Tempus Fugit

Two news items and a recent personal experience made me think about how time is fleeting but great art stands its ground. The first item I noted was that Motown Records is 50 years old. Indeed, Motown was formed as a record company in 1959. It’s hard to imagine that some of those classic pop songs are 50 years old. I think they’ve aged remarkably well.

Also 50 years old is one of the largest selling jazz albums of all-time, Miles Davis’ “Kind of Blue.” It’s now being celebrated with a 50th Anniversary remastered CD release and a book devoted to the recording, describing it in great detail. I defy anybody to suggest that this music has not aged well, in fact it only seems to be more celebrated with every successive generation. With a cast of characters that included Cannonball Adderley, John Coltrane and Bill Evans, it’s perfectly understandable.

Lastly, this weekend at Hamilton College we hosted bassist/violinist Henry Grimes and percussionist Rashied Ali, two forward thinking and adventurous musicians whose duo concert consisted of music conceived and executed spontaneously. These men played with a depth of experience based on two long careers that included paying dues in both Rhythm & Blues and Hard Bop; it was an ear-opening event. Both were young men in the 1960’s when Free Jazz, the avante garde, was percolating in New York City and they played an important role in its development. I had to stop and check my sources to confirm that, like Motown and “Kind of Blue,” Free Jazz is some 50 years old. Ornette Coleman recorded the LP “The Shape of Jazz to Come” in May 1959, soon to be followed by the groundbreaking “Free Jazz.” It’s hard to believe that the music I heard these artists play last night was based on a movement that started a half century ago. It’s also worth noting that both musicians seem to still be on a never-ending quest, even into their seventh decade, for musical freedom as they perceive it. I’m not sure it was everybody’s cup of tea, but clearly some people in the audience were moved by their musicianship and their musical quest.

If Mozart’s music can last some 200 years, it’s uplifting to think that Motown tunes, “Kind of Blue” and many other musical forms will be with us for a long time. It’s hard to imagine how music will be delivered to us in another 50 years, perhaps we’ll be able to hard-wire it into our brains and call it up on demand. If so, I’m fairly sure that selections from “Kind of Blue” and choice number one Motown hits will be included in our personal catalogues.

Talkin' Jazz

Today I'll resume my "Talkin' Jazz" radio show on WHCL 88.7 FM streaming on WHCL.org. This semester's show will be Thursdays from 2-4 PM EST. As it was last semester, the WHCL only broadcasts when school is in session, and this is the first show of the Spring semester.

Today's show will feature "Music from the Bottom," great jazz bassists and drummers. If the stars align and the weather cooperates, hour #2 will feature an in-studio interview with two legendary musicians, a drummer and a bassist, who are spending three days on campus as Artists-In-Residence.

Hummin’

My interview with Nat in 1995 on my second jazz interview trip, this one aboard "Majesty of the Seas."

Back in 1995, on my second interview trip, I had the privilege to interview Nat Adderley, Cannonball’s brother, who co-wrote many of the tunes that inspired me in my early years. It wasn’t any trouble for me to prepare for this interview; I was a fan of Nat and Cannonball, and was devastated by Cannon’s untimely death in the mid-70’s.

To begin the interview, I asked Nat about three songs he wrote, inquiring as to their origins. After I asked him about the second song, I couldn’t resist asking him about one final song of personal interest to me: “Hummin’.” The following is Nat’s recounting of the basis of that song. The bonus is his mother’s response to it:


NA: [T]here are many many stories to go along. In other words, as far as I’m concerned, most of the music that I have ever written all has — there’s a reason, for it to be the way that it is. Now you’ve got two. If you’ve got another one, speak up.


MR: “Hummin’.


NA: “Hummin’” — actually, wow. “Hummin’.”


MR: And then I’ll let somebody else talk.


NA: You pick a — “Hummin.’” Boy. Well I guess the only way to do it is to tell you the way that it really was. “Hummin’” was written about an old woman who lived on my street when I was a little boy again in Tallahassee. Miss Sally was her name. Miss Sally. Southern people have strange ways of saying things. But there was Mrs. Coleman lived there, Mrs. Lasser lived up the street and Mr. Lasser. Miss Sally was about 80 years old but she was “Miss Sally” there was no man there. She was a tall, Black woman and I describe it — she looked like they look in “Roots” like the ladies looked. She wore that long dress, as long as an evening gown and she wore an apron, and the apron was as long as the dress. Miss Sally must have been about six feet tall. She was a tall, African-looking black woman. Miss Sally sat in this rocking chair on her porch. And her front porch was of course the houses were boards, little wooden houses. She sat in this rocking chair on the front porch and she had a loose board on that porch. And that’s where she had the rocking chair. And Miss Sally would sit there and rock, and like, for example, shell peas, shelling peas. You take the peas out the shells. She’d take the peas out the shells, drop the peas in the pot that she was holding in her lap, and the hulls in the apron behind the pot. Now and then she’d move the pot and dump the shells on a piece of paper on the floor and then go back to shelling peas. Meanwhile she would rock. And on that loose board when she’d rock forward, the board would hit — bomp. And when she’d rock backwards the board would hit from the front and rear — bu bomp. So she’d be rocking — bomp, bu bomp — bomp, bu bomp — bomp, bu bomp. All us little boys used to come by. We used to like to, because Miss Sally was a bit eccentric — at least I know now that she was eccentric, we just thought Miss Sally was crazy, but after I went to college I learned that there was such a word as eccentricity. Once she’d keep this stuff going, we’d say “Miss Sally you want us to fix that board?” Miss Sally say “get the hell out.” So we’d leave. Now, years, later when I was thinking about that again, I wrote this song. Oh, I left out a part. Miss Sally used to humm little churchy sounding things, [humms], kinda Gospel sounding. Meanwhile, — bomp, bu bomp — bomp, bu bomp.


MR: [to Romy, off camera] You’ve gotta hear this song.


NA: So I wrote the song. A little later on, and this is the addendum to it. I was living in New Jersey and had this big house, and my mother was visiting. And my mother came downstairs one morning, and she’d been listening to the radio at night. My momma said “listen — why don’t you write a song that’s got some meaning, like ‘Stardust?’” She said “you and your brother write them little ittilie boobly songs and they don’t have no meaning.” I had just done it. I said “you know that song I got called ‘Hummin’,’ the new one?” She said “yeah.” I said “you know, Quincy Jones recorded it, Cannonball recorded it, I recorded it?“ I said “you know that song is about old Miss Sally.” She said “what?” I said “you know the rhythm represents that board hitting — bomp, bu bomp — bomp, bu bomp — and melody is something like an old, Gospel sounding thing [humms].” And Momma say “yeah,” kind of skeptically, “yeah, sure.” But that night we were working down in the Village at a place called the Village Gate. Momma came down that night, and we played “Hummin.’” Momma, she called me over to the table: “hey, come here, boy” she said. “You know I listened to that song, and now that you told me what it means,” she said, “I could just see that old woman sitting on the porch and the board hitting,” and she said “you know old Miss Sally been dead about fifteen years now, but we all remember that old board hitting.” So she said “now that I see that, you know, and I’m gonna get off your case.” That’s when I knew Momma was hip. She said “I’m gonna get off your case and I’m going to say, I agree, your songs have meaning.” And that is the one for that one. Now I gave you three examples, let’s get somewhere else.


Click on the title, “Hummin” and you will be transported to the section on my website where you can click “Nat Adderley” that tells about the song “One for Nat” which I composed following this interview. Also there is brief biographical information about Nat and Cannonball.