Harry "Sweets" Edison

"I don't know why I'm named Sweets. Lester Young gave me that name. I don't know why I deserve the name. No-one knows but him"  Harry "Sweets" Edison.



Whether Lester Young gave Harry Edison his moniker, possibly as a recognition of his disposition or the tone that he produced from his trumpet, the name is perfectly apt. Edison was by all accounts a man with a wry personality and a compendiary wit. The unique and identifiable sound that he got from his trumpet was in many ways a reflection of this personality. His playing was dictated by the maxim of, "It's not how many notes you play, it's how many you leave out."

Edison was an alumnus of the Count Basie Orchestra at its peak. He played with the band from 1938 to 1950 and was a disciple of the sound that was to be known as "Basie Economy". Like the leader of the band, he didn't need to play ten notes when one would suffice. Sweets had a very distinct, bluesy sound that other trumpeters would try and ultimately fail to imitate. His signature was a bluesy submachine gun-esque da dee da da da da da dee da.  Yet being part of the Basie setup he understood the importance of how a jazz record had to swing. A fine example would be the song "Sweets" performed by the Basie Orchestra in 1949. Check out the interplay between Basie and Edison. (The fine tenor solo is provided by George Auld.)



After Basie broke up the orchestra in 1950 Edison relocated to the west coast and pretty much for the rest of his career became one of the most sought after session trumpeters in music. If you've ever heard a classic Frank Sinatra song from the mid 50's then you will have heard Sweets Edison. He worked with Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, Nat King Cole and the aforementioned Sinatra to name a few. He knew how to accompany a vocalist in a tasteful, restrained manner, yet his muted sound added an unmistakeable signature to the song. Check out Billie Holiday's "What A Little Moonlight Can Do" as case in point.



I think Miles Davis summed it up perfectly when he said, "Music is about style. Like if I were to play with Frank Sinatra, I would play the way he sings., or do something complementary to the way he sings. But I wouldn't go and play with Frank Sinatra at breakneck speed... So, the way you play behind a singer is like the way Harry "Sweets" Edison did with Frank. When Frank stopped singing, then Harry played. A little before and a little afterwards, but not over him; you never play over a singer. You play between"



It has been such a joy in listening to the solo albums that Sweets made in the late 50's to early 60's.  In my view his stripped down, sparse style can be compared in artistic terms with the works of Hemingway or Monet. He collaborated with a lot of big names in jazz and produced some fantastic albums. Whether it was swinging out, playing the blues or laying down a smoky ballad, Sweets could do it with aplomb. Here's Embraceable You from an album that he made with Ben Webster in 1962.

Earl "Fatha" Hines

If the only song that Earl Hines recorded with Louis Armstrong was "West End Blues" then his place in the history of jazz would undoubtedly have been cemented. As it was, his remarkable career spanned from the 1920's into the early 1980's. He has been described as "the first modern jazz pianist" and he was to have a huge influence over the players that followed him including the likes of Teddy Wilson, Jay McShann and Count Basie.



In the 1920's, stride piano attempted to break away from the stultifying nature of ragtime and was very much to the fore during the Harlem Renaissance scene. One of the biggest hits of the period was "The Charleston", written by stride pianist James P Johnson. Stride piano employed a very "busy" style of play, using a left hand that was required to emulate bass and percussion. Hines was one of the first to break away from this by incorporating more complex accents and beats. He was pretty much doing on the piano what Louis Armstrong was doing with the trumpet in the mid 20's.

The two met in the Musicians Union Hall in Chicago in 1926 and they immediately recognised each others talents. Hines was to replace Lil Hardin Armstrong in the Hot Five and in 1928 they made recording musical history when they recorded "West End Blues". Other numbers recorded at that time included "Beau Koo Jack", "Muggles" and "Tight Like That", pretty much setting the standard for aspiring jazz musicians of the time and beyond. The song "Weather Bird" is a must listen-to.  With free wheeling, innovative improvisation and the highest musicianship this is one of the most important musical cuts of the early 20th century in my opinion.



Hines held court in the Grand Terrace Cafe in Chicago well into the late 1930's. One of the proprietors of this establishment was none other than Al Capone whose career advice to Hines was "be like the 3 monkeys: you hear nothing, see nothing and say nothing". It was from here that he made his coast to coast radio broadcasts hitting the ears of Nat King Cole and Art Tatum.

A consummate professional (hence the nickname), he was also unafraid to push himself musically. His song "Cavernism" predates the height of the Swing Era by a couple of years although it sounds decidedly post-Goodman. He also gave Charlie Parker his first professional break and worked with Dizzy Gillespie in the early bebop years (unfortunately unrecorded).



He enjoyed something of a purple patch late in his career. He recorded well over 100 albums in the 60's and 70's including some highly acclaimed solo recordings. New Yorker magazine dubbed him "a whole orchestra by himself".

To finish up check out Hines playing with one of my favourite artists and guitarists, Ry Cooder, performing the superb "Ditty Wah Ditty" from Cooder's solo album Paradise and Lunch. 

Roy Eldridge

"Every time he's on he does the best he can, no matter what the conditions are. And Roy is so intense about everything, so that it's far more important to him to dare, to try to achieve a particular peak, even if he falls on his ass in the attempt, than it is to play safe. That's what jazz is all about." Norman Granz

While researching the life and music of Lester Young, one of the names that kept popping up was Roy Eldridge. What I knew of him was the (perhaps somewhat cliched) line that he was the musical link between Louis Armstrong and Dizzy Gillespie. Such simplifications seem to be rife in jazz history as historians try to create links between the different genres. This is certainly true in my opinion of Roy Eldridge.

Known to his peers as "Little Jazz" due to his short stature, Eldridge was to be one of the most important trumpet players in jazz in a career that spanned five decades. I first heard him on the aforementioned Lester Young recordings that were made for the Verve label in the mid-late1950's. His range was spectacular and his tone was a little raspy - yet his riffs were never tasteless. He was steeped in the swing tradition, as was Young, but his style continued to evolve so that he was never outdated by the sweeping changes that occurred in the music with the advent of bebop and beyond. 

Eldridge's trumpet playing is odd in that he was a musician who was not directly influenced by Louis Armstrong. This probably set him apart as he gained popularity playing with various swing outfits in the 1930's. Stylistically Eldridge himself stated that he was far more influenced by sax players than by trumpet players. It is argued that as Armstrong's playing became more predictable and less players were adapting to the decline of swing, Eldridge was probably the top trumpet player to come out of the 30's into the bebop 40s. His big breakthrough came with his association with Benny Goodman alumnus, drummer Gene Krupa, with whom he was to make many remarkable recordings in the early 40s. 

One such recording was "Rocking Chair", a fantastic example of Eldridge's chops, recorded in July 1941. Stylistically the song really is a connect the dots in terms of jazz lineage - a "sweet" horn section makes the song flow while the swing beat is held up by Krupa on the brushes (a sound which I personally have evolved a real like for since hearing Buddy Rich on "The Lester Young Trio" album). Eldridge goes through the entire register of the trumpet and hits some dizzying high notes - all without losing an ounce of soul that the song calls for. Apparently Eldridge was "blind drunk" during this recording. After sobering up he begged Krupa never to release it. Two months later his pal Ben Webster played the song back to him. Eldridge remarked, "Who's that? It's not Louis, it's not Diz." It blew his mind after he discovered it was actually him on the record. Check it out:

There is probably something in the theory that he was the musical link between Louis Armstrong and Dizzy Gillespie. His style was innovative - he could play extremely fast - and Gillespie stated that "he was the messiah of our time." The song "Heckler's Hop" for example was to prove influential in directing Gillespie's style. Recorded in the late 30's with a small combo the song is fast and edgy. It's not hard to see how a song like this would have influenced many of the bebop players searching for a new musical direction in the early 40s. 

He toured with many big names throughout the 40's, including a stint leading his own band. He emerged from a crisis of confidence after a successful stop in Paris in the early 1950's and it was around this time that he teamed up with Granz and the Verve label. He was prolific for the remainder of the decade. Health issues slowed him down later in his career. He became the leader of a house band in Manhattan during the 1970s and recorded sporadically. His final recording was the majestic "Montreaux 1977", a fitting album to close a long illustrious career.