Roberto Laneri: White Blues / One-Man Big Band

In all types of music, there are instrumental combinations which are particularly iconic and representative of the style and period in which they appear and develop. In fact, once these combinations have become established, they go beyond a merely representative role to becoming determinants of style and finally acting as transformative and evolutionary forces, often re-inventing their own tradition. As examples, we have the string quartet in European western music, the Gamelan ensemble in Indonesia, the Launeddas ensemble in Sardinia, the barbershop quartet in the U.S and countless others. In the field of jazz, the big band is a fascinating example of longevity and excellence.

In the beginning there was the marching band, but then, as marching bands settled down and became stationary, so to speak, fairly large combinations of instruments, often seemingly casual assemblages, began to appear. In time, in what is known as the “Swing Era”, a more or less standard version of the big band emerges. It is composed of “sections”: trumpets, trombones, saxophones, a rhythm section (piano/guitar, bass and drums), often a resident vocalist (Frank Sinatra began his career with the T ommy Dorsey band, and his best recordings in my opinion are the ones with the Count Basie band at the height of his fame). We have examples of big bands born around and showcasing special soloists, like Lionel Hampton (vibraphone), Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw (clarinet), T ommy Dorsey (trombone), Earl Hines (piano), Chick Webb (drums) and many others.

Of course, keeping a big band active and working for a substantial amount of time is no easy task, requiring energy, musicianship, managerial and organizational skills, a charismatic personality. Often, in jazz history, big bands appear only for very short periods, sometimes reaching fantastic achievements in a short time. There are examples of short-lived bands born for a special recording project and becoming extinct by the time the record is out. Outstanding examples: the Birth of the Cool band, which recorded only one LP, or the band assembled by the British arranger Spike Hughes during a trip to the U.S. under the name Spike Hughes and his Negro Orchestra, which recorded only a handful of incredible sides.

Among Duke Ellington’s amazing achievements, I would definitely list keeping together a big band in working order for what amounts to a lifetime, blending individuality and togetherness. This is a recording of my personal big-band, to the extent I play all the parts, with a couple of special guests. The instruments in use are the ones I can play, namely sopranino, soprano and alto sax, clarinet, bass clarinet, plus occasional didjeridoo, voice, kazoo, synthesizer, bits of percussion. There are no drums, because I don’t feel the need for them.

In fact, I find a drum set often clouds the orchestral colors and “eats up” overtones, especially when played too loud, as is so often the case these days. Besides, I have no space in my studio. I regret I don’t know how to play brass instruments, otherwise I certainly would include them in the line-up. Sopranino saxophones can provide a passable imitation of a trumpet section, especially when muted.

And of course bass clarinets get to do a lot of work in the low register. As to the double bass, it just could not and should not be missing. Consequently, in quite a few pieces my first guest is Stefano Roffi, of Dosto & Yevsky fame. When he is not there I use a DX7 synthesizer.

Other guests are vocalists extraordinaire Felicita Brusoni and Giuppi Paone. My heartfelt thanks to all of them. Having said all this a great variety of sound is to be expected. Obviously, this is no standard big band from the Swing Era, and the writing contributes a lot to make it even less standard.

The general outlook is certainly not avant-garde inclined, in fact one can recognize traditional practices, such as the clarinet trio, a standard fixture in the music of the late Twenties and Thirties. The basic core is a saxophone section composed of sopranos and altos, with the bass clarinet impersonating the baritone, a personal edition of Woody Herman’s “four brothers sound”. The improvised parts exhibit a lot of variety, layering together performance practices from different times and styles, often a sort of polyphony reminiscent of New Orleans style can be heard. In fact, there is a lot of polyphonic writing and improvising which definitely evoke memories of early jazz.

Other than that, the general sound is a sort of ballroom acoustics, evoking the soundtracks of the movies from the Thirties and Forties, bathed in huge ballrooms in Central and South American towns, from Cuba to Buenos Aires. As to the title: “white” because as much as I love black music, after all I’m white, “blues” because out of 9 pieces there are 4 blues, 3 of them by myself. South and Soooo Blue… are much heavier stuff, dripping with Southern spleen. T wo pieces are by William Christopher Handy, Saint Louis Blues and Careless Love.

WHITE BLUES is a sort of mainstream big-band opening number, its function to raise the curtain. DEAR OLD STOCKHOLM is a tune I’ve been in love with from the very first time I heard it. Originally a Swedish folk tune (Ack Värmeland du Skona) was brought to fame by Stan Getz, who heard it on a Swedish tour during the Fifties and made a world success record of it. In my recording I adopt Stan’s version of the tune, with the peculiar twist of changing one note with a surprise charming effect.

SOUTH is a blues with a Monk flavor, based on a descending minor third motivic cell. There is a first, very loose statement of the theme by 3 bass clarinets, (as is often the case, a very tight writing produces very loose results) like 3 wandering musicians slowly converging together. Then a long bass clarinet solo unfolds over a 12/8 (or 4/4 triplets if you wish) ostinato, followed by the theme. After a short fermata, the same structure is repeated, this time for a soprano saxophone solo, the effect akin to Escher’s Day & Night.

A reprise of theme closes the piece. MOOD INDIGO, the first of two homages to Duke Ellington, starts out in a Renaissance madrigal atmosphere and is through-composed, out of respect for the fabulous soloists who played in the Ellington band. SOOOO BLUE… is a real lowdown to earth blues in 6/8 with a Southern flavor, built upon short riffs I found in recordings by Charlie Mingus and Jimmy Giuffre, although stock material as well. There are solos in ascending order by bass clarinet, alto sax and sopranino sax, this one treated to simulate a screaming electric guitar.

LOVELESS CARE is a transformation of Careless Love, a piece written (or more likely appropriated) by William Christopher Handy, one of the musicians who attributed themselves the title of “father” or “originator” of jazz and blues. It tells a timeless tale of debasement and self-destruction, probably very common in those times and places. This picture of love is very different from the idealized tripe we find in the lyrics of hundreds of famous tunes and ballads. The music and the lyrics could hardly be more elementary, however Giuppi Paone closes the song on a hopeful note (“I was blind but now I see”).

The primitive feeling of the music is reinforced by the references to Australian Aboriginal music, both in the use of didgeridoo and bilma (sticks) and the aboriginal vocal style. A kazoo is also featured, a sort of poor man’s trumpet of which see later. I GOT IT GOOD (AND THAT AIN’T BAD), the second homage to Ellington, evokes the musics in which Ellington uses classically trained voices, here impersonated by the extended soprano range of Felicita Brusoni in a sort of Cat Anderson’s (Duke’s long-time altissimo trumpet range) impersonation. The tune comes as a bit of a surprise after an alto sax solo on a through-composed long introduction.

SAINT LOUIS BLUES is another piece by W .C. Handy. I chose it since for me it represented the essence of jazz and blues for many years, since I started listening to jazz. The present recording spreads over jazz history.

It starts with the kazoo, the glorified comb and paper toy instrument brought to fame during the Twenties and Thirties by Red McKenzie and the Mound City Blue Blowers, joined by clarinet (with a nod to Jimmy Noone, the clarinetist much admired by Ravel) and bass in an early jazz atmosphere. As the piece unfolds, it advances in time, with more than a passing reference to the great Gil Evans/Cannonball recording. ’WAY SOUTH OF THE BORDER is another remake of a well-known tune with a Latin feeling. Although this is an instrumental version, it is worth mentioning the lyrics, in which “…a man looks back with regret for having left a woman he cannot forget. When he returns much later, she is preparing to wed, presumably another man.

In the movie, however, she has become a nun to atone for her brother's crimes.” (from Wikipedia) In view of the fact that this song has become the soundtrack for countless books and movies featuring the escape to Mexico on booze and drugs and generally objectionable enterprises, I find the transformation very funny. This music is a fitting conclusion to a trip in and out of borders, musical and otherwise. (R.L.)