B-6506

Sidney DeParis - Original Blue Note Jazz Volume 2

Released - 1969

Recording and Session Information

WOR Studios, NYC, March 4, 1944
Sidney DeParis, trumpet; Vic Dickenson, trombone; Ben Webster, tenor sax; James P. Johnson, piano; Jimmy Shirley, guitar; John Simmons, bass; Sidney Catlett, drums.

BN950-1 Blue Mizz
BN951-2 Victory Stride (alternate take)
BN951-3 Victory Stride
BN952-2 Joy-Mentin'
BN953-2 After You've Gone

WOR Studios, NYC, June 21, 1944
Sidney DeParis, trumpet; Vic Dickenson, trombone; Edmond Hall, clarinet; James P. Johnson, piano; Jimmy Shirley, guitar; John Simmons, bass; Sidney Catlett, drums.

BN981-0 Everybody Loves My Baby
BN982-0 Ballin' The Jack
BN983-1 Who's Sorry Now
BN984-0 The Call Of The Blues

WOR Studios, NYC, October 26, 1944
Sidney DeParis, trumpet; Vic Dickenson, trombone; Edmond Hall, clarinet; James P. Johnson, piano; Jimmy Shirley, guitar; Al Lucas, bass; Arthur Trappier, drums.

BN993-2 Tishomingo Blues

Track Listing

Side One
Title	Author	Recording Date
Everybody Loves My Baby	Jack Palmer-Spencer Williams	June 21 1944
Everybody Loves My Baby [Alt. Take]	Jack Palmer-Spencer Williams	June 21 1944
Ballin' The Jack	Chris Smith-Jim Burris	June 21 1944
Who's Sorry Now	Kalmar-Ruby-Snyder	June 21 1944
The Call Of The Blues	Sidney DeParis	June 21 1944
Side Two
Blue Mizz	James P. Johnson	March 4 1944
Victory Stride	James P. Johnson	March 4 1944
Joy-Mentin'	James P. Johnson	March 4 1944
After You've Gone	Henry Creamer-Turner Layton	March 4 1944
Tishomingo Blues	Spencer Williams	October 26 1944

Liner Notes

1944 was a crucial year in the evolution of jazz.

The 52nd Street scene was bristling with small group jazz. In one evening, during the fall of that year, you could take in, within the space of a single block, Oscar Pettiford's all star combo and Billie Holiday at the Spotlight; the Coleman Hawkins quintet (with Monk at the piano) and the Trummy Young-Herbie Fields group, both almost next door at the Downbeat; Erroll Garner's Quartet with Lucky Thompson, and Wingy Manone's Dixieland band, at the Three Deuces; the Stuff Smith and Barney Bigard groups at the Onyx; Nat Jaffe's quintet featuring Charlie Shavers at Kelly's Stable, and, as always, Joe Marsala at the Hickory House.

They don't hardly make streets like that no more.

It was the year Jimmie Noone died, and Clarence Profit. Scant attention was paid to the death of Profit, a pianist years ahead of his time, in whose trio the guitarist Jimmy Shirley played an indispensable role.

It was the year Norman Granz produced his precedent-setting short film Jammin' the Blues, and Esquire staged the first jazz concert ever fielded at the Metropolitan Opera House.

In Greenwich Village, too, it was a busy year; the DeParis brothers, Sidney and Wilbur, were gigging around in various clubs and James P. Johnson, semi-inactive since suffering a stroke in 1940, slowly returned to the scene.

Obviously, if you consult the discographical information concerning the present album, 1944 was also the year in which Sidney DeParis and James P. Johnson were united, with a couple of specially assembled recording groups, by Alfred Lion and Francis Wolff, the enterprising young men who ran a jazz record label, Blue Note, which had only been around for five years.

Blue Note was remarkable not only for its willingness to record artists considered uncommercial by the major labels; its policy of recording 12-inch 78s almost exclusively gave it (and the musicians) a rare advantage. For $1.50 in those days you got one tune on each side four or five minutes long instead of the customary two or three.

The advantage of this method is strongly evident on every track here. The musicians had a better chance to stretch out. That they deserved this opportunity becomes clear when one glances at the extraordinary roster of names involved.

Sidney De Paris, three years younger than his trombonist brother, was born in 1900 in Crawfordsville, Ind. After studying with his father, he began playing professionally while still in his teens, working first in Washington with one Sam Taylor. Among his subsequent employers were Charlie Johnson (1926-31 Don Redman (1931-6, first with McKinney's Cotton Pickers, which Don was directing, later with Redman's own band); Mezz Mezzrow and Zutty Singleton in the late 1930s, and Benny Carter in 1940-41.

Vic Dickenson, also a Carter alumnus, was a member of Eddie Heywood's sextet when the present sides were cut. Edmond Hall, whose clarinet produced one of the most personal sounds ever to come out of New Orleans, spent all of 1944 at Café Society Downtown, first with Teddy Wilson's combo and later leading his own sextet. Ben Webster, who in 1943 had ended a four-year tenure in the Duke Ellington orchestra, was free-lancing, mostly around 52nd Street. Jimmy Shirley, after touring with Ella Fitzgerald, rejoined Clarence Profit shortly before the latter's death.

John Simmons, who came to prominence on records with Teddy Wilson, worked with Louis Armstrong's big band in the early 1940s. Sid Catlett, in addition to working with both Wilson and Armstrong, led his own small combo for a while.

From these various regular jobs, the men you hear on these sides came together to create, with a spontaneity that knew no boundaries of style or instrumentation, a music that has withstood the test of time. On the tracks under Sidney's name, the basic orientation is toward Dixieland; on the other hand, the numbers recorded with an almost identical band, but led by James P. Johnson, lean in the direction of organization rather than collective ad libbing.

Everybody Loves My Baby, the Spencer Williams 1924 standard, sets the pace, displaying the verse and chorus of this imperishable song. It is interesting to note that the rhythm section, though heavy and rigid by today's standards, never becomes ponderous; for this we must accord much of the credit to the finesse of Big Sid Catlett, many of whose ideas in the 1930s and '40s were still being picked up on by jazzmen after his death in 1951.

A dash of humor informs Vic Dickenson's solo, as is so often the case with him. Hall demonstrates his exceptional ability to inflame the clarinet, an instrument that has shown a tendency to sound passive and even flaccid in less capable hands. Sidney DeParis' style carries suggestions of Roy Eldridge, both in his sound and in the use of thrills and other devices associated with Little Jazz.

Ballin' The Jack, from your hit parade of 1914, offers a familiar harmonic background for the horns and an opportunity for James P. to display a dainty, symmetrical style. At one point, as one reviewer observed when this record was originally released on a 78, James P. displays his occasional tendency to use breaks in the style of Zez Confrey, the celebrated popular pianist of the 1920s.

Who's Sorry Now? is of unusual interest in that Jimmy Shirley takes the introduction and the first solo chorus, the notes so evenly spaced that you tend to compare his time with Charlie Christian's. Vic is in top form, with riffing encouragement offered by the other horns, and James P. may remind you of Fats Waller, though this is a reversal of the way things should bet since, of course, it was Fats who was an ardent disciple of Johnson; the latter, born in 1891, was 13 years Waller's senior.

The Call of the Blues, with James P. setting a boogie woogie figure, offers an admirable example of the plunger and growl style of Sidney DeParis, in a tradition generally associated with Bobber Miley of the early Ellington orchestra. Jimmy Shirley pulls his weight, swinging as much as or more than anyone else in the band. Hall and Dickenson, of course, are acknowledged masters of the blues.

The indigo mood carries over on to the second side in Blue Mizz. A fuller quality lent to the ensemble by the presence of Ben Webster's tenor saxophone in the opening thematic statement is immediately apparent. The uniquely endearing sound of Ben's tenor provides the first solo. Vic Dickenson again illustrates his one-of-a-kind style of articulating dotted eighth and sixteenth notes. DeParis has a wide ranging solo notable for its warmth; James P. rounds it out with a blues solo to which the horns add a riff.

Victory stride and Joy Mentin', like Blue Mizz, were composed by Johnson. The former bears a vague resemblance to an earlier Ellington composition, Jubilee Stomp; in fact, this track has a generally Ducal atmosphere to which, of course, Ben makes his own deep purple contribution. Joy-Mentin' dispenses with the drums briefly as Jimmy Shirley and John Simmons ease their way into this interesting example of prehistoric funk. Catlett remains discreet throughout. Simmons has a solo here, with rolling comments from James P.

After You've Gone, another of those World War I pop songs that achieved jazz standard stature, made its first appearance in 1918. Appropriately, the introduction is played by James P. in a stride manner, somewhat reminiscent of the ragtime era from which he evolved. The highlights are a long solo (two choruses) by Ben, and some fluent, assertive Vic Dickenson, slightly more melody-oriented than Ben. Notice the challenging strength with which Sidney DeParis leads out the closing ensemble.

Tishomingo Blues, a Spencer Williams tune recorded by Duke Ellington in 1928, has a couple of changes in the rhythm section, and brings Edmond Hall back into the front line. Bassist Al Lucas, like Dickenson, was working with Eddie Heywood during the period when these sessions were made. Arthur "Traps" Trappier, the drummer, spent three years with Fats Waller before the latter's death, then worked with the Teddy Wilson and Edmond Hall combos at Café Society.

DeParis deploys his plunger in the first chorus of this tune, which might best be analyzed as a 32 bar blues. Ed, Vic, James P. and Jimmy all have a chance to work out on this rarely heard composition.

Having been on the New York scene around the time these records were made (I remember some spiritedly rewarding nights listening to James P. at the Pied Piper, just off Sheridan Square), I find it doubly interesting to study these records in a 25 year retrospect. But they have dated so little, and so much vital jazz still emerges, it is not entirely a matter of whether or when jazz becomes old fashioned.

There is much music made five years ago that already sounds dated; there are, on the other hand, numerous sides waxed during the 1920s by Louis, Bix and others that still have the breath of freshness, because their conception knew no bounds of time, style or fad. Happily, the music of Sidney DeParis, James P. Johnson and their Blue Note Jazzmen belongs in this elite category of music, in which the only time that counts is the 4/4 time signature, and what matters most is the beauty, the inspiration and the personal qualities of the unforgettable artists who made these contributions to jazz history.

LEONARD FEATHER
(Author of the ENCYCLOPEDIA OF JAZZ)

Discographical Data

Everybody Loves My Baby
Sidney DeParis, trp.; Vic Dickenson, trb,; Ed Hall, cit.; James P. Johnson, pno.; Jimmy Arthur Shirley, gtr.; John Simmons, bs.; Sid Catlett, dms. — recorded June 21, 1944, New York City (mx. 981; orig. issue Blue Note 40, BLP 7012)

Everybody Loves My Baby (No. 2)
same date, place and personnel (rnx. 981-1; unissued)

Ballin' the Jack
same date, place and personnel (rnx. 982; orig. issue Blue Note 41, BLP 7007, Jazz Parade E2)

Who's Sorry Now
some date, place and personnel (rnx, 983; unissued)

The Call of the Blues
same date, place and personnel (mx. 984; orig. issue Blue Note 40, BLP 7012)

Blue Mizz
same personnel except Ben Webster, ten. replaces Ed Hall, clt. — recorded March 4, 1944, New York City (mx. 950-1; orig. issue Blue Note 32, Jazz Selection 541)

Victory Stride
same date, place and personnel as "Blue Mizz" (mx. 951-3; orig. issue Blue Note 32, Jazz Selection 541)

Joy-Mentin'
same date, place and personnel as "Blue Mizz" (mx. 952-2; orig. issue Blue Note 33, Jazz Selection 547)

After You've Gone
same date, place and personnel as "Blue Mizz" (mx. 953-2; orig. issue Blue Note 33, Jazz Selection 547, Blue Note 7012)

Tishomingo Blues
same personnel as "Everybody Loves My Baby" except Al Lucas, bs.; and Arthur Trappier, dms. replace Simmons and Catlett. — recorded October 26, 1944, New York City (mx. 993-2; orig. issue Blue Note BLP 7012)

1999 Blue Note JazzMen CD Reissue Notes

Two events conjoined to facilitate the making of the music collected on this double CD. The ban on recording imposed by the American Federation of Musicians and its imperious president, James C. Petrillo was ending, at least as far as the independent labels were concerned, and the co-founder and prime mover of Blue Note Records, Alfred Lion, had returned from service with the armed forces.  
 
Though Blue Note today is associated in the minds of most jazz fans with that branch of the music known as "modern," Lion's first loves were the blues and what was called "hot" jazz, i.e., not the dominant big band (and small group) swing, but a style firmly rooted in the New Orleans tradition and its subsequent development in Chicago, Kansas City and New York.  
 
It was the music favored by the growing ranks of serious jazz students and record collectors and their journalistic and critical spokespeople, among them Charles Edward Smith and Frederic Ramsey, co-editors of the influential 1939 book Jazzman, whose gods were Jelly Roll Morton, King Oliver and Sidney Bechet. (Louis Armstrong, while accepted, was considered something of an apostate.) To the right of these New Orleans-centered folks were the budding revivalists, spurred by the recent rediscovery of the legendary Bunk Johnson, and somewhat to the left were the Chicago-centered (and well organized) musicians, fans and writers associated with Eddie Condon and Milt Gabler's Commodore Records and Music Shop.  

 
Bebop had yet to make its fully audible and visible appearance, and the resutant bitter schism between the progressive and "moldy fig" partisans was yet to come, but voices on both sides were already becoming increasingly strident. As far as the players were concerned, they, as always, were primarily concerned with making a living. In that respect/ "old timers" such as James P. Johnson could only be pleased with the attention once again being paid to them, and opportunities to make records, while former big-band sidemen like Edmond Hall, Sidney De Paris and Vic Dickenson were happy to be off the road and able to work in various small-group settings.  
 
More often than not, these settings were still of a swing-oriented nature. Thus, at the time of these recordings, Hall had variously been with Teddy Wilson and Red Allen at Cafe Society, and in 1944 began to lead his own groups at the famous Greenwich Village Club. This was also a main venue for pianist Eddie Heywood's Sextet, of which Dickenson was a key member, while de Paris, though he toured with Roy Eldridge's big band for a spell in 1944, was mainly to be found on 52nd Street—his career not yet tied to that of his brother Wilbur and his revivalist band. And all the other stalwarts involved in these Blue Note "house bands" were in similar situations, gigging as sidemen (or in the case of the great Big Sid Catlett and Ben Webster, occasionally as leaders) on "Swing Street," in the village, or in Harlem.  
 
Though the more traditionally oriented approach favored by Blue Note was not the stock-in-trade of these players, they had no problems in adapting to it. And, if the truth be told, aside from the looser and more polyphonic ensemble style, and the focus on material from previous decades, there wasn't much of a difference in the solo work or rhythm-section interaction between a Blue Note date and a night of club work. And sometimes, as on the marvelous James P. Johnson-led date with Ben Webster, the resultant music was nothing less than contemporary swing. 

What is remarkable, though, is how well the musicians involved here worked together. Some Connoisseurs of collective ensemble playing, among them trombonist and scholar Tom Artin, feel that De Paris-Hall-Dickenson front line without peers, and this listener, who first acquired most of these records in their 12-inch 78 first incarnation, would tend to agree with the proviso that the presence of Catlett often is the ingredient that adds the magic to the potion. What's indisputable is that each of the players involved here knows his role to perfection, and that the best (and the level is very high) of these performances achieve a kind of perfection rare in any style of jazz.  
 
We begin with the only traditional New Orleans piece in this repertory, and perhaps the least successful of these performances, which may have convinced Lion that such material was better suited to elder New Orleanians and other "revivalists”. This 1901 march, composed by Porter Steele, a member of the Yale Mandolin Club, and subsequently published in a brass-band arrangement that came to the attention of New Orleans marching bands, is famed for its demanding clarinet solo—which was adapted by Alphonse Picou from the piccolo counter melody to the trio strain created by the stock's arranger, Robert Ricker. (The history of early jazz is a fascinating amalgam of ingredients from all sorts of unexpected sources, and should - but probably won't—give pause to the theorists of ethnicity.)  

The solo is the centerpiece of "High Society," and Edmond Hall handles it in fine fashion in all three takes. While the ensemble falters on the first attempt; the routine is altered for the next two takes, and all works well. Hall's spiky, unmistakable sound is much in evidence, and so are De Paris's unique, skipping time conception and Dickenson's even, more characteristic repertoire smears, glisses,  growls, glides.  
 
"Blues At Blue Note" is the first of several slow blues pieces found here—all of them state of the art story-telling. There are two takes, and the first and longest has two Dickenson choruses, the second of which quotes verbatim from Louis Armstrong's famous "Hot Seven Gully Low Blues;" Like all these cats, Vic knew his Pops. Guitarist Jimmy Shirley proves himself a splendid accompanist, as does the magisterial James P. , and De Paris is an expert growler, using a little copper straight-mute in the bell and a plunger in front of it. Ed Hall's dancing rhythms are echoed by Catlett & Co., and don't forget Israel Crosby, a bass master. "Night Shift Blues" is distinguished by the shifting, role-changing accompaniment to the solo turns, which differ interestingly (as on the previous blues) from take to take.  
 
"Royal Garden Blues" is one of the classic evergreens of traditional jazz, written in 1919 for King Oliver's Band. It has three strains, the second with breaks, the third a blues riff quite startlingly modern for its day, and solos on the 12-bar blues. There are tons of RGB's in the annals of recorded jazz; this one is the greatest, notably the second take, with wits firmer ensembles, great rideout, and wonderful interaction between Dickenson and Catlett. De Paris quotes from Oliver and Armstrong's Dippermouth. 

"Blue Note Boogie Woogie," never issued on 78, was found in the Blue Note vaults by this writer on an acetate labeled "NG." It shows the strains of a long and productive session in the rideout and De Paris's calm during his solo, which no doubt caused the "NC" judgment, but James P. is well featured and in fine fettle, though woogie was not his real meat. (The title was provided by yours truly.)  
 
With John Simmons in on bass for Crosby as the only change, De Paris's nominal leadership finds him in great form, with a repertory in the main of standards. "Everybody Loves My Baby" is presented in contrasting tempos, the first take considerably faster, each opening with the song's verse, and each offering splendid solos. On the first, we get one by James P. t on the second, the brassman both excel; on the first, the closing ensemble is a rouser, and on both, the team of Simmons and Catlett—great friends who'd served together in the bands of Armstrong and Benny Goodman—is magical "Ballin' the Jack" survives in just one take, but it's just about perfect in terms of tempo and feeling. This 1913 tune describes a dance, and the rhythm section's work will urge you to get out on the floor. For once, the great James P. gets two choruses to himself, and makes the most of it, and De Paris clearly likes this song. "Who's Sorry Now," vintage 1923, comes in for two fine takes; I like the first best for its firm tempo and great James P., but Jimmy Shirley's characteristic guitar's fine on both, as are all the horns—dig that rhythm section behind Hall on the first take! "Call of the Blues" is Sidney's feature and it's a masterpiece; he gets that plunger going front and back, growling and swinging. Hall's graceful, Shirley takes one of his best, really into the blues, and Vic tells another of his sly, funky stories. Too bad this wasn't a working band—they'd have made history. Hell, they did...  
 
As noted, James P.'s first Blue Note date is deeply into swing—with a touch of Ellington, who of course was inspired by James P. and was taken under the stride king's wing when he came to Harlem. Blue Mizz has that Ducal small-group sound in the ensemble blend. From the first note, we can tell that Ben Webster and Sid Catlett had a special relationship, but also note how Sid adjusts his accompaniment to each soloist. Webster had come into his own with Duke and found his unique voice; a blues master, he's more assertive on the first take, more subtle on the second where Vic shines. The piano solo spot gets horn backing on the first, none on the second. Victory Stride is identical to Jubilee Stomp, recorded by Duke as his piece in 1928; you be the jury, keeping in mind that no one came after Jimmy in 1944. It's a fine piece of work/ and both takes have special moments; Sid’s tom-toms behind Ben on the first; Ben great on both, but near-perfect on the second, on which trombone also excels, and James P. trots out some special stuff; Sid treats us to drum breaks in the final ensemble. Lion made the right choice. "Joy Mentin”, in one take, is the blues at a deliberate medium tempo and one almost hears Johnny Hodges in the ensembles. Great support throughout by John Simmons, who also gets a solo chorus, as do Ben and Vic; before that/ Shirley, with his "Vivrola" resonator, and Sidney (first rate) take two apiece, the former with marvelous James P. support. We end a great session with "After You've Gone," the theme stated by trumpet (again, perfect tempo chosen by James P), solos by piano, tenor, trombone and trumpet, each launched with a break, and taking one in the medias res for good measure. Ben's two-chorus statement is a highlight, but dig that Johnson stride, and don't miss Vic's breaks!  
 
James P's second session brings back Ed Hall and introduces two new faces, bassist Al Lucas, then with Eddie Heywood and soon to (briefly) join Ellington, and drummer Art "Traps" Trappier, a graduate of the academy of Fats Waller. Considering the big shoes they had to fill, they do themselves proud.  
 
"Tishomingo Blues," composed by New Orleans native Spencer Williams in 1917, has a hauntingly attractive theme, suited to the band's leisurely tempo. The first take's a bit hazy in spots, the second more focused; the piano solos are intriguingly different. Things perk up for "Walkin' the Dog," a descriptive dance piece from 1916-—when the Bunny Hug, Grizzly Bear and Fox Trot were in vogue—by Shelton Brooks. It's such a fine piece for ensemble that one wonders why it isn't heard more often (Bunny Berigam gave it a good interpretation in 1939); James P. knew a good number. Both takes are delightful and swinging; the horns all take two 16-bar choruses while Jimmy is content with just one—he almost steals the show on the second take. Ed Hall and Shirley are an excellent match, here as elsewhere, and Vic scores once again while Sidney conjures up ol’ Davey Crockett during his nimble  turns. "Easy Rider," another of those patented Blue Note slow blues, is perhaps the least successful of this date's efforts, but far from feeble, with Sidney's growl stuff to the fore. But now we come to the piece de resistance (or rather, pieces.) The takes of "At the Ball" are really two distinct versions of that splendid but little well known composition by yet another New Orleanian, J. Lubrie Hill, whose 1913  
show "My Friend From Kentucky" was such a hit at Harlem's Lafayette Theater that Florence Ziegfield adapted its closing scene for his "Follies" of that year; the song featured in that scene was "At The Ball." It was surely James P. who remembered and brought the music to this date, and surely it was also he who devised the tricky routine whereby each soloist hands off to the next man two bars before one would expect it, thus suspending the completion of a break.  
 
The first take's the slower one, though well above middle tempo. After the opening ensemble, Vic's up first and he hands off to Edmond just a few microseconds late. Then Sidney takes it, handing off to James P. , whose second break is stunning. Traps takes the breaks in the rideout. A fine rendition, but hold on—here comes take two, and it's quite a bit faster, allowing for more soloing. Vic again leads off and this time hits safely; Edmond gets superb rhythmic support, and then Sidney tops his first effort, his notes skipping like a flat stone tossed over water. Then James P. fashions another terrific break, and now Shirley gets a spot, cutting the time in half effectively. Al Lucas gets his turn, and then comes a drum solo—not just a break—and its rambunctious. The final ensemble jumps. This was James P.’s  valedictory as a bandleader; he went out in a blaze of glory.  
 
Much of this music has been with me for half a century, but hasn't worn out its welcome. For others familiar with it, having it presented in such fine sound with complete takes will be a treat. For those to whom it is new; If you open your ears, you'll find as much pleasure in this special brew as we have. Imbibe!  
 
—Dan Morgenstern