Opus Number One
http://www.dixielandcrackerjacks.com
Sy Oliver wrote Opus Number One when he joined Tommy Dorsey's band in 1939. His work with the legendary Jimmy Lunceford orchestra is even more impressive.
Read his own words:
The first records I became involved with, that really changed my life, were early Fletcher Henderson and Duke Ellington things. The ones I remember particularly were Ellington's "East St. Louis Toodle-oo" and, on the other side, "Birmingham Breakdown". At the same time I heard Fletcher Henderson's "Clarinet Marmalade", "Hot Mustard", "Stampede". That's when Fletcher had the incredible saxophone section of Don Redman, Buster Bailey and Coleman Hawkins— imagine that. Also I grew up not too far from Springfield, Ohio, which was where McKinney's Cotton Pickers originated; so I heard them. These were my first exposures to what we call jazz.
From the time I began hearing those records, I started trying to write. You know, most people think music is born full-blown on the printed page, but I knew better—I'd seen my father. He had a choir that was quite famous in that area, and he arranged for them; he adapted the spirituals and some of his own compositions. So I knew music could be written; it wasn't a strange concept to me.
The bands I was with before Lunceford were important, in the sense that many of the musicians you know now came through these same bands. For instance, the first band I joined when I left home was Zack White's band in Cincinnati. Guys like Vic Dickenson played with Zack. Roy Eldridge played with various bands in that area, including Zack. It was a sort of stepping-stone from the West towards New York, which was the Mecca, of course. So many fellows followed the same tracks, so to speak.
As a leader. Jimmy Lunceford was a remarkable man. He was a man who led by example; he never raised his voice, never repeated anything. never imposed discipline by means of penalties and that sort of thing. You did what he expected you to do because you wanted to do it for him. And the band reflected that, by the class it had. He was a very impressive man to look at: while the character of many bands is established by the leader's musical outlook, Jimmy's band took its character from him as a person.
Yes, the band was very innovative; it sort of bridged a gap. Prior to Lunceford's band, there were two music areas. There was music above 110th Street and there was music below 110th Street, and they had nothing in common. There were the black bands who played for black audiences, and the white bands who played for white audiences. Lunceford's band was the first that actually bridged the gap on a large scale, and began to appeal to both groups. With that and the fact that we were on the air from the Cotton Club every night for six months, we just got the ear of the whole public.
An interesting thing: you know how I used the baritone saxophone lines on things like "For Dancers Only"—well, nobody had done that before. There was a fellow in New York who had a celebrated music store called Manny's, known to all musicians, which, although he's dead now, is still carried on by his family. Well, due to our broadcasts, saxophone players heard the baritone things, and they began buying baritones as fast as they could get them; they were fascinated. The only trouble was, nobody was writing for baritones; you didn't find them in bands. Duke Ellington used the baritone, but most bands didn't. So after a few months, musicians realised they had no place to use the baritones they'd bought, and they all took 'em back to Manny's again. So he had a flock of returns! Of course, now they're very much a part of the scene. But at that time, without anybody writing for baritone, most saxophone sections consisted of three or four men, rather than the five which became standard.
not bad its great by the casa loma orchestra
tony1uk2000 3 years ago
Do you also play dixieland Cd's in your radio show?
ABrandsma 3 years ago