Count Basie’s legacy orchestra at the Touhill Saturday
By K. Curtis Lyle
For The St. Louis American
William Basie, the great jazz bandleader the world would come to know as “The Count,” was born on August 21, 1904 in Red Bank, New Jersey. Basie’s mom had directed him to drums as a child, but intense competition from his boyhood friend and future jazz legend, Sonny Greer, forced him to choose another instrument. Fortunately for us, it was the piano.
As a teenager Basie vaulted the Hudson River and safely touched down in Harlem. It was the African-American cultural, political and economic capital of the world, the mecca of jazz and home to his heroes. Those heroes were great jazz pianists like James P. Johnson, Lucky Roberts and Willie “The Lion” Smith.
Amidst the glorious conquests and thunderous falls that entailed jazz piano competition in the Harlem of the 1920’s, one man stood out. “Fats was my man,” Basie said, referring to Thomas “Fats” Waller.
Waller, the wayward son of a Baptist minister, was a technical wizard on the piano, with a range of interests that transcended the instrument and recreated his driven personality in every conceivable sonic form. He was a composer of Broadway shows, a singer of great range and empathy, a comedian with a rapier wit, and a social being whose gargantuan physical appetites would literally kill him at the tender age of 39.
From Fats Waller, Basie absorbed a kind of spiritual empathy for the life of show business. The saloons, the cabarets, the theatres, the bars and the lowdown dives were all magic grist for the mill of his creativity.
Under Waller’s tutelage, Basie began to get real jobs. He accompanied singers with big personalities, like Clara Smith. He joined a road show led by Gonzel White. He played in a four-piece band and even acted the part of a villain in a comedy skit.
One morning, while on tour in Tulsa, Oklahoma with White’s band, Basie was awakened in his hotel room by music coming from outside. It was a ten-piece live band playing on the back of a truck. The leader was Walter Page, and he led a band called the Blue Devils. Everything changed.
Basie eventually joined the Blue Devils. He said it was the “happiest band I’ve ever been in.” The Blue Devils broke up in the early ‘30s, and Basie then joined the Benny Moten Band, remaining until 1935 when Moten died.
Kansas City was a deep well on the musical map of America. From 1928 through the summer of 1939 it was the southwestern jewel of the territorial band circuit. Hundreds of nightclubs flourished there. Prohibition never came to Kansas City. The gangsters, who were the de facto club owners, and the corrupt politicians kept the city open 24 hours a day. The preferred ensemble of the day was the big band, with instrumentation that usually numbered from seven to 20 pieces. It was here that Basie’s star began to rise.
He organized several former Moten band members and began playing at the Reno Club. One show was broadcast live, and the announcer dubbed Basie “Count” in order to compete with the likes of Edward “Duke” Ellington. Recording executive John Hammond liked what he heard and convinced a booking agency to take the band.
The Basie story flows out of Kansas City and goes east. Years of road work refined the band into the greatest swing machine in the history of the music. The defining musical signature of the band became the riff. This was a kind of overheated ensemble mode that created the feeling of both incredible velocity and total relaxation.
The Basie influence is ubiquitous in jazz today. There’s no player who hasn’t felt the weight of the Basie band’s riff; there’s no ensemble that doesn’t aspire to recreate that sound, if only for a moment.
The legion of players and singers who have been nourished in this incubator of swing includes Lester Young, Billie Holiday, Hot Lips Page, Walter Page, Herschel Evans, Papa Joe Jones, Jimmy Rushing, Harry “Sweets” Edison, Buck Clayton, Clark Terry, Thad Jones, Frank Wess and the inimitable Joe Williams.
The great St. Louis-born trumpeter Clark Terry, who spent several seasons with Basie and roomed with him on the road, said that Basie’s spare piano style came from the Count’s penchant for conversing with audience members – especially women – while he was playing. He also loved to recognize friends and musical colleagues who had entered the club. It’s hard to be all over the piano when you’re all over the room. And he did this for 60 years all over the world!
Now his legacy survives him in every jazz player, but in particular with the Count Basie Orchestra, now directed by Bill Hughes, which keeps alive the Basie concept and playbook. It will perform at 8 p.m. this Saturday, Oct. 1 at the Blanche M. Touhill Performing Arts Center on the campus of UMSL. For tickets, visit touhillpac.umsl.edu or call (314) 516-4949 or (866) 516-4949.
