BLP 7030 (NR)

Sidney Bechet - Olympia Concert Paris - Volume 2

Released - 

Recording and Session Information

"L'Olympia", Paris, France, December 8, 1954
Pierre Dervaux, Gilles Thibaut, trumpet; Benny Vasseur, trombone; Claude Luter, clarinet; Sidney Bechet, soprano sax; Yannick St. Gerry, piano; Claude Phillippe, banjo; Roland Bianchini, bass; Marcel Blanche, drums.

Montmartre Boogie Woogie
When The Saints Go Marching In
Muskrat Ramble
Sobbin' And Cryin' Blues
On The Sunny Side Of The Street

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
Montmartre Boogie	Bechet	December 8 1954
Muskrat Ramble	Ory	December 8 1954
On The Sunny Side Of The Street	Fields-McHugh	December 8 1954
Side Two
Sobbin' And Cryin'	Bechet	December 8 1954
When The Saints	Traditional	December 8 1954

Liner Notes

SIDNEY BECHET, soprano sax; CLAUDE LUTER, clarinet; PIERRE DERVAUX, GIL THIBAUT, trumpets; BENNY VASSEUR, trombone; YANICK ST. GERY, piano; CLAUDE PHILIPPE, banjo; ROLAND BIANCHINI, bass; MARCEL BLANCHE, drums.

THERE'S AN EXCITEMENT on these sides that isn't explained by just the music alone. And there's lots of music—some of the very best Bechet you've ever heard.

For there's no doubt about it — Bechet is King of Paris, and in spite of his white hair, he's the youngest and happiest king they ever had! His palace is the Olympia Hall, his audience drawn from Paris and the surrounding country. And his court, for this appearance, the well-known Claude Luter band. What happens when they all get together is right here — and it makes you want to join up. For its music as happy and sensitive as any you'll ever hear. And there's something about it that makes you proud.

You can hear it echoed in the throat of the crowd — not the wild kind of yelling that's become fashionable at jazz concerts, but the kind of sound a crowd makes when it has love in it — and pure joy. And you can hear it in the whole Luter band, chording behind those soaring solos, each chord a feeling, handing it on to Bechet—saying here it is — and the chord is accepted and held close, and brought forth again — lyric and climbing. For there's more than just the music here. There's a kind of love that gets across with each tune—the sort of thing that makes you feel the presence of a man as well as his music.

And Bechet is quite a man. He had his beginnings way back near the time jazz was born, and he grew up with it. He played with Keppard and Oliver in New Orleans—he was there when it happened and he was a part of it. But, somehow, the spark in him is brighter than it ever was. The years have only made him greater.

Listen to him, for example, on Sunny Side of the Street. There's something here time can't touch, and the crowd knows it. Chorus after chorus, lyric, inventive, the way it must have been on the night jazz was born. Any ordinary jazzman would be satisfied with one performance like this in a lifetime — for Bechet it is only a beginning. For on Temperamental, an original, you will hear one of the finest examples of truly creative improvisation ever recorded. It starts with a simple statement of the melody — and then Bechet, never one to rush things; starts to build. Each chorus could be the top, but it isn't, until finally the tune climaxes with a lyric passage that should be a classic. And if this isn't proof enough of the greatness of the man, he follows it with another original called Sobbin' and Cryin', and does the same thing all over again on an entirely different melody and tempo. As-Tu Le Cafard (Have you got the Blues?) is the sort of tune that, were you an American in Paris, you'd get so homesick you'd take the next boat back. For Bechet has an uncanny power to evoke a mood, and he can do it superbly.

And the French can't resist. They clap with him on Halle Halleluiah because it's impossible for them to keep still. What ever jazz is, the French recognize it when they hear it. For it's in the blood today, as it was when they helped bring it to New Orleans so many years ago. And you'll know, as in the wonderful Riverboat Shuffle, that Bechet has finally brought the gift back home to them again.

It's a gift echoed in Claude Luter's clarinet—soft, sensitive, feeling its way behind Bechet, phrasing bits of the melody for Bechet to shape and form as only he can. It's echoed in Yanick St. Gery's piano, with a left hand that has a James P. kick to it, and in Marcel Blanche's drums. For the Luter band, already a fixture in Paris, lets the great man swing the compass for them, and then strides with him.

And how much of the pure fun of jazz is here too—the wild Muskrat Ramble, played with such Gallic enthusiasm you'd think that the muskrat was the national animal of France — the really hot trumpet solos of Pierre Dervaux and Gil Thibaut making up for the fact that they weren't born forty years ago in New Orleans by frantically trying to invoke Louis right out of the French sky! I suspect Bechet had a smile on his face as he stood aside and listened, but it must have been a smile which acknowledged the tribute and the pleasure.

This pleasure, which is so much a part of his playing, is also part of his secret. For Bechet has never grown old. He's still playing with the same fire as on the day he blew his first chorus. And on this night he makes the echoes of New Orleans, and Chicago, and New York become the echoes of Paris as well.

Think of him as he lives there today, sitting quietly at the sidewalk cafes, a sort of King with his court of passing admirers—a white haired king, talking his fluent, melodious French, with his rich soft smile that's full of wisdom, and eyes that are full of fun. Jelly Roll said of him that he plays more music than you could ever put on paper. But that's only half the story. When you hear him play here you'll know the other half — that Bechet is greater than any chorus he might ever take — a truly warm human being who's managed to bridge not only two continents, but an era. He sings of many things—of New Orleans and the Paris he loves so well. But above all, he sings about the things that stir in each of us, and he sings of them as a poet.

Which is why they're cheering for him on these sides. And, if you listen, most probably you will join them.

—ROBERT S. GREENE

On the Cover: Sidney Bechet at the Olympia.
Photo by FRANCIS WOLFF
Design by JOHN HERMANSADER