In 1964, sax man Willis “Gator” Jackson released the album Nuther’n Like Thuther’n on Prestige Records. This title neatly sums up the main criticism of Jackson: that he made a lot of records and they all sound the same. Granted, Jackson was no musical innovator, but one can still feel how his gritty, lowdown-blues blowing could stir a crowd in a dancehall on a hot Saturday night. Perhaps it’s the Sixties version of “dirty dancing”? Jackson was born in Miami in 1932 and was already touring with Cootie Williams, late of the Duke Ellington orchestra, and his band in 1949. He played a lot of rhythm and blues in the early Fifties. His honking and wailing sax style - in performances, he’d lie on his back and play - particularly on the song “Gator Tail” earned him his nickname. Jackson married R&B singer Ruth Brown and toured with her extensively. When he signed with Prestige in 1959, he modified his flamboyant style and became a proponent of soul-jazz playing. “Soul” signifying emotion in this case - something that Jackson wore on his sleeve when he played. Subtlety was not his game - Jackson was about expressing the emotion of the tune, not playing in a “style” per se. He was greatly influenced by Illinois Jacquet, who was also a honker in his day, and he admired Gene Ammons. Jackson had this to say about playing the sax: “So many of these saxophonists playing today [1961], they have what I call a ‘peashooter’ sound. They sound like an alto, they’re playing alto on the tenor. They’re wonderful technicians, they all have a good execution, but they don’t make the instrument sound like they should.” No one ever accused Jackson of being a peashooter. Just try sitting still while listening to Jackson’s version of “Swimmin’ Home Baby” from 1964. For the next ten years, Jackson made a slew of albums for Prestige, more and more of which are becoming available, including Please Mr. Jackson, Gentle Gator, and a compilation album called At Large. Over the years, he had long associations with both Jack McDuff and Carl Wilson on organ and with Pat Martino on guitar. “Gator” continued playing up until his death in 1987 and he left behind some swinging albums of bluesy soul-jazz, played by a master of the form.
Calle 54 is clearly the work of an enraptured lover of Latin jazz, and the film looks marvelous. This 2000 documentary was directed by Spaniard Fernando Trueba, who also directed the wonderfully sexy film Belle Époque (1992), starring Penelope Cruz. Here, he films some of the all-time greats of Latin jazz playing their music, including Tito Puente, Eliane Elias, Gato Barbieri, Michel Camilo, Chico O’Farrill, and Chucho and Bebo Valdéz. Each musician is briefly introduced while they are filmed (often as solitary figures) in their own homes or neighborhoods, whether in New York City, Havana, Cuba, or Stockholm, Sweden. But the bulk of the film is performance, all done on a soundstage and intimately filmed with beautiful sound quality. (The title of the film refers to 54th Street in New York City, the location of Sony Music Studios, where the performances were shot.) We see Chico O’Farrill conducting a big band, Tito Puente as the over-animated rhythmic center of his group, and a wonderful duet with Bebo Valdéz and bassist Israel López “Cachao.” Chucho and Bebo also play a father-son piano duet. One couldn’t have asked for anything better in a music video. However, virtually no historical context regarding Latin jazz is provided. And I found myself wanting to see more about the musicians’ personal lives. The snippets we get wet the appetite but leave you unfulfilled. We visit Tito Puente in his eponymous restaurant on City Island, showing off his murals to Latin jazz. And there’s a wonderfully quirky interview with Gato Barbieri in a horse-drawn carriage in Central Park. Gato sounds as if he’s just been taken from a 1970s time capsule, and his answers to the filmmaker’s questions (which have been edited out) come across as a string of nostalgic and crazy non sequitirs. But Gato’s performance that follows is gangbusters. For some great Latin jazz, filmed and recorded with loving care, you couldn’t do better than Calle 54. Highly recommended.
Trumpeter Lee Morgan’s “The Sidewinder” is an example of familiarity breeding contempt. The 1963 hit tune, from the album of the same name, was used as the theme in Chrysler car commercials at the time. This was without permission from Morgan or Blue Note Records – threats of lawsuits caused the commercials to be quickly taken off the air. But even Morgan thought the tune was just “filler” for the album. This is a bit surprising because he desperately needed a comeback, as he was coming off several years of trouble due to a heroin addiction. “The Sidewinder” opens the album with ten minutes of great blues. The catchy rhythm is deep blues mixed with a Latin riff and is sustained throughout. Lee’s opening solo is on the showy side, but there’s also some wonderfully intimate playing, almost a talking quality to the trumpet. Joe Henderson follows on tenor sax with a melodious solo that is immediately recognizable. (The following year, Henderson would make another memorable guest appearance with a seminal solo on Horace Silver’s “Song for My Father.”) Barry Harris on piano and Bob Cranshaw on bass are also given ample room for bluesy solos in “Sidewinder.” Hey, “catchy” doesn’t necessarily mean bad. Blue Note tried to repeat the formula on later Morgan albums, attempting to capture the magic again with opening extended blues songs. This is part of what contributed to the dismissive attitude toward this tune/album. (And did we really need an album called The Rumproller?) Morgan continued to record prolifically throughout the Sixties until his untimely death in 1972, when he was shot by his common law wife at the club where he was performing, the unfortunately named Slugs’.
Wes Montgomery on guitar, Harold Mabern on piano, Arthur Harper on bass, and Jimmy Lovelace on drums. Recorded for the television broadcast "Jazz Prisma," at Universal Studio, Brussels, Belgium, March 1965.
Calle 54
