Rare Combinations in Jazz
If you listen to enough old jazz music, you will eventually figure out that any given musician would be part of a larger musical orbit. That orbit would consist of other players who were friends or who came through the same bands. There would be frequent collaborations among players within these orbits and you tended to hear a similar way of coming to the music from each of these groups. Conversely, musicians of different orbits almost never interacted. For example, “Duke Ellington people” and “Count Basie people” almost never played together. Both groups featured great musicians, but they just came from different places and came at the music in different ways.
This is why it always gets my attention when an unusual grouping comes together, and I have a couple of examples to share today.
The first selection comes from a fairly mysterious recording date in October of 1940. What was unusual was that Count Basie’s rhythm section and two of his horn players (Buck Clayton and Lester Young) were joined by Benny Goodman and his electric guitar man, Charlie Christian. This pairing was unusual for all kinds of reasons. Not least of these reasons is that mixing of black and white musicians was still not common in that period. And musically, the Basie guys were a loose, free-swinging outfit while Goodman was known as a control freak who insisted on tight, error-free playing.

Still, there were some areas of common ground. All were top-flight players, and Goodman had a sense of swing that fit right in with the best of that style. Also, both bands were on good terms with music promoter John Hammond, who had been instrumental in giving each of the bands a boost in their early days. The two bands had also shared a stage in a 1938 jazz concert at Carnegie Hall.
It seems that Goodman had broken up his successful band in mid 1940 due to some nagging back problems. He was assembling a new band which was to be unveiled in November of 1940. Goodman had long featured small groups in addition to his big band, and he was working on some small-group updates as well. It seems that promotor John Hammond may have brought Goodman into contact with a small core of Basie’s band so that Goodman could get a feel for a small group with a pair of horn players.
This is one of four songs recorded in that October 28, 1940 session. “I Never Knew” was one of those songs that every musician had played at some time or other, so was part of the meat and potatoes of any jazzman’s repertoire. When I first heard this song recently, I had trouble identifying Goodman’s clarinet in this unusual context, and had to find out how this pairing (which was completely new to me) had come about.
Count Basie played his piano like a rhythm instrument, and was an integral part of what was widely acknowledged as the best rhythm section of its era. He was joined by Walter Page on bass, Jo Jones on drums and the rhythm guitar of Freddie Green. The other Basie guys were Buck Clayton (trumpet) and the incomparable Lester Young (tenor saxophone). Benny Goodman’s clarinet and Charlie Christian’s electric guitar round out this group, and a good time was had by all.
A record like this is, to me, the essence of jazz – a group of talented players who take turns riffing to a common song structure, with each bringing a special something to his solo time and blending into the background when it’s the next guy’s turn. The solos are Goodman (clarinet), Clayton (trumpet), Christian (guitar with Basie’s piano interlude) and Lester Young (tenor saxophone). It is impossible to listen to too much Lester Young who played “cool jazz” before it was a thing. Notice, too, drummer Jo Jones’ “less is more” style of drumming. Guys like Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich were the big power drummers of the day, but it was Jones who pioneered the soft touch that was somehow every bit as propulsive as the energetic pounding of the other guys.
Most interestingly, none of these discs was ever released by Columbia Records – for which both Basie and Goodman were recording then. It seems that some acetate discs made from that session were found years later, possibly those that were owned by Hammond. Recordings were made from them, and here we are.
* * *
The piece above gives me an excuse to share another unusual pairing I came across some time back. We have featured Nat King Cole, Mel Torme, June Christy and the song “How High The Moon” before here, but never together, as happened on an episode of the Nat King Cole Show in July, 1957.
By 1957, Cole was on top of the mountain as a popular singer and entertainer. That he was given the opportunity to host a weekly television show is proof if, any is needed. That show, which ran for two seasons, (fifteen minute episodes in 1956 and thirty minute episodes in 1957) is an interesting story. NBC underwrote the costs because it could find no national sponsor. The network assumed that once the show got underway a national sponsor would step forward, but none did. Cole himself pulled the plug after the second season even though NBC was still willing to underwrite the show’s costs.
Cole’s show featured a who’s who of top musicians, many of whom appeared for union scale or even for free in an effort to give a boost to their friend’s television show. This show (which was the only show on television to be headlined by a black performer) was probably one of the best on television in its day and was a sad commentary on how the big national sponsors were unwilling to underwrite a show that they feared might cost them popularity in the south.
Nat King Cole was one of the most popular crooners of the 1950’s, and was as responsible as anyone for the success of Capitol Records up to that time. This performance takes him back to an earlier part of his career when he was one of the best jazz piano guys in the business. It is almost impossible for me to get too much of Cole at the keyboards, so here we are.
It is hard to say too much about Cole’s playing style. In addition to his skills at the keyboard, his mind brought forth a never-ending stream of musical ideas that immediately found their way to his fingertips. How, for example, does one think of the old Irish tune The Girl I left Behind me and work it into How High The Moon? Cole was forever doing things like that, which is why his playing never got stale.
Mel Torme was also well known for his talent at the mic. His nickname was “The Velvet Fog”, a name applied because of his smooth vocal delivery as a vocalist. It is not so well known that Torme’ was also an accomplished jazz drummer. In this performance, he sits down at his drum kit and shows that he can not only keep up, but that he seems not the least bit out of place in this impromptu trio.
June Christy’s vocal rounds out this unusual combination. She had sung this song with the Stan Kenton band a decade earlier, so we get to hear how she comes to it with a very different instrumental backing. I love Christy’s unique voice, and she shows us her ability to keep up with the boys behind her as they give this song a first-rate rendition. Note how June seems to have gotten swept up in watching Nat and Mel, and lost her place with the lyrics after she came back in. But to me, this is the essence of real jazz – jazz made by humans who make mistakes. Pro that she was, she recovered quickly and finished with great style.
Unusual one-off match-ups like these is one of the reasons I love jazz music – you can listen to it for years (decades even) and still be finding things you have never heard before. When talented players come together, they have the ability to create a few minutes of magic for their audience, mostly uninhibited by “the music business” that is all about mass popularity of flawless, much-edited releases. This is especially true when great musicians come together for the first time. I am happy that the technology existed that could capture the long ago performances of these long-dead musicians so that we can still enjoy the results.
Further Reading:
For anyone as fascinated by the story of the 1940 recording session with Count Basie and Benny Boodman as I am, you can read more about it (and about this particular recording) here: https://swingandbeyond.com/2023/06/23/the-king-of-swing-meets-the-kings-of-swing-1940-benny-goodman-with-count-basie-lester-young-and-charlie-christian-lesters-dream-and-i-never-knew/
There is also an excellent article on Nat King Cole’s short-lived television show here: https://indianapublicmedia.org/nightlights/nat-king-cole-show.php

Great deep dive look at an obscure subject, and man, that Nat Cole vid is priceless!
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Isn’t it great? I love the raw performance.
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I’d forgotten that Mel was a drummer, not just a singer. And he wrote songs too.
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Mel’s level of talent was really top shelf!
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Your post and The Jackie Robinson of Television article were both excellent. Thanks!
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Glad you found something to savor. Each of these might have been a post in itself, had I thought about it more.
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You think “about it more” than most anyone I know!
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