JazzWax

A close friend of Cole Porter at Yale, actor Monty Woolley began acting in 1936. His first credited film role came a year later in Live, Love and Learn. His breakthrough film role was the curmudgeonly and conniving Sheridan Whiteside in The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942), a role he perfected on Broadway starting in 1939 and then in Hollywood.

In 1951, he played the lead in As Young As You Feel, with Marilyn Monroe, Thelma Ritter and Constance Bennett. The film, directed by Harmon Jones (The House on 92nd Street, Pinky), is thoroughly charming, and while there are no holiday motifs in here, I love it most this time of year. [Photo above of Monty Woolley and Constance Bennett, who had one of the great Hollywood names]

Here's the whimsical Monty Woolley in As Young as You Feel, with You Make Me Feel So Young as the opening theme...

Yesterday I posted on arranger Billy May's Bill's Bag (1963). Today, let's have a look at May, the actor. In the promotional film below called Wanna Buy a Record? (1951), Mel Blanc, the voice of Bugs Bunny, plays a greasy record store owner who tries to cajole May's dim character into buying a record.

Some context. The reason Blanc struggles to interest passers-by in records is a result of the "speed war" taking place at the time. The 33 1/3 LP was unveiled by Columbia in 1948 and RCA countered in 1949 with the 45. The two giants battled over which format would dominate. The LP was a logical shoe-in, but RCA hung in there with its concept of selling multiple 45s as an album. Then, in 1952, the label's classical stars voiced their displeasure over the 45's fidelity and threatened to defect to Columbia.

Faced with a sharp drop in revenue, RCA grudgingly adopted the LP, leaving the 45 to flounder as a children's format at all labels and then, by extension, became the unbreakable format of R&B and rock 'n' roll. During this period, between 1949 and 1952, sales of LPs and 45s plummeted along with sales of record changers with the new speeds. Americans thought the 78 was perfectly fine and viewed the new formats as a gimmicky way for record companies to con them into spending money unnecessarily. Hence Blanc's struggle and Capitol's attempt to shore up its image.

In the film, we get a glimpse of Capitol's old executive offices at 1507 Vine Street above Wallich's Music City (below). Then, to convince May that records are cool, the pair tour Capitol's old Melrose Studios at 5515 Melrose Avenue (above) and the company's Scranton, Pa., plant. There's also a weirdly gruesome ending. Whether or not May was inebriated during the film's shooting remains unknown.

Also interesting, the film was made four years before Britain's EMI acquired Capitol and five years before the iconic, cylindrical Capitol Tower was completed by EMI. Best of all, we get to see the seemingly endless steps needed to make a record back in the early 1950s. Today, you can record an album on your home computer. Back then, you needed Frankenstein's laboratory and hundreds of workers. Given the toxic sprays, lethal chemicals and scant protection, it's a wonder anyone lived to work another day. Just watching the process induces a rash.

Here's Wanna Buy a Record?...

At the dawn of the 1950s, Billy May was the first arranger to update swing for Hollywood studio orchestras in the LP era. May's scores in 1951 were refreshingly free of classical overtones or a reliance on the blues. Instead, his brassy arrangements were jaunty, imaginative and witty. Gerry Mulligan and Neal Hefti were two other modernist swingers during this nascent period, but they were a lot less prolific than May. In all, May led more than 100 career jazz sessions and probably triple that number on the pop side.

With volume comes junk. Too many of May's albums in the post-1955, 12-inch era fall short and are cringe-worthy today. But when May was freed from the cheesy themes demanded by lousy producers, he had his way with spectacular results. One of these albums, Bill's Bag (Is of a Cool and Groovy Nature!), was recorded for Capitol in January, February and March of 1963.

Three different band configurations were used for this album over the three sessions. Which tells you how superb the musicians were, since the ones who played on the first date had other obligations for second or both follow-ups. This also tells you about the seemingly endless supply of crack players in Hollywood at the time, since those who stepped in were equally superb. Here are the recording sessions, the songs and the band personnel:

January 15—The Preacher, Dat Dere, My Little Suede Shoes and Shiny Stockings. The band included Conrad Gozzo, Uan Rasey, Frank Beach, Ray Triscari and Don Fagerquist (tp); Dave Wells (b-tp); Ed Kusby, Milt Bernhart, Tom Shepard and George Roberts (tb); Paul Horn (as); Justin Gordon (ts); Chuck Gentry (bar); Jimmy Rowles (p); Joe Gibbons (g); Max Bennett (b); Irv Cottler (d) and Billy May (ldr,arr).

Note: An extraordinary trumpet section above. Gozzo was a powerhouse, high-note power player; Rasey would go on to solo on many movie soundtracks, including Chinatown; Beach and Triscari were solid session players and Fagerquist as a soloist had one of the prettiest trumpet tones in the business.

February 11—Filet of Soul, Uh Oh! (Nutty Squirrels), Miles Behind and Children of the Night. The band featured Uan Rasey, Bud Brisbois, John Audino and Don Fagerquist (tp); Lew McCreary (b-tp); Ed Kusby, Milt Bernhart, Tom Shepard and William Schaefer (tb); Paul Horn (as); Justin Gordon (ts); Chuck Gentry (bar); Ray Sherman (p); Joe Gibbons (g); Ralph Pena (b); Alvin Stoller (d) and Billy May (arr,cond).

Note: The trumpet hitting stratospheric notes on the session above belonged to Bud Brisbois (above), who was considered one of the most accurate and consistent high-note studio trumpeters in the business.

March 19—Playboy's Theme, Whisper Not, Moanin' and The Late Late Show. The band swaps were George Roberts (above) and Tommy Pederson (tb); Jimmy Rowles (p) and Irving Cottler (d) replaced Tom Shepard, William Schaefer, Ray Sherman and Alvin Stoller.

Note: Roberts and Pederson, again, were among the most prolific trombonists in the Hollywood studios in the late 1950s and '60s.

All of the tracks on this album show off May's sexy arranging skills and swinging imagination. When released from the clammy clutches of Capitol's pop producers, May could give swing a smart spin and was never dull. His choice of songs also is interesting. Dat Dere and Moanin' are by hard-bop pianist composer Bobby Timmons. Children of the Night is by Wayne Shorter, and Whisper Not is by Benny Golson. The Preacher is by Horace Silver. My Little Suede Shoes is by Charlie Parker and Shiny Stockings is by Frank Foster. For one, these seven songs were by African-American composers. For another, a good number were Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers alumni.

As for the remaining five, Uh Oh! is by Don Elliot, Playboy's Theme is by Cy Coleman, The Late Late Show is by Murray Berlin, and Fillet of Soul and Miles Behind are by Billy May. The album not only shows that May was in tune with what was going on in the jazz space, but he also brought sophistication to each song. I have to believe that each artist was flattered and impressed with May's interpretation. For example, listen how hip the chords are voiced on Shiny Stockings!

As the 1950s progressed, the surging demand for 12-inch pop albums overwhelmed even the fleet pen of May, making room for Nelson Riddle, Frank Comstock, Skip Martin, Frank DeVol and so many others to pick up the slack. But in the beginning, there was May. And he was good.

Billy May died in 2004.

JazzWax tracks: You'll find Billy May's Bill's Bag here.

And the album is available for a free listen at Spotify.

JazzWax clips: Here's the entire album, starting with the first track, Children of the Night...

A special thanks to Kurt Kolstad.