DAVENPORT BLUES
Davenport Blues was the first
composition
by Bix Beiderbecke to have been recorded. The historic event took place
in the Gennett Recording Studios of the Starr Piano Company, in
Richmond,
Indiana, on January 26, 1925. Bix wrote, late in December 1924,
to
E. C. A. Wickmeyer of the Starr Piano Co. to arrange a recording
session.
After an exchange of letters, Bix and the contact man of the Starr
Piano
Company settled on Monday, January 26, 1925 as the date for the
recording
session.
The musicians in the group - Bix
Beiderbecke
and His Rhythm Jugglers - were: Bix (cornet), Don Murray (clarinet),
Tommy
Dorsey (trombone), Paul Mertz (piano), Tommy Gargano (drums), and Howdy
Quicksell (banjo). Bix drove with Hoagy Carmichael from Indianapolis
and
the musicians were supposed to meet Bix at the Gennett studios. Howdy
Quicksell
did not make it until the afternoon and therefore did not participate
in
the first two recordings, Toddlin' Blues and Davenport
Blues. All the musicians played in the last two recordings, Magic
Blues and No One Knows What's It All About, but
all
takes of these two songs were destroyed. Murray, Dorsey, Mertz and
Quicksell
were members of the Jean Goldkette Orchestra and we know their
whereabouts
following the Rhythm Jugglers session. Murray, Quicksell and Mertz
continued
working for the Jean Goldkette organization. Nothing is known about Tom
Gargano, a freelance drummer from Detroit. Tommy Dorsey went to New
York
and joined the California Ramblers. Apparently, Tommy Dorsey was good
friends
with Doc Ryker. Rickey Bauchelle, Doc's daughter, has letters that
Tommy
Dorsey wrote to Doc Ryker. In a letter dated February 28, 1925, Tommy
writes,
among other topics, about the Gennett-Jugglers date: "I am sure
surprised
to hear that Bix is going with Charley Straight. I thought he was going
back to school. I hope he dont forget I am living if he gets any
royalty
at all because that trip cost me sixty bucks, they told us in the
Gennett
place that the records would not be out for about two weeks yet."
Excerpt from Randy Sandke's "Bix Beiderbecke:
Watching
a Genius at Work", p. 10-12. To
read about this booklet, click here.
On January 26, 1925 Bix made his
recording debut as a leader. This record would be issued under the name
of Bix Beiderbecke and his Rhythm Jugglers. Bix's nonchalant attitude
towards
this date (and perhaps his career in general) is described by Hoagy
Carmichael
who was present at the session. According to him, the musicians
proceeded
to get drunk to the point that the last two tunes they recorded were
deemed
unacceptable for release. (To be fair, however, the Gennett file card
mentions
technical problems as well.)
Hoagy took photos of the session.
These and a handful of others that show Bix in action (including the
quick
glimpse we get of him in Paul Mertz's home movies of the Goldkette
band,
and the recently discovered newsreel of Bix with Whiteman) all
demonstrate
an attitude towards playing that seems casual in the extreme. Most
trumpet
teachers advocate good posture to facilitate breath control, but Bix is
always seen slouching, or sitting with legs crossed. The recommended
way
to finger a trumpet is with the fingertips straight over the valves,
but
Bix's are bent over in a lazy fashion. Dic Turner, a friend and admirer
of Bix as well as an amateur trumpeter, said Bix played leaning over at
the floor at about a 45 degree angle, and the photos bear this out.
This session will provide much
evidence of Bix's divided attitude towards himself and his music. He is
at the same time dead serious and insouciant to the point of
negligence.
Any good jazz player must find a balance between being focused and
loose,
but with Bix this conflict, combined with his drinking, would later
develop
into a insurmountable problem.
Nevertheless the session did
provide
us with the only example of a jazz tune of Bix's composition:
"Davenport
Blues". Although this tune has at times a "bluesy" feeling, it is again
not a 12-bar blues.
The tune consists of a four bar
introduction, a 16 bar verse followed by a 32 bar chorus, after which
the
the verse and chorus are repeated with a 2 bar extended ending. Two
things
are unusual about this piece. First of all, Bix uses the same melody
for
the verses, but both choruses have have different melodies (though
nearly
identical chords.) Only on the last refrain of the chorus do we hear
the
familiar melody which we identified as "Davenport Blues."
The second unusual feature of
"Davenport
Blues" is the way both choruses end in different chord progressions. In
the first chorus Bix plays breaks over chords reminiscent of a similar
spot in "Jazz Me Blues".
On the second chorus Don Murray
plays the breaks on clarinet over a chord progression more like
"Ostrich
Walk." It is as if Bix couldn't decide which one he liked best. This
indecision
is mentioned by both Bill Challis and Esten Spurrier in regard to Bix's
later piano pieces; Challis: "Each time he'd play a passage he'd think
of some way to improve it," and Spurrier, "He said he'd compose three
bridge
passages but couldn't decide which one to use, and that I had to select
the best."
Carmichael says that "Davenport
Blues" was created on the spot. "Bix stated doodling on his horn.
Finally
he seemed to find a strain that suited him but by that time everybody
had
taken a hand in composing the melody... As far as I could see, they
didn't
have any worked out, or tune for that matter, but when the technician
came
in and gave the high sign, they took off." On the other hand, Paul
Mertz,
the pianist on the date, remembered Bix bringing a lead sheet. The
arrangement
does seem to be too involved for a pick up band to play from memory
with
little rehearsal, especially given their intoxicated state.
Although Bix is often identified
with a penchant for the whole-tone scale, his break in the opening
chorus
is the only recorded example of him actually playing one (tough it's
still
one note shy of a full six-note whole tone scale.) Later on, though,
his
piano pieces would abound in progressions of augmented 9th and 11th
chords
which are derived from whole tone scales.
Since this is Bix's first date
as a leader, it is interesting to consider his choice of sidemen and
tunes.
All the musicians in the band were drawn from Goldkette's working band
(with the exception of Tom Gargano, a freelance drummer from Detroit,
where
the others were based). Bix's had a tendency to contract musicians he
was
currently working with for recording dates. Bix has been criticized for
not going beyond his narrow circle to recruit musicians who were more
on
his level. Yet he undoubtedly felt comfortable in the presence of these
comrades, and in Tommy Dorsey and Don Murray he found very able
support.
He developed a particularly close relationship[ to Don Murray, and Bix
seems to be happiest and most relaxed in the photos of them together.
Don
Murray's premature death in 1929 would be a big personal blow for Bix.
Of the material that Bix chose
to record in addition to "Davenport Blues," there was another tune
written
by La Rocca and Shields of the ODJB, called "Toddlin' Blues." The
Gennett
file card lists two additional tunes that were recorded but unreleased.
The first was "Magic Blues." No composer is credited so it may have
been
another Beiderbecke original (or maybe the on-the-spot composition
Hoagy
Carmichael recalled) which perhaps could provided us with another rare
glimpse of Bix playing a 12-bar blues. The other was a pop tune
entitled
"No One Knows What's It All About" written by Harry Woods. It had been
recorded by the Memphis Five and the Varsity Eight in a version that
features
Adrian Rollini. Paul Mertz said that Bix's arrangement included "a
tricky
tempo change in the middle, and by now we were all pretty well
lubricated
and kept muffing the tempo change. We never really got it right."
What is interesting to me is that
this session represents the only time Bix attempted to record a jazz
tune
of his own composition. There would be many opportunities to record
more
with Trumbauer or under his own name but he declined. This is
especially
puzzling given the many accounts of Bix sitting at the piano working on
his own music. Laziness or lack of discipline don't explain Bix's
disinterest
in this area. I think it had more to do with Bix's ambivalent feelings
toward jazz.
Davenport Blues is a number composed by Bix Beiderbecke
and recorded by him, with his Rhythm Jugglers, in 1926 (top photo).
With him were Don Murray on clarinet and Tommy Dorsey
on trombone. It is very badly recorded, pre-electric, muddy and
muffled. Only Bix’s cornet emerges with any clarity. Davenport Blues is
not a real blues. It is a jaunty, medium tempo number which in Bix’s
recording consist of 3 sections, each of 32 bars. The first section is
the verse; the melody here has a preliminary unfinished quality about
it as if leading to another more striking one. The second section
consists of a 16 bar variation on the verse theme, followed by a
reprise of the theme itself. The third section is the chorus, the most
distinctive, bitter sweet melody starting with two four note rising
arpeggios, then descending to “blue” Aflat and a trill, followed by a
repeat, a variation and a reprise. Bix’s cornet is tender and relaxed;
he plays very much “on the beat” giving it, to our ears, a rather
archaic quality.
This archaic quality is even more apparent in the version recorded a
year later by Red Nicholls.
If Bix plays on the beat, Nicholls is nailed to it. It is however a
much clearer electric recording and we get a true idea of Nicholls’s
clipped cornet and Miff Mole’s effortful trombone. The tempo
is similar to Bix’s recording. The order is reversed. The chorus is
played first on cornet. The verse comes in with Mole’s trombone before
reprise of the chorus on alto sax, piano and cornet in that order. It
is well drilled and clean but to our ears, even more so than Bix’s, it
is corny – on the beat, jerky and ragged.
Bunny Berigan,
dubbed Bix’s successor in the 1930s by virtue of the lyrical quality of
his playing, also recorded Davenport Blues with his own band in 1938.
Rhythmically and musically this is more sophisticated. Sixteen bars of
the verse from the band are followed by the chorus melody on Berigan’s
trumpet, much better played and with more subtlety than either Bix or
Nicholls. Berigan’s rather more Louis Armstrong like tone gives it more
drama and depth.
Louis Armstrong, recently deceased, was the
subject of a memorial concert at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, London, in
November 1971. On that night Davenport Blues was played as a duet by Alex
Welsh (lower photo above) on cornet and Fred Hunt on
piano. A CD
of
Alex Welsh’s contribution to the concert has been issued (but it is
hard to get). This time it is slowed right down, concentrating solely
on the chorus. Welsh’s entry after an opening piano flourish from Hunt
is stately. The theme is played simply with some flourishes but never
straying far from the melody. At this tempo the melody opens out, and
seems more like a real blues than it is. Welsh’s cornet is clean; it
has something of Bix’s bell like tone but with a burnished quality that
gives it more warmth. Welsh plays the “blue” Csharps and Aflats with
relish, leaning on and roughening them. He gives the melody weight,
drama and pathos.
Hunt’s solo starts with broad sweeping
arpeggios interrupted by a brief boogie passage. The florid right hand
gives way to single note flurries, a section in double time with stride
like piano towards the end. Then Welsh returns. He plays an inversion
of the melody, with interpolations of real blues inflections before
coming back to the melody and some double time interplay with Hunt’s
piano. In the second sixteen bars he stays close to the melody, with
grace notes over double time, then to the last four bars played simply
and straight to a gentle close in slower time. At the end is Hunt's
poignant reprise of the opening notes of the melody high up over
Welsh’s long held final low note on cornet.
There are other
versions of Davenport Blues. But there is no doubt that the version
played by Alex Welsh and Fred Hunt at the Queen Elizabeth Hall on 28
November 1971 in honour of Louis Armstrong is the finest ever recorded.