Lionel Hampton: 
90th Birthday Celebration

1. Brand New Baby-(5:18) L.Hampton arr. Quincy Jones
2. When I Fall in Love-(5:30) Heyman-Young arr. L.Bryant
3. On the Sunny Side of the Street-(5:10)
    Mc Hugh-Fields arr. Quincy Jones
4. Exactly Like You-(3:22) McHugh-Fields arr. L.Hampton
5. Hallelujah-(2:34) D.Miller arr. D.Miller
6. It’s a Wonderful World-(4:32) G.D.Weiss arr. L.Hampton
7. Soul Serenade-(5:40) K.Curtis-L.Dixon arr. L.Bryant
8. Moaning-(5:40) J.Hendricks-R.Timmons arr. L.Bryant
9. Vibe-Blues-(5:32) L.Hampton arr. L.Hampton
10.Night in Tunisia-(6:25) D.Gillespie-F.Paparelli arr. D.Gillespie
Brand New Baby MP3
Night in Tunisia MP3
 
 

Flute,Piccolo; Marshall McDonald-Alto Sax, Clarinet; Joe Midirvi-Clarinet (4,9); Ray Franks-Baritone Sax; Tony Barrero-Lead Trumpet; Jim Rotondi-Trumpet; Joe Magnarelli-Trumpet; John Pendenza-Trumpet; Barry Ries-Trumpet; Charles Stepens-Trombone; Dick Griffin-Trombone; Brian Bonvisutto-Trombone; Jimmy Woode-Acoustic Bass; Bill Moring-Acoustic Bass (4,9); Kuni Mikami-Piano; John Colliani-Piano (1,4,9); Wally Gator-Drums; Yusef Ali- Drums (4,9)
  Sixty-two years have passed, yet Lionel Hampton and I can pinpoint the date we met for the first time: Friday, November 12th, 1936. How can we be sure? Because Hamp arrived in New York on the 10th to join the Benny Goodman band, and on November 25th a Benny Goodman interview appeared in the Horace Mann Record (the weekly newspaper of the Horace Mann School for Boys). As editor, I had given myself the assignment so I know it had to be that Friday because my parents would never let me go out on a Saturday night (“too dangerous”). That night was the first of hundreds I would enjoy backstage with musicians. A few weeks later Hamp earned an indelible place in my youthful memories, if only in the form of a scar on my right hand, which remains the constant reminder of the evening that the Goodman Quartet rushed uptown between sets to play a benefit fund-raiser Benny had liked my interview so much that he told Dwight Chapin, his all-purpose right-hand man at the time, that I was welcome to come backstage any time in the future. One night Chape (as he was known in the business) dragooned me and my classmate Charlie Miller into getting the Quartet’s instruments up to Columbus Circle for a benefit for the Spanish Loyalists, who were the hot liberal ticket that winter. It was a freezing January night, and I couldn’t unstrap Hamp’s vibraphone from the trunk rack on the back of the taxi without taking off my gloves. The metal rack took its toll –in blood- which made for a somewhat dramatic entrance.Chape wrapped my hand in a handkerchief, gave me Benny’s clarinet to carry and pushed me up the stairs while he and Charlie wrestled the vibes and Gene Krupa’s drums up a narrow staircase. In those days I wore horn-rimmed glasses and looked as though I might be Benny’s kid brother. I was the first one in the door and received (1) a standing ovation and (2) a fist sized glass brimming with what I assumed was amber wine. Chape, who had a working knowledge of Spanish, quickly assessed the situation.  “The think you are Benny,” he whispered. “Propose a toast to freedom.” “They don’t speak English and I don’t know Spanish,” I hissed. “No Problem,” said Chape, “Just yell ‘Muerte A Franco!” I did and was a smash hit. Everybody hoisted and tipped their glasses and I joined in.  That is, I started but in a flash I knew that I would never again try to slug down a 150-proof Catalonian brandy, even if I survived the next six seconds. Laugh? Never did a crowd of anti-Fascists yak it up so much. Lionel Hampton’s first big break came tat the most celebrated Prohibition-era nightclub in California- Frank Sebastian’s New Cotton Club in Los Angeles. He was a spectacular success as the drummer in Les Hite’s Band, earning star billing as “the world’s fastest drummer.” This was the group Louis Armstrong fronted when he came to the coast in the summer of 1931. On a couple of recording sessions, Hamp backed Lois on an instrument not previously heard in jazz. It was a vibraharp that just happened to be in the studio, and Lionel just happened to know how to play it. Hamp was as fast on his feet as he was with his hands. In Louis Armstrong’s first important feature film, “Pennies from Heaven,” Hamp played a huge supporting role in the “Skeleton In The Closet” production number, which remains a landmark film clip. That slick dancer in a high-blended skeleton costume is Lionel! Increasingly, after Louis returned East and Hamp’s career flourished in California, Lionel made a greater se of the vibraharp (soon to be better known as the vibraphone). 1936 found him leading the band at the Paradise Club in L.A., not long after Benny Goodman had arrived at the Palladium Ballroom, heralding the birth of the swing craze. Always on the lookout for new talent, Benny found Hamp at the Paradise. He sat in a few times along with Teddy Wilson, the pianist with whom Benny had teamed himself and the band’s drummer, Gene Krupa, to form the Benny Goodman Trio. Victor Records had enjoyed surprising success with the trio (originally strictly a studio entity) thanks to the color line, which remained tightly drawn in public venues. But Hampton’s musicality and showmanship prompted Benny to begin thinking of expanding the group to a quartet. He was pushing hard for on-stage integration and Hampton would add an extra dimension, for he was a singer and entertainer as well as a superb musician. For starters, just before he left California Benny invited Lionel to join the Trio in a memorable record date. The Goodman Quartet was born in the Victor Hollywood studios on August 21, 1936, and the success of the recording persuaded Benny to invite Hamp to New York, where he became a permanent part of the Benny’s now-famous chamber music interludes. When Gene Krupa left in early 1938, Hamp doubled as the band’s drummer until Dave Tough came over from the Bunny Berigan band. With Benny’s generous encouragement, Victor launched a series of pick-up sessions under Hamp’s leadership. After the first date (a stripped-down version of the Goodman band in February 1937), Lionel set up sessions with whatever major sideman came to town with some of the best bands. Ellington, Basie and Calloway musicians joined in with 52nd Street cast; one date in Chicago drew exclusively from the Earl Hines band. From the start, Hamp was responsible for introducing to the public a long list of extraordinary young musicians.

Dizzy Gillespie always considered his real recording debut to be the Hampton “Hot Mallets” session of 1939. The original Nat “King” Cole Trio, which I heard in Los Angeles that summer, actually made its disc debut en masse a year later on Hamp’s spectacular “Jack the Bellboy” session. When Charlie Christian came into the Goodman fold in 1939, the first side cut by the new Benny Goodman Sextet was Hamp’s “Flying Home.” It shot Christian into prominence and he was the key to the eventual launching of Hamp as yet another Goodman alumnus to become a bandleader. (Gene Krupa and Harry James were already established; Teddy Wilson was doing well at Café society). Goodman enlisted the aid of booking agent Joe Glaser (Louis Armstrong’s manager) and even invested in the new Hampton band. It really took off in the summer of 1940 and Hamp hasn’t looked back since. That first band set a pattern which continues to this day.  Star soloists – primarily jumping tenor saxophonists from the 17-year-old Dexter Gordon to Johnny Griffin, Illinois Jacket, Don Byas and Arnett Cobb – became a permanent hallmark. But Hamp also broke in young brass players, like Ernie Royal, Cat Anderson, Snooky Young, Jimmy Nottingham, Joe Newman, Fats Navarro, Clifford Brown, Joe Wilder and trombonists Al Grey and Jimmy Cleveland.  The band was a remarkable breeding ground for all kind of talent. The Montgomery Brothers (Wes, Buddy, and Monk) got their start as a unit with Hamp. Among his early vocalists were Joe Williams and a girl named Ruth Jones, whose name Hamp changed to Dinah Washington. For years, alto saxophonist Bobby Plater was a backbone (and straw boss) of the band, a role similar to that of Lance Bryant today. Hamp became an established bandleader during World War II, but I was in the army for nearly four and a half years and we didn’t see each other for years, except at a dance near Camp Croft, South Carolina where an MP captain chewed me out for hanging around backstage with “them people.” When I came home to rejoin Columbia, Hamp was already enjoying an extended record career, first with Decca and later with Norman Granz’s labels, but our paths crossed memorably nonetheless. Hamp happened to be available briefly while I was producing the first series of live LP’s at dance emporia around the country. Our “Walin’ at the Trianon” stands as a major contribution to this unique project. One night during a run at the Apollo Theater, Hamp heard that I was recording Mahalia Jackson down at Columbia's famous 30th Street Studio, and came by after the gig just for kicks. Mahailia and I promptly persuaded him to join the percussionists Eldon Bailey (of the New York Philharmonic) and Bob Prince, who were supplying a solid foundation to some Christmas songs; Hamp ended up playing vibraphone on three songs, which Norman Granz was generous enough to sit still for (we often made informal sidemen swaps despite exclusive contracts in those friendly days of the music business). A few years later while I was the director of Pop A&R at RCA Victor, I decided to bring the original Goodman Quartet together for a final fling. Hamp sparked the sessions as only he can. Lionel Hampton went on piling honors upon honors, with awards and tributes coming in from universities and governments all over the world. He gave as well as received: the Lionel Hampton Houses and Gladys Hampton Houses stand in Harlem as a symbol of his concern for people in all walks of life. One of Hamp’s most unusual accolades was the opening in the Hotel Meridien in Paris of Le Club Lionel Hampton. More recently, Paul Goerg, a prominent French champagne maker, created and named a new vintage in honor of Hamp. I bought a couple of the first cases of Cuvee Lionel Hampton, just in time for my 79th birthday (a month before Hamp’s 90th), and in the week that I am writing this my wife and I uncorked the remaining bottles for our daughter’s wedding – and out golden wedding anniversary. Sixty-two years have flown by and Lionel and I are still entangled in each other’s lives.  There has to be a meaning in that – but I don’t think it needs further explanation. (George Avakian, multiple Grammy-winning record producer and a major figure in the world of jazz for over 50 years acted as a consultant and advisor on this CD).


Recorded at: Nola Studios, NYC. - Knoop Recording Studio, NJ.
Mixed and Edited at: Knoop Recording Studio, NJ.
Engineer: Manfred Knoop - Asst. Engineer: Bill Moss.
Mixed by: Jeffrey Lesser.