2017-10-11 2-5pm
Tiny
Bradshaw 1934-1951
Siegel-Schwall
Blues Band 1966-1970 Henry Butler 1998
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If you only have time to read one of this show’s
essays, I recommend you go to the very last one. It tells the interesting story of Walter Barnes,
of whom I have no music, and the tragedy that ended his career. Instead, I present Tiny Bradshaw who
originally had committed to that performance.
Also featured is the Siegel-Schwall Blues Band, one of the Chicago Blues
bands coming out of the ‘60s. The
Bradshaw write-up is a little dry but there are plenty of quotes to spice up
the Siegel-Schwall piece.
To
round it all out we have Henry Butler, a contemporary player in New Orleans’
long tradition of piano masters (they call them Professors) which include
Professor Longhair, James Booker, Champion Jack Dupree, Fats Domino, Dr. John,
etc., etc.. I can’t remember the last
time I played an artist who was still alive in this century, but I believe he
fits right in today (or maybe any day).
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The musical career of Tiny Bradshaw, born Myron Carlton Bradshaw to Cicero P. Bradshaw
and his wife Lillian Boggess in Youngstown, Ohio on September 23rd
1905, had its beginning at Wilberforce University (he graduated with a degree
in psychology) where Horace Henderson, younger brother of Fletcher Henderson,
had put together a band from the attendees, Horace Henderson’s Collegians. Bradshaw became drummer and a featured singer
by the mid-20s. Over time, the group
gained an expanding tour base including West Virginia, Kentucky, Michigan,
Indiana and even Pennsylvania, winding up attaining a summer residence at New
York’s Bamville club in 1927. Reportedly,
the Collegians defeated one of the nation’s three most popular bands of the
time, McKinney’s Cotton Pickers, in a battle of the bands in Detroit. The group disbanded in 1928 and Tiny moved to
New York to further his musical endeavors.
After putting in his time in little known ensembles,
Bradshaw appeared as the drummer for Marion Hardy’s Alabamians by the middle of
1932. The band had earlier provided Cab
Calloway his start, but by the end of the year they had fallen apart. Tiny moved on for a short period with Duncan
Myer’s Savoy Bearcats before winding up 1932 in the Mills Blue Rhythm Band as a
drummer and vocalist. The front man for
Mills was the flamboyant Jimmy Ferguson, who went by the stage name Baron Lee,
and his influence along with Calloway’s provided the direction for Bradshaw’s
personna.
Tiny had given up the drums in favor of leading the band
from center stage. Dizzy Gillespie explained in his autobiography, To Be or Not to Bop,
“It was the legacy of guys that danced out in front of a band at that
time. They had a whole group of these
guys, Lucky Millinder, Cab Calloway, Tiny Bradshaw, Baron Lee and Bardu Ali,
who was in front of Chick Webb’s band.
They’d have someone in front to wave a baton and jump around and dance
and maybe sing a song.” Dizzy recalled
working with Tiny when Diz was in Frankie Fairfax’ band. “Right after New Year 1936, Tiny Bradshaw
came through Philadelphia, he had a gig down in Charlotte, North Carolina, but
didn’t have a band, so he hired Frankie’s whole band. Later Tiny Bradshaw came through town again
and needed a trumpet section to go to Baltimo9re to play in the Astoria
Ballroom down there. He was offering a
nice little piece of money. We hadn’t
been making that kind of money and since Charlie (Shavers) and Bama (Carl
Warwick) weren’t at home anyway, they accepted the job and tried to get me to
go along with them. Since I wouldn’t go
they took Frank Galbraith.”
Tiny sang with Luis Russell’s Orchestra briefly before
forming his own band in 1934, quickly getting a summer residency at Coney
Island’s Renaissance Ballroom where Decca signed him to their recently formed
label. Bradshaw and his 13-piece backing
group laid down four numbers on September 19th 1934, then four more
two weeks later on October 3rd.
A couple of noteworthy members were trumpeter Shad Collins and Russell
Procope on alto sax.
The orchestra remained popular but it was not until 1944
that Tiny would return to a studio, this time for the Regis label, producing
four tunes. Alto saxist Sonny Stitt is
the only recognizable name (to me) among the fourteen band members. Bradshaw next recorded for Manor, a Regis
affiliate, while playing a long residency at the Rhumboogie Club in Chicago in
February of 1945 and one last time back in New York during 1946 or early 1947.
By the time of the sole Savoy session on March 11th
1951, Tiny had reduced the number of musicians behind him to seven, most
notable among them being pianist Wild Bill Davis who was then performing with
Louis Jordan’s ensemble, and Curley Russell, who would become perhaps the most
desired bassist in the Bop era. From the
discographies I have available, the Bradshaw band would stabilize between six
and eight players from then on.
Late in 1949, Bradshaw signed on to the King label and
went into the studio November 30th.
Their next session, February 8th, created Well Oh Well, which
climbed to the #2 spot on the R&B best sellers in May 1950 and remained in
the top ten for 21 weeks. Walkin’ the
Chalk Line from the same session charted #10 for one week in September 1951.
The June 8th 1950 recording date brought out
not only the title track from the CD pair of discs we use today, Breaking up
the House on Proper Records, but also I’m Going to Have Myself a Ball, which
hit #5 in October.
All the King sessions were held in the label’s hometown
of Cincinnati with the exception of the January 16th 1951 date. Perhaps due to the location, some personnel
changes were made; trumpeter Leslie Ayers, pianist Jimmy “Bee Bee” Robinson and
drummer Calvin “Eagle Eyes” Shields were on all the King dates through July 25th
1951, the last session on the CD set, and alto and bari saxist Orrington Hall
left after the New York date. At that
time Andrew Penn, who had been with Tiny on the 1944 session, was added to the
lineup and afterward his trombone essentially replaced Hall’s alto. Bassist Eddie Smith and guitarist Willie
Gaddy were new for that session, but the main newcomer would be tenor saxman
Red Prysock.
Prysock joined in late 1950 after stints in Tiny Grimes’ Rocking
Highlanders and Roy Milton’s Solid Senders.
After his participation in hits like Annie Laurie, Red couldn’t go with
Grimes’ idea to put the band in kilts.
On his next move, Red’s intensity didn’t quite fit with Milton’s
mellower sound, hence his move to Bradshaw’s ensemble.
Tiny would stay with King into 1955 and had two hit instrumentals in 1953, Soft which reached #3 and Heavy Juice, which reached #9, both featuring Prysock. Other additions to the band toward the end of his King tenure included bassist Charles Mingus, altoist Lou Donadson and pianist Art Blakey and at the very end tenor saxists Noble Watts and Sil Austin. His band backed up other of the label’s artists such as Roy Brown, Bull Moose Jackson and the most influential guitarist of early Jazz and Blues, Lonnie Johnson.. Tiny suffered a stroke in 1954 that rendered him partially paralyzed and kept him from touring until 1958, the same year he died from a second stroke.
*************************
1965, it seems everybody is listening to
the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. Johnny
Hammond, son of the legendary Blues and Jazz talent scout, had already put out
three albums but, despite the good taste he inherited from his father, the fact
that he stayed true to the original mostly acoustic style of the songs he chose
made him more of a folk revivalist than a Blues rocker. The same can be said for the Minnesota trio
of guitarist “Spider” John Koerner,
twelve string picker Dave “Snaker” Ray and harmonica master Tony “Little Sun” Glover,
whose first album came out in 1963.
These were the main white proponents of the Blues that I recall until
John Mayall’s first American release (with Eric Clapton) in 1966 and the 1967
arrival of Charlie Musselwhite’s South Side Band. These were the guys who got me seeking the
music of guys like Muddy Waters, Elmore James, Freddie King and Sonny Boy
Williamson II. They also created the
illusion that a Blues band required a harmonica player.
The self-titled 1966 debut Siegel-Schwall Blues Band album showed
glimpses of a bright future as a fully-electric ensemble that chose its
material wisely. Much like the first
Butterfield album, it was filled with contemporary Chicago Blues which both
bands were immersed in. Still, it was
their rendition of the old-timey Bring it with You When You Come (with Schwall
playing mandolin) from their 1967 second LP Say Siegel-Schwall that kept
running through my head since I started working on the Cannon’s Jug Stompers
sets from last month (they were the originators of the 1928 tune) and caused me
to include them today.
“Jim was studying composition. He was playing guitar and I was playing sax
in the University Jazz Big Band, though I hadn’t noticed him. My major was actually classical saxophone,
but at one point I got interested in the Blues, in ’64. A couple friends played Dylan-style
harmonica, and when I heard Blues records, and heard what Blues harp sounded
like and saw how easy it fit into your pocket as opposed to tenor sax, I was
hooked. Also, I think Blues was the
source of other forms of music I loved, and when I first heard the Blues it
really struck something inside me and drew my interest completely in that
direction. It felt familiar to me, part
of me.” The drummer from the first three
albums, Russ Chadwick, was also a member of the Roosevelt University Jazz band
and the bass player from their debut LP, Jos Davidson, also attended the
university. The group remained a four
piece throughout their Vanguard years with Jack Dawson providing bass on the
next two albums.
“I started playing guitar because of the folk revival
of the late ‘50s while I was still in high school, playing Weavers kind of
things. Then I joined Bluegrass bands,
and although the banjo usually played the variations, I began playing melodic
leads on guitar instead of just chords.
But I was influenced by Blues players like Big Bill Broonzy, Lightnin’
Hopkins, Robert Pete Williams, Lonnie Johnson.
Some of the urban-type players like Broonzy and Brownie McGhee – guys
who played definite twelve bar patterns and chord changes that can be predicted
so other instruments can play along – used to come through Chicago. By the mid-60s I started playing with Corky.”
“I’d just started learning Blues and he had begun to
play harmonica – Jim played harmonica much better than I did. But he was a great guitar player and singer
and we immediately put together a two-man band.
I had a Wurlitzer electric piano, he had an old beat-up acoustic guitar with
an electric pickup, literally bandaged together.” As a duo, they shared vocals with Corky
playing harmonica with a bass drum and high hat beneath his piano while being
accompanied by Jim’s guitar.
One of their first gigs was at Pepper’s Lounge where they soon became the Thursday night
house band backing whomever came in to jam, including names like Otis Spann,
Hound Dog Taylor, Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy, Little Walter Jacobs, Big Walter
“Shakey” Horton, Jams Cotton and Junior Wells.
As Corky recalls, “Our first experience in Blues was with the greats.
Picture these two young fellows, early 20s, late ’64 or so, with drums
underneath the piano and acoustic guitar.
I guess Johnny Pepper found us hard to resist, except he insisted on
replacing my feet with whole musicians!”
The first rhythm section was drummer Billy Davenport and bassist Bob
Anderson.
After a few months at Pepper’s, the boys took over a
residence at the North Side’s Big John’s, replacing the Butterfield Band as
they went on tour. Here they encountered
a new set of local players such as Butterfield and his two guitarists Elvin
Bishop and Mike Bloomfield, Steve Miller, Barry Goldberg, Sam Lay and, most
notably, Howlin’ Wolf. “He was my
favorite of all. He used to sit in with
Siegel-Schwall at Mother Blues. He was
definitely a Blues genius, like Muddy.
We went to New York together and played Café a Go-Go for two weeks, and
I used to take walks with him every day in the morning and got to know him
really well. He was like my grandfather
– he loved the band, but wanted me to cut my hair after I grew it long! And he said he liked our version of Down in
the Bottom, except I was playing the piano riff backwards!”
It was at Big John’s that Blues historian and producer
Samuel Charters hears the band. “I just
walked into the club and fell in love. They
had excitement and freshness, and a complete commitment to what they were
doing.” Charters promptly signed them to
Vanguard. Corky says, “We went into
Universal Recording Studios in Chicago, played the songs once and left. We didn’t know about multiple takes or
anything, just played our whole set, which is as long as the record is.”
After the album’s release, the band found a niche for
a while in the San Francisco scene, sharing the bill with many of the area’s
top acts, and also had an impact on the East Coast. Again, Corky recalls, “We played The Bitter
End and Steve Paul’s Scene, where Tiny Tim used to open shows – and he was
great. Jim and Tiny Tim even used to jam
together!”
The cover for the follow-up 1967 album, Say
Siegel-Schwall, was photographed at the Scene, and Corky talks about New York’s
Vanguard studio where the taping was done.
“The echo chamber was in the downstairs washroom and we’d have to stop
in the middle of a take if someone flushed a toilet!” The 1968 LP Shake was also recorded in New
York.
In the meantime, Siegel-Schwall had been admired by
orchestra conductor Seiji Ozawa after hearing them at Big John’s and they first
performed with him in 1968 while he was guest conductor of the Chicago
Symphony. They later recorded William
Russo’s Three Pieces for a Blues Band with Ozawa and the San Francisco Symphony,
released in 1973 on Deutsche Grammophon, and performed with other symphonies
including a PBS concert with Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops Orchestra.
After taking some time off recovering from their
rigorous touring, Siegel and Schwall were back with the new rhythm section of
drummer Shelly Plotkin and bassist Rollo Radford for their final album for
Vanguard, Siegel-Schwall ’70. The same
lineup recorded five albums for Wooden Nickel through 1975, but the CD Where We
Walked (1966-1970) covers only the Vanguard years. The first two LPs hit my turntable many times
in the 60s and 70s and I picked up Shake at a flea market but seldom listened
to it. This CD is the first time I heard
the fourth album and the later ones would be an entirely new experience.
After
their break-up in 1974, Alligator Records got them back together for the 1987
album, The siegel-Schwall Reunion Concert.
Schwall taught music at a university in Kalamazoo, Michigan, while
Siegel continued his melding of Classical music and Blues with his group
Chamber Blues, and every now and then they got back together to perform.
*************************
I did something different this time around; I added a
couple of tunes by artists other than the three we highlighted today. For the first time in recent memory, I didn’t
have to cut out tracks to bring the time low enough to fit on two CD-Rs. There is a two-song set that I was hoping I’d
have room for. After Bradshaw’s original
1951 version of Train Kept a-Rolling, I included the 1956 Johnny Burnett version which became the template for future
versions of the song by the Yardbirds from 1965, Aerosmith in 1974 and
presumably Motorhead, although I am not familiar with that last version from
1978.
And
right from the get go I wanted to leave room for Howlin’ Wolf’s The Natchez Burning because he sings about the
unnatural disaster we discuss in the next segment. Because I have no Walter Barnes music, I
chose to play Tiny Bradshaw today. I
think Barnes had an interesting story and definitely feel the tragedy deserves
telling.
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One of the early
casualties of the depression of 1929 was the TOBA circuit (Theater Operator’s
Booking Association, better known to the artists as Tough On Black Asses), the
organization which booked the black vaudeville acts, then fell apart around
1931 as the owners sold their theaters to the "talkies" industry,
leaving the black musicians, who had become dependent upon it, to fend for
themselves as far as booking gigs.
Reduced to their own connections, the range of touring became limited to
much shorter distances, as well as usually in less of a straight line, and the
term regional territory bands became familiar throughout the South and
Midwest.
However, whenever
there is a problem there are also those willing to try to solve it, even though
the motivation often becomes personal gain.
Around 1932 Walter Barnes, bandleader and columnist for the Chicago
Defender, a publication that was both well respected and well distributed
throughout the South, took it upon himself to post where the bands would be
playing. In exchange for this, the bands
were happy to inform Barnes of their accumulated knowledge of promoters and
their venues as well as black-friendly places for food and lodging. The collection of this information not only
helped Barnes on his own band's touring schedule, but its publication made it
easier on the other bands to fill their shows and survive the tours more
comfortably, while also informing the local promoters which ensembles would be
in or heading to their area.
Barnes
became known on the music scene in 1928 when his 14-piece orchestra, the Royal
Creolians, made some recordings on the Brunswick label. He later held a gig as the house band at Al
Capone's Cotton Club in Cicero, Illinois.
Walter went to try to get live broadcasts from the club at a local radio
station, but was informed, "We don't air colored". After Capone heard how the meeting went, the
two went back to the radio station where Capone is reported to have said,
"You do now." In late 1930,
radio WHFC made Barnes' outfit the first black big band from Chicago to
broadcast live.
On
his tours, Barnes would have someone precede the band into the towns to spread
the word in any way they could, including circulating flyers or getting Barnes'
records on jukeboxes in the area, even visiting the local gossip mills such as
beauty salons and barber shops, all the while giving passes to those who helped
in putting out the word. His hype in the
Defender was always exaggerated in favor of the venues or their promoters,
using the strongest superlatives to praise his band.
The
Moneywasters, an informal men's club in Natchez, Mississippi, had put together
a dance concert set for Tuesday night, April the 23rd of 1940, to follow the
local black high school's commencement ceremony. Tiny Bradshaw was booked for the show, but
when a week-long opportunity to play Harlem's Apollo Theater came up, he
cancelled. Being familiar with the
Defender's knowledge regarding who might be available to fill the gig, the club
contacted Dorothy Barnes, who had just returned home from her usual touring
with the band to make arrangements for the Kings of Swing's homecoming on the 24th. She immediately contacted her husband, saying
she had added one last gig to the tour.
The
show was held in a wood frame building with tin nailed to the studs forming the
walls. Dried Spanish moss was draped
from the rafters and down the walls and then lightly sprayed with kerosene to
keep the mosquitoes at bay. In order to
separate the non-payers from the fun, all the windows were boarded over and
only the main entrance door was accessible.
About three hours into the show Barnes, with his back to the audience,
noticed a look of terror in the faces of his bandsmen and realized the
situation; with only one exit and himself and the band the furthest from it, he
deduced the only chance of escaping the rapidly accelerating flames was to keep
playing so a calmer crowd might evacuate in a more orderly fashion, but the
fire just spread too quickly.
Although few of the revelers
were actually burned, 209 died that night mostly of smoke inhalation,
suffocation, or being trampled to death, including the 34 -year-old Barnes, his
nineteen-year-old female singer, and nine members of the band, excepting only
drummer Oscar Brown, who had pushed out one of the boarded up windows and
jumped to safety. Instead of a
homecoming celebration for the band, a funeral for bandleader and journalist
Walter Barnes was held on April 30th with a crowd of 15,000 in attendance,
according to the Defender. The incident
was the subject of several songs, the only one I can think of being Howlin’
Wolf’s The Natchez Burning.
*************************
Since it is still relatively new, I thought I’d
mention that KKUP is now streaming on the internet and, while it is still in a
developing stage, we have been putting out the word. I’m not all of that good with high-tech
stuff, but it seems pretty easy to access.
If you go to our website at KKUP.org you will see on the home page a
strip of options immediately above the pictures of the musicians the next to
the last option being LISTEN ONLINE. By
clicking this, it brings up a choice of desktop or mobile. I can only speak for the desktop but after
maybe a minute I was receiving a crystal clear feed. As already mentioned, this is still a work in
progress and we are currently limited to a finite number of listeners at any
one time. I mention this so you will be
aware to turn off the application when you are not actually listening. (I put the player in my favorites bar for the
easiest of access.) Now we can reach our
listeners in Los Gatos and Palo Alto, even my family in Canada. Let your friends elsewhere know they can now
listen to your favorite station, and while they have the home page open they
can check out our schedule.
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Shout, Sister, ShoutMister, Will You Serenade
Darktown Strutters’ Ball
Ol’ Man River
I’m a Ding Dong Daddy
She’ll Be Coming ‘Round the Mountain
Bradshaw Bounce
V-2
Schoolday Blues
Take the Hands Off the Clock
I’ve Been Around
Tiny Bradshaw 30mins
Down in the Bottom
Goin’ to New YorkI Liked it Where We Walked
I Have Had All I Can Take
Do You Remember
Louise, Louise Blues
Tell Me
The Siegel-Schwall Blues Band 21mins
I’ve Got My Eyes on You
Relaxing Blues
Butler’s Boogie
Death Has No Mercy
Tee Na Na
Tetherball
Henry Butler 28mins
Gravy Train
Walkin’ the Chalk LineWell Oh Well
I’m Gonna Have Myself a Ball
Breakin’ Up the House
One, Two, Three, Kick Blues
Walk That Mess
Snaggle Tooth Ruth
Brad’s Blues
Two Dry Bones on the Pantry Shelf
The Blues Came Pouring Down
I’m a Hi’ballin’ Daddy
Knockin’ Blue
The Train Kept a-Rolin’
Tiny Bradshaw 35mins
The Train Kept a-Rolling
The Johnny Burnette TrioThe Natchez Burning
Howlin’ Wolf 4mins
Bring it with You When You Come
So Glad You’re MineMama Papa
Slow Blues in A
I Don’t Want You to Be My Girl
Think
A Sunshine Day in My Mind
The Siegel-Schwall Blues Band 32mins
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