Drummer
Frank Capp passed away after a long and successful career on September 12.
Frank had an arc to his career that was similar to many interviewees from the
Fillius Jazz Archive collection. Musicians like guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli,
pianist Dick Hyman, and saxophonist Ernie Watts began their career playing jazz
and swing with big bands and small combos. When the big bands faded from the
scene in the 1950s many of these musicians found lucrative work in the
recording studios on both the east and west coasts. Their versatility enabled
them to play on every kind of recording imaginable. The drums you hear on Sonny
& Cher’s “The Beat Goes On” and “I Got You Babe” were played by Frank Capp.
He could go from a rock & roll date to a movie soundtrack stage, and in our
interview he described such a session:
MR: Give us a little idea of what a typical
studio date would be like.
FC: Well let me example something like a motion
picture session. You’d be given a call by a contractor to be at Warner Brothers
Studio or Universal or MGM, whatever, and you’d go to the studio at 9 o’clock
in the morning, and there would be 60, 70 musicians, depending. It could be a
small group too, but a lot of pictures used at that time, large orchestras. And
you walk in, and the librarian hands out the music. You open it to page one and
play. Here it is: one-two-three play. And you have to play that music like you
wrote it, or like you’ve been playing it for — rarely in those days did you get
a chance to play it more than twice. Maybe three times. You’d run it down for
notes, to make sure there was no copying errors. And then you begin recording.
And if it was a tight budget picture, which is the case now, you don’t get a
second chance. You’re on the edge of your seat at all times.
Around 1976
Frank left the 9-5 recording studio life and returned to his first love, which
was big band jazz. His passion was
shared by his friend, pianist Nat Pierce. The well known big band named Juggernaut
came about serendipitously as many musical ventures do.
FC: Our first album was just called Juggernaut.
And the reason it was called Juggernaut is because Nat and I put the band
together for a one-night situation to help a guy who was running big bands at a
club called King Arthur’s in the San Fernando Valley. And he had hired Neal
Hefti’s band and Neal disbanded before the engagement came up. And I was
contracting for Neal, so the club owner asked me to put a big band together. I
did. I got Nat, we went out, and we called it “A Tribute to Count Basie.” And
we worked that first night, and that was all it was going to be. And the crowd
liked it so much, and the club owner liked it so much, he said, “You’ve got to
come back next week.” Well we did and we came back subsequent weeks for a
couple of months, and Leonard Feather, the jazz critic for the L.A. Times at
that point, came out to review the band. And the next day in his article it
said, “A juggernaut on Basie Street.” That was the title of the review. So at
that particular time, everybody had a name to the band. Buddy Rich had the Big
Band Machine, and Louie Bellson had Big Band Explosion, and everybody, they
were putting a tag on all of it. So I said, “Nat, let’s use the name
‘Juggernaut.’” So we subsequently recorded that first album, and Carl Jefferson
from Concord said, “Let’s call the album ‘Juggernaut.’” I kind of wish that we
never used the word quite frankly, because people don’t know how to spell it.
They are forever asking me what is a Juggernaut, and a lot of people call it
“Juggernauts” and it’s not a plural.
The Webster
dictionary defines Juggernaut as “an irresistible force” and the Capp-Pierce
big band was certainly that. Their second album, “Live at the Century Plaza,” featured
our favorite singer, Joe Williams, in an spontaneously-created 11-minute tune
called “Joe’s Blues.”
Frank was a
man of strong opinions, especially about the role of music, and jazz in
particular:
FC: This country’s got its values all screwed up.
Musicians who spend and devote their life to become really facile on their
instruments and help create pleasure for people, make nothing. And some
athletic dummy, you know, goes out and bangs his head against somebody else’s
helmet and they make millions and millions. But that’s another story.
MR: Well we feel that this music is such a big
part of this country.
FC: It is, it is. Thank God — I could kiss you
for saying that. I mean it’s America’s heritage, you know?
From the
Fillius archive, here is a link to the full YouTube interview I
conducted with Frank on September 3, 1995.