UNDERRATED (AND NEVER RATED) JAZZ MUSICIANS

BY JON NELSON

Jazz has produced countless numbers of outstanding performers through the years, and many of them have achieved much deserved fame for their talents. There are many others, however, who have never achieved the prominence they deserved. There are many reasons for this, but one of the most obvious is that certain critics and writers have tended to promote those they personally prefer. This article will focus on some of the outstanding talents that have never achieved the fame their talents deserve. Here they are, in no particular order:

***The Original Dixieland Jazz Band. This is obviously not a single individual, but the ODJB is crucially important in jazz history for a number of reasons. The fact that they recorded the first jazz record in 1917, while important, pales in significance to some of their other important firsts. They were the first traditional jazz band to tour abroad, and they were the first to make an impact on New York. They also solidified the traditional instrumentation of a dixieland band: trumpet (or cornet), trombone, clarinet, piano and drums. Later, a bass or tuba would also be added. While none of the men in the band were outstanding virtuosi (trombonist Eddie Edwards was the closest) or soloists (with the possible exception of clarinetist Larry Shields), their foremost accomplishment lies in the fact that they wrote so many of the songs that make up the repertoire of the traditional jazz band to this day. Tiger Rag, Original Dixieland One-Step, Royal Garden Blues, Fidgety Feet, Clarinet Marmalade, Sensation Rag, Livery Stable Blues, and numerous others have been performed and recorded so many times by so many different bands that it may not be an exaggeration to call the ODJB the most influential jazz band of them all.

***Jelly Roll Morton: Morton (1885-1941) has rarely been ignored by the major jazz writers, but, rather than singing his praises, he has instead been unjustly dismissed or even vilified by many of them, more so than any other major jazz figure. Yet his contributions to the music are so extraordinary that it is no exaggeration to state that, had he not lived, jazz would not have been the same. There have been numerous books written about him, but the most important is Jelly’s Blues by Howard Reich and William Gaines. None of the other biographies can come close to this one. The authors not only describe Morton’s career and present irrefutable proof of his genius, they also point out the real villains in his story. The Melrose brothers Music Company basically screwed Morton out of the royalties he deserved for his compositions, some of which became enormously popular; Jelly spent the last fifteen years of his life trying to get the royalties on his compositions that the brothers swindled from him. The myth that Morton was “old hat” was a common one during his lifetime and after, but is easily disproved by any honest examination of his works. To cite but one example, his composition Ganjam, unrecorded until 2005, startled everyone who previously thought themselves experts on Morton’s music; most of the more honest writers have consequently abandoned the idea that Morton was hopelessly old-fashioned and outdated. Ganjam, composed for big band, is as adventurous harmonically as anything being offered at the time of its composition and in fact anticipates the orchestration and stylings of the avant-garde works of Charles Mingus in the 1950s. It even predates the modalism that boppers such as John Coltrane and Miles Davis began to experiment with in the 1960s. Even Morton’s most vocal critics have had to re-think their conclusions about Morton after hearing this work.
Yet no one in the late 1930s was listening or, more accurately, willing to listen. John Hammond was another villain in the Morton saga who treated jazz’s most important figure as little better than dirt. Morton tried every tactic available in order to right the wrongs that had been done to him, not only by the Melrose brothers, but by just about every major figure he encountered. His failure to achieve the recognition he so deserved is what makes his life story so bittersweet. Even without “Ganjam,” Morton’s recorded legacy is a unique one; one writer referred to him as the Mozart of early jazz. This is certainly a more appropriate tribute to a man others have dismissed as “that old whorehouse pianist.”

***George Mitchell: Morton’s star cornetist on his classic 1926 sessions, Mitchell (1898/9-1972) possessed a unique sound and solid instrumental technique that drove the classic Red Hot Peppers ensemble to new levels of professionalism. Although he was not from New Orleans, he understood the role the cornet plays in early instrumental ensembles, providing a powerful yet not overpowering lead for the other instrumentalists to weave their respective lines around. He filled that role to perfection and may have been the premier jazz cornetist until the advent of Louis Armstrong who changed the cornet/trumpet’s role (as well as jazz in general) forever. Mitchell’s heyday was the 1920s; by the early 1930s, musical styles had changed, and he left music forever.

***Johnny St. Cyr: Banjoist and guitarist on the aforementioned Morton sessions, St. Cyr (1890-1966) was the classiest of jazz banjoists; unlike most of his contemporaries and successors, his solos never sound like lightweight pizza parlor music. One of the most interesting things about St. Cyr is his ability to totally change his approach to fit each musical situation he found himself in. For example, his relaxed banjo virtuosity on Morton’s “Black Bottom Stomp” and light but full-voiced guitar strumming on “Doctor Jazz” give the band a totally different character. And, for a jazz pioneer, he had a surprisingly advanced ear for harmony, perhaps only matched by Morton himself. This can be heard on the trio recordings he made with his then-girlfriend Lily Delk Christian and clarinetist Jimmy Noone. While it is difficult to get past Christian’s nasal voice, St. Cyr provides passing chords and chromatics that are quite surprising for the time. It is no exaggeration to say that swing guitar begins with him.

***Stump Evans: One of the first recorded jazz saxophone soloists, Evans (1904-1928) died too early to have caught the media’s and public’s attention. But he was unquestionably the outstanding saxophonist of his time, much in demand in the early Chicago jazz scene. A real virtuoso, he was a master of the slap-tongue style then in vogue, and used it very effectively. His last session, a 1927 date with Morton, shows off all his wide-ranging skills. Despite that, he was not even mentioned in the leading books on jazz, including Feather’s Encyclopedia of Jazz. His passing from tuberculosis just as his career was getting started constitutes one of the greatest “what ifs” of jazz. Had he lived longer, he might have become the major performer on his instrument during the swing era. This is of course mere speculation, but he certainly seems to have had the ability to become a major influence on his chosen instrument.

***Bernard Addison: Addison (1905-1990) was one of the most highly respected guitarists of his time. The respect was accorded him by his fellow musicians, but not by the critics, who ignored him altogether. For example, Leonard Feather’s Encyclopedia of Jazz dismisses him as a “highly regarded rhythm guitarist” of the 1930s. But Addison was much more than this. In contrast with Count Basie’s famed guitarist Freddie Greene, who strummed on the beat without any kind of rhythmic variation, Addison was a real swinger. No guitarist, before or since, has swung harder than he did. He varied his approach with single string runs, bent notes and even bent chords. His rhythmic drive and chordal approach lifted the ensembles he played in to new levels. For example, the one session he did with Duke Ellington’s band in the late 1930s makes one wish he had stayed much longer, as so many of the Duke’s sidemen did. Addison was also magnificent with the Mills brothers, but didn’t last as long since he tended to outshine them, as good as they were; the brothers wanted support, not competition and Addison’s virtuosity drew attention away from them.
The only knock against Addison is that he did not record enough, and this is certainly true, especially when one considers his long musical career, which extended into the 1980s. Nonetheless there is enough available to show this most remarkable musician’s mastery of his instrument, his ability to swing and drive a rhythm section, and his amazing improvisational skills.

***Henry “Red” Allen: While it is certainly true that most trumpet players who followed Louis Armstrong were in some way indebted to his pioneering efforts, Red Allen (1906-1967) was a pioneer in his own right, more lyrical than Armstrong and capable of extremely unusual and rhythmically complex improvisations. Unlike Armstrong, Allen saw no need to play what was considered at the time to be stratospheric high notes, although he was capable enough of hitting them when needed. Likewise, although he didn’t feel the need to show off rapid flurries of notes, he was capable of doing so, as seen on the turnaround of his solo on “Jersey Lightning” with the Luis Russell orchestra. Allen reached complete musical maturity at an extremely young age; his 1929 recordings under his own name and that of the Russell orchestra show a musician already in full command of his instrument. Alternate takes of some of these songs make for fascinating listening and while some are obviously superior to others, it is easy to discern a real musical revolutionary at work, particularly in his rhythmic thrust. For example, his second solo on the issued version of “It Should Be You” seems to transcend or even defy bar lines as he floats above the ensemble. Allen’s was a uniquely different musical voice.
The element of surprise was an important element in Allen’s work, a trend that continued throughout his career. For example, a 1959 album with Kid Ory shows him at his musical peak, playing purposely behind and then in front of the beat on “San” and suddenly exploding with a terrific flurry of 32nd notes on “Tuxedo Junction.” These and other examples conclusively show why bebop trumpeter Don Ellis called Allen the most avant-garde of jazz trumpeters; critics at the time seemed still in the dark about his contributions to jazz’s development. While Allen’s work has always been highly regarded, it is high time to suggest that New Orleans produced not one, but two musical revolutionary trumpeters in the 1920s. And one of them (Allen) continued to be creative and musically relevant far longer than the other (Louis Armstrong).

***J.C. Higginbotham: Musical partners with Red Allen for decades, J.C. Higginbotham (1906-1973) was the most exciting jazz trombonist of his time, and possibly of all time. His highly individual style was characterized by rips, trills, and drive all of which graced the bands he played with during the big band era. The problem with Higginbotham was that he was an alcoholic, and his playing deteriorated markedly after 1940. His later solos seem little more than slight variations on a single theme, and his technique dwindled with each passing year. Harmonically, he seemed to be stuck in an earlier time period and seemed either unable or unwilling to try out any of the newer compositions that came along, saying that he didn’t like their “bad chords.” Fortunately, he recorded prolifically during his heyday, and should not be judged by the subsequent decline of his technique and improvisational skills. His 1929 recording of “It Should Be You,” for example, was one of the most exciting solos of the decade, as were most of the others he recorded for the Luis Russell band. Higginbotham was also a virtuoso capable of fast sixteenth note runs at a time when most of his contemporaries did not have the technical skills to attempt such things. In his heyday, he won numerous jazz polls and was often seated alongside the likes of Tommy Dorsey and Jack Teagarden in various all-star bands. But, despite his obvious skills and originality, most writers in recent decades have tended to treat him as just another not particularly distinguished jazz trombonist when in fact he was head and shoulders above his contemporaries. Any objective listening to the records made during his prime will reveal this.

***Claude Jones: Jones (1901-1962) was an important, although rarely acknowledged early trombonist who played with many of the prominent orchestras of his day. Much more so than Jimmy Harrison, who received most of the acclaim, Jones made the trombone into a solo vehicle in the late 1920s. Technically he was far ahead of Harrison and most of the other players from that time, with the possible exception of Miff Mole. However, Jones’ style was much looser and freer than Mole’s rapid staccato approach, which sounds stiff by comparison. His improvisational skills were greater than most of his contemporaries and alternate takes of his solos illustrate his ability to spontaneously create different solos while most of his contemporaries’ alternate takes show them playing subtle variations on the same solo. To cite but one example, listening to Fletcher Henderson’s several versions of “Sugar Foot Stomp” from 1931 show that Jones alone, rather than the much more famous Rex Stewart, Coleman Hawkins and Benny Morton, approaches his solo differently each time, whereas the others tend to copy what they did on the other versions. Perhaps Jones’ best solo was on “Nagasaki” with Cab Calloway’s orchestra in 1935. Here, Jones begins his solo with a long lip trill, moving the slide in and out to achieve an interesting effect. He pulls off an interesting rip up to a high F, a technique that would later be used by such be-boppers as Al Gray. His final contribution on this number is a tricky and well played staccato sixteenth note break that few contemporaries could have pulled off. While Jones was in every way a superior player than contemporaries such as Benny Morton, Dickie Wells, Vic Dickenson and others, it is they whose names have survived as the giants of the time.

***Russell Procope: Best known for his alto sax work with the John Kirby Sextet and his sax and clarinet playing with the later Duke Ellington orchestra, Procope (1908-1981) was perhaps the most melodically gifted improviser of the swing era. Many of his solos are more memorable than the songs they were based on; Procope almost seems to be singing through his instrument. This was particularly evident on his recordings with Kirby. Procope was a veritable fountainhead of melodic ideas during that time, although he tended to be overshadowed by the brilliance of the band’s two other horn players, clarinetist Buster Bailey and trumpeter Charlie Shavers. The list of outstanding solos is of course subjective, but surely must include “Coquette,” “Royal Garden Blues” and “Sweet Georgia Brown.” Technically, he was the equal of the best alto players of his time (“Coquette alone proves this), including Johnny Hodges, Benny Carter, and Willie Smith, all three of whom are usually listed by critics as the “big three” of the swing era. Procope also displayed unique stylings on the clarinet, the instrument Ellington usually featured him on. Although always in the shadow of Ellington’s Johnny Hodges, whom he sat alongside of from the end of the Second World War until Hodges’ death in 1970, Procope’s virtuosity and imagination on both his chosen instruments were second to none.

***Charlie Shavers: Often called the “sparkplug” of the John Kirby Sextet, Shavers (1920-1971) was far and away the most virtuosic trumpeter of the swing era. A performer of incredible power and emotional impact, Shavers was also appreciated for his abilities as a lead player, one of the few capable of performing the demands of playing lead while still remaining a top soloist. Interestingly, he began his recorded career by working with three of the top-rated New Orleans clarinetists, first with Jimmie Noone (when he was only seventeen years old!), followed by Johnny Dodds and Sidney Bechet. It is a telling tribute to his abilities that he was able to subsume his virtuosity within the context of the Kirby ensemble, with whom he usually employed a mute. When he removed it, the result could be volcanic in impact: “Royal Garden Blues” suddenly sounds like a big band due to his un-muted, powerful lead in the out chorus. In some ways Shavers was the first modern trumpeter in that he possessed an extreme range on his instrument, being the first to play double high Gs cleanly. His flexibility is evident in his being comfortable in just about any jazz setting, from small bands to big bands to dixieland. An outstanding example of this is seen in his mid-1950s recording “History of the Jazz Trumpet” in which he pays tribute to Louis Armstrong, Roy Eldridge, Ziggy Elman, Harry James, Cootie Williams and Dizzy Gillespie. Here, Shavers’ technical facility and power are displayed to full advantage. The results are downright hair-raising. Despite his obvious style and virtuosity, critics have always rated Shavers below less deserving contemporaries, most notably Eldridge. Even his death passed almost unnoticed; he had the misfortune of dying two days after Louis Armstrong, whose passing garnered all the media attention.

***Billy Kyle: A major pianist from the swing era whose sparkling artistry graced the John Kirby sextet as well as Louis Armstrong’s All Stars, Kyle (1914-1966) inexplicably never recorded a solo album that would have given free reign to his talents. Kyle’s style hovered somewhere between that of Earl Hines and Teddy Wilson, but was always highly individualistic. He combined the rhythmic complexities of Hines with the clean lines of Wilson, but his playing had a distinctive bounce of its own. Even the commercial success of Louis Armstrong’s “Hello Dolly” on which he played did not bring Kyle’s name to the attention of the critics who generally ignored his talents.

***Henry Goodwin: Goodwin (1910-1979) is an example of someone who is almost never rated at all. Yet he was a trumpet virtuoso who was as fast and clean as just about any of his contemporaries. Like several others on this list, he didn’t make enough records showcasing his talents even though he had a fairly long career. Some of his most outstanding work can be heard as part of trombonist Jimmy Archey’s group on a 1952 broadcast from Jimmy Ryan’s in New York. This record unfortunately is now hard to come by. Part of the problem with Goodwin is that his style of music, dixieland, was generally ignored by the critics, who were invariably more interested in bebop than in traditional jazz. But, as his records conclusively demonstrate, Henry Goodwin was a player of rare distinction, style, and virtuosity.

***Steve Brown: Brown (1890-1965) was the first important jazz bassist on record. At a time when bassists’ contributions tended to be lost in the recording studio due to the primitive recording techniques of the time, Brown was always able to make his presence known. His fellow musicians certainly respected him, and he played with many of the top bands of the 1920s, including the New Orleans Rhythm Kings, the Jean Goldkette orchestra, and Paul Whiteman’s mammoth aggregation. While bass solos were all but unthinkable at that time, his work comes through very clearly on his numerous recordings. The Goldkette recording of “My Pretty Girl” in particular shows off his swinging, driving style, which included the slap style which he may have originated; if he did not, he at least was the first to showcase this technique on record. Despite his undeniable influences, Brown was not included in Leonard Feather’s monumental “Encyclopedia of Jazz” volumes, the first edition of which appeared in 1955. Another reason for his obscurity lies in the fact that he left professional music during the swing era rather than continuing his career.

***Arthur Schutt: One of the first jazz musicians to attain fame in two different genres, Schutt (1902-1965) was a virtuoso ragtime pianist who was also the spark plug in the Red Nichols groups in the mid-1920s. The advanced harmonies of his different compositions made those pioneering recordings sound uniquely different from most of the pop-based songs most jazz musicians were recording at that time. Like his contemporary BIx Beiderbecke, Schutt was a major composer/arranger during his heyday, but was never accorded the recognition his talents merited. However, even a casual listening of his records with Nichols will reveal his talents. His contributions to what has become known as “novelty” ragtime, like his jazz recordings, lie in a unique ability to utilize augmented chords and substitutions; in this regard, he may be seen as a musical antecedent to Bix Beiderbecke, although he was only one year older than the great cornetist.

***Tony Parenti: New Orleans was the breeding ground for a remarkable number of first rate clarinetists. Tony Parenti (1900-1972) was one of the best of these, a skilled virtuoso who lent his remarkable talents to numerous recording sessions over a career spanning more than half a century. Perhaps his best recording was “Old Man Rhythm” which dates from 1928; this is a solo performance accompanied only by the piano of Vic Breidis. Here, he utilizes the full range of his instrument, employing some unusual note combinations and tricky intervals across the registers. Extremely difficult to play, it is not surprising that no other clarinetist has attempted to record the song. While Parenti rarely showed off extreme speed in his solos, recordings such as this make it clear that his technique was far in advance of most of his contemporaries.

***Adrian Rollini: Classic jazz owes an enormous debt of gratitude to Adrian Rollini (1903-1956). He was already an accomplished keyboard performer when he joined the California Ramblers in the early 1920s. The group was searching for a distinctive sound, and someone, possibly Ed Kirkeby (who started the band) suggested a bass saxophone and Rollini decided to give it a try. According to Kirkeby, Rollini had mastered the huge instrument in two weeks. While it is obviously impossible to master any instrument in that short a time, the statement indicates just how talented Rollini was. After leaving the Ramblers, Rollini worked with most of the top talent in New York during the Jazz Age. Truly a musician’s musician, Rollini’s gifts as an improvisor were exceptional, and he produced classic solos on virtually every record he was on. To this day, when one thinks of the New York jazz scene from the “golden days” of jazz, Rollini’s name comes up most frequently. More than any other musician, before or since, he was able to make the bass saxophone into a melodic solo voice. Even though he gave up the instrument in the early thirties and spent the rest of his career specializing on the vibraphone, his halcyon days were in the 1920s when in the company of Bix Beiderbecke, Red Nichols, and other legendary figures, he produced some of the most memorable sounds and solo work of that era.

***Bill Rank: Despite being a key member of Bix Beiderbecke’s legendary “Bix and his Gang” recordings in the late 1920s, trombonist Rank (1904-1979) remains virtually unknown, except to early jazz aficionados. None of the leading books on jazz mention his name except in passing. Even Leonard Feather’s monumental “History of Jazz” encyclopedia, which contained about two thousand biographies in its 1960 version, ignored Rank, while including dozens of irrelevant other figures (who remembers Otto Cesana and why on earth was he included?). This is extremely puzzling as his expertise is beyond question and many of his solos have become classics in their own right often copied note for note (whenever possible) even today. Rank was an obvious admirer of Miff Mole, the virtuosic musical companion of Red Nichols who was known for an extremely angular approach to his solos, including unusual skips, jumps slurs, and unexpected melodic twists and turns. Rank went even further, and some of his jumps covered more than two octaves. The first two notes of Beiderbecke’s “Somebody Stole My Gal” is a case in point. His solos, were not only structurally very unusual, they were also well-constructed and show an instrumental technique difficult to match to this day. Rank was also a member of what may have been the most virtuosic trombone section of the time, Paul Whiteman’s orchestra, wherein he had the distinction of sitting with the incomparable Larry Collins (my own trombone teacher almost five decades later) and Wilbur Hall, whose skill on trombone and acrobatic humor on violin were featured on the 1930s film “King of Jazz.” A later Whiteman trombonist, Jack Teagarden, captured most of the trombone fame during the 1930s and 1940s, but always spoke very highly of Rank, who remained a close personal friend. Part of Rank’s obscurity may lie in the fact that he was removed from the jazz scene during the depression and did not re-emerge until the 1970s. Whatever the reason, Rank’s playing was certainly on a par with that of the best of his contemporaries and his unique approach and stylings graced all the recordings he was on. Bill Rank was a key figure, if unrecognized, in raising the trombone’s role as a solo voice and to new levels of virtuosity.

***Cow Cow Davenport: One of the most versatile pianists of his time, Charles “Cow Cow” Davenport (1894-1955) could play ragtime, blues, stride, boogie woogie and swing all with equal facility. His “Atlanta Rag” illustrates his flexibility as he moves from one style to another within the context of a single song. Davenport’s mastery enables him to sound alternately somewhat like Jelly Roll Morton, James P. Johnson, Jimmy Blythe, and even Earl Hines (for example, on “State Street Jive” where his left hand seems to take on a life of its own). His musical scope and technique were exceptional even among his gifted contemporaries.

***Freddy Jenkins: Jenkins (1906-1978) is best remembered as the flashy left-handed trumpet player in the early Duke Ellington band. His role here was to provide exciting, Louis Armstrong style solos, a role he was eminently qualified to perform. Despite his obvious technical skills and effervescent personality (on display on several early Ellington film clips), Jenkins never attained the fame of other Ellington brass men such as Cootie Williams, Rex Stewart, and Arthur Whetsol. Ellington, who esteemed him highly, showcased his talents on such numbers as “High Life” and “Daybreak Express.” While many of Armstrong’s followers achieved fame, Jenkins’ name has invariably been ignored, yet his technical skill was superior to most of theirs. This is partly due to the fact that he retired early from music due to a lung problem, but this doesn’t explain everything, since several others who also had short careers achieved more notoriety than he did.

***Joe Yukl: An outstanding dixieland style trombonist with a distinctive approach and style, Yukl (1909-1981) also possessed great technical skill and a highly advanced musical ear that enabled him to come up with some really interesting improvisational variations. His frequent use of pedal tones serve to make his solos instantly recognizable. His recording of “Body and Soul” for Jump records, recorded in the mid-1940s begins unaccompanied with a pedal B-flat and immediately rips up three octaves to a high B-flat before descending with a series of rapid, well played sixteenth notes prior to the entrance of the piano. The rest of the record displays his unique harmonic sensitivity, creativity, and style to full advantage. Yukl played many other outstanding solos during his career, but never attained the fame among the critics and general public that Jack Teagarden and others did, although his fellow musicians always considered him to be uniquely gifted.

***Adele Girard: Girard’s obscurity is primarily due to her choice of instrument. The harp is rarely associated with jazz, yet Girard (1913-1993) was as hard swinging on this unusual and unwieldy instrument as just about anyone else was on more conventional instruments. Interestingly, she was not the only swing harpist: Casper Reardon led the way with his 1934 recording of “Junk Man” and Mario Lorenzi was also capable of providing a driving sound. However, Girard swung the hardest and was the best improvisor of the three. “Joe Joe Jump,” a 1944 collaboration with her husband, clarinetist Joe Marsala, is a stunning example of what the harp could do in the proper hands. Like several others on this list, she is inexplicably not listed in Leonard Feather’s “Encyclopedia of Jazz.” Yet her approach was thoroughly rooted in jazz improvisation, and she swung much more convincingly than her husband, whose rhythm was often unsteady. Even though her career extended into the 1980s, she still has not achieved the recognition she deserved.

***Cutty Cutshall: A veteran of Benny Goodman’s big band, Robert “Cutty” Cutshall (1911-1968) is best remembered as a member of the Eddie Condon dixieland clique beginning in the 1940s. Cutshall was a highly skilled trombonist whose versatility enabled him to fit in a wide variety of settings. While he did not possess a uniquely identifiable style as did some of his contemporaries, Cutshall was able to play both smoothly and with considerable drive. His improvisational abilities were exceptional and always interesting, a fact borne out on his countless recordings; Cutshall remained a top performer up until the time of his death. While he has often been dismissed as just another Jack Teagarden imitator, his work never copies that of Teagarden or of anyone else. His section mate in the Goodman band, Lou McGarity, also became a fixture in dixieland circles, but overall Cutshall was the more interesting soloist.

***Maurice Morand (dates unknown): The New Orleans Feetwarmers recorded several examples of what may be the best examples of pure, exciting New Orleans jazz. Credit for the success of their 1932 recordings has always gone to Sidney Bechet and Tommy Ladnier who played soprano saxophone and trumpet respectively. Hank Duncan was also a highly regarded stride pianist in his day. But the rhythm section drove much harder than others from that time did; most of these rhythm sections were generally felt rather than heard. Maurice Morand was a New Orleans drummer who made few recordings, with the Feetwarmers sides being his lasting legacy. All the best techniques of early drumming can be heard on these recordings, and it is doubtful that there were any other drummers in 1932 that could match his drive and musical versatility. While he does not solo (drum solos were all but unheard of in 1932), he drove the band and supported it at the same time, and because of this, the Feetwarmers recordings have a much fuller sound than any other small group on record at that time; there is a discernible propulsive quality at the core of its sound, something notably absent in earlier bands. Despite his obvious skills, and the commercial success of the Feetwarmer’s records, Morand is not mentioned in any of the leading books on jazz. Indeed, his name on the recordings is usually listed as “Morris Morland.” Virtually nothing is known of his life, other than the fact that he and Bechet did not get along (few people apparently did; Bechet once famously described himself as “evil”) and that he survived his better-known brother, trumpeter Herb Morand, by many years. His actual birth and death dates are unknown. It is high time that this ridiculous oversight be corrected; if recordings are any indication of skill, then Morand was undoubtedly the best drummer of his time.

***Frankie Carle: Was one of the better-known band leaders from the swing era whose name, to the best of my knowledge, has never appeared in any of the leading jazz books. Carle’s (1903-2001) name has been lumped along with that of Eddy Duchin, Carmen Cavallero, and other “cocktail” style pianists. This is most unfair; even a casual listening of his records will show a musician at the top of his game, a man who in addition to being an outstanding technician, was also a first-rate improvisor. His band was quite good, but Carle’s reputation rests on his compositions and his solo piano works. His best-known song is “Sunrise Serenade,” which became a swing era classic, but he wrote numerous other fine melodies as well, including “Estelle,” “Oh What it Seemed to Be” and “A Lover’s Lullaby.” His solo piano recordings merit serious study by the critics, as the show a pianist whose skills rival that of Teddy Wilson and other jazz pianists. For example, compare his two versions of “Carle Boogie” and notice the variations in his playing; clearly he was a most comfortable improvisor, and swing comes as naturally to him as to his better-known jazz counterparts. “Estelle” is a fine composition showing off his harmonic imagination, somewhat reminiscent of Bix Beiderbecke’s piano compositions, while the different versions of “Hindustan” are model jazz performances which are at once elegant and exciting. His ideas are original and always highly swinging. To be sure, Carle’s band recorded a lot of forgettable fluff, but so did just about every other big band leader. But it is as a composer and improvisor that Carle showed his true talents, and his dismissal by the leading jazz writers is more than an over-sight; it is downright inexcusable.

***Paul Nero:  The violin has never been an enormously popular instrument in jazz circles, but this does not mean that there haven’t been some truly outstanding performers on the instrument.  One of the very greatest of these was Paul Nero (1917-1958), a classical virtuoso who dedicated his life to jazz and, later, bebop.  Part of the problem of his obscurity may lie in the fact of his early death; jazz violin enjoyed a rejuvenation of sorts in the 1970s with the re-discovery of earlier quasi-legendary performers including Joe Venuti and Stephane Grappelli, who gained much-deserved fame in their twilight years.  Had Nero survived, he too would have no doubt benefitted from this revival of interest.  Nonetheless, Nero’s talent and originality are beyond dispute, as even a casual listening of his extant recordings will reveal.

***Johnny Guarnieri: Guarnieri (1917-1985) has always been highly rated, but the accolades have never been accorded him as they have other pianists from his time. Brought up as a swing pianist in the big bands of Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw and others, Guarnieri was an avid student of stride piano and eclipsed most of the practitioners of this most difficult style of jazz piano. His speed and overall technique were equaled only by the peerless Art Tatum, and his melodic inventions and harmonic interpretations should be studied by anyone seeking to learn jazz piano. An absolute master and a true American original, Guarnieri has to be seen to be believed, and we are fortunate in that there are numerous surviving film clips of his exciting work available on YouTube. One of the best of these can be seen by typing in “Al Hirt 01.” His jaw dropping virtuosity should make one wonder why the supposedly expert jazz critics have generally ignored his talents. In addition, any of his many albums are also of the highest musical quality. “Echoes of Ellington,” “Cheerful Little Earful” and many others should be on the shelf of all aficionados of true jazz music.

***Louis Cottrell, Jr.: was the son of a well-known New Orleans jazz drummer who made some records in the 1920’s with Piron’s Jazz Orchestra. Cottrell Jr. (1911-1978) was perhaps the last in a long line of outstanding traditional jazz clarinetists from the Crescent City. As a soloist, his taste and imagination were impeccable, but perhaps his outstanding trait was in composing counter-lines to what the trumpet and trombone were playing; Cottrell was a master polyphonist. An excellent example of this can be seen in the 1962 Atlantic album “Paul Barbarin and his New Orleans Band” (one side). Perhaps the best of the traditional jazz albums of the 1960s, all the musicians play at an exceptionally high level and prove that real New Orleans jazz was just as alive and viable then as it had been forty years earlier. Cottrell weaves continuously inventive lines and, in the best New Orleans tradition, increases the tension during the final chorus of each song, in the process helping to produce some of the most exciting contrapuntal jazz ever recorded. In addition to his matchless musical talents, Cottrell, beginning as a teenager, worked tirelessly to organize a “Colored Musicians Union” as a chapter of the American Federation of Musicians. New Orleans in those days was of course a Jim Crow town. Cottrell’s civil rights efforts were ultimately rewarded when black and white musicians were able to work and play together without racial issues being paramount. Cottrell’s ultimate legacy is thus twofold, both as master clarinetist and pioneering civil rights advocate.

***Ernie Cagnolatti: was the talented trumpeter on the aforementioned Paul Barbarin album. Cagnolatti (1911-1983), although not born in New Orleans, quickly learned and mastered the traditional style and knew the role of the trumpet in the New Orleans ensemble. His playing is rather reminiscent of Bunk Johnson, proof of which is on display on most of his recordings. For example, “Too Late,” from the Barbarin album, has him playing the melody in a fairly straightforward manner until the last chorus, when he begins to improvise and drive the band toward an exciting ending. This is pretty much a page out of the Bunk Johnson notebook, as Bunk approached his songs in the same way. In the best New Orleans tradition, “Cag” does not dominate the proceedings, but plays with enthusiasm and originality that contributes greatly to the album’s success. Although not a great virtuoso, Cagnolatti had a sassy drive that lent itself perfectly to the recordings he was on. At a time when many New Orleans trumpeters were superannuated and mediocre (at least on record), Cagnolatti stood out as a stellar reminder that the traditional style still had a great deal to offer.

***Waldren “Frog” Joseph: Although a product of the big band era, Joseph’s basic approach was rooted in the traditional tailgate trombone style. Joseph (1918-2004) was more of a virtuoso than his earlier counterparts, but his more-notes approach did not distract from the ensembles he played in. The punch and syncopation that makes true New Orleans trombone playing extremely difficult to emulate and harder still to master seems to have been conquered fairly early by Joseph. His heyday was in the 1960s when his unique approach graced some of the best New Orleans albums from that period. Joseph played a prominent role in the Paul Barbarin album mentioned above, in addition to many other fine albums. Joseph was a versatile performer equally at home in big bands and rhythm and blues ensembles. His main contribution to jazz and to the trombone was an evolutionary one: he demonstrated that one could still maintain the trombone’s original role in New Orleans ensembles while at the same time giving it much more flexibility and range.

The afore-mentioned are but a few of the outstanding performers from jazz’s heyday who have never achieved the stardom they deserved. Some, such as Allen, Higginbotham, Shavers and Procope, have always been highly regarded (Higginbotham, for example, was a frequent jazz poll winner) although usually relegated to secondary status behind lesser musical luminaries. Rarely have they been placed in the upper echelon of jazz greats where they belong. Others described herein have received little or no attention either from the critics or the general public. Most of these performers discussed in this article seem to have totally dropped off the historical radar. It is to be hoped that this article will inspire readers and listeners to examine their works and recognize them as the major figures they were.