The Bass Solo

Most of us have heard the jokes about bass solos: A couple complains to a marriage counselor that they’ve lost any ability to communicate. The counselor leads them down the hall and into a room where a jazz trio is playing. Just as they take their seats the bass solo starts, and immediately the couple starts talking to one another.

Or, the short version: Q: What happens when the bassist starts to solo? A: No one knows, everyone starts talking.

There’s some truth to this. Why is it that audience attention tends to wander when it’s time for the bassist to have his/her moment in the spotlight? I’ve given a lot of thought to it, and recently two incidents increased my focus.

I was listening to a wonderful Benny Carter CD, a 5-piece saxophone section with piano, bass and drums. In one particular tune, after multiple choruses of soloing by Benny Carter and Frank Wess, the bassist had his solo spot. Immediately I reached for the volume control.

Last week during my college radio show I was playing one of my own CDs which features Keter Betts on bass. During one song it was Keter’s turn in the spotlight. Once again I went for the volume control.

The string bass has always been a difficult instrument to amplify and record, and when it comes time for their solo they are often close to inaudible. In addition, have you ever noticed what the other musicians in a small jazz group do when it’s time for the bass to have its say? Typically they all stop. Is it any wonder that the audience attention can wander? When the sax, trumpet and piano solo, they are backed up by the bass and drums, providing both the groove and the song form. Then the bassist gets handed the ball and the rest of the team walks off the court. Admittedly there is an acoustic issue about playing during a bass solo. Any extra sound from horns, piano and drums tends to drown out the bass and cause them to play at a volume that is inconsistent with the feel of the music. If it’s not hard enough already, the bassist is usually the last in line for soloing. Just when the hands are going numb they become the focus.

Bassist Chubby Jackson, a veteran of the Woody Herman band, commented on this phenomenon:

Chubby Jackson

MR:    I’m always impressed by the physicality that must have been required to be an acoustic bass player at those times. I think of you back there, with, like you said, very little amplification, driving that whole band. Did you ever experience any physical harm?

CJ:    Oh yeah. A lot of times your arms get numb, your fingers too. You’re playing and all of a sudden they start to shake because your whole body is carried away with what’s expected of you. But physically at that moment, you’re not up to it. You know what I mean? Because everybody else in the band has a moment to sit with the horn in their lap, until the end of time. I said “the end of time.” You like it?

MR:    I picture some of those jam sessions where the horn players are lined up and playing “I Got Rhythm” and they come up for four or five choruses, next guy. And you guys are back there.

CJ:    Yeah. And then someone looks at you and said “take one.” Jeez. Take one. That’s the laugh of the century, when somebody points to the bass player, after 28 choruses have been in front, and your hands are in one of these. You know you walk around — I had hands on me that were so ugly, I used to keep my hands in my pockets all the time.

Chubby relied on his ebullient personality and stage presence to help him get through these trying physical moments.

I’ll admit that my jazz attitudes fall more in line with the previous era. I don’t think a jazz combo needs to have a bass solo on every song, just like I don’t believe having a drum solo on every song is necessary. But I also believe that the standard (melody—everyone solos—melody) format can induce audience apathy.

Recently, Jay Leonhart, one of the finest bass players working today, visited Hamilton College. On the drive to the school from his hotel we were talking about making a living in the music world, and Jay casually stated, “no one hires me for my solos.” I had the opportunity to interview Jay the next day and asked him, then why do other musicians hire him?

Jay Leonhart

JL:    I was always making enough money to pay my bills, to do what I needed to do. And I always worked. And that was because, I mean I don’t mean to sound arrogant at all, but it’s because I’m at the top of the class in terms of what I can do on the bass, in terms of the various things I can do. You know, Broadway, jazz, even symphony if need be. Oh I’m not a great symphony player but I’ve done it. I can read anything. And I’m very skilled. And I’m one of the guys who makes a living at it. And there’s so many who don’t. There’s so many musicians who can’t because the competition is ferocious. And you’ve got to have everything. You know, what do bass players need? Good pitch. Good time. Good sense of music. Good musicianship. It goes on and on — that list of things that bass players need to know how to do. And if you don’t do it just great, there’s somebody right around the corner who does, and people are going to find out.

MR:    Plus don’t you have to add to that, to sort of be likeable — a personality that people are going to want to call you back because of the way you are?

JL:    Oh God yes. That’s very important. I mean in any business, in every business, people say, like Woody Allen says, most of work is just showing up. That’s what he says. Then people say well if you’re not easy to work with, people don’t want to work with you, and they won’t. And that will get around and all of a sudden you’ll be out of business.

I think bass players have to have a certain mindset. They need to be musically fulfilled and take pleasure by playing the most significant role in the rhythm section. For me, it all starts with the bass. There’s no other instrument that can provide both the time and the harmonic guidelines of a song like a string bass can. I’ve noticed a phenomenon in the last number of years: bassists who play their instrument like a saxophone. In other words, bass players who just aren’t satisfied with their role in the band and play as if they are responsible for both the melody and the soloing at the same time. Invariably the feel of the group suffers.

Here’s my own ideas about what might keep the audience conversation from peaking during the bass solo:

 • Break up the routine — find a different order for solos; instead of sax, trumpet piano, try having the bass be the first soloist.

• Let the bass play the melody — there’s an interesting concept — either a solo bass melody or in unison with one of the horn players. This will get the audience’s attention and let the bass player have a memorable moment.

• More bowed bass solos — it’s been my observation that when the bass player picks up his bow people perk up.

• The horns, piano and drums play hits (chords on the downbeats) during the bass solo, marking the time and keeping the audience with them while letting the bass fill the spaces in between. This works especially well with the 12-bar blues. Or, have the horns do what clarinetist Kenny Davern called “footballs” (barely audible whole notes on the chord tones).

• Consider limiting the bass solos, but limit everyone else’s solo as well. Vary the soloists on subsequent song selections. There’s no written rule in jazz etiquette books that horn players and piano players must solo on every song. Distribute them across your set and go for some variety.

My advice to young bass players echoes Jay Leonhart’s. For every hour you work on your technique and your bass soloing abilities, spend two hours learning to play time and memorizing the songs that you’ll be called upon to play.

Milt Hinton, the “Dean of Jazz Bassists” summed it up: the players in the rhythm section are providing a rhythmic service, don’t ever forget it.

The Scholastic Jazz Festival

Most junior high and high schools now support a jazz band, formerly called stage bands, formerly called big bands. March and April are the months when many directors take their jazz groups to juried festivals. I adjudicate at least one of these every year, and have seen them develop and change, mostly for the better. Many festivals are now set up in a less competitive fashion, avoiding those situations where a band wins “first place” by a margin of .1 (as at marching band competitions). Bands can earn a bronze, silver or gold rating, and individual players can be recognized for an all-star category. From an adjudicator’s standpoint, here are a few observations for directors and student musicians.

Ideally, when your band comes out to perform, the first thing the audience and the judges are going to hear is the downbeat of your first song. This is not the time for tuning up or practicing that annoying little lick that they just can’t seem to get. Your guitar players and bass players may have to make sure their amps are working, but keep extraneous noise to an absolute minimum, so the first thing we hear is your band playing together.

Young brass players tend to point their horns at the floor. Make sure your students put the stand high enough that they have to lift their bells up for the sake of projection.

Adjudicators usually have a form they’re looking at, and a certain number of points are assigned to each category. There’s one category that says “appearance and enthusiasm.”  As far as your band’s enthusiasm, I don’t feel a “locker room speech” works in this situation. Your band should look like they’re having a good time, smiling and supporting each other. This attitude comes from rehearsals, where making music is fun, not a chore. The enthusiasm will follow the group onto the stage. I don’t have specific advice about uniforms, but your band should have some kind of look. I prefer the all-black or white shirts and ties, as opposed to the band tee-shirt — not a terrible choice but a bit informal for the situation.

Regarding soloists, judges like to see students attempting improvisation. We can usually tell when a student is playing a written out solo, most obviously because they are standing up but reading from their chart. Judges would rather hear a simple improvised solo than a well-played performance of a written solo.

And then there’s the microphone. Why should a student be expected to know how to use a microphone? This needs to be practiced beforehand, and they need to understand that a microphone does not make you sound better, it only makes you sound louder. If you play with a tentative tone, what the judges will hear is a loud tentative tone. Students need to practice knowing how close to be to a microphone; they need to learn how to project; and to listen to the hall, meaning “play the room.”

Some school bands come in with oversized ensembles: eight, nine, ten saxophone players, twice the normal amount. I used to be annoyed by this until I realized that numbers are important for music teachers to help justify their programming. But I don’t know of any judges who give points for the most players. Be aware that the more players you have, the unintended consequences may be problems with intonation and cohesiveness.

When I listen to high school and junior high bands I find that most of my comments have to do with the rhythm section, and there’s a reason for this. Rhythm players are eventually required to play things that aren’t in the music. This process takes a lot of time and judicious choices, including what not to play. In the words of master bassist Milt Hinton, referring to bass players and rhythm sections, “we provide a rhythmic service first.” Here are a few specific comments for rhythm section players and directors.

Piano players, your parts are going to be overwritten almost all the time. The music is written for non-jazz piano players and it behooves you to learn what chord symbols mean and how to use them. If you’ve ever seen a video of the Count Basie Orchestra with Mr. Basie at the piano, you will notice that for many measures he is playing nothing, he’s simply waiting for his moments. Playing nothing is a lot harder than playing something, but often times is the best choice, so keep that difficult concept in mind.

For guitar players, you need to learn about the “Freddie Green.” Freddie was a key factor in the Basie swing machine, strumming subtly but with force on every beat. Modern master guitarists Bucky Pizzarelli and James Chirillo follow the Freddie Green style. As explained by bassist Jay Leonhart, the technique is described below:

Jay Leonhart

JL:   The two of them [James and Bucky], they’ll take the third and the seventh, right in the middle of the strings, right in that nice middle range around middle C, and they’ll just sit and play the third and the seventh. It’s either a minor third or a major seventh. Or maybe a sixth if they want to get adventurous. And they can just sit there and play like that. And the only notes coming out of the guitar are the relevant ones. And they’re not doubling the third, like making Bach turn over in his grave.

I have been told that heavy strings combined with minimal amplification and aggressive strumming will help “do the Freddie.”

Directors, if you have two guitar players, they should be taking turns unless one of them can be assigned to double a melody or a bass line at certain parts. Taking turns can also apply to pianists and guitarists as they comp behind the soloists.

Bass players, make sure you’re set up next to the drums with your amp behind you or at least to the side. You should never be sitting behind your amp, and you should always be tight with your drummer.

Drummers, you’ve probably all heard that Buddy Rich — who was often called the world’s greatest drummer — could not read music, and he was not alone. Traditionally in professional swing bands the drummers were self-taught, and they learned the chart by listening to it and finding the appropriate thing to play. I find that drum parts in current scholastic jazz music are far too complicated. Every brass hit and every rhythm written for the horns seems to be included. This does not mean that drummers should play all of them. Swing is established by syncopated rhythms reacting against a smooth 4/4 beat. If every instrument is playing the hits and the syncopation, there will be no swing. Bucky Pizzarelli had a relevant comment about Basie’s All-American Rhythm Section:

Bucky Pizzarelli

BP:    If you study, I have, the music of Count Basie, the rhythm section never played figures with the band. When they [the horns] played eighth-quarter-eighth, they [the rhythm section] just kept chunking away through the whole thing. And it works better that way. The minute everybody’s doing the same thing it doesn’t work. It’s like a drummer hitting figures with the brass section. It’s terrible.

The drummer’s first responsibility is to keep time, to help the band swing or rock or make things funky. Do that first before you try to react to everything the band is doing. Try playing the arrangement without the music. You will listen harder and internalize the musical moments that need to be reinforced.

And directors, you have a responsibility. While most schools have jazz bands, the music colleges do not necessarily require the appropriate training in the curriculum. So listening and observing is required for you also. Make sure your band is set up as well as possible in these festival situations, especially your rhythm section. Avoid identifying your soloists in mid-song, but rather introduce them before or after. We are trying to listen to the music and not your voice. Pick charts that are a challenge, but playable for your group, so that they can make their best impression. Encourage enthusiasm and, during the year, experiment with setting your band up in different configurations so that they can hear the music in a new way. Have your horn players face the rhythm section, or try the Stan Kenton “Flying V” formation with the rhythm section in the middle, anything to get students listening. And encourage them to listen. Why should they know how to play swing music if they have not heard it? Everything is available these days so they should be listening not only to the charts they’re playing, but the classic Basie, Buddy Rich, Thad Jones-Mel Lewis groups. Encourage the festival hosts to arrange their event in a manner that allows bands to listen to and support each other.

Often times judges (at least this judge) get to a point where all they really want to say is “you’re young and you’re doing fine. Carry on.”

Musical Time Travel

I’ve stated before that my performing repertoire and listening habits can hardly be considered current or up to date. My role as Jazz Archive Director at Hamilton has strengthened my enjoyment of jazz music and personalities from the past — the swing era and the soloists from the 30’s and 40’s. My “songs for gigs” list reflects this obsession and my “current tunes” are now mostly from the 50’s and 60’s.

My passion for this music was reinforced and well-satisfied during the last three weekends. The annual Fallcoming concert at Hamilton for the last five years has featured a group led by pianist Dick Hyman. This year’s members included guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli, trumpeter Randy Sandke, drummer Jackie Williams, and bassist Jay Leonhart. Jazz fans will raise their eyebrows at such an impressive cast of characters.

For Fallcoming Jazz ‘13 we tried something different than the normal organized jam session format. A number of years ago, a Dick Hyman CD entitled “From the Age of Swing” came to my attention. I fell in love with the creative arrangements for a four-piece rhythm section and four horns, consisting of alto and baritone saxes, trumpet and trombone. Mr. Hyman’s charts captured the feel of the early big band era, and his imaginative writing was a joy to hear and play. The quintet was augmented by Syracuse trombonist Greg McCrea, Hamilton student Deanna Nappi on baritone sax, and myself on alto sax. Here’s a YouTube link of the first tune we played on this concert.

We played the Hyman charts on September 27, and I found myself immersed in musical heaven. Randy on trumpet faithfully reproduced the approach and sound of Joe Wilder, the trumpeter on the original recording. The rhythm section provided an indescribable bed of swing, demonstrating the power of organized simplicity, and it wouldn’t have happened without the 4/4 chordal strumming of Bucky Pizzarelli, who also was on the 1999 recording. Guitarists describe this as “Freddie Green,” the style of strumming that Mr. Green provided for the Count Basie Orchestra for nearly 50 years.

Here’s a description of that style from Bucky, taken from his 2003 interview:

Bucky Pizzarelli

MR:    Is there some distinguishing thing about what Freddie Green did that’s possible to verbalize?

BP:    It’s very hard to describe what he did but he played a 4/4 beat with an accent on two and four, and he just kept chunking away. And if you study the music of Count Basie, the rhythm section never played figures with the band. When they played eighth-quarter-eighth, you know, they just kept chunking away through the whole thing. And it works better that way. The minute everybody’s doing the same thing it doesn’t work. It’s like a drummer hitting figures with the brass section. It’s terrible.

Jay Leonhart, Bucky’s rhythm section-mate at Fallcoming, described the specifics that make it work:

Jay Leonhart

JL:    I’ve heard Bucky, and who else, James Chirillo … the two of them, they’ll take the third and the seventh, right in the middle of the strings, right in that nice middle range around middle C, which on the piano would be — and they’ll just sit and play the third and the seventh. It’s either a minor third or a major seventh. Or maybe a sixth if they want to get adventurous. And they can just sit there and play like that. And the only notes coming out of the guitar are the relevant ones. And they’re not doubling the third, like making Bach turn over in his grave ... It’s so defined and clear. And as a result their chops are good because they’re not making a lot of moves and they’re not trying to play six notes with every … they can concentrate on the time, and they do. And that’s the way Bucky plays. Yet he’s a grand soloist when he plays songs by himself, he can really play the guitar. He’s not just a two, three and seven guy. He can really play the guitar.

This steady pulse allows everyone in the band to play less, and we know less equals more. It was a memorable moment, transporting me back to the time when this style was the popular music of the day. Mr. Hyman skillfully led the 8-piece ensemble, which had only engaged in a run through of the charts. As an added bonus, Deanna, one of my students, acquitted herself with great skill on the baritone saxophone. The biggest difference from actually performing this music during its original lifespan was the setting. If we had been performing in 1937 in a dance hall, the success of the band would have been determined by the number of dancers on the dance floor. This music has now been elevated to an art form worthy of a seated audience in a concert hall setting.

The next weekend I traveled to SUNY Fredonia, for another round of nostalgia. The annual Fredonia Jazz Ensemble reunion concert took place on Friday evening. In similar fashion, an all-too-brief rehearsal preceded a concert by members of the original members of the Fredonia Jazz Ensemble from the classes of the 1970’s. This weekend is always a mix of music and camaraderie, reconnecting with musicians from those brief college years who shared a love for big band music. At the time, we took pride in the fact that we were operating outside the conventions of the music program. In the mid-70’s jazz had not been embraced by the majority of music schools, and the jazz ensemble was a student-directed affair. Our repertoire this night consisted of familiar big band fare, but from the bands that thrived after the swing era. Material from Buddy Rich, Stan Kenton and the Thad Jones-Mel Lewis bands provided plenty of challenge. Most of us playing that night had harbored fantasies of getting a call to join one of these groups and abruptly leaving our studies in avid response.

As an incentive for my own writing, I always compose a new work for this weekend, and I can be confident that it will be played well and with great spirit. My new piece, “Angelica,” was received a good deal of praise, making it worth the time and effort.

The last step on my time travel took me back even further. I got a call to play a dinner dance entitled “A 1920’s Jazz Gala.” While my musical tastes have traveled backwards, the 1920’s was pushing it even for me. A fair amount of research was required for this Great Gatsby-era gig. It was an authentic recreation of a 1920’s speakeasy with period clothing encouraged for all attendees; a non-alcohol event in the spirit of prohibition. This time the songs included tunes you would find in dusty sheet music archives: “Alexander’s Ragtime Band,” “The Charleston,” and “3 O’clock in the Morning.” My current quartet rose to the occasion. The drummer brought vintage drums and the required whistles, woodblocks and cowbells that were so much a part of this upbeat small-band jazz. I was happy to see a number of college and high school students among the attendees, illustrating the fact that some eras carry a magical aura all their own. Here’s a photo of our group from this nostalgic evening.

(L-R) Monk Rowe, Tom McGrath,
John Hutson, and Sean Peters

The three consecutive weekends provided a welcomed musical challenge and a personal sentimental journey.