NEW ORLEANS RHYTHM KINGS – 1922-1923 | The Chronogical Classics – 1129 (2000) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

This is some of the best early jazz that you'll ever hear. The overall traditional jazz landscape would be incomplete without these hot little records. Descending upon the Gennett recording studios in August of 1922, the New Orleans Rhythm Kings called themselves the Friars Society Orchestra in honor of Mike Fritzel's Friar's Inn, a Chicago speakeasy that gave them lots of gig work. "Husk O'Hare" was designated as their director. It's worth noting that a gathering of hares is traditionally known as a "husk." If that's not the origin of his name, it is a staggering coincidence. A husk o' hares, get it? Anyway, these rusty old stomps and shimmies are a joy to behold. "Farewell Blues" is as good as it gets. This number and "Tin Roof Blues" really put the Rhythm Kings on the map. "Discontented Blues" turned out to be a nice vehicle for Jack Pettis, who generates one of the very first tenor sax solos to make it onto phonograph records. The saxophone really adds a whole dimension to this ensemble. "Panama" is pretty darned scratchy at the outset; they probably should have found a different copy of the original platter. Up until this track these old Gennett sides sounded pretty good. "Tiger Rag" and "Livery Stable Blues" are similarly disrupted by more surface noise than was heard on vinyl LP issues of this same material. (How puzzling!) With "Oriental," we return to decent remastering, which is not really so much to ask. Just when you think the trouble has passed, "That's A-Plenty" sounds a bit scrofulous. Fortunately, the sound quality improves after this, so the listener is no longer distracted by excessive scratchiness. "Shim-Me-Sha-Wabble" comes across beautifully, Mel Stitzel's piano quite audible through the horns. As any collector of old records can tell you, when there's a lot of surface noise, the piano is among the first instruments to get lost in the scuffle. Artie Matthews' "Weary Blues" rocks nicely, setting an example for later generations to emulate. "Da Da Strain" is a marvel of studied polyphony, a jacked-up conversation between staunch cornet, reefer-head clarinet, and dog trombone. Irresistible! Drop everything and dance around the room to this. Jelly Roll Morton wrote "Wolverine Blues" after spotting what he considered an unusual zoological word on a barbershop in the wilds of Michigan. The Rhythm Kings' version of this song is delightfully solid and relaxed, kicking lightly and wagging its tail. "Maple Leaf Rag" sends perky trills right on up through the scratchy record surface. Jelly Roll Morton actually sat in with this band on July 17 and 18, 1923, breaking the color bar and sounding marvelous behind the horns. "Mr. Jelly Lord" wins awards for "best slow drag," while "London Blues" and "Milenberg Joys" are fundamentally essential recordings that need to be studied carefully and lovingly, for this is one of the taproots of jazz, this bundle of old-fashioned/newfangled dance tunes on scratchy old records. Even if a few of the tracks could have been cleaned up more diligently, it's probably good to hear authentic 78-rpm surface noise so nobody forgets what it sounded like. arwulf arwulf  
Tracklist + Credits :

KING OLIVER's JAZZ BAND – 1923-1926 | The Chronogical Classics – 639 (1992) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

We'd like to introduce the last 11 sides that Louis Armstrong made with Joe Oliver's Jazz Band. After listening through three or four of these, you'll have a pretty good idea why this group generated so much excitement in its heyday. Already the ensemble has begun to morph. Papa Charlie Jackson's bass saxophone adds an extra level of funk to "Buddy's Habit," a thrilling stomp gone slightly weird when Louis takes an entire chorus using a slippery "swanee whistle." Jackson played a worthy tuba but his bass sax was all prostate and peritoneum. This was a hot band and these are among the best records they ever managed to conjure. Two cornets harmonize in striking tandem during the breaks. Honore Dutrey's trombone is the perfect counterweight for Johnny Dodds' clarinet. We're experiencing authentic collective improvisation, eight people sharing one microphone. Each of these numbers will charm you if you give the music a chance. Go ahead. Spend more than a half-hour with this amazing band. Suddenly the chapter ends and we've entered a completely different phase of Oliver's life. The group has dissolved after a dispute over pay. Louis lingered longer than the rest but by December of 1924 he's off plowing his own turf. A full year has passed since the band's final session as a unit. King Oliver is heard in duet performance with Jelly Roll Morton, working up a gutsy "King Porter Stomp" and a "Tom Cat" which soon reveals itself as Morton's "Winin' Boy." Now we're wading into the year 1926. Oliver has put his name in front of a band, which is essentially Luis Russell & His Burning Eight. Suddenly there are a lot more reed players than have ever been heard on any of King Oliver's records. There's Albert Nicholas, Barney Bigard and an alto player from Detroit named Billy Paige. He wrote the arrangements for "Too Bad" and "Snag It." Vocals are by the venerably funky Richard M. Jones, the soulful Teddy Peters, the salty Georgia Taylor and the chronically blue Irene Scruggs. Albert Nicholas plays a mean soprano sax on "Home Town Blues." "Deep Henderson" kicks and shakes. "Jackass Blues" is a masterpiece of distorted reality. Gone is the precision of the Creole Jazz Band. The Dixie Syncopators blow hard and swing loose. "Sugar Foot Stomp" is a screamer. Conventional criticism is full of complaints about this band. Why compare it with the smaller, more disciplined ensembles of 1923? These big bumbling bands of 1926 are about feeling good. The records don't exist to authenticate some expert's theories of refined excellence. If Barney Bigard wants to slap his tongue against the reed and Stump Evans tries his luck with a soprano saxophone, well, good for them. It's all about having a good time. And this is good time music. arwulf arwulf  
Tracklist + Credits :

JELLY-ROLL MORTON – 1923-1924 | The Chronogical Classics – 584 (1991) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

Part of Classics' excellent chronological series, this examines Jelly Roll's recordings from 1923 to 1924, beginning with a Paramount single with his orchestra, "Big Fat Ham," followed by "Muddy Water Blues." Next up are the first six issued Gennett piano solos, then stray singles by Morton's Jazz Band, Steamboat Four, and Stomp Kings. These are proceeded by four more piano solo sides, which were cut for Paramount, before finishing out with a marathon piano solo session for Gennett in 1924. Cub Koda
Tracklist + Credits :

JELLY-ROLL MORTON – 1924-1926 | The Chronogical Classics – 599 (1991) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

The best way to acquire Jelly Roll Morton's classic Victor recordings is on a five-CD set put out by Bluebird that includes all of the alternate takes. But listeners who do not care about alternates may find the Morton CDs in the European Classics series to be as satisfying. This particular CD actually starts off with 14 selections that predate the Victors. Several of the early selections (such as the first four numbers, which include cornetist Lee Collins and trombonist Roy Palmer and "Soap Suds") are a bit disappointing due to the low-level recording quality. However, "My Gal" does have some good clarinet work from the underrated Volly DeFaut, there are four superb piano solos (including "The Pearls" and the definitive solo version of "King Porter Stomp"), and blues singer Edmonia Henderson is excellent on "Dead Man Blues" and "Georgia Grind." Despite these highlights, it is the final nine numbers on this disc that are most memorable. Morton is heard with his finest group, a septet with cornetist George Mitchell, trombonist Kid Ory, and clarinetist Omer Simeon. In addition to Morton's piano playing, his arranging is innovative and very inventive for the time; listen to all of the different tone colors and instrumental combinations that he gets from the group on "Black Bottom Stomp." These versions of "The Chant," "Sidewalk Blues," "Dead Man Blues," and "Grandpa's Spells" are quite famous and "Someday Sweetheart" is an early example of jazz (including Omer Simeon, who reluctantly plays bass clarinet) with strings. Classic music. Scott Yanow  
Tracklist + Credits :

JELLY-ROLL MORTON – 1926-1928 | The Chronogical Classics – 612 (1991) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

While Louis Armstrong was cutting some of jazz's bedrock material, fellow New Orleans native and pianist Jelly Roll Morton was making equally fine, yet long overshadowed, recordings with his Red Hot Peppers combo. And it's his 1926-1927 sides for Victor, cut during a handful of sessions in New York, that form the pinnacle of his '20s heyday. This Classics disc, one of several of the label's chronological Morton titles, includes a good share of those standout tracks, but unfortunately excludes several essential numbers like "Sidewalk Blues," "Black Bottom Stomp," and "Grandpa's Spells" (Classics' earlier 1924-1926 release picks up the slack). While completist Morton fans will no doubt be drawn to this series, curious listeners in search of a well-balanced introduction should check out JSP's superior-sounding Vol. 1 collection. Stephen Cook
Tracklist + Credits :

JELLY-ROLL MORTON – 1928-1929 | The Chronogical Classics – 627 (1992) FLAC (tracks), lossless

This CD traces Jelly Roll Morton's period in New York, starting with his second record date in the Big Apple. A few of the sessions have Morton joined by an excess of musicians, with the results certainly being spirited, if bordering on getting out of control. "Tank Town Bump" and "Red Hot Pepper Stomp" are the best of these numbers. In addition, Morton is heard on four excellent piano solos (including "Seattle Hunch" and "Freakish"), leading a nucleus taken from the Luis Russell Orchestra on four other songs, and playing as a sideman with vaudevillian clarinetist Wilton Crawley's pickup band, sometimes to hilarious effect. One of the true jazz giants, every recording by Jelly Roll Morton is well worth acquiring in one form or another. Scott Yanow  
Tracklist + Credits :

JELLY-ROLL MORTON – 1929-1930 | The Chronogical Classics – 642 (1992) FLAC (tracks), lossless

With the exception of two dates as a leader and the remainder of the Wilton Crawley set that closes this album, this disc has the final Jelly Roll Morton recordings before the Great Depression temporarily halted his recording career. The pianist-composer is heard backing singers Lizzie Miles and Billie Young on two songs apiece and interacting with the wild vaudevillian clarinetist Wilton Crawley on "Big Time Woman" and "I'm Her Papa, She's My Mama." The best all-round session has four numbers performed by the trio of Morton, clarinetist Barney Bigard, and drummer Zutty Singleton. Of the band sides (some of which are a bit undisciplined), highlights include "Little Lawrence," "Load of Coal" (with Cozy Cole on drums), and "Fussy Mabel," which has a classic solo from trumpeter Bubber Miley. Whether acquired in this series or on a five-CD Bluebird set, this music is highly enjoyable and often quite essential in appreciating 1920s jazz and the musical genius Jelly Roll Morton Scott Yanow  
Tracklist + Credits :

JELLY-ROLL MORTON – 1930-1939 | The Chronogical Classics – 654 (1992) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

There are a lot of Jelly Roll Morton reissues kicking around, but few of them span the 1930s the way this one does. Mr. Jelly's chronology generally gets lopped off after the last Red Hot Peppers session, often entirely omitting the rest of his remarkable story. This, then, is a valuable bundle of ensemble stomps and slow drags garnished with a few piano solos. The first session is a whopper. Wilton Crawley was a peculiar vaudevillian who played laughing hyena clarinet. During the opening track he removes the mouthpiece from the instrument and cups his hands around it, generating a series of wah-wah-wah whinnies. This makes perfect sense in a twisted sort of way. Bruce Johnson plays the washboard with great precision, adding lots of little "dings" wherever he pleases. Most of the guys in the band knew each other from having worked in the Luis Russell Orchestra. There are fine solos from Red Allen, Charlie Holmes, and that marvelous guitarist Teddy Bunn. Contrary to what the discography says, Crawley does not vocalize on this date, and Pops Foster sternly puffs away at a tuba rather than using the string bass as listed. Jelly's Red Hot Peppers were on their last couple of go-rounds during the second half of 1930, but this was still a hot band, notable for Ward Pinkett's punchy trumpet, Morton's fabulous piano, and the agility of guitarists Howard Hill and Bernard Addison. "Strokin' Away" contains a wonderful tuba solo by the mighty Pete Briggs. "Blue Blood Blues" begins and finishes with glorious tones in both registers from clarinetist Albert Nicholas.
Years passed before Jelly was able to record again. When he sat down to record piano solos in 1938, his overdeveloped showmanship was bottled up and ready to come pouring out. According to Morton, the lightning-quick "Finger Buster" was supposed to be one of the most difficult pieces ever written for the piano. What it amounts to is a flashy display of technical dexterity. "Creepy Feeling" is a beautiful example of the Caribbean influence that Jelly was fond of demonstrating. "Honky Tonk Music" also breathes with a bit of the "Spanish tinge," along with a deliberate walking bassline, soon to be known as boogie-woogie. The first "New Orleans Jazzmen" session bristles with Sidney Bechet, Albert Nicholas, and Sidney DeParis. "High Society" sounds like they're taking it right down the middle of the street, which is where "Oh, Didn't He Ramble?" would also have taken place. Jelly then sings cleaned-up lyrics to a couple of slow drags, giving listeners a chance to savor the tenor saxophone of Happy Caldwell. While "Buddy Bolden" was originally a song about farting, the notorious "Winin' Boy" dates from Morton's tenure as a Storyville cathouse piano player. Jelly's Library of Congress recording of his erstwhile theme song contains some of the most sexually explicit lyrics ever sung into a recording microphone. "Winding Boy" was a term used to describe a "tireless stud." While we're on the subject, James Scott's "Climax Rag" is pleasantly stimulating, as are all eight selections from September of 1939. This wonderful disc ends with two delightful solos including "Original Rags," Scott Joplin's masterpiece of 1899. arwulf arwulf  
Tracklist + Credits :

JELLY-ROLL MORTON – 1939-1940 | The Chronogical Classics – 668 (1992) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

This CD has (with the exception of two songs from a slightly later radio broadcast) the final recordings of pianist-composer Jelly Roll Morton. Best are his piano solos (such as "The Crave," "The Naked Dance," and "King Porter Stomp") and selections in which he backs his own vocals (including "I Thought I Heard Buddy Bolden Say," "Don't You Leave Me Here," and "Mamie's Blues"). Morton's three band dates (which resulted in the final dozen titles) are slightly disappointing because he was obviously trying to write a hit and not having any success. The songs are all forgettable except "Sweet Substitute" and the standard "Panama." But overall, this CD (along with the others in the Classics reissues series) are easily recommended to fans of vintage classic jazz who do not own the more complete five-CD Bluebird Morton set. Scott Yanow
Tracklist + Credits :

WINGY MANONE AND HIS ORCHESTRA – 1927-1934 | The Classics Chronological Series – 774 (1994) FLAC (tracks), lossless

A publicity photo of Wingy Manone shows him apparently poised in the act of doing the dance called a buck-and-wing, but that's not where the moniker came from. When Joe Manone was ten years old he lost his right arm in a trolley accident. In time he came to be called "Wingy," and wore a wooden limb with a glove over the end of it, securing his cornet between the wooden fingers and working its valves with his left hand. Wingy's bands swung hard. He developed a warm, gruff voice and almost invariably displayed a wild sense of humor. What Classics 774 delivers is a step-by-step synopsis of Manone's earliest work, including quite a bit of previously hard to find material. The four titles from 1927 were recorded in Wingy's home town of New Orleans. Earl Warner's twerpy vocal on the first selection illustrates exactly why listeners should be thankful for Wingy's decision to develop himself as a singer. Up in Chicago a year and a half later, Wingy fell in with a set of rough-and-tumble blokes who earnestly cooked each number to the bone. Next stop: the Gennett recording studio in Richmond, IN, where Manone led two sessions under the inspiring banner of Barbecue Joe & His Hot Dogs during the late summer and early autumn of 1930. Every single one of these sides is solid and catchy, especially the Hot Dogs' revival of Papa Charlie Jackson's "Shake That Thing." Most notably, "Tar Paper Stomp," also known as "Wingy's Stomp," is the earliest known recording involving a bouncy lick that would show up in Fletcher Henderson's book as "Hot and Anxious" and eventually earn a lot of money for Glenn Miller as "In the Mood." Here on Wingy's plate it comes across honest and natural as hash browns and scrambled eggs with a little bit of hot sauce. There is a discernible change in Wingy's voice over the span of just a few years. In 1928 he's earnest enough but doesn't attract a whole lot of attention. By 1930 he's sounding tougher. But the Wingy of 1934 calls out in a voice of magnetic, husky friendliness that would distinguish him for the rest of his days. Wingy's consistent front line of cornet (or trumpet after 1930), clarinet, and tenor sax was only occasionally beefed up with a trombone or extra trumpets. Three of the five tenors represented here languish in obscurity; Bud Freeman and Eddie Miller are familiar names, but who on earth was George Snurpus? This is exactly why early jazz studies are so adventuresome. You never know who is going to appear before your startled ears. Any hankering for famous and proven presences will be more than satisfied by the session of August 15, 1934. Wingy, Dicky Wells, Artie Shaw, and Bud Freeman are supported by Kaiser Marshall, John Kirby, guitarist Frank Victor, and your choice of pianists Teddy Wilson or Jelly Roll Morton. If that don't get it, nothing will. arwulf arwulf  
Tracklist + Credits :