The Hawk In Hi-Fi - Coleman Hawkins

 

His Very Own Blues

The Hawk In Hi-Fi

Coleman Hawkins with Billy Byers and His Orchestra

RCA Victor LPM-1281

1956

From the back cover: Coleman Hawkins is one of those rare figures on the jazz scene – a man who had to invent a means of jazz expression for his instrument. Before Hawkins took his place in Fletcher Henderson's saxophone section in the mid-Twenties, the tenor saxophone had no individuality as a jazz instrument. Hawkins singlehandedly made place of it. As Benny Goodman once said, Hawkins "invented the tenor."

In as robust and vigorous an art as jazz, it is not enough simply to break new ground. As an originator, Hawkins briefly set the pace and the style for entire saxophonists. But by his originality he had opened the floodgates, shon how it cold be done, and soon the challenges from other inventive tenor men were coming thick and fast.

A less flexible musician than Hawkins could have been buried under this avalanche, forgotten except as an outdated pioneer. Hawkins, however, is o that beed of men who require a challenge as much as they need air and food. For the past twenty years, as tenor styles have changed and the approach to jazz has been revolutionized, Hawkins has faced up to a constant challenge. The fact that he has met this challenge eagerly and gladly is reflected in the pliant quality of his playing today. When the gauntlet is down. Hawkins' is at his best, as he was when he returned from a long stay in Europe in 1939 to find that both he and his charging, chopping, gut-deep style of playing were considered passé. His answer, Body And Soul, is still a classic performance and a model for tenor men.

In planning the program for this album, Billy Byers had Hawkins' challenge-susceptibility in mind. Byers himself is a somewhat unusual figure on the jazz scene. Only 28 when he wrote and conducted these selections. Byers had already had a jazz career and two studio careers and was embarking on his second career in jazz. He was a West Coast studio trombonist when he was 16 and later – after spells in both Harvard and the Army – a sideman with Georgie Auld, Benny Goodman and Charlie Ventura. He retired from jazz when he was 22 to devote himself to arranging and laying on top TV shower. By 1955Byers fell he'd been retired long enough. He got back into jazz, mostly as a trombonist at first, then taking on more and more writing and  conducting assignments.

Byers first got to know Hawkins' work well in the early Forties. He was an admirer of that work but he noticed that as Hawkins giggled his way around the jazz circuit a repetition pattern was settling on most of his performances: Hawkins plays the melody, Hawkins plays jazz, Hawkins played an ending. For this RCA Victor session, Byers determined to break down this pattern and to face Hawkins with the kind of challenge to which he responds by settling him in three different kinds of groups. As Byers had hoped; it brought out three different aspects of Hawkins – the creative Hawkins, the stomping Hawkins and the thoughtful Hawkins.

First there was a mixed ensemble, a single trumpet (Jimmy Nottingham), four trombones (Urbie Green, Fred Ohms, Jack Satterfield, Tommy Mitchell), an oboe, two flutes, strings and a rhythm section made up of Hank Jones, piano, Barry Galbraith, guitar, Milt Hinton, Bass,  Osie Johnson, drums. Hawkins had known Byers as a trombonist but not as an arranger and at this first session he seemed curious to find out about this side of Byers. He plays on these numbers with a reserved a delicacy that is not always associated with him.

Much of this, of course, was this response to the framework in which Byers set him. On I Never Knew, for instance, Byers sets the scene with a slow flute (Julius Baker) before the rhythm section and the rest of the ensemble creeps in underneath for sixteen bars – all this before Hawkins finally bursts into view in the release. On this first chorus, Hawkins is glimpsed only briefly but on the second chorus, as the tempo increases, he take charge and is off on one of his richly embellished solos. Notice the apt delicacy of Osie Johnson' scumbag and brush break after Hawkins' solo, just before the stings return.

On Dinner For One, Byers brings Hawkins on after a brief string and reed introduction, setting a medium tempo for I'm with Hawkins playing with an unusually light, fluid tone. There are charming example of Hank Jones' light, lilting piano on both releases. One There'll Never Be Another You and Little Girl Blue, short, thoughtful tomboy solos by Freddie Ohms set off Hawkins' playing.

Next Byers faced Hawkins with a more familiar challenge – a big, shouting band with lots of loose blowing space for the Hawk to take flight in. This band is made up of five trumpets, (Nick Tavis, Ernie Royal, Bernie Glow, Chuck Kidd, Lou Oles), four (Green, Ohms, Satterfield and Chauncey Welsch), five saxes (Sam Marowitz, Hal McKusick, Al Cohn, Zoot Sims, Sol Schlinger) and the same rhythm section as before.

His Very Own Blues, A Hawkins composition, leads out of a pretty Hank Jones opening to a riff played by Hawkins and the trumpets, which is very reminiscent of his work in the mid-Forties. As he gets off on his own, he is his familiar, jabbing, angular self, constantly pushed bye the band and driven to top it as the band builds in back of him. 39"-25"-39", allegedly a descriptive title, turns Hawkins and the trumpets loose at the same pace.

The Bean Stalks Again, another riff-based piece but at a moderate tempo this time, leads off with a muted trumpet chorus by Chuck Kidde. There is a typical bit of Hawkins ingenuity as he picks u the diff under Kidde, takes it down, kneads it, swings it and builds it back up again before Kidde takes the figure quietly on out. I'm Shooting High also pairs Hawkins and Kidd and give Hank Jones a brief moment in the spotlight on the second chorus.

Byer's final challenge to Hawkins is double-edged – a band made up of a big sting section (fifteen pieces), a legitimate woodwind quartet, rhythm section, but no brass, plus, as one of the selections, Hawkins' most famous number, Body And Soul. Many of the changes in jazz in the past seventeen years, and the changes in Hawkins, are summed up in the difference between this Body And Soul and Hawkin's 1939 version. He challenges his old self from start to finish – and particularly at the finish as he deliberately sets out to outdo his old cadenza.

Throughout the pieces with the string section Hawkins olathe meditatively, often with great deliberation. Notice the quiet blend he actives with the strings and woodwinds near the end of The Day You Came Along and the smooth, melodic quality of his playing on his own tune, The Essence Of You, as he comes in after the strings have set the mood. Other high points: Hank Jones' lovely piano passage on both The Day You Came Along and Have You Met Miss Jones and, on this number, theft that is given to Hawkins' playing bye the brilliance and polish of the string section led by Gene Orloff. – John S. Wilson

Body And Soul

Little Girl Blue

I Never Knew

Dinner For One Please, James

The Bean Stalks Again

His Very Own Blues

The Day You Came Along

Have You Met Miss Jones

The Essence Of You

There'll Never Be Another You

I"m Shooting High

39"-25"-39"