Raymond Scott “Powerhouse”

One of the legendary Carl Stalling/Raymond Scott collaborations appeared in the Looney Toons classic, “Swooner Crooner”…instilled in our youthful sub-conscious, our eyes & ears fixated by Saturday morning television, circa early 60’s. We were introduced to many great works of classical, jazz and pop music this way, the music videos of my childhood…
view the original cartoon here!
And enjoy this rare video of the Raymond Scott Quintet in action!

Also, check out this version extraordinaire by harmonica virtuosi, The Philharmonicas.

Record Town – Fort Worth, Texas 1975

It was the late 60’s when highway & urban sprawl overtook our little downtown centers, and record shops. Most couldn’t survive the competition from the high volume low price retailers in the suburban malls and shopping strips. Discount Records, Camelot Music, Sound Warehouse, Music Land, Sam Goody’s, Tower Records…most all gone now, replaced by the internet, after themselves replacing the neighborhood music stores of my childhood. Having worked a few of these “superstores” across New England, I was at first stunned at the amount of product and merchandising they required to maintain, and then repulsed & resentful of their very existence. Who were these wretched moguls that dared to mass merchandise the music I cherished?! (I miss the youthful naiveté in myself.) They lacked the ambiance, and the charm of the mom and pop music shop, and killed them off in the process.

A road trip to Texas in 1975 renewed my faith, and encouraged my outlook towards the resiliency, and future of the family store… the phonolog of record collectibles, the magazines, the family of musicians, and music lovers. Record Town on South University Dr, in the Texas Christian University district of Fort Worth, has survived as a stand alone (no internet) bricks and mortar record and music shop for over forty years.

I was privileged to have worked at this store back in the day, just to witness the amount of love that’s required to keep a music store running, against all odds. The family patriarch, a working musician and a record lover, raised two more boys with the same proclivities, on the shoulders of this record shop, and his loving and supportive wife. The store was, and will continue to be, a vital hearth in a vibrant music community.

My adult world music education began at this little record shop, at age 20. The drummer/guitarists/owners played many fine LPs of jazz & R&B, tex-mex & country blues. The musicians that passed through, and played locally at little clubs like The Hop, were an invigorating resource, and right hospitable folk. Local college faculty assisted in a rudimentary education of classical music (Van Cliburn’s Rachmaninoff being a local favorite). A small community theater next door presented musical and drama repertoire, and the Casa Mana Theater, and Will Rogers Coliseum hosted larger theater & live events. Along with the Museum & Cultural district, and the vibrant local community of multi-lingual musicians and historians, the record shop was a rich & vital info distribution center.

I was lucky to be there, in that mom & pop record shop, in 1975. Went back for a short stint in the ’90s, and was recently informed that it still stands as an epicenter of all things musical in Fort Worth.

Sure, you can find the latest & greatest, and instantly download from the internet. Of course, you can “Google it” to find out anything about anything. But when you can get out of the house, away from the computer, and browse through some record bins, go to a movie house, see a theater performance or live concert, you too, can be lucky to be there, before it’s all gone.

These musicians met through the shop, and at The Hop, and are featured here as the second edition of The Juke Jumpers on 1978’s “Panther City Blues”…enjoy!

Anytown, U.S.A. circa 1960’s

Before the interstates and shopping malls, and roads leading to anywhere but home, there were glamorous movie theaters downtown, with red velvet curtains & elaborate balconies. Drive-in movie screens were sprouting like giant sunflowers all through out the countryside. Going to the movies was a wonderful family tradition, an escape into fantasy, a primer for the hard knocks to come in life, and suggestions on ways to deal with them.

The downtown theaters were an easy bus ride on a Saturday morning, and those trips included walking and window shopping, to the music store for lessons, the five & dime for hobby supplies, the Woolworth’s for back to school clothes (maybe a stop at the lunch counter), the newstand for candy, and into the fabric covered seats of the theater, for another trip to a place & time, far away.

When these downtown excursions were governed by my mother, we saw family fare, wonderful musicals such as The West Side Story, The Sound Of Music, Mary Poppins, just about anything & everything Disney. We also experienced live orchestral performances on the theater stage, exposing us to the great classical works in the form of Peter & The Wolf, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, The Ride of the Valkyries…imaginations ran wild.

On a weekend evening, my father took us all to an action packed drive-in adventure, dressed in our pj’s, where at one point or another, we were told to shield our eyes from the horrors happening in a Vincent Price film, to a sexy scene from a James Bond adventure. Occasional diversions to the playground, or concession stand, wore us out sufficiently, and we were crashed in the back of the station wagon come the second feature.

A bi-monthly bus trip to the downtown movie house, or a rural drive-in theater, side trips to the public library, plus four network television stations, radio, and our record players were all we needed to stimulate our senses, encourage creative thinking, expand our culture knowledge, and learn how to play well with others.

Flash forward to today, where all the above stimulation can be had by a click of a mouse, or a remote control, or a game controller, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. The one thing missing, the most important lesson, is the learning to work and play well, with others.

Hope it’s not lost on future generations.

That said, let’s enjoy together Side 1 of the lilting, fun-loving soundtrack to Walt Disney’s “Babes In Toyland”, starring Annette Funicello & Tommy Sands, based on the Victor Herbert musical comedy. I believe we saw this at the Elmwood Theater, or possibly the long gone Strand Theater, in downtown New Britain, CT. Most appropriate for the upcoming holiday season, and a wonderful vision of the snow covered city center dressed in it’s Christmas finery just washed over me!

For unlimited access to vintage LP soundtrack rips, visit here.

Newport Jazz Festival – Memories from the Road 1971

“Twenty thousand people enjoyed the music of Dave Brubeck, Cannonball Adderly, Herbie Mann, Dizzy Gillespie and Gerry Mulligan. On the night of July 3, 1971, as Dionne Warwick sang ”What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love,” a mob of young gate crashers broke through a fence and stormed the stage.”

“They also drove the Newport Jazz Festival out of town: George Wein, the festival’s impresario, took his event, which had clearly outgrown the seaport, to New York City.”

above text courtesy of The New York Times

I was there that evening, on Miantomoni Hill,  and watched in dismay as a spirit of uncontrollable drunkenness and anxiety overwhelmed a large group of students, 20 or so, who thought it their absolute duty to crash the fence for a closer look, despite having not paid for the privilege.

Dionne was singing, a virtuoso performance,  an ironic choice of song,  and the Allman Brothers Band were due up next, who couldn’t have been hotter, following the release of the 2 LP set of  Live At The Fillmore East.  The feeling of anticipation was palpable, thick like molasses, and sharp as Vermont cheddar.

As the fence started to go, and drunks crossed over onto Festival Field, we peaceniks yelled at the hooligans to be cool (chill out) but a momentum began that sucked in at least a hundred or so, at which point numerous scuffles began to break out,  congeal,  and  move, like a tidal wave, toward the stage. There was smoke and gas, and we were awoke from a hazy stupor around 7 AM the following morning by police in riot gear, suggesting, through bullhorns, that we collect our things, quickly, and vacate the area.  Half hour later, our thumbs were pointed towards  Hampton Beach.

I was content to sit, and camp on the hillside that evening,  38+ years ago, having hitch hiked from CT that summer day with a couple of high school friends, and all of us, from all over the world, woven together on that hillside, were tolerated nicely by parks management, until the fracas. Quite far from stage left, we could still hear beautifully, thanks to the PA system graciously provided by our hosts, and the natural acoustics of the lawn & hillside.

Having arrived in the mid afternoon a few hours earlier, we setup a few lean-tos and tents and a well tended campfire, over which we cooked wieners, & toasted marshmallows, & joints…drank’ wine, spo dee o dee, and awaited the arrival of the Allman Brothers Band, which sadly, would have been one of Duane’s final performances, before his untimely death a few months later. There was a feeling of community, before the unruly crowd appeared, as we set up sites that afternoon, and shared commodities with strangers. A festival that began in Newport R.I. the year I was born, and crashed in Newport 17 years later… the only time I attended. No, I don’t take it personally.

It rose from the ashes, however, and lives on today…back home where it belongs.

Has anyone from that original group of 20 or so ever thought about the far reaching consequences of their actions that night?

If so, we hope they also considered social recompense.

Having shared that experience with you, let’s now listen in on an earlier time at Newport, 1959, to some of the most stunning jazz performances of the century by Dakota Staton,  Count Basie,  Joe Williams,  Lambert Hendricks & Ross &  Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers with Hank Mobley and Lee Morgan

To download, click here

To purchase a Newport Jazz Festival performance, archived on vinyl media, click here.