In the old jazz music that I like to cover, it was a fairly common thing for an artist to re-record an old favorite. Much of the time, however, the newer versions – while they can boast of better sound quality – lack some of the sparkle and originality of the older performances. But as with any rule, there are a few exceptions, and Kenton In Hi Fi is one of them.

“Hi-Fi” – now there’s a term that just oozes 1950’s. What does it mean? Technically, it means “high fidelity” and describes recording and playback techniques and equipment that offered a more lifelike sound than had been common through the late 40’s when the 78 rpm record still ruled. In common parlance, it was how people described high-quality audio equipment before stereo started to become a thing in the late 1950’s.

It has been awhile since we have listened to Stan Kenton’s band. Stan got started a little later than many of the big bands, and didn’t hit it big until 1941, with a band that didn’t sound like any other. Stan Kenton liked power, and his bands almost always had more of it than the recording equipment of the day could handle. And like few other leaders, Kenton was always striving for something new and unique. He did not have the broad fan base of many of his contemporaries, but the fans he had were deeply, deeply loyal. Sometimes dubbed “Kentonistas”, they lapped up almost all of Stan’s different styles and phases.

One of those phases was in the late 1940’s. Those postwar years were a struggle for some bands as they tried to stay abreast of changing tastes and sounds. Stan Kenton did better than many, with a sound that wasn’t quite swing but also wasn’t quite bebop. It was modern and had an edge to it and settled into the groove Kenton’s various bands would inhabit for years, in which music fans either hated it or loved it. For the most part, however, fans loved it and Kenton’s band was never more popular than it was in 1947.

The problem with a powerful band like Kenton’s in the 40’s was that recording tech of the day could not capture everything that was coming out of the horns. And there was nothing anyone could do about it, except experience the band in person. As time moved on, the recording industry adopted audiotape in place of wax discs for capturing music and the LP record brought massively improved sounds to the listener’s living room. Stan Kenton moved on too, with three different generations of band(s) which went off in all kinds of different directions.

Some time in late 1955, Stan Kenton had an idea. His music from the late 40’s remained popular with his fans, but fewer and fewer people wanted to keep spinning their old 78’s. He had re-(re-re) formulated his band and drummer Mel Lewis brought a more swinging rhythm than the band had seen in several years. This was probably a better band than he had fronted in 1946-47, so what if he could rework some of the older arrangements for this modern band in a modern studio? One thing that was missing from this new band was the raspy tenor saxophone of Vido Musso, whose sound had been such a part of the older group. Kenton solved this problem by bringing Musso back for this one project – an album that would be called “Kenton In Hi Fi”.

It turned out to be a great idea, because “Kenton In Hi Fi” would become one of Stan’s most enduring albums. Recorded February 11, 1956 and released later that year, it hit No. 22 on Billboard’s album chart (in the days before albums were the domain of rock & roll). The album’s initial popularity has persisted and the it has remained at or near the top of any Kentonista’s list of the band’s best work.

I discovered this album in the summer of 1982 when I was starting to explore big band jazz of the 50’s – I checked a copy of the album out from my local library and copied it onto a cassette tape. At first I was disappointed when I learned that it was a refresh of his work from the 1940’s, but was soon captivated by how fresh and modern it still sounded. There is not a single track on the album that I would take out. But to keep from overwhelming my long-suffering readership, I will pare things down to three to feature here.

Which is hard, but let us listen to Minor Riff. This is credited to both Kenton and to his ace arranger Pete Rugolo. The title says it all – a repeating riff in a minor key. It starts with piano and rhythm, expands to reeds, then fills out with low brass before the bright, clean trumpet solo of Pete Candoli and the harsh, raspy tenor sax of Vido Musso. (It was Chico Alvarez and Musso who had solos on the 1947 version.)

Another Kenton alum was back for this session, the squealing trumpet of Maynard Ferguson – Maynard gets no solo here, but you can hear him at the top of the trumpets near the end of the cut. This recording session predated the great studios in the Capitol Records building, which was being completed around that time. There was an alternate take of this piece in stereo, but it was not released until a 1959 edition of this album. Frankly, I prefer the hi-fi mono that had been pretty much perfected by this time, while stereo recording and mixing was in its infancy (and Capitol seemed to struggle with a steeper learning curve than some other record labels).

Not everything Stan Kenton did was at full throttle and full volume. Interlude is a piece that shows how Stan had an introspective side. This is another Pete Rugolo composition and arrangement and is unique because it uses nothing but Kenton’s piano, the rhythm section and the band’s five trombones.

Stan Kenton’s was a great band if you were a trombone player, because he was one of the few who shined the spotlight on his low brass players frequently. There may have been other big jazz bands of the era that featured five trombone players, but I cannot think of them. While they were frequently turned loose at full power, this piece shows their ability to go mellow. Then there is Stan’s piano work. There are a million styles of jazz piano, but few could emulate the flavor of a classical concert pianist like Kenton. I find Stan’s piano work cleaner and more listenable than in the 1947 recording. All in all, this is a lovely piece I could listen to for hours.

Few pieces in jazz are as associated with a single performer as The Peanut Vendor is associated with Stan Kenton. Which is interesting, because it is an old, old piece first recorded by the Cuban singer Rita Montaner in 1928 and popularized in the U.S. by Don Apiazu and his Havana Casino Orchestra in 1930. Louis Armstrong was the first jazz performer to record it (1931). Pete Rugulo arranged it as an instrumental for Kenton, who recorded it in December of 1947.

This 1955 recording drives far harder than the more relaxed 1947 version, but still manages to evoke the sound of a street vendor calling “pea-nuuuuuuts” amidst a bunch of others hawking their wares. This (the opening track on Side 2 of the record) is a playground for the Kenton band’s awesome brass section, whether the foundational riff of the trombones to the soaring (and sometimes dischordant) trumpets.

Stan Kenton and his band(s) went through more chapters than a James Michener novel. He seems to have hit a real sweet spot with this one, captured on a record where he combined the best of some of his older work with the best of his new. To me, this record would make a part of a great full-immersion 1950’s experience. My recommendation is to make it complete with a dry martini and a place to put your feet up, and then imagine this disc on the Hi-Fi.