sites worldwide.

Finally, and this isn’t big news to anyone, but the “officially sanctioned” Gene Krupa model drumsticks are out of production. At times, the process of getting this off the ground was simultaneously joyous and frustrating, but the bottom line is, that unless a company has the wherewithal to spend mega-bucks in advertising, promotion and PR, success will be difficult. Like everything Chris Bennett did and does at Bopworks—and Chris really did all the work—the product was superior. But, as someone once said, “Maybe it ain’t over yet.”

Also reviewed on JazzTimes.com is a new book about Louis Prima, Keely Smith and the heyday of Las Vegas, written by Tom Clavin and called “Louis Prima, Keely Smith and the Golden Age of Las Vegas” (Chicago Review Press). It’s received a lot of ink lately, and I don’t know why. It relies, for the most part on material that was previously published, with the only really original stuff coming from the likes of Connie Stevens, Shecky Greene, Debbie Reynolds, and one or two others who hardly knew Louis or Keely. The story that the self-serving Reynolds tells about “impersonating” Keely for a week because Smith was ill—and that know one ever knew about it—is beyond ridiculous. And more inaccuracies abound.

The great Gia Maione, the final Mrs. Prima, and most dedicted to his legacy—she is the keeper of the Louis Prima flame via the LouisPrima.com website and other activities–should have been a journalist. She’s getting there! Like a precious few in the business, she will not tolerate false information, inaccuracy and/or those who lack integrity, whatever their field. For a number of reasons, Gia is deservedly not happy with this work, and some of her comments, I hope, show up in the print version of Jazz Times and/or on the JazzTimes.com web site.

If you want to read about Louis Prima, try and get a copy of the book written by Garry Boulard in 1986. Another edition came out in 2002. The official title is “Just a Gigolo: The Life and Times of Louis Prima. The original publisher was The Center for Louisiana Studies, a relatively small outfit, which is possibly the reason that few have heard of this essential work. Boulard conducted a bunch of first-person interviews with people who were essential to the lives and careers of Louis, Keely, and Gia as well. Better yet, go to the www.LouisPrima.com site. It’s no surprise that Clavin’s new book cribs liberally from Boulard’s work. It’s a cut-and-paste job from top to bottom, but if it inspires more interest in the music of the principals, then it has served some valuable purpose.

You won’t find a lot of quotes in any book, or in the documentary films on Louis, from the man himself. From what little I know, his personal thoughts and feelings were not for broadcast or publication. That is how gentlemen used to behave, and had there been an “Oprah Winfrey Show” on television during the lifetime of Louis Prima, I doubt whether he would ever consent to appear as a guest. I think that only two things were really important to him: family and music. And that’s how it should have been.

I had, at one-time, a vested interest in the music of Louis, Keely and Gia, too. I sang and played his music in clubs for years, with varying results. In 1978, I recorded a note-for-note remake of Louis’ legendary “Just a Gigolo,” which was going to be released on the record label owned by Robert Stigwood of “Grease” and “Saturday Night Fever” fame. The timeless Sam Butera arrangement was produced for me by industry hit-maker Andy Kahn, best known for composing, producing and engineering the number one disco record of 1978, “Hot Shot.” Due to the almost overnight bust of the disco bubble, my version was never released. Rocker David Lee Roth did it six years later and sold millions. Those in the business tell me he didn’t copy from Louis’ version, but from ours! Believe me, had he heard the original, his version would have been much better.

Keely Smith, as of this writing, is said to be still recording and making public appearances from time to time. I wish Gia Maione would do the same.

The loss of drummer Jake Hanna was a blow to the world of percussion. If you want to hear how drums should be played in a big band, listen to Hanna’s work with the early 1960s Woody Herman Herd. No one played like him, and as the story goes, other than Dave Tough, Hanna was the only drummer in Herman history to be accorded complete freedom—to play in any way he saw fit—by the leader himself. And talk about a character! There was only one, and I do owe him a debt of thanks for introducing me to drinking a “Black and Tan” at The Irish Pub in Atlantic City, at 6 a.m., circa 1986.

We’ve lost a host of others recently as well, including the irreplaceable James Moody, Philadelphia piano icon Sid Simmons and organist/pianist Trudy Pitts. Trudy was a friend—she was friends to dozens of us here in Philadelphia—and she never really got the credit she deserved. Guitarist Pat Martino, among others, started his recording career with her, and her sidemen on some early dates included names like Roland Kirk and John Coltrane. Ultimately, family was more important to her, and she gave up the road life. Fortunately, she had a bunch of long-running playing and teaching gigs locally, and was always supported by her loving husband and drummer “Mr. C.”, aka Bill Carney. An essential part of the Philadelphia music scene is now gone. Trudy Pitts was loved by all of us.

My dear colleague from the UK, Peter Brightman, who has been so helpful and encouraging to me through the years—and by way of his is encouragement, has helped keep JazzLegends.com afloat– came up with a nifty and rather generous idea some months ago. If you visit our “Community” pages, and I hope you do, Peter has helped institute a “Donations” icon, whereby those who click on it can donate to the JazzLegends.com cause.

As far as I can determine, everyone—in some way, shape or form—has felt the effect of the economic downturn. Even the wealthy have lost tons of bread, though I don’t stay up nights worrying about them. In times like this, music and almost everything entertainment-related are the first jobs to get cut. Advertising dollars have been slashed to the minimum, resulting in magazines and newspapers fighting for survival. All the free stuff on the net has taken a bite out of those who play music, record music or write and produce DVDs. Six-piece bands have been cut to duos. Duos have been replaced by disc jockeys. In Philadelphia, we now have only one, full-time jazz club, with the decades-old Ortleib’s closing last year and Zanzibar Blue the year before. I cannot tell you the number of people I know in the industry who have been laid off or simply let go.

Human beings, however, have proven to be remarkably adaptable and resilient people. That’s why we’re still here. I’m still here as well and I intend in continue in my attempt to make a contribution to music history and jazz scholarship with JazzLegends.com and other projects.

Keep swingin’
Bruce Klauber

Philadelphia has been suffering
through its worst winter in history. Right now, I’m looking out at about five
feet of snow, and given the size
of this property, I’ll likely be holed
up here for several more days.
That’s but one of the reason for
delays in orders. But remember,
we do specify two-to-four weeks’
delivery, as each item is custom
duplicated in real time.

Those of you who haven’t ordered
the Krupa at Newport CD
should get it as soon as possible.
Though there are a bunch of airshots
of this quartet–Gene, Ronnie Ball,
Jimmy Gannon and Eddie Wasserman–mainly emanating from the London
House, none are as good as this.
Gene was really “on,” perhaps
because this was a large and
appreciative crowd, and the
locale was not a saloon (as much
as Gene did love The London
House).

Those few of you who continue
to order via mail-order, please be
aware that two crucial factors
have changed: We can no longer
accept checks, only cash or
money orders. Secondly, our
mailing address has changed. It
is now 8500 Henry Avenue / PMB
116, Philadelphia, PA 19128.

I have received no further word
about what will hopefully be the
commercial release of the 1985
documentary on Artie Shaw, “Time
is all You’ve Got.” It certainly
does deserve a wide release,
if only to help fill in the gaps of
what we don’t know–or only
heard about–this enigmatic
genius. He may bave been an
eccentric, but boy, he sure
could play that clarinet. Likely
better than anyone. We have
mentioned this before, but it
bears repeating: JazzLegends.com
will NOT be making this title
available at any time, but we will
be happy to let you know when
it is released and where you can
purchase a copy.

Those of you who read Jazz Times
magazine may have noticed that
I am now contributing reviews
and features. This is something
I’ve wanted to do for some
years. JT’s legacy of contributors–Martin Williams, Leonard Feather, Nat
Hentoff and many more–constitute
exalted company. Be sure to
log on to their superb website,
JazzLegends.com, for plenty of
reviews, interviews, news and
profiles that you won’t see
in print.

Those of you who pay attention
to such things may have heard
some noise about JazzLegends.com
being up for sale. The truth is,
I am seriously considering selling
the domain name. The sale would
not include the vintage audio and
video collection, which would
still be offered to the industry.
If anyone out there is interested or
knows someone who is, please
email me at DrumAlive@aol.com.

The Philaelphia / Atlantic City
area has lost a wonderful saxophonist
and entertainer. Jackie Jordan died
in Atlantic City at the age of 71
not long ago, and personally and
professionally, he will be missed.

Jack was one of legion of Atlantic
City-based players who was more
R&B and Louis Prima than pure
jazz–Michael Pedicin, Sr. was
another–but man, he swung.

I spent many hours playing with
Jackie and his wonderful groups,
many times at “after hour’s”
spots (do they still have those?)
until 4 a.m.

I did a piece on Jackie once for
the late and lamented Atlantic
City Magazine, and I asked him
to describe his style.

“I play happy music, Bruce,” was
his reply.

Indeed he did.

GREG CAPUTO: KEEPER OF THE BIG BAND FLAME

Greg Caputo is a talented, versatile and swinging drummer with credits that include everyone from Basie and James to Goodman and Shaw. His academic credentials are impeccable as well. He’s a Hartford Conservatory of Music graduate and studied privately with Alan Dawson, Joe Morello and Jim Chapin.

Caputo even sat in for an ailing Gene Krupa a concert in the early 1970s. Above all, he uses his experience, credits and talents to preserve and perpetuate the big band jazz tradition.

“Classic Swing with a Modern Drive” is a brand new CD by Caputo’s big band, with altoist Phi Woods and vocalist Viv Murray as special guests. Recording a straight-ahead, 16-piece big band CD in 2009? Talk about dedication.

As a whole, it works beautifully. The band swings, and peerlessly tackles vintage stuff like “Sing Sing Sing” and “We’ll Git It,” as well as the complexity of Buddy Rich charts like “Nutville” and “Mexicali Nose.” Ensemble-wise, there’s not a note out of place, but under Caputo’s leadership from the drum chair, there’s nothing stiff about this. The venerable “Shiny Stockings” is the essence of relaxed swing. Certainly, the Basie feel sounds easy, and that is as it should be. It is not, however, easy to play.

Solo-wise, everyone involved is a champ. Phil Woods? He’s still got it.

Congratulations to Gregory Caputo for his tireless work as an educator, percussionist, bandleader, and now, recording artist.

If Basie were around, he might say something like “The Gregory Caputo Big Band is the last word in big bands today.”

For ordering information and other details about Caputo, visit his web site at: www.GregoryCaputo.com

GENE KRUPA AT NEWPORT

Unless one was prone to do a lot of digging, few knew that the Gene Krupa quartet made an appearance at the 1959 Newport Jazz Festival. In fact, until very recently, it was understood that Gene made only two, Newport appearances, one at the inaugural 1954 bash, and again in 1972 at what was called Newport in New York.

Courtesy of an online music company named Wolfgang’s Vault, owned and operated by Bill Sagan, a good deal of previously undiscovered Newport material is coming to light, including Krupa’s 1959 appearance. Others at the fest, by the way, included the likes of Herbie Mann, Thelonious Monk, Basie and many others, and the recordings were made in pristine stereo direct from Newport stage mikes. Not all sets are complete, though we should be thrilled to have what we have.

No one knows exactly who recorded this material, says a recent New York TImes piece by Ben Ratcliff, and although Voice of America’s Willis J. Conover introduces some of the acts, Ratcliff maintains that VOA could not have taped the shows, as Voice of America’s various Newport tapes were done in mono.

It was suggested that record companies did the recording, but that’s hard to believe, in that around 10 different companies would have had to be involved.

Krupa may have been invited that year in conjunction with the upcoming release of the film about his life, and/or to hype the release of his “Big Noise From WInnetka” LP, as well as the Krupa story soundtrack album.

This version of the quartet, with pianist Ronnie Ball, bassist Jimmy Gannon and reedman Eddie Wasserman, was said to be amongst Gene’s favorites of all his small groups. Fans have had mixed opinons.

The classically trained Wasserman–also one of the biggest contractors on the New York scene in the 1950s and 1960s–was fluent on flute, clarinet and tenor, and brought quite the cool sound into the band. Ronnie Ball, who studied for quite some time with Lennie Tristano, was also quite the modernist. Gene made good use of Wasserman’s versatility, featuring him often on all three horns. What Wasserman didn’t have, say some fans, was the free wheeling swing of a Ventura or Eddie Shu.
But it was a good group, and lasted for a good five or so years before Charlie Ventura returned to the fold circa 1963.

The Krupa Newport tapes, which we hope to make available on CD at some juncture, include versions of “World on a String,” “Lover Man” (one would think Krupa would come on with stronger material) and “Sweet Georgia Brown.”

Who knows what else will surface in the future?

Jazz V.I.E.W.

Bob Karcy may not have “invented” the concept of the jazz video, but then again, when he founded V.I.E.W. Video in 1980, he was certainly the first to issue jazz concerts and other jazz-oriented filmed material on home video.

Almost 10 years later, Karcy is very much at it, with an expansive catalog of jazz on DVD, as well as classical music, opera, documentaries, pop, educational films, and rare television shows. In the jazz realm, featured artists include everyone from Freddie Hubbard and Louie Bellson to Billy Cobham and a newly-discovered opus from the underrated songstress, Damita Jo.

Karcy also presides over the critically acclaimed and award-winning Arkadia jazz C label. V.I.E.W. is not resting on its considerable laurels and impressive list of products. New and rare material surfaces regularly, and I urge all JazzLegends.com visitors to visit www.VIEW.com and see what this innovative, creative outfit is up to these days.

Drummers of a certain age have their lists of undiscovered, video “holy grails,” which usually include Buddy Rich playing two bass drums at the Paramount Theater in 1949, Gene Krupa’s performance with the Benny Goodman band at Carnegie Hall in 1938, and the Buddy Rich/Gene Krupa drum battle at Jazz at the Philharmonic in 1952.

While these legendary moments have long been available on audio, no filmed images have surfaced, save for some newsreel footage of the Goodman band shot at Carnegie Hall during the actual concert.

These days, however, more and more “never thought to have existed” pieces of video have come to light, so it’s entirely possible that Buddy’s two bass drum bit and the Krupa/Rich duel may be out there somewhere. It is very, very doubtful that any more footage of the 1938 Carnegie Hall concert exists.

There are two meetings of Gene and Buddy on film–from television shows broadcast in 1966 and 1971–but the “original drum battle,” which first took place at Carnegie Hall on September 13, 1952, is considered to be “the real thing.”

In the course of researching a recently published piece on the two great drummers for Jazz Times magazine, and an essay on Gene and Buddy prepared in conjunction for a reissue of some of their material, some very curious pieces of information have come to light.

This info may perhaps lead the way to discovering another Krupa/Rich pairing, whether on film or audio.

“The Original Drum Battle, as it came to be known, took place at the kick off of what was the 12th National Tour of Norman Granz’ Jazz at the Philharmonic. Most of the JATP dates had early and late shows, and Granz, as was his wont in those days, likely recorded them all.

In fact, Billie Holiday actually appeared as a guest star during the early show, singing “Lover Man.” Some 57 years after this happened, a professional recording of it has just come to light. Certainly, there was another drum battle in performed that evening, and at JATP dates in Long Beach, CA and Hawaii, where Krupa and Rich were on the bill.

There’s another possibility: The January, 1953, opening of Broadway’s newest jazz club of the time, the Bandbox, was quite the gala, with a bill that included the trios of Krupa, Buddy Rich, and according to some reports, the Oscar Peterson Trio as well.

Since the demise of his big band in 1951, Krupa re-formed his famed Jazz Trio with pianist Teddy Napoleon and saxophonist Charlie Ventura. It proved to be quite the attraction, and Krupa traveled regularly with that unit when not on a JATP tour. And yes, Gene played without a bass until English bassist John Drew joined Krupa in 1954 at the insistance of Eddie Shu, making the trio into a quartet.

For whatever reason, Buddy Rich was using the same, bass-less format around 1953, with additional trio members being pianist Hank Jones, who sometimes doubled on organ; and star JATP tenor man Flip Phillips. This unit recorded for Granz’ Clef label in December of 1952, and a month earlier, with pianist Lou Levy in for Hank Jones, “The JATP Trio,” as it was called, worked a week at a Denver Club called Rossonian’s.

Was Buddy Rich one-third of a tenor/piano/drums trio without a bass because of the popularity of Gene’s bass-less trio? Or was it a matter of economics? Or at the Bandbox, maybe a simple matter of space? Who knows?

What we do know is that both units broadcast regularly from the club, and that two of these broadcasts were issued on obscure record labels. The Japanese Ozone label released the Krupa set (with pianist Teddy Napoleon identified as his brother Marty on the album’s cover), and the Joyce Music company released something called “One Night Stand with the Flip Phillips/Buddy Rich Trio.” Charlie Shavers, part of the recent JATP tour, was on hand to sit in on “Bugle Call Rag.”

Rich spent a good time at the Bandbox after this date, playing with his own group and sitting in with other acts on the bill like Harry James. Indeed, as a result of the James/Rich get together at the club in March of 1953, Buddy joined the James big band. He would be in and out of the James group until Rich formed his own unit in 1966.

As for Krupa, life after the Bandbox was pretty much the same as it was before, which included regular tours with JATP, recordings in various combinations for Norman Granz, and many gigs in the JATP off-season with a trio that by then included multi-instrumentalist Eddie Shu.

Although there is no recorded documentation on hand thus far, there is evidence that Buddy and Gene continued their battles from time to time through 1957. At joint, 1956 radio interview with the Voice of America’s Willis J. Conover, the two drummers spoke of how they felt about the battles, as well as an upcoming JATP show where they were both set to appear.

On November 1, 1956, they went into the studio with a group of JATP All-Stars, recording an LP called “Krupa and Rich.” Strangely, Gene and Buddy only play together on one tune, with the rest of the tracks featuring one drummer or the other.

Their last in-studio meeting did not come off as well as they could have, and was also something of an oddity, recording-wise. In the 1962 LP, “Burnin’ Beat,” Rich and Krupa were not actually in the studio together. Rich dubbed his parts in, a situation clearly heard in two, unreleased tracks, “Flyin’ Home” and “Wham.” It’s a shame these two greats didn’t take an occasion like this more seriously.b

Sammy Davis, Jr. played host to the mighty two on a 1966 broadcast of his ABC television program. Sadly, Gene was clearly not well that night. Buddy Rich took that opportunity to wipe the floor with him.

The last, on-camera meeting that we know of took place on Oceober 12, 1971. The occasion was a Canadian television special hosted by Lionel Hampton. Buddy Rich came out at the very end of the program to participate in a four-way drum duel featuring Hamp, Krupa, Rich and Mel Torme’. Gene Krupa came off very well in his brief exchanges.

WIth the death of Gene Krupa in 1973 and Buddy Rich in 1987, the battles were over forever.

JazzLegends.com is pleased to announce the discovery of an incredibly rare and musically astounding Jazz at the Philharmonic show, recorded live in absolutely superb fidelity, in Stockholm on April 28, 1957. The principals–Roy Eldridge, Stuff Smith, Oscar Peterson, Herb Ellis, Ray Brown, the one and only “Papa”Jo Jones, and Ella Fitzgerald (backed by Don Abeny, Ray Brown and Papa Jo)–are all in unbelievable form. Truth be told, in terms of playing and actual sound quality, this is the best I’ve ever heard Roy, Ella and Papa Jo. Before hearing this show, I can tell you that I never really heard what these giants must have really sounded like in person. And yes, Jo takes a rare and fabulous extended outing. Stuff Smith? What can you say?

Eldridge plays “Undecided,” “Embraceable You,” sings and plays “School Days,” “Lester Leaps In” featuring Jo on drums, and is joined by Smith on fiddle on “Moonlight in Vermont” and “Bugle Call Rag.”

Songs on the full-length Fitzgerald set are “You’ve Got Me Singing the Blues,” “Angel Eyes,” “Lullaby of Birdland,” “Tenderly,” “April in Paris,” “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love,” “Love for Sale” and a finale of “It Don’t Mean a Thing.”

I’ve heard mostly all the released–and a few unreleased–JATP shows through the years. This is one of the best. And audio-wise, you would think you were there. Announcements by Norman Granz.

Almost 75 minutes of rare and marvelous music. “Jo at JATP” is not yet posted on the JazzLegends.com site, but you can get an advance copy now by ordering any other item we have, and in the “messages” section, indicate “Jo at JATP.”

“Papa” Jo is one of the site’s more popular artists. He should be. Be aware that this is the best title there is.

Wherever and whenever live music is played—in Naples, Florida, or otherwise—people of a certain age will often request a song made famous by the late and great Louis Prima.

Last season in Naples at The Cafe’ on Fifth Avenue, when I had the privilege of playing with the great trumpter Bob Zottola, a customer approached me and requested that we do something by Louis.

Zottola, to his eternal and idealistic credit, is a music guy, not an entertainment guy, but wanted to honor the customer’s request.

Knowing I sang and played pretty much the complete Prima repertoire through the years—“if you want to make a dollar, you’ve got to make them holler,” has long been my credo–Bob asked me, “Is there anything like a tasteful Louis Prima song?”

“No, unfortunately, there isn’t,” I told Bob.

Louis was never a darling of the jazz critics.

We did “Oh Marie” anyway and the crowd loved it. Bob was really cooking on that one. It couldn’t be helped.

Prima’s sound was and is an electrifying, timeless and swinging one that transcended labels, genres, timelines or categories. In his early days, Louis was a good, traditionally oriented trumpeter and singer out of the Louis Armstrong mold, but as time went on, he moved farther and father away from jazz into the world of entertainment.

Indeed, via his group in Las Vegas that featured vocalist Keely Smith, to whom he was married from 1953 to 1961, he made one of the biggest splashes in entertainment history in the Vegas lounges, on records, and in clubs throughout the country. Along with the architect of the Prima sound –the recently-departed saxophonist Sam Butera—the Prima book combined elements of Dixieland jazz, early rhythm and blues, the Italian jive novelties he had been doing for years, plus the deadpan vocals of Keely, to fashion an eclectic and singular sound that has never been duplicated. Many have tried, included Sonny and Cher, who basically lifted the Louie and Keely act, updated it and tried to make it their own,

Prima continued, with varying degrees of success and with changes in music policy—he was almost doing a rock and roll show at one point in later years—until he lapsed into a coma in October of 1975. He died in August, 1978.

Prima’s drummer on and off since the early 1940s was a superb player by the name of Jimmy Vincent, who died on April 15, 2002.

You can hear Vincent wailing away on some of Louis’ most famous songs, including “Jump Jive and Wail,” “Just a Gigolo” and all of the rest.

Vincent also had a good deal of success with another, semi-famed, Las Vegas-based lounge group called “The Goofers.” Drum fans, in particular, may remember Vincent appearing in ads for the Slingerland Drum Company, where he was wearing a monkey mask.

Vincent never cared about critics. If you wear a monkey mask while playing the drums, that’s obvious. But Buddy Rich, among well-known players, is said to have loved him. No one could play the shuffle beat like Jimmy Vincent.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, singer Joy Adams and I were waiting for a cab to pick us up at our Philadelphia home to take us to the airport. We were flying to Las Vegas to get together with drummer Jimmy Vincent, who was to be interviewed and featured in a Hudson Music DVD, which then had the working title of “Roots of Roll Drumming.” Eventually, it was released as “Classic Rock Drum Solos,” but the idea was the same, which was to trace the evolution of the drum solo as it ultimately applied to rock and roll,

Vincent was an important figure in this area, having helped pioneer and perfect the shuffle beat on drums, an important component of early rock.

At about 10 a.m., a few minutes before our taxi was scheduled to arrive in Philadelphia, Joy’s daughter, Lauren, called us at home. “Turn on the television, now,” she told her mother.

“What channel?” Joy asked.

“Any channel,” Lauren said.

There it was. The tragic bombing of the Word Trade Centers. Live, on television.

We didn’t believe what we were seeing.

The taxi had arrived to take us to the airport. My first thought was to call the airport to see if planes were still flying. Whomever answered the phone at the airport said that nothing had changed, Planes were still taking off.

They didn’t for long.

The trip to Vegas never happened and we never hooked up with Jimmy Vincent, who passed away about a year and one-half later.

“Classic Rock Solos” features an early, 1940s drum solo by a 16-year-old player by the name of Jimmy Vincent, tearing it up on a song written by his long-time boss, Louis Prima. The song’s title was “Sing Sing Sing.”

Bob Zottola has spoken often about doing that number when I come back to Naples.

I plan on it.

On May 30, 2009, Benny Goodman, a.k.a. “The King of Swing,” would have been 100 years old. There were and are several Goodman tributes, including a BBC Radio “Centenary” episode, concerts by Paquito D’Rivera, the Boston Symphony and a Lincoln Center “Jazz for Young People” show entitled “Who is Benny Goodman?”

There are several players and leaders out there who do ensure that the Goodman legacy continues. Ken Peplowski (who will do a Goodman tribute concert at The Rochester Jazz Festival on June 13), Brooks Tegler, and especially Loren Schoenberg — who could and should write the definitive Benny Goodman story—are three who immediately come to mind. And Schoenberg, by the way, paid tribute to BG, and Lester Young, via several, recent WGBO radio programs. While all this is great stuff, it seems to me that there should be more, given the scope of Benny Goodman’s fame and more than substantial contributions. But memories fade as time goes on, so maybe we should be thankful for any tributes at all.

As much a part of the Goodman legend, if there is such a thing, is the not-so-fondly-remembered issue of his personality. Though I don’t like getting involved in the personal lives of any celebrity, the Goodman “personality,” or lack of it, is just so darn amusing and very, very public, that it just cannot be ignored. Especially on BG’s 100th.

One of Goodman’s biographers, perhaps James Lincoln Collier (and whatever happened to him?) once pointed out that, in all probability, not a day goes by without a story being told about the enigmatic behavior of BG. (Buddy Rich stories are another issue.) Gene Lees’ essential “Jazzletter” devoted a bunch of past issues to what went down on the famed tour of Russia in 1962, and Bill Crow’s “Jazz Anecdotes” retold some of the more infamous stories.

The one I particularly like is the one told in the late, Peter Levinson’s great biography of Tommy Dorsey, published in 2005, entitled “Tommy Dorsey: Livin’ in a Great Big Way.”

As the story goes, BG was doing a gig somewhere on November 27, 1956, the day after Dorsey died. One of Goodman’s sidemen told Benny the news about TD’s tragic and unexpected death. “Benny, I hate to tell you this bad news, “ the sideman related, “but Tommy Dorsey just died.” The King’s reply? “Is that so?” he said. You’ve got to love it.

Another frequently-told story through the years that has again been making the rounds of the internet, is pianist/vocalist Dave Frishberg’s hilarious tale of the evening Goodman sat in with Gene Krupa’s Quartet at The Metropole Cafe’ in New York city. Track that one down. It’s a riot.

I haven’t related my personal Benny Goodman story in years. In line with the 100th birthday business, this seems like an appropriate time to retell it.

In the mid-1980s, I had the bright idea of writing a biography of Gene Krupa, which later became “World of Gene Krupa: That Legendary Drummin’ Man,” published in 1990 and still in print via Pathfinder Publishing of California. For an unpublished author writing about someone relatively forgotten back then, the project was an uphill battle from the start. Still, I forged ahead, and though a good deal of the book was a compilation of edited, previously published materials, I obviously had to get some first-person interviews to give the project some credibility. When I started, I had no publisher and not much of anything else, other than my credentials as a drummer and newspaper editor, but players like Teddy Wilson, Eddie Wasserman, Carmen Leggio, John Bunch, Charlie Ventura, and later, Mel Torme’ (who wrote a wonderful introduction to the book, where he revealed that Gene was, in fact, Goodman’s absolute, favorite drummer of all time) were just marvelous to me.

But it was always in the back of my mind that any book about Krupa just had to have an interview with one, Benjamin David Goodman.

My plan was this: Find the New York phone number and ask BG’s’ long-time secretary, who I believe was still Muriel Zuckerman, if there was a chance at setting up a future phone interview. Goodman’s office number was listed, and having heard all the stories about this strange guy through the years, and the fact that he remained one of my musical idols, I really had to get some serious courage going before I dialed the phone.

Zuckerman answered the telephone, and I did not misrepresent my credentials or the project’s status. “I’m writing a book about Gene Krupa,” I told her, “and I was just wondering…next to setting up an interview with God, how difficult would it be to set a time to do a five-minute phone interview with Mr. Goodman?”

Always the merry prankster, I thought injecting a bit of humor into the proceedings might help pave the way.

“You’d have a better chance with God,” Zuckerman replied, and then asked if she could put me on hold for a moment.

Several moments later, someone picked up a telephone extension and said, “Hello?”

The voice was instantly recognizable. It was “Him.” I was not prepared for this at all.

“Mr. Goodman, I’m writing a book about one of your friends and colleagues, Gene Krupa, and I was wondering if I could set up a time to talk to you over phone about him for a few minutes,” I related.

“Well…what kind of questions do you want to ask?” was BG’s reply.

Man, was I on the spot, as I had absolutely nothing prepared, but I thought I came up with something reasonably intelligent.

“I’ve always wanted to know something, Mr. Goodman,” I answered while stalling for time. “You played with Gene at the very beginning of his career, and you played with him at the very end. Maybe you could explain the difference in how he accompanied you through the years.”

I thought that was a great question, and I still do. I’ll remember Goodman’s comments until the day I die.

“He played pretty much the same,” he explained. “He was rather consistent. As you know, he started with me and then formed his own band, which was rather successful. When did you say he died?”

“He died in 1973,” I told him.

“How old was he when he died,” asked BG.

“He was 64 years old, Mr. Goodman.”

“My, that was rather young, wasn’t it? Goodbye.”

Click.

That’s my Benny Goodman story and it was printed, verbatim, in my Krupa book. Several Goodman fans were not happy about it.

When players like Teddy Wilson gave a sensitive and intelligent analysis about how Krupa functioned—and evolved—as an accompanist and a soloist through the years, Benjamin David Goodman could only relate that Krupa’s playing “was pretty much the same” over a 40-plus year span.

But as one wag –who heard all the stories and more through the years—once put it: “Yeah, but he sure could play that clarinet.”

Happy 100th and long live The King.