BLP 7027

George Lewis And His New Orleans Stompers - Volume 3

Released - 1955

Recording and Session Information

Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, NJ, April 8, 1955
Avery "Kid" Howard, trumpet, vocals; Jim Robinson, trombone; George Lewis, clarinet; Alton Purnell, piano, vocals; George Guesnon, banjo; Alcide "Slow Drag" Pavageau, bass; Joe Watkins, drums, vocals.

tk.8 Walking With The King
tk.9 Gettysburg March
tk.16 My Bucket's Got A Hole In It

Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, NJ, April 11, 1955
Avery "Kid" Howard, trumpet, vocals; Jim Robinson, trombone; George Lewis, clarinet; Alton Purnell, piano, vocals; George Guesnon, banjo; Alcide "Slow Drag" Pavageau, bass; Joe Watkins, drums, vocals.

tk.20 Mahogany Hall Stomp
tk.30 See See Rider Blues
tk.33 When You Wore A Tulip

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
Mahogany Hall Stomp	S. Williams	April 11 1955
See See Rider Blues	Ma Rainey	April 11 1955
When you Wore A Tulip	Wenrich-Mahoney	April 11 1955
Side Two
Gettysburg March	Traditional	April 8 1955
Bucket Got A Hole In It	Traditional	April 8 1955
Walking With the King	Traditional	April 8 1955

Liner Notes

AVERY "KID" HOWARD, trumpet; JIM ROBINSON, trombone; GEORGE LEWIS, clarinet; ALTON PURNELL, piano; GEORGE GUESNON, banjo; ALCIDE "SLOW DRAG" PAVAGEAU, bass; JOE WATKINS, drums.

THERE'S A STORY to this band, and it's right here — in the music they play. It's the New Orleans story, if you like, but it's really even more than that. In a sense, it's a story that re-writes the jazz legend, and makes you wonder what, after all, really makes this music go.

Picture a studio out in Hackensack, New Jersey. Picture seven men from New Orleans walking into that studio — most of them in their forties, two of them in their middle to late sixties. Some of them know the rough planking and the hot sun of the New Orleans docks. All of them have followed the ups and downs of a jazzman's life, from the early 1900's or before. Some of their horns are in beat-up cases — the clarinetist has an old Albert, a type that was supposed to have gone out of style years ago because you couldn't get around it fast enough.

And you watch them set up—the thin clarinetist, George Lewis, with a soulful face that breaks into light when he smiles — "Big Jim" Robinson, the stevedore, whose large hands make a trombone look like a toy. There's "Slow Drag" Pavageau on bass. He's sixty-seven, but he keeps it a secret.... even from his bass. Near him stands "Kid" Howard on trumpet, who's not a kid any more, and who followed the riverboats up to Chicago in the old days to see how they were doing on the South Side. You watch George Guesnon tune up his banjo. It's got a funky sound, but to a New Orleans ear, it's just right. Beside him' sits Alton Purnell, hitting a few chords on the Steinway. He grins. It's not exactly what a Professor's piano should look like, but if you hit it right, you can forget about the twelve coats of varnish and shellac. And there, fixing the foot pedal on the bass drum, is Joe Watkins. The bands he's played with make a long list, and he knows the feeling of New Orleans pavements gliding under his foot as he strides along, the straps of his parade drum biting into his shoulders.

It's a recording studio in Hackensack, New Jersey, and the year is 1955. The past and the present are about to rub shoulders, and you wonder what it's going to sound like. And then Lewis kicks off the beat for Mahogany Hall Stomp —and the walls move back two feet.

And as you listen, you realize something you've half known, half hoped for, but never really dared believe. New Orleans Jazz isn't dead. It's as alive and kicking today as it was on those warm nights, so long ago, when the scent of magnolias blended with the sound of whacky horns down Bourbon Street way.

If New Orleans Jazz died that night in 1917 when they closed Lulu White's, these men never heard about it. If it was supposed to have changed in Chicago in the mid '20s, and then gone through a big band phase in New York in the '30s, they didn't hear about that either. For as you listen, here is the old sound on high fidelity. It takes a minute to get used to it—to really believe it—but it won't throw you. And you know what the old records were trying to sound like — and couldn't quite.

If you've any idea that these New Orleans musicians are digging up a museum piece, just listen to any one of the cuts on these two marvelous LPs. For this is the only way these men know how to play — they're playing jazz, and this is what it sounds like, and if by some miracle Oliver, or Jelly, or Keppard walked in through the door, they'd think they were home again. For this is their music too — with the flags up and waving. It's certain, and sure, and it believes in itself.

Listen to the Lewis clarinet on See See Rider, with a tone a yard wide, and all velvet. Listen to Robinson on Mahogany Hall Stomp, and catch the wonderful vocal of Alton Purnell on Heebie Jeebies. There's so much here — even the little things, like the slow, haunting four-bar piano intro to I Can't Escape From You, the incredible beat of "Slow Drag" Pavageau's bass on Lord Lord, You Sure Been Good To Me, the truly great clarinet-trombone ensemble which Lewis and Robinson cook up on Walking With The King. And if you want, you can practically slide into line behind Joe Watkins drums, as you round the corner playing Gettysburg. Marches, blues, hymns, all played as fresh as the day the music was born. "Kid" Howard's horn is the kind that made the shutters slide open on Basin Street, and George Guesnon's banjo, with its tremendous rock, is right up there at the front of the rhythm, pushing the horns, driving them, without ever stepping on them.

Notice the tunes that they play, some of which haven't had a New Orleans going over since the last edition of the "Blue Book." And above all, listen to the ensembles—sweet, driving, hot, superbly recorded, building to peaks they can't top—and then topping them on the next chorus. You'll hear the rhythm laying down an incredible driving beat, you'll hear Robinson holding up the bottom of the band with a trombone that opens the gates, and then shakes them, and you'll hear "Kid" Howard sliding through with a driving horn that sets down a melody line and seduces it at the same time. And all through, there's Lewis, changing the whole tone of ensembles with his clusters of clean, high, nervous notes, and then coming downstairs with a tone so broad and sweet and steaming hot you'll begin to wonder how a clarinet ever sounded like that.

The books talk about a golden age of jazz, and the legend, and the giants in the land. These records talk about the same thing, but they let you in on a secret. When New Orleans Jazz "died," somebody forgot to lock the gate. Here is the music again — as incredibly alive as the day it was born. You've got it in your hands right now.

— ROBERT S. GREENE

Cover Design by GIL MELLE
Photo by FRANCIS WOLFF