Classic Coleman Hawkins Sessions 1922-1947 (#251)

If there’s one quintessential Henderson recording session, this may very well be it. All of the elements are in place: innovative soloists, classic arrangements/compositions, a sterling rhythm section and good recording quality. In addition, we are fortunate to have two takes of three of the selections. Henry “Red” Allen inspired the band with his asymmetrical phrasing and harmonic sophistication, two qualities he shared with Hawkins, but that he approached from the other end of the musical spectrum. The addition of guitarist Bernard Addison was the catalyst that elevated the rhythm section to a new height. Though not heard nearly often enough as a soloist, lead alto Hilton Jefferson, who had already been in the band for a spell was also a musician of the highest caliber, and his very presence made the band sound better.

Yeah Man is best known today for this performance, but what we actually have is Horace Henderson’s variations on a theme written by pianist/composer J. Russell Robinson (once billed as the “White Boy with the Colored Fingers”) and lyricist Noble Sissle. Nowhere is the original melody stated, and the closest we get to it is a paraphrase at the bridge, which is notable for its unusually augmented harmonic rhythms. A year later, Fletcher recorded it again, this time titling it Hotter Than ‘ell and claiming composer rights. Horace Henderson manages to attain a fullness from what was by the standards of just one year later, a relatively small band: four brass and three reeds. The horns colors are transparent, and the players manage the tricky and notey backgrounds with elan. Most importantly, the ideas flows chorus to chorus with the inevitability that marks superior composition.

Hawkins shoots off dozen of ideas in his solo spots, many stated in blocky quarter note triplets. A highlight is the off-handed high notes that conclude his full chorus on take 2, perfectly setting up the band’s shouting entry. Allen only has a moment to say hello, promising better things to come. The differences between the two takes are minimal. Take 1 has the ensemble playing the last note of the first phrase short, as opposed to the longer one on take 2. Hawkins works his way up to the same high note at the end of his solo, and repeats the same closing bridge. Allen’s brief statement is more conventional than is blues phrase on take 1.

The discographies list Fletcher as pianist on this date but it sounds more like Horace to these ears. Contemporary press reports list him as the band’s pianist in the months preceding this session, with Fletcher playing just the occasional feature. Horace was an infinitely better jazz pianist that Fletcher, and his light but firm touch in the rhythm section is immediately noticeable as he doubles the bass notes with Kirby, establishing a bass counterpoint to the ensemble and solos.

The band had been lacking a first-class clarinet soloist since Benny Carter left in 1930, and Procope manages his assignments competently; it wasn’t until he joined Ellington in 1946 that he realized his full potential on that notoriously difficult instrument.

The two King Porter Stomps are a different story. It seems that take 2 would have been recorded first. Listen for the way Hawkins cues the entry of the sax riffs behind Stark’s second solo, catching the others unaware for a few beats, and the imprecision of the closing chord. This sounds like a band running through something on the way to arriving at a consensus. This is borne out by the relative brilliance of take 1, where not only are the ensemble portions far more tight and the tempo brighter, but the solos also make their points more definitively. Allen’s bridging into his second chorus with Rhapsody In Blue and Hawkins’ descending chromaticisms were echoed in later years by many soloists, specifically Pee Wee Erwin with Goodman’s band, and Herschel Evans with Basie’s. The shout chorus is led by Allen, who varies from the text on take 1with a short ascending phrase, which may sound like an accident, but it’s fair to say it wasn’t. The fact that he felt free to ad-lib while playing the first trumpet part (for that section of the chart – it may be Smith beforehand) signals Henderson’s willingness to keep spontaneity at the forefront, something his student Goodman never did, and for which he eventually paid the price of all his bands sounding the same.

Coleman Hawkins wrote some well-regarded and unrecorded arrangements for the Henderson band, most notably Singin’ In The Rain. All that exists from his pen is the “futuristic” sounding composition Queer Notions in a Horace Henderson arrangement. Replete with whole-tone harmonies, it is more of showcase for Allen than the composer, whose plays the interlude and a couple of other brief solos. His last one, an ascending whole-tone bridge was to attain far great recognition when Lester Young adapted it diatonically in his very first recorded solo, Shoe Shine Boy three years later. Allen steals the show with a courageous solo that superimposes diminished chords and blues phrases over the shifting whole-tone background.

Fletcher returns to the piano for his original Can You Take It, a hybrid of Blue Skies and the blues, written in the unusual key (for jazz bands at that time) of A natural. Henderson was a proponent of playing in tonalities that contrasted with the great bulk of dance band music, which was usually pitched in C, or one, two or three flats or one or two sharps. By doing this, he relieved the listeners as well as the band from pitch fatigue. You may not know it, but if you hear too many tunes in closely related keys, you will sense boredom. Another benefit was that it kept the musicians on their toes. The stories from Henderson band members are legion about dealing with four, five and six sharp/flat keys, and some even remarked that they had trouble playing in C when they left the band. The A section of Can You Take It is taken straight from the Berlin standard, while the bridge is an inverse variation on the original. Hawkins and Allen solo on the main theme, with blues solos in the center by Sandy Williams and Jefferson. The latter’s individuality comes shining through, as he sounds nothing like the predominant influences of the day, Johnny Hodges and Benny Carter. The use of the high clarinets in close proximity to high brass during the opening section is unusual and quite exciting, as are the trilling backgrounds. But the dramatic highlight, as is usually the case, is created by Hawkins’ swashbuckling solo, meeting all the harmonies head on, and making out them ravishingly beautiful melodies. Allen’s soto voce and brief appearance towards the end is played non-chalantly, but is nonetheless full of subtle beauty. Interestingly, Henderson’s arrangement of Blue Skies became one of the classics in the Goodman library in 1935, and remained as one of the clarinetist’s all-time favorites.

As with King Porter Stomp, the originally issued take 1 is slightly faster, more concise and tighter (especially the ensemble tonguing), but there is a spontaneity to take 2 that I find more attractive. They seem to be pushing on take 1, and on the plus side, Jefferson and Allen are closer to the mic and in the former’s case, plays a superior solo. Suffice it to say, it’s wonderful that both exist. If the coda sounds familiar, that’s because Henderson reprised it in his arrangement of Between The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea for Benny Goodman.