Passport to Paradise
发行时间:2011-05-01
发行公司:CD Baby
简介: Jazz trumpet stylist Buck Clayton was lauded as one of the most reliable and inventive players from his early career in the ‘30s through his death in 1991. Born in Parsons, Kansas, in 1911, Wilbur “Buck” Clayton’s musical alliances ranged extensively beyond the Kansas scene. In 1934 he joined pianist Teddy Weatherford’s band on its tour to the Orient; he took over the leadership after Weatherford died, and stayed in Shanghai for a couple of years with the band.
After returning to the U.S., Clayton joined Lionel Hampton for a very brief time and fortuitously took over Hot Lips Page’s chair in Count Basie’s band in the throws of some reorganization; he promptly became Basie’s principal jazz trumpet soloist. In fact, he was single-handedly shouldering the bulk of the load for the entire brass selection until Harry ‘Sweets’ Edison’s arrival. Clayton was highly favored by Basie during his tenure between 1936 and 1943 bracketing Basie’s hot, swinging days, propelled by Basie’s piano plus the famed triumvirate of Freddie Green, Walter Page and Jo Jones in the rhythm section.
In retrospect, it was auspicious that Clayton was with Basie at the time as Clayton’s excellent albeit lightly subtle musical knowledge and keen insight were put into creative advantage by way of his solos on a healthy stack of Basie band classics. Likewise, his attractive and effective arrangements were a boon to the Basie bandbook – e.g., Taps Miller, Down for Double and It’s Sand, Man. In all, Buck Clayton helped the Basie band to make a good bit of jazz history.
The context Clayton is especially remarkable in is small group settings. A good example of his thoughtfully built statements is his solo on Way Down Yonder in New Orleans with the Kansas City Six. Moreover, witness the very numerous historically important small group records featuring Clayton with Lester Young, Teddy Wilson, vocalists Billie Holiday and Mildred Bailey and others. His canny ability to construct his supportive, sensitive solo comments – both long and short – helped to elevate those magnificent performances to even more quality than they might have otherwise represented. The approach he used in accompanying vocalists deserves notice. Playing behind a singer, the lyrics demand to be heard and the accompanist must pick the areas and spots that are somewhat open, enhancing the singer and the lyrics. Clayton could accomplish precisely that assignment – backing up a vocalist and putting the right notes at the right places and never intrude the vocal.
“Buck is so much like Louis Armstrong because you couldn’t possibly find a note that “pops” or Buck played that didn’t fit the chords or progressions,” Clark Terry described enthusiastically. “They couldn’t play a wrong note because they didn’t know how to play a wrong note.” The beauty of Clayton’s logic and the exquisite taste in his choice of notes and phrases seem so natural, yet the careful manner he organizes his music reflects the bold design of unexpectedness.
If Clayton had put down his horn after those revered early years, his contributions would have been sufficient to merit a highly respectable degree of historical significance. His distinctive, uncluttered open horn was well articulated. While he chose to focus in the low to middle registers, he was much more powerful and extensive in range than generally perceived. For instance, his majestic work on Fiesta in Blue with Basie in 1941 -- a long held favorite -- is a case in point. As Terry said, “Buck’s chops are phenomenal! Most people weren’t keenly aware of this…he could hit the notes up there where cats who considered themselves speech players would hit.” There are good examples of his open sound on this album. Likewise his nimble use of the cup mute and subtle improvisations take on such a personal character and refined, dulcet sound that it is easy to see how his place would have been difficult for an alternate player to assume. Few trumpeters can play with such symmetry and controlled simplicity – widely separated notes, laconic phrases and basic tautness.
In April 1961 an octet led by Clayton played concerts at the Paris Olympia Music Hall. For this recording, only his rhythm section was included, augmented by guitarist Jean Bonal. Logically, there is a hint of the Basie tradition. The great homogeneity of the group comes from a good deal of common vocabulary. Pianist Sir Charles Thompson is a versatile musician. Bassist Gene Ramey, like Thompson, carries the stamp of the K.C. experience. Drummer Oliver Jackson’s strong swinging drive and fine cymbal work fit the groove. The entire section with Clayton spins a tale one tune after another, kindled by a mature, big swing feel. Buck Clayton and company pulled it off in Paris.
Jazz trumpet stylist Buck Clayton was lauded as one of the most reliable and inventive players from his early career in the ‘30s through his death in 1991. Born in Parsons, Kansas, in 1911, Wilbur “Buck” Clayton’s musical alliances ranged extensively beyond the Kansas scene. In 1934 he joined pianist Teddy Weatherford’s band on its tour to the Orient; he took over the leadership after Weatherford died, and stayed in Shanghai for a couple of years with the band.
After returning to the U.S., Clayton joined Lionel Hampton for a very brief time and fortuitously took over Hot Lips Page’s chair in Count Basie’s band in the throws of some reorganization; he promptly became Basie’s principal jazz trumpet soloist. In fact, he was single-handedly shouldering the bulk of the load for the entire brass selection until Harry ‘Sweets’ Edison’s arrival. Clayton was highly favored by Basie during his tenure between 1936 and 1943 bracketing Basie’s hot, swinging days, propelled by Basie’s piano plus the famed triumvirate of Freddie Green, Walter Page and Jo Jones in the rhythm section.
In retrospect, it was auspicious that Clayton was with Basie at the time as Clayton’s excellent albeit lightly subtle musical knowledge and keen insight were put into creative advantage by way of his solos on a healthy stack of Basie band classics. Likewise, his attractive and effective arrangements were a boon to the Basie bandbook – e.g., Taps Miller, Down for Double and It’s Sand, Man. In all, Buck Clayton helped the Basie band to make a good bit of jazz history.
The context Clayton is especially remarkable in is small group settings. A good example of his thoughtfully built statements is his solo on Way Down Yonder in New Orleans with the Kansas City Six. Moreover, witness the very numerous historically important small group records featuring Clayton with Lester Young, Teddy Wilson, vocalists Billie Holiday and Mildred Bailey and others. His canny ability to construct his supportive, sensitive solo comments – both long and short – helped to elevate those magnificent performances to even more quality than they might have otherwise represented. The approach he used in accompanying vocalists deserves notice. Playing behind a singer, the lyrics demand to be heard and the accompanist must pick the areas and spots that are somewhat open, enhancing the singer and the lyrics. Clayton could accomplish precisely that assignment – backing up a vocalist and putting the right notes at the right places and never intrude the vocal.
“Buck is so much like Louis Armstrong because you couldn’t possibly find a note that “pops” or Buck played that didn’t fit the chords or progressions,” Clark Terry described enthusiastically. “They couldn’t play a wrong note because they didn’t know how to play a wrong note.” The beauty of Clayton’s logic and the exquisite taste in his choice of notes and phrases seem so natural, yet the careful manner he organizes his music reflects the bold design of unexpectedness.
If Clayton had put down his horn after those revered early years, his contributions would have been sufficient to merit a highly respectable degree of historical significance. His distinctive, uncluttered open horn was well articulated. While he chose to focus in the low to middle registers, he was much more powerful and extensive in range than generally perceived. For instance, his majestic work on Fiesta in Blue with Basie in 1941 -- a long held favorite -- is a case in point. As Terry said, “Buck’s chops are phenomenal! Most people weren’t keenly aware of this…he could hit the notes up there where cats who considered themselves speech players would hit.” There are good examples of his open sound on this album. Likewise his nimble use of the cup mute and subtle improvisations take on such a personal character and refined, dulcet sound that it is easy to see how his place would have been difficult for an alternate player to assume. Few trumpeters can play with such symmetry and controlled simplicity – widely separated notes, laconic phrases and basic tautness.
In April 1961 an octet led by Clayton played concerts at the Paris Olympia Music Hall. For this recording, only his rhythm section was included, augmented by guitarist Jean Bonal. Logically, there is a hint of the Basie tradition. The great homogeneity of the group comes from a good deal of common vocabulary. Pianist Sir Charles Thompson is a versatile musician. Bassist Gene Ramey, like Thompson, carries the stamp of the K.C. experience. Drummer Oliver Jackson’s strong swinging drive and fine cymbal work fit the groove. The entire section with Clayton spins a tale one tune after another, kindled by a mature, big swing feel. Buck Clayton and company pulled it off in Paris.